What does it an to trust a person?
I’ll confess this honestly to all of you.
I, the Undertaker, have lived far too long.
I’ve always thought so — but seeing the [First-Cycle Undertaker], that feeling only beca clearer.
That I, as I exist now, have lived far, far longer than any human ever should.
Calling an old man isn’t even enough anymore.
Super-aged. Beyond old.
A new horizon of aging was being redrawn through day after day.
Seventies? Eighties? Oh, please.
Compared to , they were nothing but young children.
Think about it. That old man Schopenhauer — even if he wanted to “co back from vacation,” he wouldn’t have the stamina for it anymore.
As that geezer’s beloved Confucius and ncius once said —
How dare a greenhorn brat ever raise his head before soone far older?
I believed in Cheon Hwa.
And I also believed in Cheon Yohwa.
To trust another person —
At so point, to , that ca to overlap perfectly with the feeling of “trusting a child.”
“I hope she grows up well.”
Even if she doesn’t grow up perfectly, that’s okay.
As long as she stays safe.
As long as she lives peacefully with her precious family—
For , to “trust a person” was identical to declaring: I will take responsibility for this child.
Thus, after returning from the “One Thousand and One Nights” inside the dream-within-a-dream,
I imdiately went to the tombstone on the roof of the Tower of Babel and excitedly recounted everything that had happened.
“Cheon Hwa! There were many mishaps, but anyway, it was a success. Inside your sister’s subconscious, a faint sense of longing and admiration for her lost sister must now be firmly settled!”
“……”
“Whew. There isn’t a single therapist in this world who could alleviate psychological symptoms as well as I can. Honestly, what would you sisters do without !”
“……”
“Yo hwa is still busy catching up with her students, so I’ll bring her here in about a week. This ti, you two sisters will have a true reunion worthy of the na!”
“…Thanks, senior. Really, thank you.”
Cheon Hwa’s red eyes narrowed.
“So, in the end — you pretended to be .
With my face, my manner of thinking, acting like a young lady from a noble family, even using honorifics when speaking to others —
and spent several years like that inside a dream, right?”
“Mm. That’s correct.”
“I feel disgusted.”
“……”
“I feel disgusted, senior!”
Cheon Hwa looked at with genuine contempt, hugging her shoulders and twisting her upper body away.
‘Ah, I see.’
Children sotis go through adolescence.
This, too, is simply the backlash that cos from “trusting a person.”
I nodded, drew up my aura, and shaped it across the surface of my skin —
orange hair, red eyes, that mischievous smile.
A perfect instant disguise — the Cheon Hwa Exclusive Human Mask!
“Oh my. How do you do?”
Then I took out the folding fan I’d prepared in advance and snap unfolded it.
Grace and elegance.
Those two words existed for this very mont, to describe “.”
“I am Cheon Hwa.”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
“Haah—. My father should just die already.
Ah, I should hurry and let him experience the traditional Korean filial piety of the peninsula,
so my little sister can breathe a bit easier.”
“Kyaaaaaaah!”
“Senior, please— make … a happy human being.”
“Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!”
“Mm. I think… you’re happy enough now.”
“Die! Just die already, senior! Please, please, just die! So disgusting! So, so disgusting! Disgusting disgusting disgusting! Please di—!”
Playing with kids is so fun!
________________________________________
After the one-day storm of violent adolescent outburst passed,
at last, the historical reunion of the long-separated twin sisters took place.
“…You’re saying… sister.”
Reunion.
As the word literally says — they t again.
In the previous iteration, I had simply forced the two sisters to et.
That ended with Yohwa’s breakdown — and the collapse of that entire cycle.
This ti, I led the eting again.
But more carefully.
Making full use of the returner’s privileges, I prepared every possible asure with ticulous precision.
And perhaps, that effort finally bore fruit.
“…I don’t rember anything clearly, but…
Hmm, yes. I do have this strange impression, like there was soone beside when I was little.”
Yohwa’s expression was more cautious than before.
Last ti, it had been more like — “Since the teacher asked , I’ll try to get along sohow.”
Even while talking to Cheon Hwa, her emotions had been directed more toward , not toward her supposed sister.
But now, it was different.
Now she was truly thinking seriously about the existence called her “twin sister.”
□
Like soone who suddenly notices a mysterious bruise on their arm without knowing when or where it ca from —
Yohwa had finally beco able to clearly face the □ that existed within her own heart.
