RAT Chapter 3 (Part 2)

…Hmm. That’s a hard one to answer. I don’t even know what our relationship was like before all this bullying started.

Instead of replying, I bit my lip—enough to make my silence say everything.

Seeing that, Kim Dojun stepped forward and pulled me behind him protectively.

“Yeah, well… we really don’t know anything.”

“Then stay out of it,” Jin Yoorim said coldly.

“We can’t do that. We’re the same team.”

Maybe a bit late for that, though.

With a sigh, Kim Dojun turned his head toward Eden, who was leaning casually against the wall, watching the scene like it was a play.

“I’m talking to you too, Eden.”

From Eden’s perspective, he’d just been dragged into an argument for no reason—but he only smiled and tilted his head.

Hmm… I do that a lot myself, but seeing someone else do it—it’s kind of irritating.

Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I tugged Kim Dojun aside to get him out of my way.

Then I spoke, as gently as I could manage.

“Yoorim. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you wanted… or give you what you wanted.”

“…Hyung.”

At those few, simple words, Jin Yoorim’s eyes began to tremble as if he might break down at any second.

I’d already guessed this much, from how his hands shook when I got hurt, or how desperately he tried to stop Taeyoung from throwing away the notebook.

Still, it was the kind of thing the twenty-one-year-old Park Yeoul—cornered and pressured by impossible expectations—would never have said.

And yet, it was also the exact line that would hit Jin Yoorim hardest right now, the one thing he wanted to hear most, without realizing how absurd his resentment toward a non-regressed Park Yeoul really was.

If I play this right, I could probably wrap up Regressor No. 2 in no time… but the real problem is Regressor No. 1.

Someone like him—a lunatic who gets angry at the pre-regression Park Yeoul just because my body got hurt—there’s no way he’d fall for something this simple.

Sure enough, the moment Yoorim took a shaky step toward me, looking like he might actually hug me, Regressor No. 1, Eden, let out a laugh disguised as a mistake.

A laugh so clearly deliberate that anyone could tell it was meant to mock.

Yoorim froze mid-step.

…Yeah, I guess things don’t go smoothly when there are two regressors in the same place.

Couldn’t you at least take turns? Let’s get a balance patch, seriously.

I glanced at Eden, my expression tired. He waved a hand in mock apology, his face showing not a trace of remorse.

“Ah, sorry. I should’ve held it in.”

“You—you really…”

Kim Dojun looked visibly upset at that, but honestly… instead of being grateful that he was speaking up, I just found it annoying.

This wasn’t kindness. It was that shallow kind of moral superiority—the kind that says, “I’m not like them,” just because more than half the group’s on his side.

Like I said before, I don’t think that’s bad exactly. But the part where they subconsciously put me below them in that hierarchy—that’s something else.

And more than anything, I just didn’t see the point of splitting into factions to fight against these brats.

“…Oh, still at it?”

Moon Taeyoung came back, his steps stiff, as if throwing out the notebook had somehow given him time to collect himself. He stopped beside me.

I really wished they’d leave me out of this “sides” nonsense.

Forcing a polite smile onto a face that clearly wanted to sigh, I took Kim Dojun’s hand and pressed it into Taeyoung’s.

“No, we were just talking things through. Like you said.”

“Ah… really?”

Yeah, obviously not.

Taeyoung didn’t look like he believed me, but he didn’t have the energy to argue either.

“Yeah. So, sorry—but could you give us a minute?”

“…Will you be okay?”

His face clearly showed the conflict between wanting to stay out of it and wanting to make sure I’d be fine.

I smiled faintly and nodded at the both of them.

Even Dojun, who’d been having a silent staring contest with Eden, finally clicked his tongue in exasperation but didn’t push it any further.

Letting themselves be pulled along by Taeyoung, they headed out of the dorm. I waved lazily as they left.

