Inkbound Hearts: Controlled by Love
The World That Was Too Perfect
There are two kinds of worlds.
The ones that feel alive—
Messy, unpredictable, imperfect.
And the ones that feel…
written.
The world Kim Taehyung lived in—
was the second kind.
At exactly 6:30 every morning, the curtains in his bedroom would sway slightly, as if touched by a gentle breeze that never arrived too early or too late.
At 6:32, sunlight would fall across the marble floor in a precise golden rectangle.
At 6:35, a servant would knock twice—never once, never three times.
At 6:36, the door would open.
Servant
“Good morning, Young Master.”
The same tone. The same pitch.The same smile. Every day.
And Taehyung—
would always respond the same way.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“Good morning.”
But today—
something was different. He didn’t answer immediately. The servant froze for half a second.
Just half. Barely noticeable.
Then repeated—
Servant
“Good morning, Young Master.”
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…You already said that.”
The servant smiled again.
Exactly the same.
Servant
“Good morning, Young Master.”
Silence filled the room. A strange uneasiness crept into Taehyung’s chest. Not fear. Not yet.
But something was wrong.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…Leave,”
He said quietly. The servant bowed and exited. At exactly 6:37.
The door clicked shut. And the room fell silent again. Too silent.
The Room That Never Changed
Taehyung sat up slowly on his bed, his fingers brushing against the silk sheets beneath him. Everything in the room was flawless. Too flawless.
The bed was always perfectly made—even after he slept in it. The flowers on the table never wilted.
The clock never ticked louder or softer. Even the air—
felt controlled.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood up. Walking toward the mirror across the room. His reflection appeared. Perfect. Soft brown hair falling neatly over his forehead. Sharp features. Calm expression.
A face people admired. A face that looked like it belonged to a main character.
But—
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…Why do I feel like I’m not?”
His voice sounded strange to his own ears. As if it wasn’t fully his. He raised his hand. The reflection followed. Perfectly. He tilted his head. The reflection copied him.
Exactly.
But then—
For one second—
It didn’t.
Taehyung froze. His reflection…was still smiling. While he wasn’t.
His breath caught in his throat.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…What…?”
The reflection blinked. And suddenly— moved again in sync. As if nothing had happened.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…What was that…?”
Taehyung stumbled back slightly. His heart began to beat faster. Not naturally. Not steadily. But like something was forcing it to continue. A sharp pain stabbed through his chest.
He clutched his shirt tightly. His knees almost giving out.
And then—
The Memory That Wasn’t His
Images flooded his mind. Not like dreams. Not like memories. But like scenes. Flat. Framed. Like… panels. He saw himself. Lying on the cold marble floor of the mansion. Servants gathered around him. Panicked voices. Blurred faces. But the focus—
was on him.
His body— still. Lifeless. Above the scene— written in bold—
System
[System Notification]
“Kim Taehyung — Death Scene.”
“Cause: Sudden Heart Failure.”
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“That’s not real…”
But the image didn’t fade. It lingered.
Burned into his mind.
Then— A voice. Not from outside. Not from anyone. From somewhere deeper.
System
[System Notification]
“Character: Kim Taehyung.”
“Role: Cannon fodder.”
“Narrative purpose: To create emotional impact.”
“End of role: Death.”
Taehyung laughed. Soft. Unstable.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“…So that’s it?”
His hands trembled slightly.
Kim Taehyung ( MC )
“I live… just to die?”
No answer came. Because in stories—Characters don’t get answers.
The door slammed open violently. Taehyung flinched, turning sharply.
Standing there—
was Jeon Jungkook.
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