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1.
The first thing his brain registered was the sticky sensation running through his entire body; he stared at the slime oozing into a large whitish puddle beneath his knees. As he knelt, his eyes followed the flow of the strange liquid to the sort of organic cocoon attached to the ceiling of the rubble of what he assumed had been the surveillance room. Eun-hyuk simply knew he had been reborn from that strange formation; it was as if something inside his brain knew everything even before he emerged from it, just as he knew he was no longer human, yet he wasn’t a monster either, at least not in the way he had imagined when he first noticed the symptoms. However, despite being completely naked, covered in a strange slime, amidst the rubble of what remained of the green house, Eun-hyuk felt nothing—no cold, no fear, no confusion. It was as if all his senses were numb and an analytical void occupied his thoughts.
Unable to feel anything, his mind wandered around the area, assessing the situation; a plan on how to proceed began to take shape with every passing second. He stood up from where he was, looking around for something to cover himself with, logically reasoning that even though he felt no cold or modesty whatsoever, this was the first step to take.
Just as he was about to leave the area in search of clothes and something to clean himself with, something among the fallen beams drew his eyes magnetically. Despite the dim light in the room, his eyes could clearly make out a white spot there; it looked like a crumpled piece of paper. Although his mind screamed that it would be of no use to him to pick it up, since he had nowhere to keep it and there was no point in carrying a piece of paper in his current situation, he knelt down, rummaging through the beams until he reached the paper.
Eun-hyuk stared at the paper in his hands; it was the old family photo that Eun-yu had kept inside her CD player. His mind recalled the day the photo had been taken, yet he didn’t crack a smile at the memory. it was as if his memories were distant, like watching a cold, colorless movie; he couldn’t feel anything when recalling his childhood—it was like staring at a blank, empty wall. Yet that photo felt heavy between his fingers, as if it were more than just a piece of paper, and he couldn’t understand that sensation.
Although his mind told him it was pointless to carry that photo with him, Eun-hyuk felt his fingers instinctively grip the photo tighter. Unable to explain his own actions, he just snorted indifferently, walking out of the rubble and taking the photo with him after all.
2.
“Use your memories to relearn your emotions”
Eun-yu’s words echoed in his thoughts as he made his way to the stadium. Although he wasn’t lying to the girl when he said he felt nothing toward her, he truly didn’t feel the slightest urge to go after her at any moment, even though he remembered the promise made the last time they were at the green house. There was simply no logic in going after the girl, so he didn’t do it; his actions were based on analytical thoughts, not emotions.
So he didn’t turn around to look at the girl who had stayed behind, nor did he pay any attention to Hyun-su’s complaints about his cold behavior toward Eun-yu or his suspicions that he was faking that state of coldness and disinterest. But as his steps continued at a steady, almost robotic pace toward the stadium, the girl’s words repeated in a loop in his thoughts; once again, that strange discomfort returned to his chest, the same sensation he felt when looking at the old family photo safely tucked in the inner pocket of his long coat. His hands gripped the pointed piece of Hyun-su’s wing more tightly, refocusing his thoughts on his plan to stop the creature possessing Sang-Wook and his half-monster lab minions.
There was no logic whatsoever in Eun-yu’s words; his memories were all shrouded in the same cold, lifeless fog he had grown accustomed to since waking up in his newly reborn body. he still felt a void in his chest despite watching the girl and remembering seeing her grow up; there was nothing that made him feel anything, so he pushed those thoughts aside and continued on his way in silence, ignoring the phantom tingling that lingered on his skin where the girl had grabbed his wrist moments before.
3.
He could hear Hyun-su’s footsteps as he walked further and further away. The boy had promised to drag him back if he ever decided to disappear, no matter where he was. he promised to find him even at the end of the world if necessary. Eun-hyuk simply stared at the younger boy without showing any reaction to his words; however, now as he listened to him leave, he felt a strange tingling in his gut as he replayed the words in his mind.
