Rain fell like needles.
Kim Han-jae didn't even flinch as he sprinted across the slick pavement, breath ragged, shoes ruined, and umbrella long since sacrificed to a particularly savage gust of wind. The fluorescent glow of the crosswalk sign flickered, indifferent to his dramatic sprint through a busy intersection.
"Move, you idiot!" a taxi screamed past him, nearly grazing his side.
But Han-jae had a mission. A noble, ridiculous, absolutely idiotic mission.
A tiny kitten, drenched and trembling, sat frozen in the middle of the road like a soggy loaf of bread. Its big, golden eyes blinked up at him, oblivious to the incoming traffic.
"This is how I die?!" he wheezed, barreling forward. "For a damn cat?!"
The lights turned red.
Time slowed.
There was a blaring horn, a searing flash of white.
And then-nothing.
Han-jae didn't expect the afterlife to smell like lavender.
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the soft golden light spilling in from a massive floor-to-ceiling window. The bed he lay in felt like it had been stuffed with clouds and money. The sheets were satin, the duvet heavy with luxury, and the air smelled like a five-star spa.
He sat up sharply.
And froze.
The room wasn't familiar. Not even close. It was massive, with soft cream-colored walls, elegant art deco molding, a chandelier that probably cost more than his yearly salary, and furniture that whispered money.
"What the hell..." he muttered, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
His voice was different. Smoother. A little higher. Almost too perfect.
He looked down at his hands.
Not his.
Gone were the calloused fingers, the nail-bitten stubs, the faint ink stains of a man who spent too much time fixing printers and sorting reports. These hands were long-fingered, elegant, moisturized to the point of sin.
He stumbled to the mirror hanging on the far wall. The man who stared back was... beautiful. Delicate features, pale skin, black hair that curled at the nape of his neck, and a mouth made for luxury lip gloss ads.
And then it hit him.
No. No, no, no.
He knew this face.
He knew this room.
He knew this damn world.
"Don't tell me," he whispered.
Obsession After Spring Rain.
A BL web novel his nosy coworker had forced onto his phone, giggling like a schoolgirl and insisting, "You'll love it, trust me! It's all angst and hot boys being emotionally damaged."
He never finished it. Only skimmed a few chapters during long commutes. But the names stuck.
Min Jae-won.
Kim Hyun-woo.
Eun Ha-jin.
And he? Was apparently now Eun Ha-jin-the novel's rich, obsessive second male lead who made a complete fool of himself chasing after Min Jae-won. Clingy, dramatic, reckless. Ha-jin was the guy readers both pitied and hated. He was desperate for love. He sabotaged Hyun-woo and Jae-won's budding romance out of pure jealousy.
And in the end?
He died. Alone.
Han-jae slumped to the floor, dazed.
"What the actual f-"
It took hours to stop spiraling. And even then, he wasn't entirely convinced he hadn't lost his mind.
A butler had knocked on the door to deliver breakfast: poached eggs, croissants, fresh berries, and coffee strong enough to wake the dead. Han-jae sat numbly at the table, staring at the food like it was a math test.
He could barely remember what chapter this body died in. But it was early. Too early.
That was a good thing.
"I have time," he murmured, sipping coffee like a villain in a drama. "I can fix this."
The first step? Ditch the original Eun Ha-jin's tragic obsession with Jae-won.
In the novel, Ha-jin had made a complete fool of himself. Public confessions. Crying in stairwells. Clinging to Jae-won's sleeve like a kicked puppy. It had been humiliating.
But Han-jae was not about to go down that path.
He wasn't that guy.
"New plan," he said aloud. "I'm faking amnesia."
He could play dumb. Say he didn't remember anything after a fall or an illness or whatever rich boys used as plot devices. That meant no more awkward stares, no more dramatic crushes, no more interference in the main couple's story.
Maybe he could even transfer colleges.
Yes. That was safe. Peaceful. Out of the way.
And he'd stay alive.
The only problem? Fate had other plans.
Because that afternoon, the front gates of the Eun estate buzzed with visitors.
Han-jae, still dressed in soft loungewear, wandered down to the entrance hall, curious.
He wasn't expecting to see him so soon.
Min Jae-won.
Tall. Immaculate. Eyes like sharpened obsidian.
He stood with perfect posture, hands in the pockets of a designer coat, lips set in a flat line. His gaze swept over Han-jae once-sharp, assessing-and something in it flickered.
Was that... recognition? Disgust? Concern?
Han-jae's heart stuttered.
Jae-won opened his mouth. "You called me. You said it was urgent."
Oh.
OH.
Right. The old Ha-jin must've made that call before Han-jae woke up.
Time for some improv.
Han-jae blinked at him. "I... don't remember that."
A pause.
Jae-won's brows drew together. "Don't joke. You left three messages."
"I... sorry," Han-jae said, touching his temple with exaggerated confusion. "I think I hit my head. Or maybe fainted? I don't remember anything clearly."
There was silence.
And then-something shifted.
Min Jae-won's expression changed. Not softened-Jae-won didn't do soft-but focused.
"You don't remember anything?"
Han-jae offered a weak smile. "Bits and pieces. My name. My house. Not much else."
Jae-won took a step closer. He was tall. Taller than Han-jae remembered. The air between them felt heavier now, charged with something he couldn't name.
"You don't remember... me?"
His voice was quiet. Sharp.
Han-jae played dumb like a pro. "Should I?"
Another pause.
Then: "No," Jae-won said flatly. "You shouldn't."
And he turned, coat whipping as he left.
Han-jae let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
Well.
That could've gone worse.
Maybe Jae-won would just write him off now. Pretend he didn't exist. That'd be perfect. Clean break. No death flags.
But something in the way Jae-won had looked at him-like he was trying to solve a puzzle-made Han-jae shiver.
"Stay out of the plot," he whispered to himself. "Stay. Out. Of. The. Plot."
He should've known better.
Because the plot? Was already watching him back.
To Be Continued...