Chapter 1: Am I Dreaming?

To this day, I still remember everything about Gu Fan.

Whether it was him coughing up blood in public and still managing to flash a perfect smile to the crowd, or those chance encounters on the street where he forced out a pale smile just to greet me as if nothing had ever happened between us.

It was a phone call from Gu Fan’s mother that had me unknowingly downing three cans of beer.

Only then did I learn how severe his illness had become.

The kind of tragedy that only happens in stories had arrived at my doorstep, and I didn’t even know how to react.

I was the one who threw a tantrum back then, insisting on cutting ties with the boy I had grown up with.

Just a few days later, I regretted it, but Gu Fan seemed determined—he never tried to approach me like he used to.

Being the passive person I am, I could only watch helplessly as our relationship drifted further apart, too afraid to do anything about it.

Tsk.

Why is it that people only think about changing their cowardly nature when things have become truly irreversible?

I leaned against a street sign, finished the last of my beer, and tossed the can into the trash.

Maybe it was from staying up all night, or maybe the alcohol had dulled my senses—my steps were unsteady and swaying.

I boarded the familiar bus and sat down on one of its old iron seats, which let out an ear-piercing creak.

After all these years, isn’t it about time this old thing retired?

And yet, right before such an important moment, my mind was occupied with these random, pointless thoughts.

What should I even say to him?

I spent the whole night thinking and still came up with nothing.

If you ask me what I want most right now… it might be to go back and make up for all the friendship I lost over the years…

My groggy mind couldn’t connect the dots any further.

The gears turned a few clicks before coming to a dry, grinding halt, like a machine in desperate need of oil.

The bus rumbled forward steadily, its gentle swaying lulling out the sleepiness hiding inside me, quietly creeping up my brain.

By the time I realized it, my body was already slumping sideways like a kite with a severed string, leaning toward the empty seat beside me.

No… I can’t fall asleep now…

As my head touched the armrest with a dull thud, my consciousness burst like a fragile soap bubble, dissolving into the endless air around me.

* * *

Mmm… my neck is so sore.

As my mind slowly reconnected with my body, I saw—through a blur of tear—the worn, circular handrails and the digital display above the driver’s seat, its text scrolling in a fuzzy stream.

Yep, still on the bus.

If no staff woke me up, that means we haven’t reached the hospital yet… right?

But… why does something feel off?

My thoughts felt different, like they’d turned quieter, more delicate, handling information with a soft precision.

The numbing effect of alcohol had dulled a bit, though it was still there.

My head seemed to be resting on something firm yet springy—warm too.

Warm enough to make my ears heat up.

Still dazed, I gave up on the idea of sitting up to look.

With half-lidded eyes, I let my gaze drift vaguely over my body.

There were… strange new sensations.

It felt like I had a bunch of extra sensory nodes, like my entire neural network had been restructured—everything felt unfamiliar… and overly sensitive?

Tch.

On second thought, yeah, ‘sensitive’ is probably the best word for it.

The heaviness in my chest was probably just from a weird sleeping position—it’d go away soon.

But why were there such distinct points of pressure on both my head and… my butt?

Even a light touch sent a ticklish jolt through me.

Weird.

This is seriously weird. About a minute after waking, I finally wiped away the sleep-tears clinging to the corners of my eyes.

Rubbing my slightly sore neck, I instinctively turned my head to see what I had been sleeping against.

“Uh?! Gu Fan?!”

My voice shot up, sharp with surprise.

Even from just a side profile, I could tell—the man sitting next to me was definitely Gu Fan.

His sudden appearance delayed my realization that my voice had come out way too high.

“How was your nap?”

Gu Fan asked casually, giving a light shrug of the shoulder I’d been leaning on, glancing at me with his usual calm.

“Ah… not bad.”

I mumbled.

“Wipe your face. We’re almost at the stop.”

Like it was the most natural thing, Gu Fan pulled a small pack of wet wipes from the side pocket of his backpack, opened it, and handed it to me along with the wrapper.

I didn’t expect… even a dream version of Gu Fan to be this considerate.

“Oh… thanks.”

Okay.

That confirms it. This voice—definitely a girl’s.

While wiping my face, I glanced down.

Tch tch.

Definitely dreaming.

No way a guy like me would ever have this much chest.

“You… you’re not even blushing?”

“Hm? What’s that supposed to mean?”

So what, you’re looking down on me now? Sure, I’m a socially inept little coward in real life, but that doesn’t mean I have to be like that here too.

Ugh.

Getting dominated by a normie even in a dream—how tragic is that?

“I’m not that timid of a person. Stop looking at me through your outdated assumptions.”

Let’s be real: I only had the guts to say this because I was in a dream—a fleeting, unreal world where nothing had consequences.

If this were real life, my mouth would’ve been trembling too hard to even open.

“Huh? Oh… alright.”

Gu Fan froze.

Then his expression shifted rapidly, like he was seeing me in a whole new light.

He nodded seriously, as if accepting this new version of me,even giving a small, approving hum.