Eun-hyuk knew the other hadn’t made empty promises; his face was too sincere for that. After all, the boy had never learned to hide what he felt. Hyun-su’s eyes shone in a different way to him as he promised to come get him after he found Eun-yu—a hopeful look, perhaps, unmarked by the anger or displeasure he’d shown while they fought Sang-wook at the stadium, however, the boy’s emotions made no sense at all to Eun-hyuk; his thoughts were as empathetic as a wall of ice. Interpreting the other’s intentions was as useful as a sieve to block out the sun; he possessed nothing but the existential void in his chest to use as a reference.
“Use your memories to relearn your emotions.”
The phrase echoed through his thoughts once more. Although his mind told him there was no logic whatsoever in that idea, he couldn’t help but reach into the inner pocket of his coat, pulling out the old photo he kept tucked away there.
His eyes stared at the image; despite the thick drops of blood that had smudged the paper, obscuring part of the original image, he could still clearly see the expressions of his younger self—the relaxed smile that graced his lips as his eyes focused on the smiling face of his little sister, who was likely amused by the gestures his hands were making in the air. Eun-hyuk stares at his own hands, curling his fingers into a ‘V’ shape just like he did in the photo, then, as if moving on autopilot, he brought his hand up to his face, mimicking the way his younger self smiled.
His lips curved into a shy smile as he moved his bent fingers to touch his cheeks; a strange tingling intensified in his gut. It was an unfamiliar sensation—there was no hint that it was anything physical, yet at the same time, he couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Eun-hyuk undid his previous movements, returning to his indifferent expression from before. Perhaps his sister was right, and he could learn something from his memories despite their coldness, or perhaps he was right, and there was nothing inside him but a hollow, cold shell.
He started walking again with no destination in mind; perhaps returning to the church where his old cocoon had been fixed, or seeking a new place to settle. Now, with a new goal in mind, he would try to test Eun-yu’s theory—despite its glaring lack of logic. Revisiting his memories in search of something within himself beyond the emptiness that had consumed him since his rebirth didn’t seem so ridiculous the more he thought about it.
Eun-hyuk didn’t bother to look back as he walked away; strangely, something in his mind told him he would see Hyun-su again.
4.
Months had passed since he began revisiting his memories; Eun-hyuk spent all that time in the old church trying to understand the meaning behind his recollections. He went over each memory, analyzing the context and writing down the reactions he remembered seeing in himself and in those around him.
On nights when he felt the need to leave the old church for a stroll through the deserted streets, he observed the animals lost in the wilderness that now occupied most of the urban landscape. He tried to understand their movements—were they driven solely by instinct? As for those wandering in packs, he tried to grasp the reason behind it: did they possess a collective consciousness, or was it simply the logic that survival chances were greater in a group than in solitude? More rarely did he encounter human survivors; he always observed them from as far away as possible. Eun-hyuk knew his communication skills had never been the best, and he also felt no desire to talk, preferring to watch from a distance, analyzing their facial expressions and the tone of their voices, trying to connect the cadence of their words with their actions. More than once, he found himself trying to replicate the reactions he observed, sometimes trying to connect these with his own cold memories.
At some point during those months, the tingling in his chest became more constant; he could feel a kind of discomfort or internal itch every time his mind wandered to memories of his sister or even Hyun-su. They were strange and confusing sensations; Eun-hyuk couldn’t describe or name them, but he didn’t dislike them—perhaps because a part of him secretly wanted to believe in that small glimpse of his human “self.”
Eun-hyuk wasn’t sure when he decided to leave the old church behind and set out for the place he’d heard so many rumors about—a refuge for human survivors, those who had returned to their human forms, and neohumans, a new society emerging despite the world around them. He didn’t need an exact location to find the place; he could simply sense where those like him were.
In less than a day’s walk, he found himself in front of a large building. Despite the peeling paint and the vegetation climbing up the walls and invading parts of the structure, Eun-hyuk recognized that building; he remembered those same walls that years ago he had called home with his parents and sister, long before the green house and the disaster that would follow.