“Well.”
“……”
“I always thought it was strange.”
Yohwa murmured.
Usually, Cheon Hwa or I would lead the conversation,
but for this mont, we stayed silent and simply waited for Yohwa’s response.
We already knew — forcing a conversation made only of words would only lead to miserable failure.
‘We’ve done all we can on our side.’
We revealed everything to Yohwa —
even the possibility that Cheon Hwa might be her twin sister,
or rely the remnant of an abandoned god.
My heart beat faintly.
‘Now the affirmation or denial of this bond rests entirely in Yohwa’s hands.’
Our role was only to accept the result,
and to be faithful listeners until whatever followed that result.
“What’s strange?”
“Mu-gan. The god I served.”
“Our cult, strange as it looks, is of Taoist origin.
Just as Christian sects obsess over the trinity — the number ‘3’ —
we obsess, almost pathologically, over the Taiji’s ‘2.’”
Taiji.
White and black.
“Ah.”
A thought struck .
Yohwa smiled wryly at my expression.
“So if a nonexistent ‘sister’ showed up wearing a black sailor uniform,
violating Baekhwa High School’s dress code —
then that was almost certainly reflecting my father’s will.”
“…Crazy.”
I couldn’t help but curse under my breath.
Cheon Yohwa’s father — the cult leader —
had imposed his superstitious rituals even onto the color of his children’s school uniforms.
And seeing it that way, my thoughts grew clearer.
“Mu-gan treats all things in existence as equal fragnts of data —
a world where everything is equal,
existence itself as space.
anwhile, the Dark Veil takes that data, rearranges it, simulates it endlessly.”
“Yes. The ti when everything becos manifest.”
“…For the Dark Veil to have aning, it must gather as much data as possible.
Conversely, for Mu-gan’s data to be useful, it must be simulated as much as possible.”
“Yes. Only then can there finally be no flaws anywhere.”
“So, from the perspective of the forsaken gods,
they’re creating a perfect imitation of our reality.”
Yohwa nodded.
“I think they’re complentary beings. To each other.”
Beside , Cheon Hwa stayed silent,
but in her red eyes, a flicker of understanding like candlelight shone.
All three of us — experts in the strange — had reached the sa conclusion.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to rena the forsaken gods I classified before.”
“Yes, teacher. Perhaps what I subdued wasn’t Mu-gan, but…”
The Yang of Taiji.
“And the one on the other side—”
“……”
“The being my supposed sister embraced and sealed wasn’t the Dark Veil, but…”
The Yin of Taiji.
“From the start, they were one and two at once — forsaken twin gods.”
“……”
“Of course, I don’t know which side my father designated as yin or yang.
You can’t tell just by color alone.
Ah, teacher, you know, right? In the Taiji, each side has a small dot of the opposite color.”
“I know.”
☯
A white core with a black dot.
A black core with a white dot.
A crucial symbol of the Taiji.
It shows that black and white aren’t just two separate things —
but one that contains the other.
Yohwa smiled faintly.
“So actually, maybe that side was Yang, and my side was Yin.
Well! It seems Father’s plans failed anyway, so who cares.”
“…I see.”
This was the final revelation of the “solution arc.”
Only now — after 1,003 cycles —
had we uncovered the truth that the “Mu-gan” I first defeated in the 117th cycle
was in fact the polar point of the Taiji.
‘Is calling sothing by its true na really this difficult?’
A strange, profound feeling welled within .
As I savored that emotion, Yohwa stopped smiling and looked at Cheon Hwa.
“…It’s still hard to call you ‘sister.’ Sorry.”
“……”
“But if you really are my sister, and if you’re anything like how the teacher described —
then calling you ‘sister’ only on the surface, without truly aning it, would hurt you even more.
So, please take this as the less painful wound.”
“……”
“If you really are my sister,
then you allowed yourself to be sealed in [Ti Seal]
knowing that I would be hurt.
So endure it.”
“……”
Cheon Hwa nodded.
Then Yohwa smiled.
“For now, you can just call Yohwa.”
“…Really?”
For the first ti since the reunion, Cheon Hwa spoke, softly.
“But I might be… a monster.”
“That’s why there’s a condition.”
“Condition?”
“Mm. A condition — or rather, a match. A bet.
If you want it.”
A match. A bet.
Those were words Cheon Hwa loved more than anyone else.
Born close in age as siblings, it was also the ga they most often played together.
