Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

After everything that had happened in his lifetime and the previous one, Till thought he would be pretty justified in screaming his lungs out at random times of the day wherever he wished. Really, he ought to have that privilege. 

It was incredibly annoying, infantilizing even, to only be seen as a rebellious teenager by people who were supposed to be his age. Granted, he looked like a high schooler—he was one, but in reality, he was actually older than them, okay? Way older than them. Not to mention that he’d lived a lifetime in a post-apocalyptic world and gone through a series of traumatic events where his friends died one by one in front of his eyes. One of them had even died for his sake, and from that second up until today, Till had never truly processed that. Who could he talk with—Luka? That guy would’ve taken advantage of his vulnerability, and Till couldn’t have that. He had to win, after everything. 

And in this world…it was even harder to find someone he could truly connect to. 

When he’d first ‘woken up’ in this world, it had been the morning of his sixth birthday. He thought he’d been resurrected, made to play a part in the aliens’ twisted experiment or something. What even was a birthday cake? He had rebelled against his ‘parents’, broken a bunch of things, and when they hadn’t gotten angry at him, he’d even tried running away. But the moment he opened the front door, he looked up at the sky and his legs trembled. He’d blamed his body—he wasn’t used to being so small—but the truth was he had cried. 

He had sobbed, hugging himself and hiding his own face behind his knees. He had thought, then, whether this was an experiment or a beautiful dream, he would play along. It was better than whatever that hellhole had been. 

The first person he recognized in this world was Sua. He met her in class one day. He hadn’t even recognized her at first, since he was sitting three rows behind her. Her hair reached her back, so unlike the Sua he’d known once, but when she turned around to talk to a classmate, he recognized her. 

And then— Well. There was nothing else to say, right? 

And then, he met Mizi, and Hyuna who was one grade above her, and he even met that fucker Luka, who turned out to not be so insane this time around. It turned out most people wouldn’t get fucked up unless they were pushed to the very edge. He guessed the old Luka’d gotten pushed past the edge on the previous season of Alien Stage. Maybe he had been human before then, but then again, from what Till knew from Hyuna…maybe not. 

Unsurprisingly, none of them remembered. Till must be special, in a way. In a very bad way. Was this his prize for winning that shitty competition? The world decided to resurrect them—if this wasn’t an experiment, that was—and have him remember while everyone else got to start anew. It made him angry. How could he genuinely be happy with so much weighing him down? How could he— 

All he knew was anger. Maybe it was because he’d died full of resentment that he wasn’t allowed to live in peace. He couldn’t even delude himself that his past life had been one big nightmare because it all felt too real. He couldn’t—didn’t want to spit on their struggle like that. 

Nowadays, he ignored everyone he knew in the past. Seeing them was like being slapped in the face, and he knew it wasn’t their fault, but it wasn’t his either. Was it wrong of him to envy how they could smile so freely, take the sun and skies for granted? He wasn’t a child, but looking at them made him feel like he wasn’t human either. He was stuck somewhere, not having died properly. 

Till had never known peace. In Anakt Garden—his earliest memories—the children hadn’t known peace. They lived their lives to the fullest, making friends and doing things children do, but they weren’t stupid. Their smiles and laughs were never completely genuine because everyone knew that they were just lambs to the slaughter. 

This was a freedom freely given, something he didn’t deserve after seeing everyone die before him. Die for him. He didn’t know what to do with it at all, so he ignored. Thankfully, those people didn’t feel anything toward him, didn’t try to get to know him even when they were in the same classes, and Till never joined any school clubs so ignoring was easy. 

Ignoring had been easy. Until he came along. 

Out of everyone, Till had been dreading his appearance the most. After three years of not meeting him all throughout middle school, and then the next two years in high school, he’d even been hoping that maybe he’d never get to meet him at all. At least not in this darned school where the world seemed so small. In university, it would be easier. So many different majors with different classes and different schedules—avoiding people would be as easy as falling off a log. Who’d expect him to suddenly appear during Till’s last year? And in the same class, no less? 

In front of the class, Ivan introduced himself with a smile. 

Till didn’t know where to even begin. First of all, seeing him with a baby face when the last time he’d seen him had been when he’d died was a whiplash and a half. For some reason, Till hadn’t felt like he’d time-traveled when he first saw Sua, but seeing Ivan… He looked so different. His face was still the same as when he’d been this age, but he looked more…friendly. Way more friendly. The teacher told him to sit on the back, the last empty chair was next to Till, and Ivan smiled and waved at the classmates as he passed by them. 

Till scrunched up his nose and looked away. He bet the girls would like him. If Ivan was into that kind of thing. 

Ivan hadn’t talked to him. They sat next to each other, and at most he would greet him with a good morning. And that was only when Till wasn’t late to class, which was a rare occurrence. When he did come late, the boy wouldn’t even look at him, engrossed with either the teacher’s explanation or his book. Till should’ve known he would be like this. In his last life, Ivan had been the same way. It was only at the end that he showed his resistance, but up until that second, he’d been prim and proper, the perfect slave. 

And now he was the perfect student. 

