Hae-joon studies him for a long moment.
"…You talk like you've already decided something about me," he says quietly. "Like I don't get a say."
Arthur doesn't respond.
But his gaze shifts, just slightly.
That's enough.
"Yeah, no," Hae-joon exhales, running a hand through his hair. "I'm not standing here while some… whatever you are decides whether I exist or not."
He takes a step back.
This time,
Arthur moves.
Fast.
Too fast.
One second there's distance between them..
the next, Arthur's hand is wrapped around Hae-joon's wrist.
Not tight.
But firm enough to stop him.
Hae-joon's breath catches.
"…You really need to work on your people skills," he mutters, trying to ignore how cold Arthur's hand feels.
Arthur doesn't let go.
Instead, his gaze drops to where their skin touches.
His brows pull together, faintly.
"…Strange."
Hae-joon frowns. "What is?"
Arthur doesn't answer right away.
He remained silent...uncertain.
"…Your heartbeat," he says under his breath.
Hae-joon blinks. "Yeah, that's kind of how being alive works."
Arthur looks up.
"No," he says quietly. "That's not it."
Something in his tone makes Hae-joon's chest tighten.
"…It doesn't align," he murmurs. "Your presence… it's inconsistent."
"…Inconsistent?" Hae-joon echoes, a little sharper now. "I'm a f***ing human, not a Wi-Fi signal."
"…You've been overwritten."
The words hit hard.
Hae-joon's stomach drops. "Okay, you need to stop saying things like that-"
"You shouldn't have memories past a certain point," Arthur continues, voice low. "But you do."
"…What are you talking about?"
Arthur lets go.
Takes a step back.
"…This wasn't just a deviation," he says.
He looks at Hae-joon again.
"…Someone interfered."
Silence.
Hae-joon exhales slowly. "Wowww. So not only am I 'not supposed to exist,' now I'm what--tampered with?"
Arthur doesn't answer.
Hae-joon lets out a short, humorless laugh.
"…Yeah, I'm done with this conversation."
He turns..this time not waiting.
Arthur doesn't stop him.
Hae-joon steps out of the alley, into the dim glow of streetlights and distant traffic.
Everything looks… normal.
Too normal.
"…You're going the wrong way."
Hae-joon stops. Closes his eyes.
"…Are you serious right now?"
"I'm serious all the time."
Hae-joon turns, unimpressed. "That's not something to be proud of."
Arthur stands under the streetlight, still. Unmoving.
"…If you go home," he says, "they'll find you faster."
Hae-joon's expression falters.
"…Who is 'they'?"
A pause.
"…The ones who sent me."
Hae-joon exhales. "…And you're just telling me this casually?"
"You deserve to know the situation you're in."
"That's not reassuring."
Silence.
The world carries on around them.
"…So what? I just don't go home now?" Hae-joon asks.
"…Not yet."
"And I'm supposed to just trust you?"
Arthur pauses.
"…No," he says finally. "But you don't have a better option."
Hae-joon stares at him.
"…God, I hate this."
Hae-joon exhales.
"…Fine. Then where do we go?"
Arthur meets his gaze.
"…Somewhere you won't be found."