The room didn’t disappear. It started going back in ti.
Hyun Woo blinked once, and his room wasn’t his room anymore.
The bed was smaller.
The paint on the wall was brighter.
His eyes landed on the corner—on that tiny half-moon night light plugged into the wall down low. It was glowing weakly, just like it did every night when he was eight.
His throat tightened.
"...this is..."
His childhood room.
Eight years old.
A mory he pushed so deep he barely rembered it anymore.
The Chain of Móryo pulsed against his wrist, and the hallway behind him filled with a sound he hadn’t heard in years—
A small, scared sob.
Hyun Woo froze.
That voice...
his chest trembled just hearing it.
His little brother.
The door pushed open suddenly.
A small boy ran in, cheeks red, tears running down his face, calling out his na with the sa voice Hyun Woo used to hear every morning.
"Hyung-ah! Hyung-ah...!"
Hyun Woo stepped toward him without thinking, hand shaking, breath stuck in his chest.
But the small boy didn’t look at him.
Didn’t even sense him.
Hyun Woo stepped toward him on instinct, but the boy ran straight through him like Hyun Woo wasn’t even there.
He stumbled toward the bed instead—toward the spot where the real eight-year-old Hyun Woo should’ve been sleeping that night.
Because this wasn’t the present.
It was the past the chain showed him again. A piece of his life he never saw clearly because his mind shut it out the mont it broke him.
He hadn’t rembered it in years...
but now that he was standing inside it,
every detail ca rushing back.
The boy climbed up to the bed, shaking the blanket, trying to wake the sleeping child Hyun Woo rembered only in fragnts.
"No... no, let —" Hyun Woo voice didn’t reach anything.
The boy cried harder, reaching toward the bed, toward the small sleeping figure that wasn’t awake, wasn’t aware, wasn’t there to save him.
Hyun Woo felt sothing inside him break as he rembered—
the night he never woke up,
the mont everything shattered,
the face he could never recall until now.
He watched helplessly as the mory moved forward, the scene kept moving no matter how much he wanted it to stop.
"...Why didn’t I wake up..." he whispered, voice breaking.
"If I opened my eyes... even once... I could’ve stopped it..."
His knees weakened, but he forced himself to look toward the door.
Two shadows appeared in the hallway.
They moved fast—too fast—and rushed into the room.
One of the kidnappers lifted the boy with one arm.
His brother scread and tried to crawl back, tiny hands reaching for help.
He ran straight through Hyun Woo’s chest, crying his na.
"Hyung! Hyung! Wake up!"
Hyun Woo reached out again, trying to grab the kidnapper’s arm—
trying to pull his brother out of that man’s grip—
but his fingers slipped straight through the scene like it was smoke.
He clenched his jaw, shaking, and tried again.
Harder.
Faster.
Both hands this ti.
He grabbed nothing.
His brother was right there, crying, kicking, calling his na...
and he couldn’t touch him.
Not even once.
A broken sound escaped Hyun Woo’s throat as he swung again, his hands passing through the masked man’s wrist like it wasn’t even real.
"...Please..." he whispered, breath cracking. "Let him go..."
Both of them wore black masks—no eyes, no mouth, nothing he could recognize.
But they talked.
A rough voice hissed,
"Hurry up, Jang Minho, don’t drag it out."
The second man grunted back,
"I know. Just keep him quiet."
That na—Jang Minho—the na hit him hard.
He stared at the masked figure, shaking, breath ragged.
He couldn’t see the face...
but now he had a na.
His tears kept falling, hot against his cheeks, as the mory pulled further away.
He watched his brother being carried out of the room, kicking, terrified, calling his na over and over.
Hyun Woo’s voice dropped to a whisper that trembled:
"...I’m sorry. I should’ve woken up. I should’ve saved you..."
His fingers curled hard around the chain on his wrists as the scene began to fade.
The mory faded, but the na stayed.
Jang Minho.
The room snapped back in an instant.
His bed.
His desk.
His walls.
Everything normal again—
but Hyun Woo wasn’t.
His knees hit the floor before he even realized it.
His breathing was all over the place.
Tears hit the floor, one after another.
"Why... why didn’t I wake up..." he whispered, voice shaking so badly it barely made a sound.
He pressed both palms to the floor, head hanging low.
"I was right there... right there... how didn’t I hear him...?"
His voice cracked.
"How could I sleep through that...?"
He squeezed his eyes shut, tears spilling down his cheeks.
"If I woke up... if I just woke up... he wouldn’t—"
His breath broke again.
"He wouldn’t have been taken..."
His shoulders trembled.
Everything inside him hurt — a weight that had been sitting in him for years, finally breaking open.
He punched the floor.
Once.
Then again.
And again.
His knuckles scraped open on the tiles, skin splitting, blood showing on the floor but he didn’t stop.
He just kept hitting the floor like he was trying to wake up the boy he used to be.
"Why... why didn’t I wake up...?"
It ca out like a plea.
Like a child asking for a different answer.
The room went quiet again.
No sound. Just him and his breathing.
Hyun Woo stayed there until the shaking eased just a little.
Until the tears slowed.
Until he could breathe without choking on it.
Then he wiped his face with both hands — rough, quick, like he didn’t want to feel anything anymore.
He stood up slowly.
His eyes were swollen, but that focus ca back.
"...Jang," he whispered, rembering the na he heard in the mory. "One of them said Minho."
He clenched his fist.
"I don’t know who you are," he murmured, wiping the last tear from his chin.
"But I’ll find you."
He looked at his room — at the place where his brother once stood.
"I’ll find all of you."
His voice was quiet but firm.
He stepped toward the door.
No hesitation.
"Jang Min-ho... whoever you are... your ti starts now."
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