Chapter 322: Chapter 322

Da-yeon realized something was wrong with her body the moment she woke up. Despite it being late spring, she felt unusually cold.

Still, at the time, she had brushed it off. Ah... it must be that time of the month. The aching in her lower abdomen confirmed it without even needing to count the days.

She lay blankly in bed for a long while before dragging herself out into the oddly quiet living room. It was only then she remembered—both her parents were away on a business trip.

At least it was the weekend, so she didn’t have to force her aching body to school. Her head felt unusually heavy as she reached for her phone and tried to mentally check today’s schedule.

[Jinsu Oppa (Manager)]

She stared at the familiar contact. Hesitated. And finally hit the call button—not for any special reason. It just felt like something she should do.

[ What about the gym? I’m already heading there. ]

“...I don’t think I can go today...”

[ ...Are you really sick? Your voice... ]

“I’m just... still groggy from sleep.”

After canceling or adjusting her schedule for the day, Kim Jinsu said he’d come check on her—but she quickly declined. Letting him see her in this state would only cause unnecessary fuss.

Worse, he might even contact her parents. And then they’d definitely call, peppering her with anxious questions.

“I’ll be fine... I just need some rest...”

That last sentence wasn’t just for Jinsu. She was telling herself that too.

After all, she was twenty now. She didn’t want her parents worrying about her from so far away. She wasn’t a child anymore.

With that, click. She hung up. The quiet returned, even more suffocating now.

She chalked the heaviness in her limbs up to imagination.

‘Take some meds... get some sleep...’

Swallowing a few painkillers, she collapsed back into bed. The drowsiness that came over her was oddly comforting.

She thought, Yeah. I’ll be fine after a nap. No need to broadcast how sick she was to the world.

Even after sleeping for hours, her body still felt drained. More than just her period—her whole body was weighed down, unnaturally so.

It felt like the world was pressing down on her. She shivered in the cold, drenched in who-knows-how-much cold sweat.

Those barely-audible words, uttered to no one, marked the moment she realized something was seriously wrong. The fact that no one was around to hear her only made her feel worse.

Maybe that’s why... She found herself holding her phone, flicking through the few names in her contact list.

But she couldn’t bring herself to call anyone.Her parents were /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ too far—she’d only make them worry.  The rest weren’t close enough to call crying through the phone.

And so, through process of elimination, only one name remained. The one person she could never cross off, no matter how many times she tried.

Even then, when she heard Ha-eun’s voice through the phone, she hesitated.

Was she burdening her?

What if she said she couldn’t come?

If even Ha-eun said no... then she really was alone.

Pretending it was about the Diah-Hida joint stream, she invited Ha-eun over. Even then, her heart pounded in fear of rejection—that’s how desperately she wanted her there.

“...A concert recap or a behind-the-scenes stream might be fun...”

[ I’m down. But aren’t your parents home? ]

“I’m the only one here... Mom and Dad are both away.”

When Ha-eun finally said okay, all that pent-up tension melted away. She was able to joke back in her usual tone, even when Ha-eun teased her with that “beloved” talk.

But when the doorbell finally rang—

She saw the look in Ha-eun’s eyes shift in real time—less and less relaxed. Why? I didn’t say I was sick. I didn’t say a single word... This update ıs available on 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕·𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎·𝚗𝚎𝚝

Why did she always know right away? Had she looked that awful?

Her mind kept blanking out. Every time she blinked, the room seemed to shift. One moment Ha-eun disappeared into the kitchen. The next, she was feeding her warm porridge.

“This stuff is really expensive, so don’t spill any, Grandma. I asked them to load it up with ginseng.”

That familiar teasing voice wouldn’t leave her ears.

“There we go. Eating nice and neat.”

“...I’m seriously dying here...”

Da-yeon felt a tightness in her chest. She hadn’t asked for anything, and yet here Ha-eun was, taking care of her.

All the anxiety that had weighed her down crumbled away, just from bickering with Ha-eun like usual.

She blinked again. Now she was lying in bed. Something cool touched her forehead—she reached up and felt a damp towel.

She pushed the towel aside and slowly sat up. The room was quiet. Ha-eun was nowhere to be seen.

Did she leave while I was sleeping?

That sudden silence made her heart twist. The lights were off. The door was shut tight.

Even though her body felt a bit better, she didn’t feel like she was recovering. Being alone again made it hard to breathe.

Unconsciously, she murmured Ha-eun’s name and walked into the living room.

She already knew there wouldn’t be a reply. But just in case... Maybe she wasn’t fully awake yet.

She wandered the house like she was playing hide-and-seek. Opening doors, searching every corner. Even when she was sure Ha-eun had gone, she checked the bedroom door last—just to be sure.

“...I’ll sleep over tonight. It’s Sunday tomorrow anyway. Don’t worry too much, okay?”

“Oh, you’re awake. I thought you’d sleep longer.”

“Are you hungry? Want to order something?”

The question “Why are you still here?” was stuck in her throat. Her eyes started to blur.

