RTN 36

chapter 36

So I did do boxing.

Rubbing the ice pack Kim Do-woon gave me over my aching, twisted ankle, I stared blankly at the memo.

It was something I wrote myself—my attempt to hold onto a fading memory from last night. It clearly stated that I used to go to a gym during school breaks just for light training. It was written in black pen. That meant it was reliable.

But no matter how hard I tried to recall, I didn’t remember a single thing about boxing.

To think I’ve already forgotten this.

I wrote that memo just yesterday. Not even twenty-four hours had passed, and it was already gone. If Kim Do-woon hadn’t mentioned the way I wrapped my hand, I wouldn’t have even realized I’d forgotten.

At this rate, I’m going to forget everything.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I flipped through the stack of memos from start to finish. More than half of the contents had disappeared from my mind. At this speed, in less than four days, I would forget them all.

But then…

I frowned and traced the memos with my fingers. Something was off.

Shouldn’t all memories disappear evenly?

Strangely, only my memories of Baek I-hyun remained mostly intact. If anything, I could list them in even more detail. Even now, they felt so vivid it was as if I could reach out and touch them.

The way he smiled.
The way his gaze rested on me.
The unusually gentle tone he used when speaking to me.

Even when I’d get up on my toes and whisper nonsense into his ear just to tease him, he’d always lean toward me—like whatever I was saying was the most important thing in the world.

When rumors spread that we were living together and I was put in a difficult spot, he personally came to my class, stood beside me, and defended me.

Whenever I was confused about whether we were family or friends, he always reassured me with a gentle smile—saying he could be a brother, a friend, or anything else I needed him to be.

So when he got involved in that incident, I…

My thoughts froze. I blinked.

Incident?

What incident?

I couldn’t remember. It was pitch-black—like someone turned off all the lights—and my stomach dropped.

That means even my memories of Baek I-hyun are not intact.

They were just disappearing more slowly than others.

Even knowing it was useless, I clutched the pages as if I could hold the memories inside them with my hands. It felt like the edges of my heart were wearing away.

I don’t want to forget.

A drop of water hit the page. I hurriedly wiped my tears with my sleeve, but the name Baek I-hyun was already smudged.

I bit down on my lip, trying to suppress the emotion. I couldn’t just sit here crying. The time I had left to make decisions based on memory was running out.

I gathered the papers and re-read them, carefully scanning the sloppy and neat handwriting alike. At the same time, I considered every possibility I could think of.

If I really lose all my memories like this… would I still want to go back to my original world?

There was no guarantee my memories would return even if I went home. And without those memories, that world held no meaning for me. I wouldn’t feel desperate to return to something I couldn’t even remember.

If so, then I could willingly stay here for the rest of my life. Eventually, I might become a completely different person.

This panic I’m feeling now might disappear.
Maybe I’d settle comfortably into this accidental power.
Maybe I’d even grow arrogant.

So what if—

I lifted my head.

What if Baek I-hyun… forgot his memories the same way?

Then his personality could have changed too.

Personality isn’t only something you’re born with. It is shaped by environment. And this place is filled with monsters and war.

Surviving with your sanity intact is harder than losing it.

If he arrived here as an outsider, he would’ve had to survive the gate, lose his memories, and climb up from nothing to get where he is now. It must have been brutal.

“The Baek I-hyun I know would never exploit someone’s kindness.”

That was what I said.

But thinking again… this world is not a place where kindness alone keeps you alive.

“That friend of yours. Are you really sure you know everything about him?”

Kim Do-woon’s voice echoed in my head. And…

“Then what’s this? Isn’t this a boxing hand wrap?”

I forgot my memories of boxing, but my hands moved skillfully when wrapping cloth.

If Baek I-hyun lost his memories too, his habits should remain as well.

“Do you use your left hand well when fighting? During sparring—when you’re not supposed to grab, but you keep the opponent from falling?”
“No problem.”

He said he didn’t have that habit.
But I never confirmed it myself.

