Archive of Our Own ^beta

In the new world, Jin-woo realised one thing: He didn't always have control over who Remembered.

It was a curious thing: He had grown used to being in control. Power was heady like that; it gave you the ability to choose who remembered and who didn't. It gave you the ability to manipulate memories and plant fake ones. So it was curious indeed that he was sometimes powerless as to who Remembered.

Woo Jin-chul was one such person. Jin-woo had had no intention of letting the previous Chairman of the Hunter Association remember his past life. And yet one touch of their fingers had brought it all rushing to his mind. To this day Jin-woo still wasn't sure what the exact reason was. He had guesses, sure, but that's all they were. It could be mental fortitude. It could be an open mind. More likely though, he thought it was exposure to his own powers.

After all, Woo Jin-chul had witnessed first-hand his shadow ants ripping apart a criminal. He had seen Beru and, when Jin-woo had recalled Beru's memories of the scene, he realised that seeing Beru could have sparked a faint memory or feeling in Woo Jin-chul. Whatever it was, it had been enough to open his mind, to maybe make him want to remember.

That guess coincided with Hae-in's remembrance. Jin-woo, in a rare bout of indecisiveness, could not decide if he wanted to let her remember or not. He wanted to share his memories with her, wanted to let her remember the previous life they'd had, the promises they made. Deep down, he wanted her to know what he'd done to meet her again. But on the flipside – was there a reason for her to know? The whole reason he'd gone back and chosen to let everyone forget was so that they'd all live normal, peaceful lives. He'd already messed it up with Woo Jin-chul and Go Gunhee; he wasn't going to do it again.

He wasn't given a choice. Hae-in remembered all on her own, and she didn't even realise it – she thought he'd given her back her memories. That wasn't the case, although if the end result was the same, he didn't see why he should correct her.

Whatever it is, whatever the reason, the point remains that two people remembered without Jin-woo's intervention.

It happened after Christmas, barely a month after they officially got together. Jin-woo and Hae-in were enjoying a quiet day at home after they'd both had an equally busy week. Jin-woo had thought himself a patient man; after all, he hadn't rushed this life, had he? He had many goals and people to meet, and he'd let them happen naturally. And yet – not seeing her this week had been challenging. Jin-woo chalked it up to waiting years for this to happen and when it finally did, they were both too busy to spend much time together.

At least he wasn't the only one feeling the distance: Hae-in had barely left his side all afternoon. There was a movie on the TV in front of them and she seemed invested, but Jin-woo couldn't tell you the plot if his life depended on it. He was too focused on her soft form curled up into his side, and his arm had come around her sometime during the movie. Her head was resting on his shoulder, overwhelming his senses with the smell of her shampoo – and it was perfect. This was the life he'd fought twenty seven years for in the dimensional rift. This was worth the sacrifices he'd made when he traded in his previous life for this.

His thoughts immediately ground to a halt when he felt wetness on his t-shirt. Hae-in's hand lifted hurriedly to wipe at her eyes, and Jin-woo, brow furrowed, gently took her by the shoulders and moved her back to get a good look at her face.

"Sorry," she said immediately, wiping at her cheeks. "I don't know why I'm crying."

Jin-woo silently assessed her. She wasn't meeting his gaze, and her tears wouldn't stop flowing.

"Really?" he whispered, giving her an out. For now. They'd have to talk about it eventually.

Hae-in sighed, looking at him hesitantly. "I don't know what I'm seeing for sure," she amended.

Jin-woo looked at her silently for another few seconds. She was awfully calm, like she'd had a lot of time to think about it before she started crying.

"I think you do."

Her expression crumpled, immediately bringing on a fresh flood of tears. "So – it's true," she said haltingly. "There was...another life before this."

Jin-woo nodded slowly. Hae-in stared at him uncomprehendingly. Her hands were suspended between them, curled as if she couldn't decide whether to lay them in her lap or grab a hold of his t-shirt.

"But that can't be," she whispered. "Because it means – Jin-woo-ya," she said, her voice tinted with grief, "tell me you didn't fight a war all by yourself. That you didn't let the world – me – all of us – forget you. Just so we wouldn't have gates again...!"

Jin-woo smiled softly, his grip gentle on her shoulders. Hae-in's expression, if possible, crumpled further. Her hands finally made a decision and curled into fists in his t-shirt, pulling him towards her. His arms wove around her back to better accommodate the lack of space.

