HMN C26

Chapter 26

Daeyoung tilted his head slightly to one side. For a moment, he could almost understand how such rumors had spread. It was the beginning of the semester, and with a face like his, it would have been stranger if people hadn’t talked. The whispers—he’s popular, he’s handsome, he’s already seeing someone—had simply found him as their latest victim. Still, any measure of understanding was purely objective; it only applied to Go Chiwoo’s appearance.

You step onto the third stair and descend. Warmth and comfort wrap around you completely.

As Daeyoung’s gaze followed the imagined narration, it slid along the line of Chiwoo’s jaw down to his lips. Even tightly closed, they were perfectly shaped—proportionate, balanced, unnervingly symmetrical. This guy could make a hundred careers off his face alone. It’d be doing the country a favor if he just left campus for good.

Having finished critiquing his lips, Daeyoung’s eyes drifted back up to Chiwoo’s lids. Beneath them, the movement of his eyes was slow and light, the pupils faintly stirring.

“You step onto the final stair. Your body sinks deeper, heavier. When I snap my fingers, you’ll arrive at the threshold of your unconscious mind.”

His calm voice filled the quiet basement. One. Two. Three. He lifted his hand, carefully pressing his fingers together—

Snap.

“……”

Gulp. He swallowed. Chiwoo’s lips remained sealed. The pendant in his hand felt strangely warm, his chest fluttering with something he couldn’t name. Was he actually hypnotized?

“…What do you see in front of you?”

He focused every nerve on Chiwoo’s mouth. After several seconds, the lips parted slightly.

“A door.”

Gulp.

A single word. Daeyoung held his breath.

“There’s a white door. It’s closed.”

When Chiwoo’s voice followed, quiet and serene, Daeyoung unconsciously clamped a hand over his mouth. That face in front of him hadn’t twitched once; eyes still closed, features serene. Is this real? Did I actually hypnotize him this easily?

Thump. Thump. Thump. His heartbeat echoed loud in his ears.

In his mind’s eye, Go Chiwoo stared at a pure white door. It stood in the same spot where his own bedroom wall should have been—a simple wooden door, one he’d never seen, yet one that felt inexplicably familiar. When he’d reached the final step, the scenery had shifted to his old room, yet the addition of the door felt natural. A strange mix of stillness and comfort filled his limbs; despite standing upright, his body felt sunk into a softness like a mattress. He waited quietly, expecting Daeyoung’s voice to ripple through the air again.

“……”

Meanwhile, Daeyoung fought to keep his face composed, suppressing the swirl of satisfaction and disbelief battling beneath it. The dizzying thrill of maybe having actually succeeded in hypnotizing him clashed with the uncertainty of whether this was all just coincidence.

He adjusted his posture carefully, mind racing. If this is real, then you’re taking a break from school—you’re done.

“Does the door seem unusual in any way?”

A faint twitch of Chiwoo’s brow. Gulp. Daeyoung straightened his spine.

“Other than the light coming from inside, it’s just an ordinary door.”

The tiny furrow between his brows deepened, as though he truly saw it. A chill tingled straight through Daeyoung’s chest.

“Alright,” Daeyoung said more cautiously, voice low and deliberate. “We’ll open that door. The moment you do, you’ll step deeper into your unconscious and hear only my voice.”

“……”

No reply. But Chiwoo’s finger gave a minute twitch, as if gripping something unseen—perhaps the door handle inside his mind.

“…Did you open it?”

“Yes.”

His quiet answer snapped loose a fist pump from Daeyoung.

“Um… what do you see?”

He glanced around, eyes shifting like marbles. He’d succeeded in reaching the unconscious—but now what? Most hypnotists used such a state to instill confidence, revisit memories, heal trauma, or explore past lives. For them, though, the goal had been nothing more than seeing if it worked. Now the road ahead was blank.

Earlier, he’d promised, Then I’ll make you do something you’d never do. But the specifics had derailed somewhere in their bickering. No onions appeared magically nearby for an apple trick, no convenient prop for a performance. Maybe I’ll just make him dance?

“My uncle’s café.”

The sudden answer shot through his musings. Daeyoung’s eyes widened. Of course. The familiarity of that place made an idea spark instantly.

“…When I count to three, a café employee will begin his shift.”

He was summoning himself into Chiwoo’s mind—pure curiosity driving him now. Slowly, he counted and snapped his fingers.

Snap.

“Did your friend arrive?”

“Not a friend.”

“……”

What the hell? He mouthed a silent curse and exhaled through his nose.

“And… what is that person doing?”

“Lying down.”

“……”

Once again, silence. Seriously? Daeyoung had fallen near him once or twice in real life, but even in his subconscious? Unbelievable.

