(Liam's POV)
Sunlight crept across my ceiling in slow, pale lines, warming the blue paint of my walls. The color was calming—almost too calming for someone who spent most of his life waking up in cold, silent rooms.
My room didn't feel empty anymore.
Maybe… too full.
Shelves stacked with games.
Controllers tangled like snakes.
Extra pillows Mom smuggled in every night.
Stacks of books Arin kept bringing "for practice."
Training manuals Dad thought I might like "someday."
A blanket Rin claimed he liked better on my bed than his.
This room was loud even when no one was in it.
My past parents loved me, but always from a distance. Their love came wrapped in earnings and bank transfers, never warm gestures or shared breakfasts. And when they died, the person who inherited their things took almost everything. Left me just enough for food and simple living.
I was never hungry.
Never desperate.
Just alone.
Money made loneliness quiet, not easier.
So I became a loner.
Not by choice—by design.
This house was… the opposite.
Loud.
Warm.
Too alive.
I stretched, rubbed my eyes, and rolled off the bed. My body didn't shake anymore. The month of recovery had made me stable enough that even walking to the bathroom didn't feel like climbing a mountain.
It was Sunday.
Which meant one thing.
I walked into the bathroom, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and tried to pretend my reflection wasn't a stranger. Red eyes staring back—his eyes. Thin face. Messy hair.
Mine.
Now.
When I opened the bathroom door, I saw it.
Rin.
In the exact position I predicted.
Sprawled across my bed, half upside-down, using my gaming setup like he owned it. His socks were mismatched again—one blue, one green. His shirt was wrinkled like he'd fought it in his sleep.
He didn't even notice me at first, too focused on the screen.
Daily routine.
In my first week here, I nearly kicked him out every time. Not because I hated him—because I didn't know how to act around him. His energy hit me like a wave each time. Loud. Carefree. Pure.
But somewhere in the last month, I stopped feeling uncomfortable.
Somewhere along the way… I got used to him.
And now?
I didn't mind.
He finally turned, saw me, and immediately pulled that stupid grin he copied from me—the same one he used the first time he beat my record.
Little brat.
Just because I was a loner didn't mean I had no pride.
I walked over, picked up the second controller, and restarted the game silently.
"Ehhh? Brother?" Rin blinked, confused. "You're playing first? Without me asking?"
I didn't answer. Talking wasn't something I did much, except when the subject was magic, games, or novels. But today, I pointed at the screen and said one word.
"Watch."
The match loaded.
My fingers remembered the controls.
The map I memorized last night flashed across the screen.
The race began.
Perfect start.
Sharp drifts.
No wasted frames.
No mistakes.
Checkpoints passed in streaks of blurred color.
Rin's grin slowly died.
His eyes widened.
His mouth opened.
And then—
NEW RECORD
His record.
Destroyed.
I put the controller down and looked at him.
Just a small grin.
Not too big.
Not too proud.
Just enough.
Rin froze.
"You… YOU…"
His voice shook.
His little hands clenched.
"You BEAT me?!"
"Obviously," I said.
"You CHEATED!"
"No."
"You DID! You copied my tricks!"
"Skill," I replied.
"I TAUGHT you those skills!" he screamed.
"That's why they work."
His pout was so dramatic I almost laughed.
Almost.
Two months ago, I couldn't even read the menus. Rin teased me that I didn't know anything, bragged he could read better than me, and acted like a professor. That changed fast.
If I decide to learn something, I learn it.
If I decide to win, I win.
If I notice you, I compete.
If I don't—you're invisible.
Rin was impossible to ignore.
He tried to teach me more tricks, only to realize too late I was using them against him. His screams could've woken the dead.
A soft chime rang from the dining area—Mom's signal for breakfast.
Rin ran out instantly.
I followed, slower.
When we reached downstairs, Arin took one look at Rin's devastated pout and brightened like she won a treasure.
"What happened now?" she asked.
"He beat me AGAIN!" Rin pointed at me accusingly.
Arin looked at me.
I nodded once.
She burst into laughter. "Serves you right."
Rin's cheeks puffed even more. He looked like an angry tomato. I reached out and ruffled his hair. His eyes widened, then he laughed too—unable to stay angry around us.
Mom and Dad came in from the kitchen, carrying trays with warm food. Both smiling.
We sat down together at the table.
It felt unreal sometimes.
In my past lives, meals were either silent or lonely. Here, every breakfast was noise, teasing, warmth, and laughter.
Arin teased Rin about his loss.
Rin yelled that "Brother used grownup reflexes!"
Mom told him to eat before his food got cold.
Dad just shook his head like he'd seen this hundreds of times.
It felt like family.
A real one.
Halfway through the meal, Dad looked at me.
"After breakfast," he said, "we will go to the Association first. Later, we can go into the city."
Rin's spoon clattered. "HUNTER ASSOCIATION?! Can I COME?!"
Dad ignored him.
He focused on me.
"You don't have to do anything," he said firmly. "I'll handle everything."
Something warm settled in my chest.
In my first life, everything was my responsibility.
In my second life, every breath was a fight.
In this life…
I wasn't alone.
Dad poured tea into his cup and added, "Just follow me. I'll speak for you."
I nodded.
For the first time in three lives…
Someone else was leading me.
Someone else cared.
And that was enough to steady my heartbeat.
Rin reached over suddenly and bumped my shoulder.
"I'll beat your record again," he whispered confidently.
"No," I said.
"Yes!" he hissed back.
Arin rolled her eyes, Mom laughed, Dad sighed—
And I smiled again.
Small.
Barely there.
But real.
This life…
Maybe it wasn't a mistake after all.