Bonus #3
A whole chapter inspired by Chihiro - Billie Eilish, because Minji mentioned on Phoning that she listened to this song.
And she's absolutely right, the song is amazing. The first 2 lines are enough to describe this chapter XD. Anyway, enjoy!
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???'s POV
The realm of the curse was as twisted as the judgment it held. When the beast's question rang out, instant death or immortality, I could feel my heart pounding like a drum of war. But it wasn't my life I was concerned about. It was hers.
Y/n.
I watched her, waiting, hoping she'd glance at me, seek reassurance, anything to show hesitation. But instead, I saw her grin, that reckless, maddening grin that I both adored and feared.
I immediately noticed how she's looking for "instant death," by mockingly taunting the beast as though it was nothing more than a schoolyard bully. My breath hitched.
The word choking in my throat. Panic surged through me like a wave. Was she really unafraid? Or was she simply... resigned? I grabbed her, shook her, tried to make her choose differently. But she didn't. And just like that, the beast got played.
I didn't understand how she could stand so boldly in the face of oblivion. And I hated myself for not being able to do the same.
-
When we returned to reality, the battlefield greeted us again, broken weapons, torn banners, the smell of ash and blood thick in the air. My wounds from before were miraculously gone.
I heard it then, the sound that shattered my world, a dull thud. I turned to see Y/n collapsed on the ground. My feet moved before I could think, rushing to her side.
"Y/n!" I called, shaking her. Her face was pale, but her lips curved into a faint, teasing smile.
I couldn't hold back the sobs that wracked my chest.
But she only laughed weakly, her hand reaching up to brush against my cheek.
Her hand fell limp before I could respond.
"No! No, no, no- stay with me!" I screamed. I clutched her tightly, calling her name over and over, as if the sheer force of my voice could tether her to this world. But she was fading away, the warmth in her fading, and I was helpless to stop it.
I don't know how long I stayed there, until Chaewon's voice broke through the haze.
"Minji," she said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "We have to go. We need to report back."
Go? Back? How could I possibly leave this place without her? How could I face a world that no longer had Y/n in it?
"I... I can't," I choked out, shaking my head violently. "I can't." I repeated. Because... Could I?
"Minji, we have to," Yeonjun urged gently, though his voice was heavy with grief. "She... she wouldn't want you to stay here."
But they didn't understand. Y/n was more than a comrade, more than a friend. She was everything. How could they ask me to abandon her now?
-
The journey back to camp was a blur. Each step felt heavier than the last, like I was dragging the weight of her absence with me. There were survivors, wounded but alive. There were fallen soldiers whose families we'd have to inform.
Soobin's family wept but accepted the loss with grace. He was a noble, after all, and they took comfort in knowing he had died a hero. Yujin had no recorded family, no one to mourn her except us. It reminded me too much of Y/n, who'd also had no one when I found her.
And now, it was Y/n's turn.
I stood before the house we'd shared, staring at the door like it was the gate to another realm. Inside, the others, the girls, waited. Hanni, Danielle, Haerin... they'd be expecting her to walk through that door, grinning as always. But she wouldn't.
How could I tell them? How could I shatter their world the way mine had been shattered? Should I lie? Tell them she'd chosen to stay behind, that she was alive somewhere far away? Could I even bring myself to utter the truth, that Y/n had chosen death, that she'd faced it head-on, laughing?
I pressed my forehead against the door, willing myself to move, to speak, to do something.
But all I could do was cry.
The door creaked open, and for a moment, I stood frozen in the doorway. The girls stood there, their expectant faces changing into ones of realization as they looked behind me and saw no one else.
"Where is she?" Danielle whispered, her voice trembling.
I didn't have to say a word. The weight of my silence answered their question. Their eyes filled with tears as the truth hit them, and before I could crumble, they pulled me into a hug. Together, we broke down, crying for what felt like hours. It was as if the house itself grieved alongside us, its walls echoing our sorrow.
The first month was unbearable. None of us spoke much. Y/n's absence hung over the house like a storm cloud, suffocating and heavy. We each retreated into our own corners, struggling to make sense of life without her. I would wake up at night expecting to hear her laugh echo through the halls, only to be met with silence. Meals were quieter, moments emptier. Healing felt impossible.
The second month, cracks began to form in the walls we'd built around our grief. We started talking to each other more, though hesitant at first, afraid our words might reopen wounds. It was Haerin who first brought Y/n up during dinner.
"She wouldn't want us to stay like this, you know," she said, her voice steady in a way that surprised me. "I told her not to lose in what ifs scenario. How could I, who told her that, stay stuck in one myself? I bet Y/n would want us to move on with our lives."