Till was happy for him, really. He didn’t remember either. It seemed Ivan, like Luka, didn’t turn out to be so…extreme in their ways. Ivan could have genuine friends now, always surrounded by people even though he’d just been here for a month. 

No, really, Till was happy for him. If he were jealous of anybody, it’d be all of them for somehow managing to forget their traumatic past. Why would he be jealous of anyone else? He was just a little emotional because the reminder of said past was now made to sit beside him every weekday. It was justified. 

He really was happy. Till gripped his pencil tightly and looked away. 

Hearing the conversation on the table next to him, he wanted to throw this pencil in their direction. Because they were being loud. Couldn’t they take this elsewhere? 

He wanted to laugh a bit. Of course, Luka was different. The others were different as well, in their own ways. Not that he’d bothered actually getting to know them this time around, but the same person growing up in two different places would turn out different, so why… Why was he still expecting Ivan to look at him? 

Till should be happy. Ivan looked happier. If he hadn’t been so obsessed over Till in their past life, he might have even won the competition. A score of 90 was rare to see, after all, and he wouldn’t have been shaken by Luka’s taunts. In a way, hadn’t he died because of Till? So Till should at least be happy for him now, after everything. 

But maybe, because of the lack of processing, the lack of genuine friends, the lack of everything, Till had become his own flavor of fucked up. Because instead of being happy, he felt resentful. Why— why?! Now when he longed for Ivan’s gaze, the guy didn’t spare him a single one. Ivan looked at him without the intensity he always had in the past, looked at him like they didn’t know the taste of each other’s lips. His eyes now regarded Till as an acquaintance he knew only the name of. Till didn’t even know if he’d rather this or to not be looked at all. Was this karma? Was this their fate? For one to look and the other to ignore? 

His pencil broke in his grip. Till couldn’t take it anymore. 

Somehow, somehow, he needed to have Ivan’s gaze on him. Ivan should be grateful that Till wasn’t an insane creep like him—Till wasn’t about to sacrifice his own life to get Ivan to look at him which would traumatize him for the rest of his life and the next. No, Till was normal, and he would get Ivan through normal means. 

I hate you. I want you. I like you. 

Chapter Text

The world must be out to get his ass, seriously. 

First, it’d rained while he was walking to school, so he’d had to go back to change because he sure as hell wasn’t going through his classes all wet and uncomfortable. This, of course, had the butterfly effect of him not getting his “good morning, Till” from Ivan. Not that that mattered. Obviously, it wasn’t Till’s fault—he was human; humans forgot to bring their umbrellas sometimes. Who told the damn sky to rain? 

And then, out of nowhere, Mr. James told them to stay behind after class. This was the moment that Till’s carelessness of this life came to bite him in the ass. With the excuse of making friends, and of course, mentioning the fact that Ivan’d gotten the perfect score in their last science exam while Till had failed miserably, Mr. James asked Ivan if he’d like to help tutor a friend. Really, was it his fault that the act of studying became very boring after he’d faced death in the eye? It felt inconsequential after knowing that the first few myths he’d heard from his past life turned out to be false. Then again, maybe the earth here and the one back then were just…different. 

Ivan readily agreed, which was both a good and bad thing. This was a good opportunity to get closer to him, but Till wasn’t fucking ready yet, okay? The boy nodded and smiled at the teacher, which was a bit scary because it kind of reminded Till of when he would do that for the aliens back then, and then said his goodbyes and started pushing Till out the door. Pushing Till gently with his hand on the small of his back. Till blinked, following him out and watching speechlessly as he closed the classroom door. 

No, actually, he hadn’t spoken a word since Mr. James called them over, but that was hardly his fault, right? And this, this—had this Ivan always been so touchy? Did he just never realize it because he hadn’t actually talked to the guy? 

Ivan started walking away, and Till soon followed. There was only one way out of the school, so Till had assumed they were just…walking out, but when they finally reached the front gates, Ivan said, “Do you mind going to my house? It’s pretty near, don’t worry.” 

Till wasn’t worried about the distance, but thanks. “We’re doing this right now?” 

Ivan blinked at him, just as confused. “The next test is in two days.” 

Whoa. That teacher really set Till up to fail, huh? 

Perhaps seeing something unpleasant in Till’s expression, Ivan added with a shrug, “I mean, I’m fine if you want to do it tomorrow, but I don’t know if we’d have enough time.” Yeah, Till’s score must look worrying to a straight A student like him. 

“No, no, let’s do it today. Sorry, I forgot about the test.” 

Ivan, bless his heart, didn’t comment. 

Ivan’s house was indeed near. It was also so big, it was practically a mansion. 

Till’s jaw fell open in awe when he saw it. He nearly didn’t believe his eyes when Ivan started typing in the PIN for the front gates. When he walked in, Till followed behind him on autopilot, looking at the garden full of shaped trees and bright, colorful flowers he couldn’t name. He took off his shoes while wiping his drool before following Ivan inside. 

“You can sit down, make yourself at home. I’m gonna change.” 