Then I turned toward the two remaining regressors—Eden, now smiling like he was actually intrigued, and Jin Yoorim, eyes shimmering on the verge of tears.

“Wait a second.”

“What now?”

“They only took their phones with them.”

“And?”

“They left halfway through breakfast. I should at least feed them something.”

And if it lightened the mood in here for a while, all the better.

…Though, I doubted it would.

I gave Eden a half-hearted answer and pulled out my phone. Using the wonders of modern convenience, I sorted nearby cafés by distance and sent a bunch of franchise café gift cards their way.

That should buy me at least thirty minutes before they come knocking with a “You done talking yet?”

When Moon Taeyoung texted back a string of question marks, confused by the sudden flood of gifticons, I simply replied, “Enjoy the treats,” and looked up again.

Both of them were still staring at me—unchanged, unmoving.

“…If you’d just listen this well all the time, I might actually start liking you.”

I realized I’d messed up the moment I said it, but pretending not to notice Jin Yoorim’s expression, I crooked a finger at Eden.

“Finally my turn?”

“Yeah. You. You’re…”

I stopped midsentence, realizing something.

I hadn’t even washed my face yet since waking up and coming straight out of the room.

“Go wash your face first.”

“I’m perfectly fine, hyung.”

“Then the conversation ends here.”

“…Well, fine. If that’s how you’re gonna be, can’t be helped.”

Eden shrugged lazily and opened the door he’d been leaning against, walking inside.

…So that’s where the bathroom was?

After noting its location, I rubbed some water on my face and turned to look at Jin Yoorim.

Hmm. So I hadn’t imagined it earlier—he really had been crying.

“…Hyung.”

“Yeah.”

“…You’re really not the same hyung, are you?”

“……”

Uh, I mean, I am older than you, so you’re calling me hyung for that reason, right? Not that I don’t understand what he’s really asking.

Still, it’s not like I’m some monster wearing Park Yeoul’s skin.

If you look at it from the other side, it’s even simpler.

I’ve always been me. I’ve never been anything but me. If you define a person solely by whether or not they have memories, then maybe you’re the one farther from being Park Yeoul than I am.

I didn’t answer Jin Yoorim, who was still crying. He’d already asked this same question before, and I’d already given him the answer.

“But then why… why did you say the same thing Yeoul hyung did?”

Ah… guess I slipped up there.

I let out a sigh and said slowly—the same words the previous Park Yeoul must’ve already repeated dozens of times.

“Because I am Park Yeoul.”

“…Ah, right. You are. You’re Park Yeoul. Of course.”

And as if realizing something so obvious for the first time, Jin Yoorim repeated those words again and again before smiling through his tear-streaked face.

“…Hyung.”

“Yeah.”

“…Please don’t hate me.”

“……”

“…I’ll be good. Okay?”

That’s something he should’ve said to yesterday’s Park Yeoul, not to me.

Still, I pulled the still-crying, still-smiling Jin Yoorim by the arm and guided him to sit down on a chair.

I understood what he meant.

Reality repeats, but the situation never does.

For me, life moves like a hamster wheel, always circling back to the same point—but the people around me are never the same.

The things I knew aren’t what I know anymore. The people I knew aren’t the same people anymore. The things I thought were precious disappear so easily.

No—“disappear” isn’t the right word. They can’t disappear if they never existed in this round to begin with.

So I know that, by now, a simple nod, a quiet “I see,” or even silence would be enough.

What Jin Yoorim really wants isn’t forgiveness or understanding—he just wants the connection to remain somehow. Even if what ties us together now is resentment.

…Still, just because I understand doesn’t mean I have to give him what he wants.

He’ll get over this, eventually—after he’s looped a few more times.

Yeah, from one veteran to a beginner: Park Yeoul supports you. Good luck, Jin Yoorim.

“You need to cool your head, seriously.”

At that, Yoorim’s emotions crumbled again. Unable to control himself, he slumped forward onto the table, shoulders shaking.

