Chaotic Hearts (4)
Seo Joo-hwan tangled bodies with Yoo Ji-kyeong all night long after she showed up again at dawn, solidifying their master-slave dynamic once more.
She still hadn’t given up, huh.
She freaked out at his declaration that he would take the master's role this time. Getting bound and stripped of her freedom again? No thanks. Being the masochist for him was already a Herculean task.
Truth be told, the reason Seo Joo-hwan couldn’t fully commit to the masochist role was that Yoo Ji-kyeong’s looks didn’t suit a sadist at all. How could a pint-sized girl barely scraping 157cm pull off being a master? Sure, if she had Jeong Ha-yeon’s sharp edge, maybe. But Yoo Ji-kyeong had soft eyes and a face that skewed downright cute. Though, thanks to that beauty mark under her eye, she could look surprisingly sexy at times...
A raccoon dog as a master? No way.
Was it back when he’d broken up with Jeong Ha-yeon and come down with a nasty flu? In his dream, all sorts of animals had popped up, and one raccoon dog looked eerily like Yoo Ji-kyeong. Curious, he’d reached out to touch its tail, barely grabbing it before waking up.
And when I opened my eyes, there she was, groping my chest.
From that moment, Yoo Ji-kyeong became a cute little raccoon dog in Seo Joo-hwan’s mind.
He gazed at her now, mumbling in her sleep beside him.
“...Guri... I’m not... slave bitch...”
“Heh. Yeah, right.”
Just slap on some ears and a tail, and she’d be perfect. Seo Joo-hwan patted her butt affectionately, then stroked her hair. Her grumpy mumbling eased into a peaceful expression, her lips curving into a faint smile—like a pet raccoon dog thrilled by its master’s touch.
Activating Holy Touch, he gently massaged her limbs. She must’ve been exhausted from the night before; even as he kneaded her, she slept like the dead. What was she dreaming about? Her relaxed, beaming face looked utterly adorable.
He called her name on a whim.
“Ji-kyeong-ah.”
“Mmm...”
“You awake?”
“...”
Just sleep-talking, then. He pinched her cheek, stretching it playfully before planting a light kiss.
“You’re really out, huh?”
Warm affection filled his eyes as he watched her sleep. Confirming she was still dreaming, he murmured softly.
“Ji-kyeong-ah, thanks. For being my friend.”
As he spoke, he overlaid her with memories of another Yoo Ji-kyeong—the one from before his regression. These words were meant for her, back then.
“You asked me for a smoke that day too.”
He recalled it vividly. Pre-regression, on the rooftop where he’d been smoking alone as usual. A 23-year-old Yoo Ji-kyeong had appeared out of nowhere, asking for a cig.
“You thanked me, but I was the one who should’ve been grateful.”
That version of her was surrounded by awful rumors. But Seo Joo-hwan didn’t care about them. His own reputation wasn’t much better.
They’d both approached each other without prejudice, so there was no reason for her to unilaterally thank him.
“I can’t tell you how happy I was that you kept coming back to me.”
Back then, he’d kept her at arm’s length despite appreciating her. He worried dragging her into his mess would only make things worse for her. But she’d vaulted right over that invisible line.
To some, it might’ve been intrusive. To him, it was bewildering but not unwelcome. He was grateful for her bullheaded persistence. In his lonely, withering days, he’d unwittingly soaked up her warmth.
“You helped me hold on.”
He’d been beaten down by misfortune, crushed by the isolation of having no one to talk to. She was the oasis in that parched desert of a life.
“Looking back, it felt like you had a crush on me? Heh. Or maybe I’m sorry if I’m wrong.”
Pre-regression, he hadn’t seen her as a woman. He couldn’t. Starved for human connection, he hadn’t dared view her romantically. But her attention was so refreshing to his affection-starved heart that he couldn’t resist.
He hadn’t pushed her away, letting her dye him bit by bit. But endings come inevitably.
Obsessed with the word “misfortune,” he’d shoved her away again. Paranoid that her problems were his fault, he’d panicked preemptively.
“You know? I never deleted your number, even when I died.”
He remembered his curt “Don’t call me again.” He’d even said he’d delete it, so calls were pointless. But he never did.