“Mm-kay,” Till said without much attention, too preoccupied with looking around. Wow. So the earth version of Ivan lived just as lavishly as his past self, huh? He really shouldn’t be here; he was sold for sale for god’s sake, and now he was inside a house that he’d never be able to buy in his two lifetimes. Till shouldn’t be surprised that there was a giant chandelier in Ivan’s living room, but he was. What the heck. And the ceiling was so high up that he wouldn’t even be able to reach it were he to jump on the couch. 

When Ivan walked back out of his room—which, now that Till thought about it, he’d be very interested to see—Till was still looking around in wonder and a little bit of envy he’d never admit to anybody. When he finally looked at Ivan, Till felt his jaw fall open once again involuntarily. 

Ivan…looked very different from when he was at school. He wore a black tank top and black joggings, which was completely normal although Till hated how every piece of clothing looked good and expensive on him—if Till wore a branded item, it would probably look like a fake in the eyes of others—but worst of all, Ivan was wearing a black earring. 

An earring.  

What the actual fuck?  

“Till, are you even paying attention?” Ivan asked, sounding utterly exasperated. 

Till was shaken out of his daydreaming, Ivan’s face so close in front of him. It was too dazzling, and especially with that earring... Till backed away then blinked at him, hoping to come off as innocent but he knew he’d never looked innocent a day in his life. “I was! I was…reflecting on the atoms?” he lied like a loser. 

It had been two hours, yet Till hadn’t learnt anything new. He couldn’t focus at all. 

Ivan looked like he wanted to palm his face in second hand embarrassment. Till would, too, if he weren’t the one who just said such an embarrassing thing. “Riiight…” Ivan said instead, which wasn’t any better at all. 

Till sighed. “Sorry, Ivan. I think I’m just bad at this.” Not that he was good at anything in this life. He just couldn’t bring himself to do anything, couldn’t find the motivation, which he still rightfully thought wasn’t his fault at all. The last time he had a reason, it came in the form of a pink-haired girl who he could no longer lay his eyes on without getting reminded of unpleasant things. 

The only thing he could make a career out of was his singing, but that would bring too much trauma. Looking at the popular singers of today, he felt like they weren’t so different from the contestants of Alien Stage, the only difference being the looming presence of death. Well. All right, it was a rather big difference, but Till didn’t like being bossed around. Being unable to date, unable to truly express himself, and so on… Besides, there was no guarantee that he would succeed. 

“No, don’t be. I’m just bad at teaching,” Ivan said with a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his head. 

As if. They literally sat next to each other nearly every day; Till often saw him explain complicated subjects to the other struggling classmates and he did well. Till was the problem here. Why was Ivan taking the blame, why was he so fucking different? It was starting to grate on his nerves. 

“Can you tell me which part you’re confused about so far?” he asked patiently. 

Till looked down at the page in front of him. Should he be honest? Would he even be able to pull off lying? His latest attempt went horribly enough for him to remember it every time he wound up awake at 3 A.M. for the next few years. Maybe he should just pretend he got a call and tell Ivan he had an emergency. 

“Don’t worry. It’s fine if we have to start from the beginning, we still have tomorrow.” 

Okay, being looked at with such patient eyes like that…maybe this new Ivan wasn’t that bad, after all. At least he looked cute with his baby face. With a small voice, Till said, “I don’t understand anything.” 

Like he’d been expecting it, Ivan said while turning the page, “All right, from the start then—” 

“No. I mean, I don’t understand anything at all. The materials before this as well.” 

Ivan blinked at him slowly. They had just begun their year, so Till could tell that the guy was currently wondering how the fuck Till managed to get to twelfth grade. Slowly, he asked, “What about…materials from eleventh grade?” 

Till shook his head. 

Ivan didn’t ask about the tenth. Till didn’t know if he should be relieved or offended about that. Instead of getting angry or annoyed, Ivan said, “Well, you’ll probably fail the next test, but I can tutor you starting from today and maybe you’ll pass on the final exams…if you’d like?” 

Till perked up. Another opportunity! Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all. Besides, this cheerful Ivan looked like he had endless patience, so don’t mind him for taking it. “Of course! Uh…every day?” 

Ivan paused in thought. “Well, I guess not. We can’t spend all the time studying science—” 

“I need help with other subjects too!” 

Till’s own smile froze on his face. God, why did he say that? He was so lame. 

Ivan looked confused at first, staring at Till with furrowed eyebrows. A few seconds later, he seemed to have realized something. What? Did Till reveal anything? 

With a smile, Ivan leaned closer and asked, “So you want me to tutor you every day?” There was an interested glint in his eyes that seemed so familiar. 

Till almost gulped. Wasn’t he the one pouncing on the opportunity? Why did he feel like he just got cheated somehow? 

The sky is blue. I found your pencils. You look cute when you’re angry. 

Chapter Text

“Till,” Ivan’s exasperated voice called out to him. “You’re not gonna learn anything if you just stare at me all day.” 

Till blinked owlishly at him. “Why not?” he asked, unapologetic. All Ivan did in Anakt Garden was stare at him and follow him around like a creep, yet he still managed to get a score of 90. Till had only been staring for a few days and Ivan was already scolding him like Till already failed his final exam. The world really had its favorites, huh? 