Meanwhile, Eden—who’d clearly finished washing up—was standing there watching the whole thing without saying a word, looking way too amused.

Part of it might just be a difference in personality, but I was pretty sure the number of regressions between Regressor 1 and Regressor 2 was on a completely different level.

Passing the composed-looking Eden, I started toward the bathroom, then turned back to call out,

“Wait.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t mess with Jin Yoorim while I’m gone.”

I wasn’t planning to shower—just wash my face and brush my teeth—but knowing Eden, he could easily cause chaos in even that short amount of time.

Sure enough, he just smiled instead of answering. Somehow, that didn’t inspire confidence.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I said I wouldn’t, right?” he called after me.

“Yeah, pretty much. But I figured I should say it anyway.”

I shut the door hard—maybe a little too hard—and sighed softly, as if to drown out the sound of his laughter.

Looks like I’ve screwed up again this round.

Well, fine. I’ll decide whether to reset after I make seaweed soup.

I glanced at Eden, who was pushing the shopping cart with a strangely cheerful face, and sighed quietly.

“Hyung, can I buy snacks?”

“Use your own money.”

“I didn’t bring my wallet.”

“Then put them back.”

“You bought some for Taeyoung and Dojun.”

“…Thanks for calling me hyung. Fine, get a few.”

He doesn’t even like snacks, though.

I watched him dump half the snack aisle into the cart, clearly just enjoying the feeling of shopping, then gave up and went off to handle the real groceries.

Even if they were only twenty and twenty-one years old, and rarely cooked, you’d expect a dorm to at least have the basics—salt, soy sauce…

Actually, no. Knowing them, the only thing left was probably some clumped-up salt that had absorbed moisture months ago.

I grabbed salt and soup soy sauce, then paused in front of the sugar shelf, hesitating.

Just then, Eden came over—apparently done with his snack spree—and took the things from my hand, tossing them into the cart.

“Sugar too?”

“Still deciding.”

Seaweed soup doesn’t use sugar anyway… and it’s not like the others are ever going to cook, so yeah, better skip it.

All I really needed now was seaweed, garlic, and mussels. I looked up, ready to move to the next aisle—

When Eden picked up the biggest bag of sugar there.

“I like that stuff. The toast you make, with all the sugar sprinkled on top.”

“……”

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had something worth complimenting you for.”

I sighed quietly, took the 3kg bag from his hands, and replaced it with a 1kg one.

As if someone suffering from depression and constant bullying would’ve ever baked sugary toast for the D.I.Y. members.

So the fact that he brought that up so blatantly could only mean one thing: he knew.

He knew I was the regressed Park Yeoul.

…Well, to be fair, in this situation, hiding it would’ve been harder than getting caught.

Before we left for the supermarket, the moment I stepped out after washing up, Eden suddenly stuck his face right in front of mine.

“I didn’t mess with Jin Yoorim.”

“…Yeah, okay.”

…Was that supposed to earn praise or something?

I answered half-heartedly, and my dear regressor burst into a slightly unhinged laugh. Then he reached out his hand and whispered softly.

“Towel.”

“……”

“I don’t know where they’re kept.”

“……”

When I didn’t answer or hand him one, he just grinned again and very obviously waved around what looked like the towel he’d used earlier.

If it had ended there, I could’ve brushed it off as a misunderstanding—but his next words left no room for that.

“But hyung, aren’t you gonna change clothes?”

“…Yeah, I am.”

Except there hadn’t been a wardrobe in my room earlier, and judging by Jin Yoorim’s current state, this situation could very well reset by tomorrow.

I’d been planning to head straight out to buy ingredients for the seaweed soup, but even so, I didn’t want to go out in the clothes I’d slept in.

So, with the defeated air of a soldier surrendering after battle, I jerked my chin toward Eden, silently telling him to lead the way.

Once I changed clothes, he naturally followed me, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve just showered and washed my hair too.

