Where That Girl Awaits
After spending some time at the café, I finally made my way back home. As I opened the front door and stepped inside, I ran into Mother, who was dressed up and about to head out.
"Ah, my son's home."
"...Heading out again?"
"Yes, I have a sudden meeting this evening. How'd the exam go?"
"Eh, it was okay, I guess."
"You don't look too happy for someone who says it went okay."
"......"
"Well, anyway, Mom's heading out, so take care of dinner with your sister. Or should I leave the card for delivery?"
"No, we'll manage with what's here. Then, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to rest a bit..."
"Sure, go on and rest."
I passed by Mother as she left through the front door and headed to my room. The desk was piled high with study books and notes I'd accumulated while preparing for the exams, but my feet carried me not to the desk, but to the bed.
I'd planned to dive right into studying once I got home, but the events from before I returned kept lingering in my mind.
...Even thinking back on it now, I was total trash. Me.
We've known each other for over ten years, and the feelings she'd built up over that time couldn't have been light. Yet the moment I realized them, I shut her down flat.
To use a metaphor, it was like crushing a sprout the instant it emerged, or kicking over a snowman someone had carefully built. And I felt no pangs of conscience for it—I wasn't that immoral or barbaric.
"But what can you do? There was no other way."
If I'd successfully dated someone in my first life, maybe in this second one I'd yearn to truly love someone too. But the passion I'd first ignited in life got trampled overnight, and even now, over fifteen years into this second life, that wound still lingered deep in my heart.
Of course, not every woman in the world cheats like she did. I wasn't so narrow-minded as to assume that from the start—I'd seen plenty to the contrary.
My second-life parents got along decently well as a couple, for one. And among the couples and lovers I'd observed in this life, more than a few maintained good relationships.
But not everyone. The parents of a classmate fought daily, traumatizing their kid. A middle school couple I knew broke up over personality clashes and turned to hating each other's guts.
And beyond that, I'd seen too much: people badmouthing their crush's partner, or even resorting to physical violence. Dating wasn't always beautiful—I'd witnessed that far too often.
Not everyone gets hurt in love, but plenty do. No relationship guarantees 100% happiness, and in the worst case, it could end in ruin like my first life. Or maybe something even worse.
That anxiety had haunted me every step of the way, and now it twisted into self-loathing: what if I'm the cause?
Yeah, some might call love the most beautiful emotion, but all I saw were the shadows lurking in its glow.
It wasn't just prejudice I could shrug off. The fear that things might go wrong—even slightly—crushed any longing for love and planted constant doubt about relationships with women.
I'm scared. Scared of my love being betrayed, or of betraying someone who loves me.
So if I never start, no one gets hurt. Heartbreak fades eventually, even if it stings for a while.
"I'm not wrong."
I'm sorry to her. I'd kept my distance from all things love, but she always approached me, showing her affection.
It started as sharp hostility, shifted to dishonest fondness, then became genuine feelings for me...
...And I crushed those genuine feelings without mercy.
Because I thought it was best. Because cutting her off the moment I knew was right for both of us.
You're the worst.
Not content with prying into a girl's heart out of nowhere, you assume her feelings and reject her on the spot? After over ten years together, that's all you could say?
"......"
Best...? Was it really?
Back then, I panicked and blurted it out, but reflecting now, it was just my assumption.
She was the one confessing. She'd be the one hurt by the outcome—not me. Even if I didn't love her back, there could have been better moments.
Like if she'd dropped her dishonest act and confessed her true feelings directly... and I'd politely turned her down, suggesting we stay friends. Our relationship might not have soured like this.
"...Pointless what-if."
Yeah, regrets like that mean nothing now. I'd already hurt her, and it was water under the bridge.
So I couldn't hope things would stay the same. Best to keep our distance, let old memories fade before they turn to wounds...
But even knowing that was best, the wedge in my heart wouldn't budge. Guilt, probably—that's what I'd call it.
Until I dissolved the lump causing it, I'd never forgive myself for hurting her.
"An apology..."
I need to apologize. Even if we're not meant to be together, I have to face her and say something to soothe the wound.
But how? How do I—the one who caused it—comfort a fragile teenage girl's heart?
-Scritch, scritch.
Then I started hearing faint scratching sounds. Realizing they came from my door, I opened it cautiously, on guard.
And through the crack, the intruder sensed me and barked energetically.
-Wang!!!
"...Oh, it's you, Chabchu."
Her name's Chabchu. One year old, female. Golden retriever—and an outrageous people-lover who goes berserk wagging her tail at anyone human.
She must've just woken from a nap, spotted my shoes at the entrance, and come looking. Holding her leash in her mouth, waiting for me to take it.
-Whine, whine.
"...Sorry, sis isn't in the mood for a walk right now."
-Eeeeng.
"Haa, fine. I'll get ready—just wait a sec."
She won't even give me time to brood. Grumbling, I changed into outdoor clothes.
-Beep, bleep!
My phone on the bed buzzed with an incoming call. I activated the screen and saw a familiar number—but it brought no joy.
"...Jessie."
Jessie Cage. Professional maid from the Mary & Chris main household. Her role: Mary Christine's guardian. Anything involving Mary usually reaches her ears.
In other words, the Mary I'd rejected might've run crying to her with the whole story.
"Gonna get an earful."
Steel myself. Tense, I hit accept and listened, ready to respond.
"Is this the young master of the Kim household?"
"...Yes, thank you for calling."
"It's been a while since we last spoke, young master. I'm calling because we were wondering if you know where the young lady is..."
"Ah, about that, how it happened... Wait, her whereabouts?"
What? I thought she'd gone home and spilled everything. She didn't even make it back?
"She was supposed to return home around this time, but her phone's off. Is she perhaps with you, young master?"
"Uh, we hung out a bit after the exam, but after we parted, I don't know where she went. I assumed she'd gone home..."
"You don't know either, then."
"...No, unfortunately."
Not just acting. She's too emotional for that. If she wanted to vent, she'd call and yell herself—not sic Jessie on me.
"This is troubling. It's not just the phone—her GPS tracker for emergencies is disabled too. Not a dead battery; she seems to have cut off every way to find her intentionally."
Got it. The hurt was too deep; she didn't want anyone reaching her, so she blocked everything for some alone time.
"Are you heading out to look for her now?"
"Yes, without location tracking, we can't rule out her getting into something dangerous."
"Then I'll help search. I was just about to head out anyway."
"...You would?"
"I think I have to. What happened to her... isn't entirely unrelated to me."
I let a sliver of truth slip—something she didn't know yet. She'd realize it was my fault she hadn't come home. Bracing for a scolding, but her voice stayed flat.
"I won't ask details now. The master instructed us to let you two handle your issues."
"...Thank you for your understanding."
"Yes. Then, I'll leave the young lady to you."
Now I had a reason to go out—I couldn't just stay home. Taking Chabchu for a walk and searching for Mary, I stepped outside.
On our usual path, I signaled a turn onto a different route.
"Hold up—let's go this way today."
-Wang?
"You know Mary? We're going to find her."
-Wang!
Chabchu barked excitedly at Mary's name. Then she pressed her nose to the ground, sniffing intently, and started heading the way I wanted—slowly tracking.
Mary's scent, probably. And it matched my direction. Pretty certain.
Yeah, whenever she got emotionally hurt, she'd always brood in that park.
So if we went there, we'd surely find her...
"Kyaa!! Stop it!!"
But as we neared the area, a scream rang out.
"Mary?"
I recognized the voice instantly—my nerves on high alert.