“…Will you help him up?”

“Why would I?”

“……”

He’s not hypnotized—he’s mocking me. The slump in Daeyoung’s shoulders turned heavy. The earlier suspicion that Chiwoo was faking it now felt all but confirmed. Maybe I should just shake him awake. Narrowing his eyes, he glared across the space, lips tightening. Finally, irritation spilled out.

“You start feeling the urge to be kind to Ahn Daeyoung.”

It was pure impulse. Any second now, Chiwoo would open his eyes, smirk, and say something like, So that’s all you wanted—for me to be nice to you? to which Daeyoung would shoot back, I just meant you should acquire some basic social skills.

His mind flickered again with that smug face that had once said, I’ve had plenty of confessions, but being pushed against a wall first—that was new. Grinding his teeth, Daeyoung went on, his tone lighter this time.

“When I count to ten, you’ll feel an overwhelming fondness for Ahn Daeyoung. The more you see him, the more that warmth will grow, and you’ll treat him with genuine kindness.”

“……”

“Ten… nine… eight…”

But even as he reached seven, Chiwoo barely twitched—only a faint crease flickering between his brows before his face went smooth again. Six… five… By then, whatever hint of tension had returned to calm. Dammit, why isn’t he waking up? No sign of irritation, no sudden reaction. Maybe he really was hypnotized… or maybe he was just a naturally infuriating person even in his unconscious.

Even if you delivered yourself to me by truck, I’d only take the truck.

Mutual. But I don’t even want the truck—you can have it.

Those words replayed, hardening his intent once more.

“…Three… two… one.”

Snap.

Half-skeptical, Daeyoung still rubbed his fingers together for the sound. Chiwoo didn’t open his eyes, only exhaled a long breath.

“……”

At some point, their faces had grown closer. The trace of Chiwoo’s scent brushed against Daeyoung’s nose—the same cologne he’d noticed before. Rich, smooth, and expensive, though not overpowering. Of course the prince would smell luxurious. Dragging himself out of that pointless tangent, Daeyoung bit his lip. Maybe the guy wasn’t mocking him after all.

“…Now will you help the fallen friend?”

Chiwoo’s brows pinched, then smoothed again.

“Did you help him up?”

“What the hell—so light. Are you a dog?”

“……”

Is he insane? The insult made Daeyoung’s lips curve down. He hated how thin he was; now even his subconscious had to hear it. Sure, technically, it meant he’d helped—but the phrasing? Typical. Whatever this was, hypnosis clearly couldn’t rewrite personality. If it could, the world wouldn’t have criminals. Sighing, he drew back a little.

“Now prepare to leave your unconscious. Open the door you came through. When I count to three, you’ll wake from the hypnosis.”

Nerves prickled through him again. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction would follow once those eyes opened—assuming they would. Between the confusion and the failure, he’d only managed to make Chiwoo “be nice.” God, wrong move. Should’ve gone with the hot sauce box instead of kindness. He glanced wistfully at a box marked Hot Sauce on the top shelf before sighing and counting anyway.

“One. Two. Three.”

For a moment, just before “two,” he considered leaving him as he was—eyes closed, quiet, blessedly motionless. But that wasn’t his style.

Snap.

The sound cracked the air, and Chiwoo’s eyelids lifted immediately—far too easily for someone “asleep.” His eyes, dark and lucid, blinked once, twice, before focusing squarely on Daeyoung’s face.

“……”

Like someone newly woken from a dream, his gaze lingered blankly, until the focus sharpened.

Gulp.

Their faces were breath-close—Daeyoung half-leaning forward, Chiwoo propped back. Each exhale brushed faintly between them. And then, softly, Chiwoo spoke.

“You.”

The low timbre made Daeyoung swallow dryly.

“……”

“You really like me, don’t you?”

“What?”

Daeyoung scowled, confusion blazing across his face. The hell is he talking about now? But Chiwoo, pushing off from the wall, caught his wrist instead—leaning closer still.

“Why else would you hypnotize me into falling for you?”

“……”

Speechless. His mind blanked for a full second. The arrogance—the gall—he remembered every line he had spoken. He hadn’t said that. He knew he hadn’t. He stared, wide-eyed, then frowning hard.

“…When did I ever say ‘fall for me’? I was teaching you human decency—you’re the one who doesn’t reach out when someone falls. I was trying to instill basic empathy, that’s all. Do you even—”

His words broke off sharply. Chiwoo’s face had shifted closer, enough that Daeyoung reflexively fell back onto the floor. Yet Chiwoo followed, leaning down, eyes half-lidded but unwavering. Their proximity drew the air taut between them.