While I was internally groaning and debating whether to wear a hat, he reached up and put his own on my head.

“You know you’re really weird, right? Most people wear hats to hide unwashed hair.”

“…It’d make the hat dirty.”

“Yeah, well, this one’s mine, so just wear it.”

Then he looked me over from head to toe, smiling in satisfaction like an artist admiring their work.

After that, he followed me without a word, and once we arrived at the store, he grabbed a cart and started filling it with every kind of snack he could find.

Right after that bold little toast comment, no less—the one that basically announced he knew I was the regressed version of Park Yeoul.

There was no point in trying to deny it at this stage. Instead of answering, I simply pointed toward the aisle we’d passed earlier.

“…Huh?”

“The bread’s that way.”

“……”

Even though he’d clearly already been sure, confirming it from my own mouth must’ve still surprised him. He froze for a second, then broke into a bright, boyish grin before hanging off my arm playfully.

“Let’s go together, hyung.”

“Ha…”

“There are lots of kinds of bread, you know?”

I sighed loudly as he tugged me along, but Eden didn’t seem to care in the slightest. His smiling face looked genuinely happy—so much so that it made me a little uncomfortable.

…The truth is, unless you choose to restart on purpose, it’s surprisingly hard to tell when a reset is coming.

Of course, when it happens, you know immediately, but if you haven’t been deliberately stacking up the triggers like last time, it’s easy to miss the exact moment.

Naturally, I’ve tested it plenty over countless regressions. The “damage”—if you can call it that—just doesn’t have clear criteria.

Well, considering the conditions for regression aren’t clearly defined in the first place, that’s not too surprising.

—Which means, the only way to know how far I can push it is to test it on myself.

For example, revealing that I’m a regressor doesn’t cause an immediate restart.

But when Taeyoung or Jin Yoorim take it seriously enough to tell the company and I end up getting sent for counseling, things always go downhill fast.

The company flags me as a risk, preparing a backup plan—like releasing my songs under the relatively unknown Kim Dojun’s name instead.

Of course, since that involves copyright and revenue issues, they can’t proceed without my consent. The others protest, things escalate, and the group collapses under rumors of conflict or manipulation.

I learned what not to do through those crashes—dozens of times over—but even then, the limits still aren’t clear.

During the first round, I triggered a reset trying to break up a fight between Jin Yoorim and Eden. Ever since, I’ve avoided getting involved in anything between them… yet I’ve still failed every single time.

Out of sheer stubbornness, I even tried flirting with both of them in separate rounds, just to test how far I could go.

For the record, Jin Yoorim fell for it almost embarrassingly easily—while Eden was absurdly difficult.

Not that I blame him. In a way, the emotional barrier between us was high for both of us.

And well, Jin Yoorim may be pretty, but Eden’s the kind of good-looking that’s just objectively handsome, so that makes sense too.

Anyway, I’ve dated both Jin Yoorim and Eden—separately, across multiple loops.

I even once used all the data I’d gathered to try dating them both at the same time.

Surprisingly, none of those attempts triggered an immediate restart. The tension between the three of us just hovered—subtle, but always there.

In the end, though, things only worked when Jin Yoorim and Eden ended up together.

So when I told the obedient Jin Yoorim to go sleep with Eden, I immediately restarted.

Ha.

Anyway, the reason I’m digging up those half-insane memories now is simple.

Because the way Eden’s acting right now—it’s exactly how he was back when we were together.

Putting his clothes or accessories on me just to see how they look. Acting all cute, even when he knows it doesn’t suit him.

Honestly, if I’d known, it might’ve been easier to just claim that we’d been lovers in the last round.

Telling someone who thinks they love you, “You don’t love me—you love Jin Yoorim,” isn’t going to convince anyone.

If I could just make him realize it naturally, that’d be ideal… but things are never that easy.

If they were, I—ha.

Why is it that no matter how the conditions change, they never seem to change in my favor?