Your number got me through the rough times. Proof I had at least one friend.
Did you see me as a friend too? A shameful memory he couldn’t voice.
“Haha. Creepy, right?”
Seo Joo-hwan chuckled lowly at the recollection, then kissed her sleeping lips once more.
“This time, I won’t push you away. I like you a lot.”
*
Yoo Ji-kyeong stirred faintly in her sleep, lulled by the voice at her bedside. It was his voice, tickling her ear—the man she adored.
Its whispery lilt pulled her slowly from deep slumber.
“You... coming to me... made me so happy...”
What was he saying? It was muffled. Even with clear enunciation, it slurred in her haze.
Her ears buzzed. “...helped me hold on.”
Hold on? From what? Worry crept in even half-asleep. But the past tense eased her a bit.
As she sank back, another fragment surfaced.
“Now... it felt like you liked me? ...Sorry.”
Much clearer this time. Her drifting mind snapped alert.
“...Huh? Even until I died, your...”
Died? What? Say it again. Exhaustion crushed her awareness. Dream or reality?
“Haha. Creepy, right?”
Now the voice held steady. Still, dream or real? Her body felt like a waterlogged cotton ball—heavy, sodden.
But she focused harder. Probably a dream. Hope he says he likes me.
She listened eagerly, heart brimming with ulterior motives. But no words followed.
Instead, a soft smack—something gentle touched her lips.
Then, as the sensation faded:
“...won’t push you away. I like you a lot.”
Yoo Ji-kyeong jolted fully awake. He... likes me? Did I mishear? No, it was clear.
Frozen stiff, eyes shut tight. That lip touch? His kiss. The words after? Crystal.
Oppa likes me too?
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. Dizzying pulse spike.
Get it together.
No time to swoon—this was her chance. She calmed her racing heart, cracking her eyes open to confess.
Oppa, I...
But her thoughts didn’t escape.
“But Ji-kyeong-ah.”
His voice cut in first. She clamped her mouth shut, eyes closing again, ears straining.
He continued.
“You can’t like me.”
What the hell?
Yoo Ji-kyeong thought she’d misheard. Like me, then don’t like me? Absurd.
His voice returned, sighing.
“Sigh... I got this insane system... Fuck, excuses. Truth is, I’m a piece of shit. What can I do? Didn’t know I was this greedy.”
What’s he on about?
Her eyebrows twitched under closed lids. She wanted to scream at the sheer ridiculousness. Her mind swirled in chaos.
Seo Joo-hwan muttered to himself.
“Sigh. Yeah, I know. I’m a total waffler. But I can’t let go.”
Something surged in her—anger, probably. He couldn’t give up on her or Jeong Ha-yeon. Maybe others too.
And sure enough.
“Heh. Think so? Nah, dating and marriage are off the table already. Might as well make Lucy my main wife, right?”
Another woman’s name. Main wife? Who the hell is Lucy!
Sounded foreign. How far did his legs stretch? Worse than imagined. A global playboy.
Asshole!
Yoo Ji-kyeong cursed inwardly, unfurling her curled body and kicking out hard.
Thwack!
Where’d that land? A choked gasp followed.
“Guhk...!”
Serves you right, jerk.
A single tear slipped from her squeezed-shut eyes.
*
Seo Joo-hwan now had to soothe a fuming Yoo Ji-kyeong.
I’m the one who got hit, so why...
Incredibly unfair, but he couldn’t protest. Her death glare terrified him—not really, but arguing felt like tempting fate. He played it safe.
“Uh, want something to eat?”
“...”
“Haha... I’ll whip up something delicious.”
He poured his all into cooking. Luckily, his low-probability Lucky Hand special ability fired off repeatedly. The result? Restaurant-worthy gourmet dishes.
Good food brings peace. Sure enough, she forgot her anger, marveling between bites.
“Raccoon dog, you over it?”
“Nerugulruk...”
“...Nope.”
Weird. Food should’ve fixed it. Today’s raccoon mood proved stubborn.
Need a plan...
Drastic measures required. Letting this slide spelled trouble ahead.