Speechless, Ivan laughed. “What do you mean ‘why not’? At least pretend to read the book.” Even if Till wanted to, he couldn’t look away from Ivan’s smile right now, entirely enraptured. He didn’t laugh that much back then, his smiles were either that creepy, teasing one reserved for Till, or the charming one reserved for the aliens. As for this laugh, it was genuine. Till hadn’t realized how cute it could be, both Ivan and his snaggletooth. 

Shit. Did he actually have some kind of late-blooming tooth fetish? Along with that—he eyed the earring; a simple round stud. Till’s face felt hot suddenly. Shit. Did he fall on his head too much as a kid or something? 

Ivan furrowed his eyebrows, looking at this person in confusion. “Are you okay? Your face is all red.” 

Till shook his head and looked away. “I’m fine. Can you explain this to me again?” 

One day, when they were done for the day, Ivan jokingly asked him, “How did you pass eleventh grade, really?” He seemed to be in a good mood, probably because Till finally looked like he was showing some improvement. Contrary to what he’d said on the first day of tutoring, Ivan was actually pretty good at teaching. One of the reasons being that he seemed to have infinite patience, which wasn’t really a surprise if you think about it. 

Lately, Till had been noticing that for some reason, Ivan sometimes just…stared at him. Whatever that reason was, Till had no idea. It was kind of embarrassing, really. Till would be solving some questions when suddenly, he felt a burning gaze from the side. Sometimes, Ivan would be in the middle of saying something, and then he would pause and stare at Till, only stopping when Till called his name. And then he would ignore whatever just happened and go back to speaking. It was unsettling because it was familiar, but Till didn’t understand why it was happening. Maybe it was just payback—Till stared at him just as much, after all. 

Today, because they finished pretty early, Ivan offered some snacks which Till was happily munching on. Free food was the best. 

“Bribing,” Till replied, deadpan. 

Ivan perked up. “Wait, really? Who did you bribe?” He had a childish expression of ‘tell me more’. Even after so much time spent together, Till was still taken aback whenever he saw his easy, genuine smile. Was it really so cheap? 

“It’s a family secret,” Till replied mysteriously. 

Ivan chuckled. Knowing that Till wanted to change the subject, he walked to grab the TV remote. “Fine. By the way, Till, what do you like to do?” he asked, while browsing through the channels. Nothing interesting seemed to be on, judging from his expression. Till wondered what Ivan liked to watch. He seemed like the type to like thrillers, horror, that kind of stuff. 

Till tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“Hobbies? Interests?” 

Right. This was how people usually made friends; bonding over shared interests and doing things together for fun. The question was so broad that nothing came to mind at first. When was the last time he enjoyed doing something? What had he done back then? 

“I…read manga sometimes.” 

Well, that was a missed opportunity. Reading manga wasn’t exactly something you could do together. Ivan, not entirely focused on the conversation, asked, “Really? What do you read?” 

Till shrugged. “Chainsaw Man.” 

“Oh, I haven’t heard of that one before.” 

Guess he wasn’t into manga, after all. That was a popular title nowadays. Till didn’t give up—they might still be able to talk about manga. “I can let you borrow it if you want,” he offered. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m not that into manga anyways.” 

Whoa. Till’s smile froze on his face before turning wry. Rejected.  

Thinking about it, in a setting like this, Ivan was probably someone who had ambitions, right? Most people their age didn’t know exactly what they’d do, but at least one or two professions would come to mind. While Ivan…he took his studies seriously, joined organizations and clubs, and even made lots of friends—there must be something he was striving towards. Probably not a singer, Till thought, and then he got even more curious. 

The next day, the first thing when he arrived at his classroom was to approach Ivan, who was scrolling through his phone. Till put his own bag on his table, then walked in front of him. “Hey, Ivan.” 

“Huh? Oh, good morning, Till.” A bit taken aback, but he didn’t forget to flash a smile at Till. He turned off his phone and looked up at him. “What’s up?” 

“What do you want to be when you’re older?” Till asked in the manner of interrogating someone. 

“Hm… Dunno.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows. “So what are you studying so hard for?” 

“To get a job,” Ivan replied as if Till was stupid. 

“What job?” 

“Anything that pays well is fine.” He shrugged. 

Till wanted to sigh. Fine. Maybe Ivan was a normal teenager after all. “And what do you like to do?” 

“Huh?” 

“Your hobbies,” he insisted. 

Ivan looked at Till like he’d grown a second head. “Uh, I like playing the piano.” 

Oh. It was music-related. Like a deflated balloon, Till said, “All right,” and then sat down on his chair. He felt Ivan’s questioning gaze on his side. Too bad for him that not every question went answered, Till thought, annoyed. 

Then again, at the end of the day, maybe Ivan had never been ambitious. Maybe Till had it all wrong—even though his mind had been obsessed with Ivan and the questions he’d left behind, wasn’t it inevitable for someone to misunderstand another person? Besides, he’d never truly understood him in the first place, and he’d also assumed a lot of things while Ivan was still alive, so Till would undoubtedly misunderstand things after he’d died too. 

Maybe Ivan was just the type of person who was good at anything he set his mind on, an annoying natural at everything. Just because he had been good at singing didn’t mean he was ambitious—he needed to be good to stay alive, so it was technically an ambition forced into him. 