“Hyung, is this bread okay?”

“…Yeah. But what are you doing?”

“Being cute.”

He lifted a big loaf of bread with both hands, making an exaggeratedly adorable face.

I looked away with a quiet sigh.

That right there—that’s why, even back when we were failed idols, Eden was the group’s variety genius and “nation’s little brother.”

Just… could you save that act for the fans, not me?

…Anyway, let’s just make the damn seaweed soup.

If I end up resetting before I can taste it, I might actually lose it this time.

Eden, who somehow managed to stuff two of the largest loaves of bread into the cart, continued acting like a lunatic after that.

Holding two 1.8-liter bottles of milk in one hand—barely manageable even with both—he asked me with a perfectly serious face if we shouldn’t also buy two trays of eggs.

It was impossible to take him seriously when he was standing there, veins popping in his arm, holding everything by hand even though the cart was right in front of him.

As a guy myself, I could clearly see what he was trying to pull, but even I couldn’t bring myself to call him out on it. That would’ve been a little too cruel.

So instead, pretending not to notice anything, I took the milk from his hand and put it back on the shelf.

He didn’t need to buy two cartons when he could barely finish one anyway. More than that, I needed to calm down this overgrown child who was acting like it was his first time ever setting foot in a supermarket.

It wasn’t like he was a preschooler who wanted to throw everything he could grab into the cart.

On top of that, we were way too conspicuous. The only thing saving us was that it was a weekday morning and the place was nearly empty.

Two tall, broad guys dressed head-to-toe in black, wearing hats and masks, wandering around a grocery store—yeah, not exactly subtle.

There were more employees than customers, so the odds of anyone recognizing a one-year rookie idol group weren’t high. Still, given my past experiences, I wasn’t taking any chances.

If someone took a photo of just Eden and me together without Jin Yoorim in it, and it looked the least bit intimate?

Yeah, no question—we’d definitely trigger a restart.

From my past tests, dating was fine, but getting caught by others wasn’t. It had seemed funny at first, but honestly, that’s about as “idol-like” as it gets.

Or maybe it wasn’t that—it was probably because the condition required Jin Yoorim and Eden to end up together. As long as it looked like a secret affair that stayed hidden, the world seemed to tolerate it.

…Great. Now I was in an even worse mood than before.

I walked past Eden, who was holding two packs of kids’ step-up cheese in both hands and asking what the difference was.

Knowing I’d get annoyed if he just dumped them anywhere, he carefully set them back on the shelf and jogged to catch up with me.

“I get that you’re excited, but calm down, Eden the Kid.”

“Huh? I’m excited?”

With the same grin plastered on his face, he blinked slowly, looking genuinely clueless.

“Otherwise, what? Are you just crazy?”

“Haha… so I am excited right now?”

“Uh… no, I think you’re just insane.”

Ignoring my words completely, Eden covered his smiling mouth with his hand, as if even he found his grin awkward, and stopped walking.

This version of the regressor—one who had learned that he had to hide his regression and picked up just enough acting skills to fake it—was playing the part of someone rediscovering emotion.

But that was acting.

He’d been far happier earlier, when he’d put his hat on my head.

And while it might have been out of necessity, we had dated once. We’d spent years together as teammates too.

More importantly, Eden’s acting was never good enough to make it hard to tell when he was faking.

Sure enough, when I started walking again, he immediately followed behind with a calm, unbothered face.

“Hyung, you know you’re really cold only to me, right?”

“Yeah, good. Since you know, move out of the way—or just hand me the seaweed if you’re standing there.”

“Is seaweed really what matters right now? Did you even hear what I said?”

“……”

No, seriously, this kind of dialogue is for a variety show, not real life.

I was going to ignore him, but our timing couldn’t have been worse. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a staff uniform peeking around the corner at the end of our aisle.