I grabbed a pen and flipped through the memos again. The part where I strongly insisted this Baek I-hyun wasn’t the real him—I crossed it out with a big X. That conclusion was on hold.

Clutching the papers, I stood.

I needed to meet him.
I needed to confirm it.
Before I forgot.

I didn’t know where Baek I-hyun was, so I headed to the battalion commander’s office first. The ship was enormous—it took forever just to walk from the dorm to his office.

Looking around, I realized there were subway-like transports installed at intervals, probably for fast internal movement.

But you had to scan your watch to use them, and I hadn’t been issued one yet.

So I walked.
And rested.
And walked again.

By the time I reached the commander’s office, my injured ankle throbbed like it was on fire.

But the moment I saw Baek I-hyun standing at the entrance, talking to a soldier, the pain didn’t matter anymore.

I pushed aside the soldier trying to stop me and yelled,

“Baek—no, Commander Baek!”

He stopped talking and looked at me. His expression was blank—and his gaze slid downward immediately after landing on my face.

What was he looking at?

Panic rose in my voice.

“Please! I just need a moment!”

I twisted my arm out of the soldier’s grip. As soon as my foot hit the ground with force, a sharp pain shot up my ankle, and I winced.

Baek I-hyun’s eyes returned to my face.

“You walked all the way here?”

I was caught off guard. Before I could answer, he spoke again.

“I heard you injured your ankle.”

“It’s just a little sprain. More importantly, I want to talk. Just the two of us.”

He stared silently for a moment, then lowered his eyes toward the tablet the soldier was holding.

After issuing a few quiet instructions, he pushed open the office door.

“Come inside.”

I didn’t move immediately—the soldier was still holding my arm. His expression was flustered, but when I twisted away again, he let go.

I hurried after Baek I-hyun into the office. He closed the door behind us.

The room was wide, cold, and carried a faint, sharp scent—like something clean and metallic.

He stepped directly in front of me, clearly intent on finishing this conversation quickly.

I swallowed and looked up at him. He felt nothing like the man who sat beside me eating lunch at the dorm.

“What is it?”

I held out my memo.

“My personal information. Could you look at it and tell me if anything seems familiar?”

He lowered his eyes just enough to glance at the paper.

“I’ve already been briefed.”

“…What?”

“The soldier who cleaned your room found these by your bed. He compiled them into a file and reported them to me. I read everything. I remember none of it.”

All the energy left me.
I tried to hide them, tried to prepare a moment of distraction—anything to give me a chance to strike.

But he didn’t even bother to look at the memo in my hands.
He just kept staring at me.

“Is that all? I thought you already decided I’m not your friend.”

“I thought… maybe your personality changed.”

I lowered the memo. My gaze dropped to his left hand. His voice cut through the silence.

“Return to your room. I’ll assign someone to escort you. Don’t walk—”

A faint vibration sounded.
His watch lit up.

That was the moment I was waiting for.

I moved instantly.

I pushed off the floor hard—my body twisting low as I extended my leg in a fast spinning kick. My heel slammed into his side with a heavy thud.

He didn’t even flinch.

Instead, I lost my balance. My body tilted back. My heartbeat exploded.

Before my injury ended my athletic career, I did gymnastics.
Baek I-hyun did taekwondo.

His skill had been nearly flawless—but he had a strange habit. When striking, he would unconsciously steady his opponent so they wouldn’t fall, and he would lose points for it.

To fix it, I sparred with him constantly.
He improved… but for some reason, only when sparring with me, he still messed up.

If I attacked suddenly, he never countered properly. He would take the hit and immediately reach out with his left hand to keep me from falling.

Sometimes he overdid it and we both tumbled.

Because of that, even with my sloppy imitation skills, I was the only one who could easily catch him off guard.

So, if this was the Baek I-hyun I knew—he wouldn’t block properly. Even if he did, it wouldn’t be smooth.

If there was even a split-second of imbalance, I would catch it.
No—I had to catch it.
So I could—

But when I looked up at him…

There was no embarrassment.
No flustered expression.

Just a faint, cold annoyance.

The next moment—

He slammed me against the wall.