The light reflected in trembling eyes wavered like ripples of light on the water.
Like magma simmering beneath the surface before a volcano erupts, tears swirled inside eyelids, clamoring for release, begging to see the world.
Yet, they did not fall.
Not yet. The reason was simple: her current position was one of complete disadvantage.
‘Because she was her employer?’
‘No. If it were just that, she wouldn’t feel this defeated.’
Friede—no, Ji Sehee—had become someone Ajin couldn’t confront or negotiate with.
For reasons unknown, Sehee was the only one who shielded her from the fear and aversion she felt toward people and the world.
The reason Ajin had participated in the editor competition Sehee hosted was for the money.
But now, she couldn’t help but be obsessed—with the show “Friede” and with Ji Sehee herself.
That’s why she had shown up under the flimsy pretense of a meeting.
Up until the middle, the atmosphere had been good.
They’d dropped formalities, and with drinks involved, it seemed like the barriers between them could finally crumble.
Or so Ajin thought.
But then…
“Absolutely not.”
A clear and decisive rejection.
At first, Ajin didn’t know what to think.
Her mind brushed it off simply: “Ah, I guess it’s difficult for her.”
But as seconds ticked by, unease and bewilderment swelled inside her, her heartbeat pounding so hard it wiped away even the haze of alcohol.
“Why? Did I… Did I do something wrong? If so, I’ll—”
Her words came out shaky, her tone stammering as panic set in.
‘Damn it, why can’t I act normal in situations like this?’ she thought, berating herself.
“No, not exactly something wrong…”
Ajin, bowing her head, startled as Sehee’s voice reached her ears.
Raising her gaze, Ajin saw that Sehee didn’t look angry.
Her expression was calm, like someone observing a flowing river, as she casually plucked a cookie and ate it.
“I just want to know the reason.”
“The reason?”
Ajin stared at her, dazed.
Sehee took a sip of wine, then smiled faintly.
“The more I think about it, the stranger it seems. I don’t know why you’re so attached to me.”
Sehee swirled her wineglass, the liquid inside rippling rhythmically.
As the ripples subsided, she tilted the glass slightly toward Ajin.
“Whether I’m your employer or just someone you’ve gotten closer to over drinks, I think I have the right to know. Don’t you?”
“Ugh, well… that’s…”
Ajin hesitated, fumbling for words.
Of course, no one would believe her if she told the truth.
At best, they’d think she was weird.
At worst, a liar or even mentally unwell.
Her timid, pathetic nature—what people mockingly called “Ajin-esque”—made her loathe to reveal herself in such a vulnerable way.
“I see. You can’t tell me.”
“No, I… I really do have my reasons…”
“I believe everyone has a story. Life isn’t the same for everyone; people have different circumstances, experiences, and pains. But if that’s the case, I guess there’s nothing I can do.”
Sehee murmured softly and took another sip of wine, shaking her head lightly.
Her golden hair caught the light, rippling like a waterfall with the motion.
“Sorry, but I can’t give you my hand.”
‘No, this can’t happen,’ Ajin thought desperately.
After knowing her, after discovering her existence, there was no way she could let go.
Ajin didn’t want to remain just a simple editor to Sehee, tied only by their professional relationship.
Feeling an almost unbearable thirst, she poured herself another glass of wine and drank it in one gulp.
***
Ajin remembered their first meeting.
The excitement, the fluttering feeling.
It wasn’t just Sehee’s beautiful appearance that had captivated her.
It was the warmth in the hand Sehee had offered her—the hand that felt like it had calmed the storms in her heart, electrifying her with peace she’d never experienced before.
It was like an addiction, intoxicating and impossible to forget.
‘How many times had she replayed Sehee’s streams to soothe her restless heart?’
As her face grew flush from the alcohol, Ajin lifted her head, locking eyes with Sehee.
Even this act of facing her directly felt monumental—something she could only manage thanks to the wine coursing through her veins.
Her eyes captured the image of Ji Sehee, the streamer Friede, storing it in her mind as though etching it there forever.
This wasn’t something she could let become a one-night dream.
The dark feelings coiled in her chest were too strong to ignore.
‘Fine… I’ll do it. No matter what happens,’ Ajin resolved.
Even if she ended up being dismissed as crazy, even if their relationship ended as just business acquaintances, she had to try.
She couldn’t leave this thirst unquenched.
Ajin raised her glass again and again, draining it without pause.
The wine became both the oil fueling her spiraling thoughts and the salve numbing her inhibitions.
As she recklessly emptied bottle after bottle, Sehee quietly observed her descent.
***
Finally, with the last drop sliding down her throat, Ajin clenched her eyes shut and declared, “I’ll tell you!”
To be honest, I didn’t plan for things to escalate this quickly.
Originally, as I’d discussed with Dayoung, I intended to approach her slowly, to learn more over time.