His steps were slow and silent as he approached the site, never losing the habit of moving stealthily, he stood not far from the building’s entrance, half-hidden among the tall vegetation growing through the cracked asphalt, his eyes fixed on a group of people gathered in front of the building. Some were getting out of a large military vehicle, ikely recently rescued survivors, while others helped them, guiding them inside. Eun-hyuk’s gaze was drawn to two figures in the crowd, Eun-yu and Hyun-su, the two welcomed the survivors with happy expressions on their faces. He could clearly see the smiles and glances they exchanged; they seemed happy in a way that made that strange tingling sensation rise again in his stomach. Hyun-su had kept his word to bring Eun-yu back to her human form.
Eun-hyuk didn’t realize he had started walking until the figures began to get closer and closer, until he was so near the crowd that his approach could be noticed, he stopped in his tracks when the two figures he was watching turned toward him; his heart raced when his eyes met Eun-yu’s gaze; the girl smiled, and her eyes were shining as if they were brimming with tears; he didn’t understand what was going through his mind, but he moved his lips into a smile like the one he’d learned from the photo tucked in his jacket, without even thinking before acting.
Maybe he should leave; after all, he couldn’t explain his thoughts or the strange feelings he’d been experiencing over the past few months. However, as he stood motionless, watching Eun-yu and Hyun-su hurry toward him with smiles on their faces, Eun-hyuk couldn’t bring himself to turn his back on them.
5.
Eun-hyuk never quite understood how to feel about everything; ever since he was a child, he remembered being described by teachers as extremely quiet, a bit distant, and even cold. As he grew up, he never really learned to read social situations; others’ facial expressions weren’t so easy to interpret, nor were their intentions or feelings. He has no memory of ever having been even remotely good at reading people empathetically, always thinking more logically. Therefore, learning about his “emotions” as a neohuman was practically a lost cause; even though he often tried to mimic the actions of those around him, he never seemed to get past square one. His words always came out colder than he intended, and he frequently misinterpreted others’ reactions.
Although he had been living in Sweet Home with his sister and Hyun-su for a few months, he made no effort to interact in a friendly manner with any other residents besides the two of them, and on a few rare occasions with the boy Yeong-su, maintaining his stoic demeanor and cold tone of voice in most social interactions. Not that he realized it anyway; it was simply natural for him to act that way.
However, there was one thing Eun-hyuk had noticed about himself during that time: the frequency with which a tingling or discomfort in his chest arose whenever he was near Hyun-su. he didn’t understand the meaning behind such sensations, much less express them, yet his analytical mind began to trace patterns in these occurrences; whenever the other was near him, an itch would settle in his chest, when the two touched or exchanged glances, an electric current seemed to run through his fingers; unconsciously, he found himself smiling with a frequency that worried the younger boy. In all these interactions, the tingling was present, but in a completely different way from the times he felt it when he was with Eun-yu; it was very confusing.
Eun-yu’s loud laughter snapped him out of his thoughts, bringing his mind back to reality. He turned his face toward the sound mechanically, seemingly unaffected by what was happening around him. His eyes watched the scene unfolding beside him: Eun-yu and Hyun-su seemed absorbed in a lively conversation between the two of them, his sister was laughing openly at something the other had said as if it were the most interesting thing ever uttered on the face of the earth; her eyes were crinkled in a way that Eun-hyuk had come to recognize as a sign of amusement, and Hyun-su was shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, showing himself to be completely at ease with the situation, then what Eun-hyuk had been trying to ignore happened; he felt his eyelids twitch unconsciously as he watched the scene, a movement that Eun-yu said he made when he was unhappy.
Maintaining his usual stoic expression, he looked away, turning his gaze back to the sunset in front of him. He had no answers for these strange sensations, so he decided to ignore them.
+1
The sun was setting on the horizon as the three of them watched, sitting on the terrace. It was a sort of routine between them; during the day, each went about their own duties and activities, seeing one another only for a few moments, but the moment the sun began to set and the residents prepared for the night at Sweet Home, Eun-hyuk would follow Eun-yu and Hyun-su to the terrace where they would sit on a pair of worn-out cushions and watch the end of the day turn into night. Sometimes they would talk about nothing in particular; Eun-yu and Hyun-su would talk almost nonstop, sometimes they had heated arguments, and Eun-hyuk was content to make occasional comments, always direct and serious, preferring most of the time to remain silent, observing the interactions of the other two.