Ambitious… Now that he thought about it, Luka fit that description more. Cunning and hungry for life, always having a goal despite the world he was born into. As for Ivan…he couldn’t really be called ambitious. If he were, he wouldn’t so readily throw his life away for someone like Till, right? 

You know how they said people who were close would start mimicking each other’s behaviors? Best friends, partners, roommates… Looking at them now, Till just realized how similar they were. Even their physical features looked similar, like they might be long lost siblings. 

Maybe he’d hung out with Ivan too often now, because he was also starting to develop Ivan-esque behaviors. One of them being: staring at people unabashedly, like a creep. But he really couldn’t help it, those two looked so alike and he never realized. 

When she finally left, Till’s eyes followed her out the door like a hawk. The moment the door closed, he asked, poking Ivan, “Do you like her?” 

“Who?” 

“Sua.” 

Till wanted to tell him that she was taken. Wanted to tell him that Ivan had no chance. For his own good, of course. He didn’t want Ivan to endlessly pine for someone. They’d both been there, done that; Till wanted to at least steer him away from doing it a second time. That was all. 

Ivan raised a brow at him, confused. “Not romantically, if you’re asking about that.” 

Then, he added as an afterthought, “I don’t like girls.” 

Till blinked, speechless. In the end, all he could say was, “Oh.” 

The first question that came to mind was, did that mean he was gay? How did he find out? Wouldn’t someone find out they liked a guy by liking a guy? If that was the case for Ivan…was there someone he liked? 

But then the bell rang, and Ivan was already opening his book, and Till’s voice was stuck on his throat. He felt parched. 

I didn’t know how to smile. I wish you hated me. I’m jealous of Mizi. 

Chapter Text

Strange. 

For once in his life, Till finally had motivation to do something. Toward something. 

All this time, all these years, he’d been living in the wake of his friends’ deaths. Despite the fact that he could now see all of them, alive and breathing, smiling and laughing and so very tangible in front of him, he could never get past their deaths. It was impossible. They didn’t remember him, they didn’t remember the lives they’d lived, so how could he even consider them his friends? 

They might have similarities. Maybe despite Sua’s longer hair, she still smiled the same. Maybe despite Luka’s lack of intensity, he was just as much an asshole. But despite all that, he still couldn’t look at them and not think that they were mere impostors; people who resembled his friends but weren’t actually them. Their existence didn’t bring him peace, much less joy. What would you do if a dead loved one of yours got back to life completely different? No—what would you do if someone used the dead bodies of your loved ones? If anything, it was one sick joke; the universe trampling over his lack of closure. 

Of course, he couldn’t fault them for any of it. Maybe it was his fault in the first place for remembering. Maybe he was the error in the system for not dying in peace and bringing the past to haunt him in this new universe. Maybe this was his punishment for winning—for having allowed his friends to die and surviving despite it. 

Not only did he lack friends, ever since he was reborn, he couldn’t find it in himself to bond with his family. They were, perhaps, something as close to unconditional love as he could get here—the only real one being the previous Ivan, of course. Even so, it left a bad taste in his mouth. A family was something he’d longed for back then, but now? They didn’t understand him, they could never hope to, so what use was there to get close to them? It wasn’t like he was mean to them. He just…didn’t talk to them much. At all. He was the definition of a shut-in. From how they acted so careful around him, they probably thought he was depressed. Thankfully, they didn’t bring him to a doctor and simply ignored it. It was shameful to have a child who was ‘ill’. 

Till’s days were spent with a lot of sleeping. Sometimes, he watched and read stuff that interested him, but he didn’t create. He didn’t study. He didn’t do anything meaningful; he didn’t think he was capable of it anymore. He’d admitted a long time ago that he didn’t really have anything to live for here. Maybe it was because he’d always lived to rebel, but there was nothing to fight against. Maybe it was because he’d lived for Mizi, but now he couldn’t bear to look at her anymore. There was no need to look for a makeshift sun when the real one was right above him, right? 

Younger people might have ambitious goals, but Till couldn’t really be considered one. His soul was a little too battered and broken to be considered young. So it was fine, he would live like this: get a job that didn’t pay enough, live in debt, and then die early. That was the plan. 

Until…Ivan.  

Till didn’t know why Ivan appeared so late in this life when they’d always been together during their childhood. This version of him was so different that it made Till feel complicated, and beneath all that complexity, arose an irrational desire to get closer. He knew that he wouldn’t get any answers despite it. It was selfish of him, really, to hope that there would be someone else who remembered when they were all better off not knowing. It was even more selfish of him to hope that Ivan would be that person. 

Out of anybody in the world, Till didn’t have the right to even hope for that. After all, despite the measly amount of possessions they were allowed, Ivan had given him everything that he had. Till was the one who hadn’t noticed until it was too late—how could he dare to ask for more? 

It was just… Mizi might’ve been the one Till was striving towards, but Ivan was the one who had always been there. After seeing so many familiar faces and realizing over and over again with increasing disappointment that none of them remembered, was it so wrong of him to hope that Ivan would? He was Till’s last hope—wrong as it had been—and now it was squandered. 