She could only whisper the one thing stuck in her mind—the question that confirmed what she had just heard.

Was she really staying?

Ha-eun’s reply came instantly, without hesitation.

“Yeah. I got permission.”

Thinking back, she had always been . As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Even though Da-yeon knew this about her, her knees buckled. Whether it was the fever, her period, or her emotions—she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Lee Ha-eun... it hurts...”

Words she hadn’t been able to say to anyone, even hours ago. But that she’d desperately wanted someone to hear.

“I... I really... It hurts...”

She collapsed into her arms, burying her face in her shoulder. She felt her tears soak into Ha-eun’s clothes. Her voice trembled.

Logically, she wasn’t sick enough to be crying . In fact, she was technically better than a few hours ago. She could endure it, if she wanted to.

But she cried anyway. Because it hurt. Her head throbbed, her eyes stung. Everything just... hurt.

“Want some painkillers?”

“I don’t know... I don’t know anything...”

She meant it. She didn’t know how to stop hurting.

Especially her chest. That hurt the most.

She thought she had no one. But then, Ha-eun was there.

And that was what made her break.

She cried for a long, long time. Shook her head when asked about the ER. Said “I don’t know” to every gentle question.

“Let’s go back to bed. Just lie down for now.”

Still clinging to Ha-eun’s shoulder, she was lifted up with surprising ease. So easily that she barely noticed she was being carried.

And then—plop—her head dropped onto the pillow.

A soft hand brushed her bangs aside to check her temperature. A quiet murmur followed: she felt cooler now.

“If it still hurts a lot, it might be better to get IV fluids at the ER...”

“Are you scared of needles?”

The casual way Ha-eun asked that question hit her right in the gut. Da-yeon instinctively turned her head away.

Too late—she realized what she’d just revealed. She curled up, facing away, embarrassed.

Any second now, she thought.

Ha-eun’s going to tease me.

Say “You’re how old and still scared of needles?”

But instead... nothing.

She peeked back at Ha-eun. Caught a glimpse of a strange, quiet expression.

“Nothing. It’s nothing...”

Then Ha-eun spoke, gently. Said she was scared of needles too. Said it was okay. Said she understood.

Da-yeon wanted to snap back—“Since when are you scared of anything?” But the lack of joking in her tone kept her quiet.

She saw that face again. The one from long ago. Not acting. Just... looking sad.

“You can sleep if you’re tired. ...Oh, I guess you already did.”

Even when Ha-eun told her to rest, her face lingered in Da-yeon’s thoughts. Like there was something she wasn’t saying.

But that couldn’t be true. She’d known Ha-eun since they were little.

If something was wrong, she’d have noticed by now.

“...Want me to tell you?”

That voice—like she had read Da-yeon’s mind.

And then, just seconds later, she took it back. Which only made Da-yeon more curious.

“...You can’t just leave it like that.”

“Sorry. I just don’t think you’d believe me.”

Still, Ha-eun hoped that someday, she could tell her. Her expression looked past Da-yeon—like she was staring into the future.

“You’re looking a bit better now.”

She followed up with a question—Was she hungry?

Da-yeon nodded slowly. Then came the most random suggestion.

“You gotta eat well when you’re sick.”

“Chicken is health food?”

“You eat chicken on the hottest days of summer.”

“Isn’t that samgyetang?”

“Same chicken, different style.”

What an absurd argument.

She probably just wanted chicken.

Still, warm chicken was ordered. They shared it together—though Ha-eun gave up on feeding it to her this time.

With her stomach full, Ha-eun asked if she could use Da-yeon’s sound booth. It was time for Diah’s regular stream.

Of course, Da-yeon, the patient, just lay obediently in bed. Their collab stream would happen after she recovered.

But something felt off.

Even after Ha-eun entered the booth, Diah’s stream didn’t go live.

She kept refreshing the channel. When nothing came up, she checked the Illusionary Realm fan café for updates.

“To...day, she’s... on Hida’s stream?”

She jumped into Hida’s stream channel—And was met with utter chaos.

「Did you bring condolence money?」

「I-I got pickpocketed on the way...」

「Oh, donations are fine too!」

「Aigo, aigo... How could you leave us , Hida...!」

The stream wasn’t Hida’s usual witch’s hut. It looked like a funeral hall. There was even a framed photo of Hida in the corner. Familiar avatars, dressed in poorly edited black mourning clothes, were sobbing dramatically.

And the ringleader?  Currently hiding inside Da-yeon’s sound booth.

Her hand clenched automatically. Her eyebrow twitched.

「Alright, bow twice now.」

「Why is the only food yukgaejang? I prefer clear broth.」

Watching a fake funeral for someone still alive...

「She lived a full 600 years...」

「Rest in peace, Grandma...!」

「See? Should’ve been a better person...! Aigo, aigo...!」

「She’s back! Hida came back to life!!」

「Get the salt! Throw salt!」

「Don’t you need garlic for witches?」

「Isn’t garlic for vampires? Does it work on witches too??」