“ Damn, I really need a drink! ” Eun-yu snorts irritably in the middle of a rant about her day, mainly about Ha-ni, even though she never mentions wanting to stop hanging out with the girl. “I’m going to get something. I heard that a lady downstairs makes spirits from wild potatoes.”
“ You shouldn’t drink something without knowing exactly where it comes from” Eun-hyuk murmurs in his serious tone as the girl gets up to leave, sticking her tongue out at her brother before turning her back.
When the girl left, a silence settled over the terrace, leaving only him and Hyun-su. Normally, the two didn’t have long conversations; they exchanged a few sentences when necessary during the day, but unlike his sister, Hyun-su seemed to understand his lack of desire or ability for small talk, accepting his direct answers or his constant silence.
However, in recent months, something seemed different in the dynamic between them. There were no longer the taunts from when they first met to go against Sang-wook, nor the silent tension of their early days living together. Eun-hyuk couldn’t explain it, but something seemed different between them. Hyun-su no longer avoided the moments of silence between them and sometimes found his direct answers amusing when they talked. However, Eun-hyuk had been avoiding these moments alone with him whenever possible, because he couldn’t shake an indescribable feeling he experienced during those times, and to his rational mind, anything that defied logic had to be avoided.
He felt the other’s gaze on him; it was like the chill that ran through his body whenever a threat approached, he could sense the presence even before he saw it.
“ It seems you’ve won over your first love” Eun-hyuk says, his cold voice suddenly breaking the silence, he can hear the other man shudder even without taking his eyes off the orange-hued horizon in front of him.
Hyun-su blinks a few times, his face contorted into an expression of confusion and surprise, as if he didn’t understand the sentence he’d just heard. His eyes fixed on the man sitting beside him, he remained so still and indifferent that anyone could imagine that moment hadn’t really happened.
“ Eun-yu is just a friend, I’ve said that before.” Hyun-su snorts, shaking his head, the tension from a few seconds ago vanishing.
“ You smile at her a lot.” Eun-hyuk replies seriously, his upright posture stiff as he avoids the other’s gaze, even though he feels his lips curving into a discreet smile at the other’s response.
“ Yeah, because friends usually smile at each other.” Hyun-su replies, unfazed by the cold tone the other directs at him. He watches Eun-hyuk continue to avoid looking his way, preferring to stare at the sky like an ice statue, nothing too out of the ordinary, he thinks before smiling again. “ Since you seem so interested in my love life, I like someone else.” he teases with a smile on his face.
Eun-hyuk shifts slightly so he can look at the other, not knowing why he felt the urge to narrow his eyes at Hyun-su’s response. He didn’t understand why hearing Hyun-su say he likes someone made him feel uneasy, but he chose instead to simply reply with a “hmm” in agreement, maintaining his usual impassive expression.
Hyun-su doesn’t look away, their eyes meet in an expectant gaze. Eun-hyuk can’t make sense of the other man’s expression, his eyes seem softened as they stare at each other, and his lips curve into a faint, discreet smile. Despite the teasing tone of his previous reply, there was no trace of malice or anger on his face, leaving Eun-hyuk unable to understand what Hyun-su was feeling. He was so focused on trying to decipher the other’s emotions that he didn’t notice when the other took one of the neo-human’s hands resting on his lap, causing him to shudder in a way that was unusual for him.
“ Aren’t you going to ask me who this person is?” Hyun-su says provocatively, his eyes never leaving those of the man in front of him.
Eun-hyuk doesn’t know what to say, something in the other man’s gaze makes a strange heat course through his face in an unusual way. The tingling in his chest intensifies, and he can’t explain what it means, he is a neo-human emotions shouldn’t affect him or even exist in his body. Yet, despite the usual coldness of his being remaining, he can’t help but let a faint smile form on his lips, his eyes tracing Hyun-su’s face, cataloging every wrinkle, every freckle on his cheeks, every contour, every tiny crack in his lips…
He notices the other boy approaching, their bodies close enough that their thighs brush against each other with every breath. Eun-hyuk remains motionless, showing no s