“What kind of bet?”
“The teacher told .
Even while trapped in [Ti Seal],
you deliberately made the mont you were sealed your happiest mory —
so you could keep your self-awareness.”
“Yeah.”
“You kissed the teacher.”
“…Yes.”
Yohwa closed her eyes and took a breath.
Then she looked straight at the person identical to herself.
“From now, just once — I’ll call you ‘sister.’”
“……!”
“I’ll believe your story. I’ll believe in the teacher’s faith.
I’ll truly, earnestly, with all my heart think of you as my lost sister.
I’ll think deeply about your wounds and call you ‘sister’— sincerely.”
“Uh, um, that’s good, but… really good, but…”
Cheon Hwa frowned slightly.
“Why…?”
“……”
Yohwa’s eyes grew calm.
“To test whether you’ll be happy.”
“…Huh?”
“If you really are my sister —
if you’re not just a fake monster mimicking her —
then you must be happy.”
“……”
“You must be happy.”
Yohwa’s eyes were tranquil.
And because of that, terrifying.
“The teacher you love has done all this for you.
He’s worked this hard for your sake.
And for your beloved sister’s sake.
He’s literally risked his life for it.”
“……”
“No matter how many tis the world ends and repeats,
you will never again reach a mont like this.
Soone who led you here, who understood you,
who yielded for you —
you’ll never have such family again.”
“……”
“So when I call you ‘sister,’
you must be happier than ever before.
Happier than when you kissed the teacher in that fleeting mont.”
Yohwa’s red eyes narrowed.
“Am I wrong?”
“…No. You’re right.”
“Good.”
Yohwa said firmly:
“So it’s a bet.
If, when I call you ‘sister,’ that becos your happiest day —
if the ‘day’ you repeat in this graveyard changes from that old one to today—”
“…Then it’s my victory.”
“Right.
I’ll accept that you truly are my sister.
But if even after I call you that,
your happiest mory is still the one from the 688th cycle —
the day you kissed the teacher—”
“……”
“Then if you forget everything that happened today,
and when midnight cos, you repeat the sa old day as always—”
“Then I lose.”
“Then I’ll never accept you as my sister. Ever.”
“……”
“Ah, teacher. This ‘ever’ — I an it literally.
Even in the next cycle, or the one after that —
please, never reunite with a sister again.”
Yohwa smiled brightly.
“If soone values a kiss with you more than this mont —
then it doesn’t matter whether she’s my sister or not.”
“……”
“So. What will you do? It’s up to you.”
Yohwa rested her chin on her hand.
“You don’t have to accept the bet.
In that case, I won’t call you my sister —
but I’ll still see you as the teacher’s respectable colleague.
I’ll call you Cheon Hwa. You can call Yohwa. That’s fine.”
“……”
“But if you do accept, this will be your only chance.
Will you beco my sister—
or will you rot forever within a tombstone no one but the teacher cares about?”
“……”
“You decide.”
Silence fell.
Even for , Yohwa’s proposal was a rare stroke of genius.
‘…Unlike other sealed ones, Cheon Hwa keeps the mont of being sealed as her “happiest mory.”’
‘It’s as if she experiences being sealed again every ti she wakes.’
That was her clever trick.
To repeat her happiest day forever —
yet also remain aware that she had been sealed.
‘Using that trick, she’s continued updating her day — bit by bit —
accumulating happier mories with .’
‘Now, Yohwa is turning that exact trick back against her, asking—’
How precious am I to you?
Is being called sister by your own twin
as precious as that kiss with the Undertaker you love?
If so—
Then prove it. Not in words, but in evidence.
“……”
After a long silence in the classroom,
Cheon Hwa — who had lived all her life as a mad gambler —
finally raised her head.
In her eyes—
Determination burned.
________________________________________
A day passed.
“What do you think, teacher?”
For that entire day, the two of us camped in a tent on the roof of the Tower of Babel.
Just days ago, we had been trapped together in Baekhwa High School’s barrier of Mu-gan —
so to Yohwa, this situation felt quite familiar.
“Do you think she’ll really take the mont I called her ‘sister’ as her happiest day?”
“Hmm.”
I looked up at the night sky.
“Nothing is as close to emptiness as a person’s heart.
You can’t grasp it, they don’t fully understand it themselves,
and there are parts they refuse to see — and even parts they’re willing to deceive themselves about.”
“Ahaha… I think so too.”