Her words stayed with me, and maybe with us for days. Y/n had always been the strong one, the fearless one. She'd never let us wallow in despair if she were here. Maybe Haerin was right, maybe the best way to honor Y/n was to live.
By the third month, we began finding small joys again. We laughed over shared memories of Y/n, cried over her absence, and learned to carry the pain as a part of us. It was never easy, but it was better than the emptiness of before. Still, there were moments, quiet and personal, when I wondered, if Y/n had survived instead of me, would she have carried this little family better? Would they have healed faster, laughed more, lived freer under her warmth?
-
Years passed, and time moved differently for me. While the girls grew older, I remained the same. My curse, both blessing and punishment, kept me frozen in youth.
"You really stayed young, Minji," Hanni joked one day, her laughter laced with a bittersweet undertone.
"I was cursed, after all," I replied, trying to match her lightness. But there were truths in my words. I was cursed, not just with immortality, but with the eternal memory of those I'd lost.
One by one, the girls left. Some went peacefully, others with a fight, but every loss felt like a fresh wound. Each time, I grieved alone. I would sit by their graves, whispering stories of Y/n, of us, of the family we'd built and lost. The weight of being the last one standing grew heavier with every goodbye.
Until, at last, there was only me.
-
The house grew quiet again, just as it had after Y/n. I wandered its halls, haunted by the echoes of our laughter, our arguments, our love. Time no longer mattered to me, not when there was no one left to share it with.
And so, I carried on. For her. For them. For all of us.
-
I've been alive for a hundred years now. A century of wandering through a world that never stops changing, while I remain the same. The weight of time grows heavier with every passing year, but through it all, one thing has kept me strong, Y/n's promise.
"I'll come back," she had said, her voice steady despite the inevitable end she was walking toward. I clung to those words like a lifeline, believing that no matter how much time passed, she would find her way back to me.
But when? How long did I have to wait? How long should I stay in this house, the only place she might remember? It had been our home, now, it was empty.
I waited. For decades, I stayed. I didn't dare leave, fearing she would return only to find no one there. Every creak of the old wooden floorboards, every gust of wind rattling the windows, I imagined it was her. I would rush to the door, heart pounding, only to be met with emptiness.
The world outside changed in ways I couldn't ignore. Roads turned into highways, letters became emails, and the stars above were drowned by city lights. Life moved forward, and I was stuck in place. Still, I stayed, convincing myself that patience was all I needed.
But patience isn't infinite. The house grew colder, lonelier. The memories that once brought comfort became unbearable. I began to wonder, was I foolish to believe? Had Y/n truly meant it when she promised, or were those words just a way to soften the blow of her leaving?
Leaving the house felt like betrayal. It had been our anchor, the only thing tying me to her. But what if she never came? What if I was wasting my life waiting in a place that had stopped being home the moment she was gone?
And so, I left.
-
The first steps away from the house were the hardest. I turned back more times than I could count, my heart breaking with every glance at the crumbling walls and ivy-covered windows. This was where we had built our little world, where we had dreamed of a future. It was also where I had waited, year after year, for a promise that felt more like a ghost.
The world outside was unrecognizable. People rushed through crowded streets, their faces illuminated by the glow of devices I couldn't name. Skyscrapers towered over me, and cars zipped past with a hum I could never get used to. It was overwhelming, yet it was also a reminder that I had to adapt if I wanted to survive.
But no matter where I went, or how much time passed, she was always with me.
I tried to live. I made new acquaintances, though I never stayed long enough to form real bonds. My curse ensured I would outlive them all, and the pain of loss was something I couldn't bear to repeat. I kept moving, drifting from city to city, century to century, always hoping, always searching.
And still, I believed. I believed she would come back. I believed in her promise. Even as doubt crept into my heart, whispering that I was chasing over nothing, I held on. Because what else was there for me but the hope of her?
-
On lonely nights, when the world grew quiet and the weight of eternity pressed down on me, I would close my eyes and imagine her. I'd picture her walking through the door, her smile lighting up the room as if no time had passed. "I'm back," she'd say, and all the pain of waiting would fade in an instant.
But dreams are cruel. They leave you longing for something that might never come. And yet, I couldn't stop dreaming of her.
How long will I wait, Y/n? How long should I hope? I left the house, but I never left you. Wherever you are, whatever face you wear now, I'll keep searching.
Because even after a hundred years, I still believe in you. And I always will.
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Quiz time:
Whose POV is this? ðð