So now, in place of that hope was an impulse to get closer, try to find answers that would never be there. Till wondered if this was how Ivan’d felt back then, completely obsessed and unable to look away. There was a little problem, though. 

Till had started getting to know Ivan without any other intentions. Now, he wouldn’t say he liked this Ivan. Like the others, this Ivan was just someone wearing his old friend’s face. Instead, being in that guy’s vicinity, Till often ended up thinking and wondering about the what-ifs. If they’d gotten into a relationship, what would that be like? Would Ivan be a gentle lover, or would he be overbearing like he’d always been? How would Ivan’s lips feel on his when they both were willing; soft and gentle, or rough like he wanted to devour Till? Would they both be able to rest in peace, with all regrets washed away? 

His thinking became obsessive, like he was a second away from jumping into that dreamworld he’d created in his own head. He was falling deeper into a pit he’d dug by himself, and now he didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t right to Ivan, at least the one alive right now, but Till was too selfish to actually let go. He’d rather see something that wasn’t there, than to not see at all. 

Today was smoldering hot. The living room didn’t have any air conditioning, so Ivan said they should study in his room. It wasn’t as messy as Till thought it’d be. Definitely bigger than he’d imagined, though. There were childhood pictures on the wall. Till’s house didn’t have a lot of those, and he briefly lamented how they never had those back in Anakt Garden either. Little Ivan looked so cute, though. You never realized how cute you—or other children—were when you were a kid, he supposed. 

As usual, Ivan was changing in the bathroom. Curious, Till approached the desk. It was nearly empty save for some stationery and a lone book. Looking at it, he realized that it was actually a few sketchbooks sewed into one. 

Huh, so this Ivan drew. He was momentarily taken aback to Anakt Garden, when he’d lean on a tree and draw on his book—one of the few gifts he’d gotten from his owner—with a looming presence above his shoulder. 

Well, Till had never been a good person anyway. He opened the book, straight to one of the dog-eared pages in the middle, and saw…

…his own face. 

Two of them, one on each page. 

It was horrifying. No, really, what the fuck? But like a moth to a flame, Till continued turning the page. On every single one was him, some mere sketches and some so detailed. They were drawn in different styles: chibi, anime, surrealism, realism. A bunch of things he couldn’t name, but that last one was the scariest. Had Ivan somehow gotten hold of his photo? How would he be able to draw all these details from memory? 

Without realizing it, his hand stroked his own face on the paper, horrified and a little bit…hot? 

Wait, memory?  

Then, he realized that the drawings were dated. 

These many pages, there was no way they were less than fifty. With sweaty, trembling hands, he opened the very first page of this sewn-together book and— 

The first drawing was from two years ago. 

What the fuck?  

It was at that time that the bathroom door clicked open, revealing Ivan whose smile immediately dropped when he saw what Till was looking at. 

I’ve broken the rules before. I’ve never been punished before. I’ve never asked for a favor with my body. 

Chapter Text

Till stared at him, open-mouthed and utterly speechless. “What the fuck?"  

Oh. He hadn’t meant to go all out. 

Ivan looked panicked, frozen in front of the bathroom door. His eyes darted around the room like he would find an answer in a hidden corner and he rubbed the back of his head. If this were any other situation, Till would’ve found him cute. 

Actually, Till wasn’t afraid…much. This was Ivan; he’d always been a creep, but he had never hurt Till and Till didn’t think that would change despite their reincarnation. What he would like to know now was, how did Ivan know him in the first place? Even if Ivan were a stalker, Till couldn’t tell how Ivan found him at all. Till didn’t have any social media presence. At most, his classmates might post pictures with him in the background. Perhaps…had they met before Till had been ‘reborn’? 

If— 

If, somehow, Ivan was also reborn… 

Was that possible? Could Till really be that lucky? No, there was no reason to raise his expectations; there was a bigger chance he’d get disappointed. Either way, it would be pretty interesting to see what kind of excuse Ivan would come up with, so Till waited. 

Unfortunately, even after all this time, Ivan wasn’t someone he could predict. Instead of explaining anything, he shamelessly asked, “Can you forget about ever seeing that?” He even looked sheepish, smiling while rubbing the back of his head and all. As if he hadn’t been creepily and accurately drawing Till years before they’d even met. 

“No?!” Till said, not as a question but in a hysteric ‘are you insane’ way. 

“Why were you looking through my things?” 

Till internally rolled his eyes. “You are not changing the subject, Ivan.” 

Now Ivan looked like he wanted to run away. From his own home. Till walked towards Ivan with the book in his hand, and then he slapped it onto his chest. “What’s this about? And tell me the truth.” Till really wanted to see Ivan squirm a bit. And maybe smack the guy in the face. 

Ivan sighed. “Actually, I’m a seer. I’ve been seeing your face in my dreams,” he said seriously. 

What the heck? Who in the world would believe that? Did Ivan think he had a free pass to say stupid lies just because he had a pretty face? 

“And what part of that makes you draw me over and over nearly every day?” 