I stared that way for a moment, then turned back to Eden—who was now wearing a smile so perfectly drawn it looked like it belonged in a script.

Ha… definitely deliberate.

So I smiled back at him just as brightly, eyes curving sweetly.

Because honestly, this time, I was really grateful.

So, you still don’t know the exact conditions for regression, huh?

Even if this conversation somehow leaked and rumors about discord between me and Eden started circulating, it wouldn’t trigger an immediate regression.

And something like that—if my dear regressor here cooperated even a little—could be dealt with surprisingly easily. I know because I’ve done it before.

The bigger problem, as always, is that it might look like I’m caught between Jin Yoorim and Eden again. That’s what really matters.

I stepped closer to Eden, close enough that it looked like I might pull him into a hug, and reached my arm around him.

Apparently, he’d regressed a few more times since the last loop we met, because this kind of physical contact—if you can even call it that—didn’t seem to faze him anymore.

“Oh… you didn’t even blink?”

“When else am I gonna get a chance to see hyung’s face this close?”

“Yeah, well. Go ahead, look all you want.”

And with that, I slipped my arm around his shoulder and grabbed the seaweed he’d been blocking on the shelf.

…Seriously, though—since when did cooking seaweed soup become this much of a struggle? Is this really how it’s supposed to go?

Feeling an almost existential wave of doubt, I clutched the dried seaweed carefully in my hand and checked my phone.

Just in time—Moon Taeyoung was calling.

Eden looked certain that I wouldn’t bother answering, but I gave him a quick glance—his oh-so-beloved regressor face—and cheerfully picked up the call.

If he hadn’t called, I was planning to anyway, so it worked out.

“Yeah, Taeyoung. Where are you right now?”

“…Hyung?”

“Perfect timing. I’m at the basement supermarket.”

“You actually called us? But we haven’t even talked about anything yet—”

He probably thought whatever leverage he had as a regressor was some kind of trump card.

Sorry, but a regressor who doesn’t even know the exact reset conditions isn’t worth much.

Sure, with his improved acting skills, he’d do great on camera… but even his pre-regression self was good enough for that. It’s not like regressing changed his face.

Honestly, Jin Yoorim’s the easier one to deal with. If I just throw out the right words, he’ll fall into place like always.

I lifted my hand toward Eden—who was making an odd expression—to shut him up, and answered Taeyoung’s pointless question as kindly as I could.

“What? You’re asking if you can come with Kim Dojun? Is that even something you need to ask?”

…Hey, I tried. That’s as polite as I get. “If you don’t want to carry the bags alone, then bring him” probably would’ve sounded worse, right?

Regardless of my intentions, Taeyoung—and probably Dojun, who must’ve been listening beside him—both seemed ridiculously pleased with my response.

They shouted that they’d be there soon and told me to wait, and only then did I realize how they’d interpreted my answer.

I wasn’t joking, but… well.

“…I’m hanging up.”

At my reaction, Eden—who had been wearing that unreadable look the entire time—suddenly burst into laughter, covering his face with one hand and bowing his head.

Whenever he does that, it’s obvious he’s trying too hard to look cool, which just makes it worse.

Honestly, this was probably the reason he’d never managed to seduce Jin Yoorim, even though the other guy had been ridiculously easy for me.

At least Eden had his looks to make up for it. If he didn’t… well, then again, since Jin Yoorim’s also a guy, maybe being too handsome would’ve actually been a disadvantage.

I looked at Eden, who was leaning against the dried goods section with one hand covering his face like he was posing for a 90s music video, and let out a quiet sigh.

Just like how I’d once pulled an SSR-grade Jin Yoorim in a previous round, maybe someday I’d get lucky enough to pull an SSR-grade Eden too.

Though, judging by the current situation… yeah, this wasn’t it. Ha. Great. Fantastic.

I wanted to get out of here as soon as possible, but if I left him alone like this, the staff member in the black uniform just beyond the aisle would definitely post something online.