1

Jinwoo Lee died on a Tuesday.

It wasn’t dramatic, not in the way it should’ve been. No thunderstorms, no car crash, no screaming final words. Just cold metal under his skin as he lay bleeding in the apartment he shared with the man he loved—Minjae—and the friend he trusted like family—Haejin.

He’d come home early that day. Just one hour early. Just enough time to hear the moaning behind the bedroom door. To hear his name on someone else’s lips, being used like a joke, gasped in pleasure by the person who once kissed his forehead and called him “my everything.”

He should have screamed. Should have thrown something. But he stood there frozen. Heart thudding like the soft beat of a funeral drum. When the door opened and they saw him, Minjae didn’t even look guilty. He had the audacity to say, “You were supposed to be at work.”

Haejin just pulled the sheets higher to cover herself, biting her lip in a way that used to look shy, but now seemed filthy.

Then came the push. The shouting. The blur. Jinwoo remembered being shoved. He remembered the sharp pain when his head hit the corner of the coffee table. And then…

Nothing.

---

The world around him returned in the sterile quiet of a hospital hallway. Not white and clinical—beige and depressing. Like the place had long given up on hope. There were voices. Muffled.

Jinwoo blinked.

The lights above him were too familiar. The hum of the fluorescents. The smell of hospital-grade sanitizer. He gasped and sat up, clutching his chest. His body—his body wasn't bruised. No blood. No broken bones.

He looked down at his hands. Smooth. Younger.

The wall clock said 2021.

No.

He was supposed to be in 2024. He was supposed to be dead.

---

It took hours to accept what had happened. It took a spilled cup of vending machine coffee, a mirror, and a date on a nurse’s clipboard to confirm it.

He was back.

Three years before Minjae and Haejin betrayed him.

Three years before he gave everything to a man who threw it all away like garbage.

His phone still had old messages. His email still had unopened interview offers from companies he never joined. He hadn’t quit his toxic job yet. He hadn’t moved in with Minjae. He hadn’t told Haejin his secrets. Everything that had hurt him hadn’t happened yet.

But it would—unless he changed it.

---

Jinwoo was not the same man he had been in 2021.

This version of him was colder. Sharper. His kindness now layered with steel beneath the soft voice. He smiled at Haejin when she sent her usual good-morning selfie—but inside, he was already planning how to cut her off cleanly.

He responded to Minjae’s flirtatious texts with polite indifference, not the shy eagerness he once had. Let the bastard wonder why his pet wasn’t wagging its tail anymore.

But what Jinwoo didn’t expect… was Yunho.

Yunho was the quiet team lead in a department Jinwoo used to ignore. Tall, broad-shouldered, always dressed in black and navy. He never smiled unless something truly delighted him. In the old timeline, Jinwoo only remembered him as the man who once covered for his work mistake—nothing more.

But now, in this life, Yunho looked at him differently. As if Jinwoo were a mystery he’d seen unravel before.

One day, after a long staff meeting, Yunho cornered him at the elevator.

“You’re different these days,” he said. His voice was low. Like smoke.

Jinwoo blinked. “Different how?”

Yunho studied him for a long moment. “You stopped apologizing before speaking. That’s new.”

Jinwoo gave him a thin smile. “I guess I’m tired of apologizing for existing.”

That earned him a soft laugh. Just once. Quiet and real. Yunho leaned closer as the elevator doors opened.

“I like this version of you,” he murmured. “Don’t let anyone ruin it.”

Jinwoo watched him walk away.

In his past life, no one had said things like that to him. No one had looked at him the way Yunho did.

Was he being kind? Or did he see too much?

---

Later that night, Jinwoo sat alone in his apartment. His fingers hovered over the call history. Minjae’s name blinked at him like a trap.

He pressed block.

Then he opened the old messages he’d saved. Screenshots. Hidden photos. Evidence from three years in the future. Photos of Haejin wearing Jinwoo’s necklace in Minjae’s bed. Proof of falsified reports that got him fired to make room for Haejin’s promotion. Every little betrayal. Every knife to the back, documented and timestamped.

This time, he wouldn’t wait for justice. He’d create it.

But he’d play the long game. Like they did.

---

The next morning at work, Haejin latched onto his arm like she always did.

“Jinwoo-ya~ let’s get lunch together, ne?” she cooed. “I heard they added your favorite at the cafeteria!”

Jinwoo smiled so sweetly it made her blink. “Actually,” he said, “I’m having lunch with Team Leader Yunho today.”

“Oh?” Her voice faltered. “Since when do you talk to him?”

“Since he started paying attention to me.”

He patted her hand and pulled away.

Her smile wobbled.

Jinwoo didn’t look back.

---

That day at lunch, Yunho didn’t say much at first. He just watched Jinwoo eat slowly, as if memorizing every bite.

“Why me?” Jinwoo asked finally. “You could be eating with anyone.”

Yunho wiped his mouth with a napkin and said calmly, “Because you’re pretending you haven’t been hurt before. And I can see the cracks.”

Jinwoo stared at him, heart suddenly cold. “What if I told you not to look too closely?”

Yunho’s eyes didn’t waver. “Then I’d ask why you’re afraid of being seen.”

Jinwoo’s breath caught.

Don’t fall, he warned himself. Don’t trust. Don’t hope.

But a part of him—a small, quiet part—whispered that maybe, just maybe, this time… he wouldn’t have to walk through hell alone.

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