“Sincerity is always a difficult word.”
A few hours earlier,
Cheon Hwa had accepted the bet.
And Yohwa had called her ‘sister,’ embracing her tightly.
She had apologized again and again —
for forgetting,
for leaving her sister to sacrifice herself alone.
Tears stread down Cheon Hwa’s face.
“People tend to take tears as proof of sincerity.
But sincerity is proven not in the mont itself,
but in the ti that follows.”
“…Teacher, then you’ve been spending all this ti proving your sincerity.”
“Because you both believed in .”
I smiled.
“And I believe in you too.”
“……”
“Even if the sisters never reconcile, it’s fine. Life doesn’t end there.
Even those sealed in ti — their lives aren’t truly over.
You sisters taught that.”
Perhaps that is the asure of adulthood —
whether you can still learn from children.
Ring, ring, ring—
We both turned.
A smartphone was vibrating on the small table outside the tent.
Midnight had co.
“…Teacher.”
“Yes.”
Twelve o’clock.
For real people, that’s the mont when “yesterday” becos “today.”
But for those sealed in ti,
it’s simply the point when the sa day begins again.
“Shall we go in?”
“…Yes.”
Yohwa took my hand first.
A faint tremor — clear tension — passed through her palm.
Today, she would either gain or lose her family.
And it would be carved as “eternal,” by her own choice.
No matter how many thousands or tens of thousands of cycles follow,
I would never again reunite her with her sister.
Step— I moved forward.
Step— her footsteps followed.
“Fuu…”
A small breath.
It was the sa as the 117th cycle. Yo Hwa, the lively, energetic orange-haired student council president, always believed in and followed after .
At that ti, Yo Hwa was able to regain the self she had lost.
This ti was different.
She wasn’t rely chasing after , her teacher.
She thought for herself, created a standard that everyone could accept, and under the pretext of “a duel,” she herself wagered herself.
‘You’ve grown. Yo Hwa.’
The world collapsed without hesitation, and life repeated without promise.
Even so, if a chance were given. Perhaps.
“I will open the door.”
“…Yes, teacher. Please open it.”
Creak—
The door, which opened at a speed only I could hear and in a way only I could see, opened.
A colorless gravestone, which seed it would never accept anyone and which rely reflected the opponent like a mirror, revealed its inside.
What scenery awaited there?
Normally, seeing enter first, Cheon Hwa would have brightly laughed and said sothing like, “Ah— sunbae! Welco! I knew you’d co!”
From her point of view, she had just kissed a mont ago.
“―――.”
She would have smiled triumphantly, as if everything had gone according to her plan, as if it was only natural, with a look so smug I’d want to flick her forehead.
However.
“――uh.”
Even before the door fully opened, Cheon Hwa was crying.
In one corner of the classroom.
Squatting down, using desks and chairs as a shield, silently shedding tears.
Perhaps realizing belatedly that we had entered, Cheon Hwa turned her head.
Her lips moved.
“Uhh, u…… ah, ……uh. Uu…….”
“…….”
But no aningful words ca out.
She opened her lips to say sothing, but the only thing that ca out was a trembling whimper.
Even when she tried to suppress the whimpers, what remained in her mouth was still the sa whimper, and only more crying piled on top of her crying, making her voice constantly sink downward.
“I, I……. I. I, soday……. with sunbae……. and with Yo Hwa. The three of us. Uh, the three of us…….”
“…….”
“A place, like…… that. But that…… can’t. It’s hard. Because it’s impossible……. So, at least sunbae. I, I. That alone…… was enough for …….”
“…….”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yo Hwa. I’m sorry…….”
Yo Hwa walked forward.
Inside the graveyard where ti was sealed, originally, anyone except was not supposed to walk around carelessly.
From the mont contact with was lost, they would be exposed completely to the void.
However, for so reason, Yo Hwa naturally let go of my hand.
And I, too, for so unknown reason, had the thought ‘it’s fine’ and let her go.
Step, step.
Yo Hwa walked over and bent her knees.
Then she sat at the sa height and extended both arms, pulling the other person into a firm embrace.
“I’m sorry. Unnie.”
Yo Hwa said.
“I’m sorry for forgetting.”
“…….”
“Hurry and co back.”
Cheon Hwa’s crying filled the classroom.
The sealed one.
The one who had lost her own existence.
The na of the spell and curse that makes the frozen ti of the lost begin to flow again is only one.
It was happiness.
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