“Don’t cry.” Watching my movements, Woorim pushed back my hair, which was drenched in sweat. His gentle and warm whisper stabbed me deep in my heart. I merely moaned like a fish impaled by a spear and bit my lips, then I finally clenched my teeth as I held back the melancholy that threatened to come out.

“…Why did you do that?” I croaked gratingly after a long silence.

Unbefitting my raspy and pained question, Woorim’s reply was blasé. “Because you looked hurt by the things related to me. I forgot that adults also make mistakes. At first, I thought it would be easy. I thought I could end it quickly. Because your mom abused you, I thought I could become your mom and care for you. But that didn’t seem to be the answer. You kept rejecting me.”

“What about my classmate?”

“I was still thinking simplistically. I thought it would be nice for you to have a friend of your age. I thought I would kill two birds with one stone. If I became the kid who bullied you and instead became your friend, you would be less miserable. But by that time, you already hated him a lot, and you loathed me no matter how nice I was to you,” Woorim said, “If that was the case, I thought it would be better for me to disappear.”

When I heard that answer, I remembered one other thing. All my meaningful memories were linked back to Yeonseon. The memory of when my classmate threw the glass vial with the raspberry seeds that my grandmother left for me into the incinerator, burning it completely—I naively thought that I must have told him that story before and passed it off.

“Oh, so that was why you got so mad back then,” Yeonseon had said. Woorim’s voice layered onto that, “I had no idea that the guy had done something like that.”

The Child went into my classmate’s body after that incident. He came up to me and said that he wouldn’t bully me anymore. So, the Child wasn’t the one who threw my bag into the incinerator.

But Woorim said that he was influenced by the memories of the body. The Child in Yeonseon’s body retained the memory of the classmate. That meant he remembered how I wailed and struggled when he tossed the bag into the incinerator.

That was how Yeonseon could say that.

With every word Woorim said, I could feel something inside me disappearing. That something was akin to golden sand—they were precious memories that one held near and dear to one’s heart until one’s dying day. They were the beliefs that helped one weather through the tumultuous future and further; they were the pride that allowed one to retain one’s humanity.

“It was very different when I was Yeonseon. Each day was heartwarming,” Woorim chuckled as he reminisced while I felt more and more dismal and spilled my tears. Woorim continued, “When I first held you, I was truly happy. My love for you overflowed, and I felt great. You felt the same way too, right, Haeseo? We were happy back then. There’s no other destiny like ours. I could feel that we had fallen in love with each other yet again that time. I could tell because your eyes were dazzling.”

I wanted to shut him up, but even if I did, that wouldn’t make everything I experienced vanish like a mirage. I had already figured out the nature of my cage. The moment I became cognizant of it, I couldn’t go back to the time when I was ignorant.

“Afterward, I fell in love countless times as Woorim.” Woorim held my hand. His warm palm and fingers were soft. He kissed my palm. Unlike my cold and rigid body, he was still hot. His passion and affection toward me were plain in his eyes.

“It’s really too bad. If I had known about the black eyes, I would have been more careful. Then, you would have fallen for me countless times as well. You were attracted to this body, right? Despite knowing that this was me, my words and actions stirred your heart—because I reminded you of Yeonseon.” His guileful words stole my breath away. I pulled my hand away from his grasp. Woorim looked a bit disappointed, but I wasn’t fooled by that face anymore. I didn’t want to be intoxicated by the sweetness and tenderness that he gave anymore.

I asked, glowering at him, “What about Woorim Eun? Where did he go?”

Yeonseon’s soul seemed liberated from the Child after passing away from the accident. Yeonseon Ham, who walked the road and asked who I was, was probably the real Yeonseon. That meant that even if the Child was possessing the body, the original soul didn’t disappear.

I was too late for Yeonseon, but I wanted to save Woorim Eun if it wasn’t too late. That way I felt like I could fulfill all my responsibilities. Unfortunately, what came from the other’s mouth was all negative. “Being able to meet me meant that the person was at death’s doorstep. Woorim once fell from the stage when he was dancing. He had already died from a major concussion that time. This body is alive thanks to me. Woorim begged me to save him, so I was invited into his body.”