JOSHUA (4)

I have always moved like the wind—unseen, unheard, forgotten the moment I passed. Even now, seventeen years older, heavier with the weight of shadows in my bones and the fire of vengeance carved into every muscle and tendon, I walk like a whisper in a city that has long since forgotten my name. But I haven’t forgotten. Not a single street. Not a single breath. Not him.

This city is a monster—alive with its own breath and heartbeat: honking horns, neon reflections off wet pavement, voices bleeding into each other like spilled ink. Beautiful chaos. Indifferent and cruel. But I see the order in its madness. I’ve trained to find patterns in a storm, to move with the rhythm of war. To me, this city is just another battlefield. Another place where I will fight. This time, not with blades. But with devotion. With patience. With obsession.

I’m not here for a mission. Not anymore. The days of taking orders, of being someone else's ghost, are long behind me. I’m not a soldier of the clan now. I’m something else. Something far more dangerous. A man with nothing left to lose but everything left to love.

I’m here for Seokmin.

My motorcycle howls through the night like a beast unchained, matching the furious thrum of my heart. I can feel the engine vibrating beneath me like a second pulse, one that doesn’t let me forget why I’ve returned. My stolen machine races through alleys and under rusted bridges, screams down empty highways, its tires kissing the asphalt like I used to kiss his skin—fast, hungry, desperate.

I don't have a destination. Not yet. But my heart—my cursed, loyal, bloodied heart—has already arrived. It beats for this city. For him. For the ghost of a life I left behind. For the warmth of the man who once held me like I was something more than a weapon. My Seokmin.

God, Seokmin.

Even his name feels holy in my mouth. Sacred. A sin and a salvation. The man I was trained to forget, erased by pain, distance, and manipulation. But love—true, unbearable love—it doesn’t fade. It becomes something worse. Something sharper.

It becomes obsession.

I remember his smile like a scar. I remember his laugh like a lullaby. I remember the way he used to look at me—like I was human. Like I was worth something. And when I close my eyes, I still see him crying for me, screaming my name as they dragged me into the shadows. That was the last moment of sunlight I ever felt—his tears. His voice.

They took everything from me. My name. My face. My freedom.

But they couldn’t take him from my heart.

The temple didn’t burn with fire. It burned with steel. And I held the blade. My Master—the one who stole seventeen years of my life, who turned me into a ghost, who lied about Seokmin, who carved loyalty into my spine with a whip—died with wide, unblinking eyes. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. My hand was steady. The blade didn’t tremble. Because it wasn’t vengeance. It was justice. It was a promise fulfilled. I killed him with the same hands that had once traced Seokmin’s spine. I killed him with the same love that had been denied me.

I burned the records. Dismantled the trail. I erased myself from the clan’s history. I made myself a myth, a memory. I’m dead to the world. But this time, it wasn’t exile. It was resurrection.

Now, I can choose who I become.

I hadn’t planned to see Seokmin. Not yet. I was supposed to prepare. Build a new name, a new life. Find a home close to his, a job that put me in his orbit. I wanted to appear in his life like fate, not like a ghost. But fate never cared about my plans.

It happened in the most ordinary of ways. A red light. A turn of the head. A glimpse across the road. A gym.

And there he was.

Seokmin.

Time hadn’t changed him—it had refined him. His body was stronger, broader. His walk was heavier, burdened by years of responsibility. But his eyes. God, his eyes. Still the same. Still warm. Still soft. Still the color of every good thing I’d ever known.

I forgot how to breathe.

He looked at me. Really looked. Our eyes met. And in that fraction of a second, the world stilled. Everything else blurred—the cars, the lights, the noise. All I saw was him.

And then panic.

My instincts screamed louder than my heart. I vanished. A turn. A leap. I was gone before he could even blink. I melted into the shadows like I had a thousand times before. I watched from a rooftop, heart pounding, lungs tight, body frozen. Below me, Seokmin walked inside the gym, unaware of how close he had been to the ghost of his past.

I wanted to run to him. To hold him. To fall at his feet and weep.

But I didn’t.

I couldn’t.

He couldn’t see me like this. Not yet. Not covered in invisible blood. Not wearing the skin of a killer. Seokmin deserved more. He deserved someone clean. Gentle. Whole.

I would become that man. For him. I would.

I would change everything. My name. My face. My life. I’d build a world around him without ever making him feel trapped. I’d find work near his gym, maybe something in logistics or tech. I’d rent a flat nearby, keep my presence subtle, gentle, slow. I’d be a stranger at first. A helpful face. A kind voice. Someone harmless.

Until maybe—just maybe—he’d let me in again.

I whispered the name I would take into the wind. It wasn’t mine. But it would be. A name he could learn without fear. A name I could hide behind while I studied him, learned the shape of his new life, made myself useful to him in ways that wouldn’t frighten him.

Because I would do anything for him. Anything.

I’ve killed for him.

I’ve died for him.

And now—I will live for him.

I don’t care if it takes years. I don’t care if I have to lie, manipulate, crawl my way back into his world like a shadow begging for sunlight. I don’t care if I have to watch him from afar, smiling at strangers, loving someone else.

I’ll wait.

I’ll endure.

Because love isn’t easy. It’s not gentle. It’s a war. And I’ve been a warrior all my life. But now, my battlefield is his heart. And I will win. I will reclaim what was stolen from me.

Even if I have to burn the world down.

The city below buzzes with life. Seokmin is somewhere in that crowd. Breathing. Laughing. Living. I feel him in the air. And I want to scream. I want to rip open the sky and tell the world: He’s mine.

But I don’t.

I stand still, crouched on the edge of a rooftop, watching the lights flicker on the windows of the gym. His silhouette moves inside—lifting, pacing, pausing.

I ache.

God, I ache.

Every part of me is on fire with need. To see him up close. To hear his voice. To touch his hand. To be known by him again. But I can’t ruin it. Not by rushing. Not by forcing it.

This has to be perfect.

So I vanish again. Into the shadows. Into the cracks of the city.

Not as a soldier.

Not as a ghost.

But as a man reborn by love and obsession.

Seokmin is my salvation. My sin. My reason. And I will have him. I don’t care how long it takes. I don’t care how many lies I have to tell, how many masks I have to wear.

I’ll rewrite every rule of fate until our paths align again.

And this time... I won’t let him go.

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