Even if she rejected me, I thought I could take my time talking with her, gradually… well, adding oil to the gears, so to speak.
But Ajin’s behavior was completely unexpected.
She came at me directly and forcefully.
‘Was she that desperate?’
“Unnie… I’ll tell you because it’s you. It’s such an unbelievable story that I wouldn’t blame you if you laughed or didn’t believe me. But… ugh, why am I even saying this? Aaah, this is so embarrassing!”
Her speech was quick again, probably thanks to drinking straight from the bottle.
Yet her words were chaotic, full of distrust—not just in me, but in everything, including herself.
Feeling like I’d done something wrong, I couldn’t help but sigh softly.
It seems forcing yourself to do things that don’t suit you is never a good idea.
Trying to play games with her, pushing and pulling with no real strategy, had only made things worse.
Though unintended, I knew I had to seize this opportunity and at least hear her out.
That meant one thing:
‘I need to comfort her.’
Ajin is like a child; she needs protection.
I held her hand tightly.
“Hiccup?!”
Her reaction was immediate.
After refusing earlier, she now seemed utterly flustered by the sudden change in my approach.
Seeing her wide, startled eyes made me feel a bit shy, but I forced myself to smile gently.
“It’s okay. Even if the order feels a little backwards, if this helps you open up, it’s fine. So…”
It doesn’t matter how we get there, as long as we arrive.
Holding her hand is a small price to pay if it means she’ll talk to me.
“Let’s start with something simple. Say my name first.”
My soft tone seemed to make her squirm.
Her shoulders tensed, and she hesitated, glancing at me nervously before finally whispering,
“Ji… Ji Sehee.”
That’s right. I’m Ji Sehee.
The woman who doesn’t know the meaning of giving up.
When it comes to life stories, mine isn’t so different from hers.
As I offered encouragement, I noticed her breathing steadying.
Good. That’s a positive sign.
Honestly, with a face like hers, it’d be a shame to see it gloomy or on the verge of tears.
‘Don’t you agree?’
“Okay, now don’t worry and just tell me. Fantasy, martial arts, academy stories, sci-fi, alternate history, even… even smutty stories—whatever it is, I’ll listen.”
I mentally braced myself, deciding I’d be as patient as a golden retriever.
Even if her tale was something absurd, like a gender-swapped hero returning with trauma, I was ready to listen.
“Thank you, thank you, unnie.”
She wiped away the tears brimming in her eyes, emboldened by my hand holding hers.
Her expression turned resolute as she said, “I’ll show you something first. Don’t be surprised.”
I tilted my head in confusion as Ajin closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Sensing she was focusing her mind, I stayed silent, observing.
Then, I felt a strange shift in the air.
And then—
Flash!
A brilliant light flickered, and suddenly, multiple figures filled the space behind her.
They weren’t ghosts, nor were they illusions exactly, but…
“These are my clones.”
Figures identical to Ajin materialized around her.
Not just one, but several.
My body stiffened.
‘If they were ordinary clones, I wouldn’t have been so shocked.’
‘What startled me was…’
‘They all have consciousness?’
Their expressions, gestures—even the way they whispered to each other.
Though their forms were slightly transparent, resembling phantoms, their movements were undeniably lifelike.
‘This… was cloning?’
“I figured you wouldn’t believe me unless I showed you. But don’t worry, they can’t do more than lift light objects.”
Ajin’s voice broke me out of my daze.
“I’ll start my story now,” she said, closing her eyes as if steeling herself for what came next.
“I was summoned to another world. It was a gender-reversed society, and I awakened as a psychic hero. I enrolled in an academy, fought alongside my classmates, and was about to defeat the Demon King and finally enjoy life. But then I was cursed. I lost everything and was turned into… well, ‘Ajin.’ The goddess who summoned me abandoned me, and I was sent back to Earth to live like this.”
Her tale sounded like something straight out of a novel.
If this were fiction, it would definitely garner 5,700 sarcastic comments, criticizing everything from its plot to its execution.
The tags? Academy, fantasy, angst, hero, and betrayal would fit nicely.
***
[Sehee: Talking with Ajin right now ㅇㅇ]
[Dayoung: ?? What are you saying?]
[Sehee: Ajin came over to my place today.]
[Sehee: We signed the contract and had some drinks.]
[Sehee: And then…]
[Sehee: typing a message]
[Sehee: She confessed.]
[Sehee: One thing resolved. Time to sleep soon.]
[Sehee: bb2]
[Dayoung: ???]
[Dayoung: Wait, what?]
[Dayoung: What kind of confession?]
[Dayoung: typing a message]
[Dayoung: Did that awkward girl confess to you?]
[Dayoung: Don’t tell me you accepted?!]
[Dayoung: Unnie.]
[Dayoung: Say something.]
[Dayoung: Do you want me to die from suspense?]
[Dayoung: Hey!]