“At first, your face wasn’t very clear, so I’ve been trying to make it out by drawing it.” He looked like he was completely ready to die on this hill. “In my dreams, the earth has been taken over by aliens.” Ivan looked straight at Till when he asked the question, as if he was studying his face for a reaction. 

Till nearly flinched when he heard the word. He despised sci-fi so much because it was a triggering topic; it made him feel fragile, and being exposed to it reminded him of his weakness, so he’d been avoiding it like the plague his whole life. Now, it definitely wasn’t a coincidence, right? Ivan remembered. In some way, shape or form, he must remember. 

At this revelation, Till suddenly felt weak. His hands fell limply by his sides, and the poor sketchbook slid down Ivan’s body before tumbling to the floor. Other than that, there was no sound. They stared at each other wordlessly. 

Till didn’t know what kind of expression was on his face right now, but Ivan looked surprised. Despite how much he laughed with his friends, despite how cheaply given his smiles were, he’d never been so genuinely expressive. The difference was miniscule: his eyes widened a bit—just a tiny bit, his eyebrows didn’t even rise—and his mouth fell open a little, and he froze, but his eyes— They made Till realize that all this time, Ivan had never been honest. Everything was a lie. 

Ivan remembered. Ivan hadn’t changed. Ivan— 

Till gulped audibly, not sure what to say at this point. All the sleepless nights spent imagining such a scenario and none of them had gone like this. Dreams where all of them got to live happily ever after, no longer burdened by regrets, had long turned into nightmares where he died alone. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even want to talk anymore. 

“Why are you so obsessed with a stranger in your dreams?” 

Ivan stood up ramrod straight, his defenses starting to build up again. The mask was so obvious now, when it was being used in front of Till. “I’m looking to find a way to stop your impending death, of course,” he replied in a sage-like tone. 

Hearing that answer, although Till knew he was lying, he couldn’t help but get angry. No, didn’t he have the right to get angry in the first place? Hadn’t he gotten swindled the last month or so, what with this guy pretending and making Till have to clamor for his attention? Even though Till got free tutoring and food, that wasn’t enough, damn it! If Ivan had acted the same way as he always did in the Garden, they wouldn’t be in this position. 

And now…despite remembering everything, Ivan was still spouting bullshit about life and death? Did he ever feel guilty for leaving Till behind, alone to face Luka without a single answer? 

If what he was saying was true, if one of them were destined to die, would Ivan still do the same thing? 

… 

Ivan was really different from back then. All these changes made even Till, who’d lived with Ivan almost their whole lives, believe that he didn’t remember anything. But these changes might be intentional; maybe Ivan didn’t want to have anything to do with Till anymore after his rebirth. It wouldn’t be wrong of him, but Till— 

Till couldn’t let that be. If Ivan hadn’t remembered anything, Till would consider it his own fleeting interest. Now that he knew Ivan remembered, Till couldn’t care less if Ivan didn’t want anything to do with him—he was going to pursue him until the ends of earth. And besides, wasn’t Ivan the one who drew him over and over again? Wasn’t Ivan the one who specifically moved into his school? 

Till gritted his teeth. He hadn’t realized that his emotions could be so…raw. With Mizi, he would never imagine forcing himself on her, but Ivan… With Ivan, he didn’t care anymore. Till couldn’t be the only one who remembered. He didn’t want to be alone. And Ivan… Ivan was… 

Annoyed, enraged even, Till kneed him in the stomach. Surprised, Ivan fell to the floor with an oomph!, but not without pulling Till down with him. 

“That’s not funny, asshole! You liar!” he shouted. Straddling him, Till angrily punched him in the chest over and over, over and over, and Ivan just let him, lying limply on the floor. Knowing this, Till didn’t stop; he wasn’t satisfied yet, but then his vision started to get blurry for some reason. Ivan’s hands reached out to him, which he failed to avoid, and then Till was pulled down into an embrace. 

Oh. Till was crying. Sobbing. It was ugly. Ivan’s hug was so tight that Till couldn’t even wipe his eyes, so he let his tears and snot fall onto his chest. His own hands fell limply onto the floor while Ivan gently stroked his back over and over. 

He was so relieved. He was so relieved. So he wasn’t alone in this world after all. He wasn’t the only one who remembered, wasn’t the only one who went through such experiences. So there was someone who still cared about him and understood him and— 

Loved him. 

For the first time, Till finally felt like he was freed from that cage. He’d been alive here for nearly ten years, but all he’d felt was loneliness. All he’d ever known was the looming fate of death. He never realized relief could feel so freeing, he didn’t know one could cry from joy. 

A long while later, after his sobbing and hiccuping had subsided, Ivan asked jokingly, “Why are you lying on me?” His voice sounded a little hoarse as well, but Till couldn’t tell if he was crying. He was still holding Till against his chest, his hand stroking his back as if he didn’t want to ever let go. For once, Till felt the same way. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was warm, and it was the only home he got now. 

“Because you’re an asshole,” Till replied, his voice muffled. 

“No, seriously.” 

Till sighed. “I remember too.” 

Instantly, Ivan sat up, holding Till on his lap. “Wait, really?” He looked excited, as if this was news to him. Till furrowed his eyebrows. Why else did he think Till started crying all of a sudden? It turned out Ivan was really dumb; he was probably just good at following orders, hence his high scores everywhere. What an idiot. 

