Idol of the Heavenly One - vanish into fiction

But the truth is, I already knew. That day was the day my younger sister, Young-hyo, was brought home after being born. In both my past and present lives, I had never been a greedy person, yet for some reason, I felt jealous that day. But soon, shame followed, along with the thought that “a person’s desires truly have no end,” and I stopped being jealous.

Anyway, that photo was precious to me. It felt like proof that this life was not an illusion but a real reality. As if it confirmed that my existence now wasn’t just something I had imagined.

“You look the same as when you were little.”

“Huh? Oh, well…”

It seemed that Baek Jae-heon also liked the photo. Holding the frame, he stared at the younger version of me for a long time.

“You’ve always looked the same.”

Was I really that similar to my childhood self? Maybe so. People often said my face hadn’t changed much as I grew up. Even after debuting, fans somehow managed to find my childhood photos and made handheld fans with them. I didn’t have to see to know that the culprits were either Ji Young-hyo or my mother.

Baek Jae-heon set the frame down and slowly turned his head. When he spotted me standing by the door, he began to walk toward me.

“…Are you going to the living room?”

I thought maybe he wanted to step out, so I moved to the side, pressing myself against the wall to give him space. But instead of leaving, Baek Jae-heon walked right up to me, reached out his hand, and pressed the lock on the doorknob.

“…”

Before I could even wonder, “Why is he locking the door?” I instinctively knew what was going to happen next.

My body understood before my mind did. My heart began to beat faster, as if warning me of what was about to come. I raised my hand, intending to catch his face, but before I could, Baek Jae-heon braced one hand against the wall behind me and brought his lips down.

“Mmph…”

Soft, wet sounds spread through the room. His lips pressed against mine repeatedly, lingering and pulling away in turns. I finally brought both my hands up to hold his face, accepting the sensation. The memory of yesterday overlapped with the feeling of now, completely swallowing me whole.

The sharp, electric thrill of last night returned, seeping into me once again. The heavy, sticky breaths, the memory of lips clinging every time they met—it all came rushing back, and heat began to build low in my stomach. The warmth wasn’t just on my face. It felt as though my heart had sunk into my abdomen, pumping hot blood through every part of my body. My mind was consumed by that rush, and I felt like I would lose myself again, just like yesterday.

Then suddenly, Baek Jae-heon pulled away.

“…Huh?”

Just moments ago, he seemed to be burning with the same heat as I was. Why stop now? Yesterday, even when the door code beeped wildly at the front door, he hadn’t cared at all and had continued to devour my lips. But now? Had he heard something outside? I looked up at him, confused, my breath caught in my throat.

But Baek Jae-heon was different. He didn’t seem to care about what was happening outside. His gaze was darker now as he looked at me. That look wasn’t just desire, nor was it teasing. Before I could form a single question, he quietly spoke.

“When you were nine.”

“…What?”

It was so out of nowhere. Nine years old, right now? I reflexively asked, and he immediately added,

“You were so cute.”

“…What?”

My heart dropped, then began to pound violently. I was more startled than when he first kissed me. To hear the word “cute” come out of Baek Jae-heon’s mouth—it wasn’t something I had ever imagined. It felt strange, embarrassing, yet somehow warm, as if it softly brushed against the deepest part of my heart.

I couldn’t speak. What was I supposed to say to that? I couldn’t exactly reply with “You’re cute too,” since I’d never seen him at nine years old. In the end, I said nothing, simply staring at him blankly, replaying his words in my mind.

Then Baek Jae-heon spoke again.

“I’m glad.”

“…Glad?”

I became even more confused. Was he glad that I was cute when I was nine? Or that I had grown up from that same boy and ended up here, as his fellow member? My head is filled with question marks. Yet strangely, I didn’t dislike what he said. No, rather, it felt like his words gently wrapped around my heart.

Because when he said it, his face wasn’t playful—it was sincere. His eyes really did carry the feeling of being “glad.” Seeing that, I felt so full of emotion that there was no need to ask why.