“Raccoon... I mean, Ji-kyeong-ah.”
“What.”
Jeong Ha-yeon vibes? Scary.
Seo Joo-hwan gauged her mood.
“Haha. Wanna head out and change the vibe?”
“...”
“C’mon. Shopping?”
“...Just us?”
“Huh? Call the others?”
“Kyaa!”
“Us! Just us. Nice weather—let’s date. Sound good?”
Nod, nod. Her head finally bobbed.
*
Out already, Seo Joo-hwan aimed to fully cheer her up.
“Know a great clothing store. Let’s go there.”
“Clothes... I’m broke now. Later.”
“Your paycheck?”
“Tuition and living expenses next semester.”
He nodded without prying. Pre-regression, her family wasn’t well-off. She’d saved for independence since high school, as far as he knew.
“I’ll buy.”
“You? Nah, I’ll get you back later.”
“Hey. Just follow. You know I make bank.”
“Still...”
“Tsk. Raccoon dogs obey their master.”
“...You love that raccoon thing.”
Over it? She didn’t swat his petting hand.
He half-forced gifts on her reluctant self. A few outfits for her? Pocket change.
“Hair salon too. Know a good one.”
“I’ll pay there.”
“Shush. Don’t fleece poor college kids.”
“I can afford a salon...”
“This one’s pricier than most.”
“...”
She shut up. He ruffled her suddenly shy hair roughly.
“Agh! Don’t mess with my hair!”
“Then don’t feel burdened. You didn’t ask—I offered.”
“Tch. You’re paying. How’s that not burdensome?”
“Hey. Totally different. Master says so, so it is.”
“Bossy, rotten master.”
“Handsome master.”
He grinned at her. Black curly hair down past her wingbones—awkward length. It suited her, but he knew a prettier look.
Hmm. Let’s see. There was a style that fit her perfectly before.
Vague memory, but the shape lingered. Not the exact cut or color name.
“They’ll figure it out from a rough description.”
Her stylist, Shin Ha-neul, was latent A+, current A rank. Good enough.
Yoo Ji-kyeong tilted her head at his mutter.
“Huh?”
“Mm. Ji-kyeong-ah, thinking of a haircut?”
“Why else go to a salon?”
“No, like a big chop? Medium bob, just below shoulders?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
“...Mess it up, and you’re taking responsibility.”
“No worries.”
He led her to his longtime salon.
*
Leaving the salon, Seo Joo-hwan was wiped.
“Why’d it take forever...”
His quick trim ended fast. He’d waited hours alone. Her first dye job ever—miscalculation.
“Oppa. H-how’s it? Suits me?”
“Duh. After all that time? Gotta.”
“Tch. You sound mean.”
“Heh. Stunning. School on weekdays? No one’ll recognize you.”
Revamped clothes and hair transformed her. Wingbone-length locks now grazed below her shoulders; double-bleached then dyed, a luxurious mocha brown.
Mocha brown, yeah? Shin Ha-neul said it was ash-toned brown for subtle elegance.
Don’t get it, but whatever.
No aesthetic talent for styles. But the color evoked raccoon dog fur—perfect.
Oblivious, she beamed.
“Pretty, right? Hehe.”
“Perm some waves later? Even prettier. Shame we couldn’t today.”
“All at once? Poodle city. I’ll handle perm myself.”
“Call me.”
“No. You’ll just spend more.”
“Tsk. Master’s duty.”
“Pbbbt.”
She stuck out her tongue, then grinned. He smirked, matching her stride, hand on her head, shaking it lightly.
“Let’s go, raccoon dog.”
“...Can’t you drop that? Getting old.”
“Not bored yet. Play along.”
She scrunched her nose, sighing deeply. But soon, she grumbled the sounds he wanted.
Pretending annoyance, but her smile betrayed her.
“Raccoon fox.”
“Yup.”
“What’d I just say?”
“Huh? Raccoon raccoon.”
“Right.”
“Lame.”
She smiled unwittingly at his chuckle. Raccoon raccoon.
He didn’t know. Raccoon dogs sometimes lived in fox dens.
Stick with raccoon dog for now.
He seemed to prefer it over fox.