He let her work through her emotions. Come to terms with it. Jin-woo had long since made his decision; he had to give others a chance to process it. After all, hadn't Norma Selner responded similarly when she'd realised what he'd intended to do?

"I can't believe you," she whispered against his neck a while later. The shadows had lengthened across the floor as the afternoon had grown later, and in that time, Jin-woo had held Hae-in as she had held onto him as if he might disappear again.

Jin-woo merely hummed in reply. Then she said, "You kept your promise."

Of course he did. Jin-woo wanted to be with the people he loved and those who loved him. That was the only thing that kept him going for twenty seven years. So of course he was going to see her again. It had just taken a little while.

"I thought the first time I met you was at the track meet," she said, "but it was actually years before that outside the ice cream shop."

Jin-woo smiled faintly. "You remembered that?"

"You waited that long, huh?" Now she pulled back, looking into his eyes while her hands still gripped his t-shirt.

Jin-woo shrugged, as if it was no big deal. And it wasn't really, not to him. But he could see in her eyes that it was to her. Her gaze softened, and her hands flexed, as if she was about to pull him towards her, but then her eyes widened and she jerked backward, nearly falling off the couch in her haste. Jin-woo sighed, sending a mental thought inward: Really, guys?

Sorry, came a few sheepish replies.

Jin-woo didn't offer an explanation. She would remember from her memories that he had shadow soldiers, but this would be the first time in this life seeing them. It would be a shock for anyone, and she seemed slightly embarrassed as she righted herself on the sofa and cleared her throat. No need to amplify that. Yet. He could hold off on the teasing for a bit.

"Sorry," she said. "Just surprised me. I recognise that face," she said, pointing over his shoulder.

Jin-woo turned his head slightly to see which shadow had so blatantly revealed themself. Unsurprisingly, it was Beru. He gave a wave. Hae-in looked faintly ill.

"He's just – friendly now? No murderous urges?"

Jin-woo smirked a bit. "Only towards those who deserve it. Don't worry, he's on his best behaviour for you."

Now back to the Shadow Realm, he told Beru.

Yes, my Liege.

Jin-woo focused on Hae-in again. "They get a bit overexcited. Not much entertainment for them these days."

Hae-in had the face of someone slowly coming to a realisation. "So they're just in your shadow all the time?"

Jin-woo shrugged.

Her eyes widened. "That means – that means –"

Now she was walking into it, really. How could he resist a little light teasing? He assumed obliviousness. "That means what?"

She looked at him wide-eyed, then moved back so there was a reasonable distance between them. Jin-woo couldn't help laughing, which only seemed to embarrass her further.

"Hae-in-ya," he said, still chuckling, "I promise they don't see everything. Not if I don't want them to."

She squinted at him suspiciously. "And I'm supposed to believe they just listen to you?"

"Yes."

She paused at his self-assured answer, then seemed to shrug off the thought. "Your shadows distracted me from what I wanted to say."

"What would that be?"

She frowned at him. "Who else remembers?"

"Woo Jin-chul."

"That's it?"

"And Go Gunhee."

She frowned contemplatively. Jin-woo leaned forward to catch her gaze, and she came back from wherever she was as she stared into the middle distance. He gave her a smile he hoped spoke volumes, because Jin-woo always spoke with his actions, not his words. What he felt for her – that was reflected in everything he'd done to see her again since resetting the world. And resetting the world – that reflected his determination to right every wrong that had been done to them. Everything else in between didn't matter. He wanted her to see that, so that she could come to terms with her own feelings. And, like no one else in the world, Cha Hae-in seemed to read him like a book. She let out a slow breath, then brought herself closer to fit herself into his side once again.

After a few moments of them watching the TV, she said, "It's not entirely the same though, is it?"

"What's not the same?"

"Us. The people. Bonds are formed with experiences and strengthened through memories. Without those...your relationships now are different, aren't they?" She looked up at him, but Jin-woo found it hard to meet her gaze. Nonetheless, she pushed forward: "That in itself is a kind of loss. I'm glad you gave my memories back to me, because I want you to have all of me. I may not be the same as the previous me, and she had qualities I don't, but I love you all the more now that I know you chose me again."

She lifted a hand to direct his face towards hers, so that he had to meet her gaze. She offered him a smile. She leaned in to kiss him. And Jin-woo tried to tell her everything he felt through that kiss, because he wasn't nearly as articulate as she was. She smiled against his lips, so he figured he was successful, and then they went back to watching the movie.

It was perfect. It was peaceful. It was everything he wanted.