Instead of replying, Till angrily asked, “Why did you not tell me?” 

Seeing his aggrieved expression, Ivan laughed. “I didn’t know that you knew. If I told you and you didn’t remember anything, you’d think I was crazy.” 

So what? Isn’t he crazy anyway? With a scoff, Till accused, “You changed so much.” 

“Why? Do you prefer that quiet and broody Ivan?” Ivan laughed again, but this time, it sounded self deprecating. Till didn’t like it. 

Till shrugged, playing with Ivan’s earring and pointing his vision there. Being this close, face-to-face, he found it hard to look Ivan straight in the eyes. “I’m fine with you either way,” he said earnestly. 

When he didn’t get an answer, he looked up at Ivan’s expression and found that it was filled with disbelief. “What?” 

Ivan blinked, then tilted his head. “Really? I mean, you didn’t like me at all back then, though?” 

“Says who, you idiot?” Till pulled his ear roughly to the side. 

Ivan yelled in surprise, rubbing his ear when Till finally let go. “What do you mean?” He looked so confused that were they talking about a less serious subject, Till would’ve loved to kiss him silly on the face. 

Till pointed at his chest, trying to bring the point home. Knowing how dumb this guy was, you could never be sure. “You never told me about your feelings, took it all upon yourself without asking, how was I supposed to know?” 

Ivan’s eyes cleared and he chuckled. “Sorry, I just—” 

“Shut. Up. You listen to me now,” He cut off. “For some fucking reason, you decided that you shouldn’t confess to me until you were about to die, if that could even be called a confession”—Till rolled his eyes—”and then you sacrificed your life for me even though I didn’t ask you to. You did all these for a selfish fucking reason that I can’t understand. You didn’t explain anything to me at all. All I had were questions. I even went through your belongings and found your stupid note—” 

“Journal,” he corrected. 

“How the fuck could that thing be considered a journal? It was only five lines,” Till said, annoyed. Then again, it made sense. The aliens were always sensitive when it came to their belongings. It was better this way. Till couldn’t imagine pouring his heart out on a book that would later be read by those shitty aliens. “Anyway, I found that stupid note and it only gave me more headache. What the fuck were you thinking? Why did you do it?” He wanted to say more, but his voice got suspiciously high at the end so he stopped talking. He was done crying for the day. 

In lieu of an explanation, Ivan seriously said, “I’d do it all over again.” 

Till gritted his teeth. That didn’t answer anything. “You’re really asking for a beating.” 

“If I had gotten close to you, and you reciprocated my feelings, you’d feel sad when I die.” 

Instead of explaining the reason behind his sacrifice, he explained the reason why he didn’t tell Till anything. Which—okay, that was part of his question, but why did he act like the sacrificing part was certain to happen? Why… Till couldn’t understand. 

“I’d rather feel sad than to not have known you at all—I was sad anyway! Did you think I wouldn’t feel anything after your death?” 

Ivan shrugged, looking like he didn’t care about the answer. Till felt such a burst of anger that he looked away. What was up with this guy? How could he say he loved Till without caring for his feelings? No. He did care, but he misunderstood so much that he didn’t realize Till would feel devastated after his death. 

Ugh. Why did he even like this guy? 

Suddenly, a line from that stupid journal came to mind. “Your death haunted me for more than a lifetime, even Mizi’s death didn’t do that.” 

“What do you mean ‘haunt’?” 

“I didn’t idolize her anymore. Since you died, all I’ve been thinking about is you, you, you. And then you came here full of smiles for everybody, and you didn’t even look at me, and I’m just—I hate you so much.” 

Till felt like punching him again, but Ivan, that crazy idiot, grinned impossibly wide. 

I’m jealous of Mizi. I’m jealous of Sua. I’m better than her. 

Chapter Text

Being approached by someone to thank him for being openly gay was not in Till’s itinerary, but hey, life was full of surprises. 

It happened as they were packing their bags. Ivan was talking about a movie that was coming to the cinemas soon, and Till was listening to him ramble. 

Since that day, they’d been ‘together’. Neither of them explicitly asked each other out, it was just an unspoken promise. They never hid it while they were at school either. One day, one of Ivan’s friends jokingly asked if they were together, and Ivan answered him seriously. Till gave him a little punch for not asking his opinion before outing them both, but then again, it was probably for the best. Till didn’t want to hide either. Unfortunately, Ivan was a rather touchy person. After that day, he’d pulled Till into hugs at school, and even shamelessly stolen some kisses. Till didn’t even want to know if anyone had seen them. 

Right now, Till and Ivan looked at each other. Both of them were equally confused because neither of them were gay. Till was bi, and Ivan was ‘Tillsexual’, or so he said. Till just thought he was an idiot. 

“I mean, it’s fine I guess? It’s not like we did it for you,” Till replied, which sounded quite rude even though he didn’t mean it to. This was just too random, and he was an awkward person, okay? 

Perhaps realizing that, the girl rubbed the back of her head with a shy smile. “I know, I know. It’s just, I’ve been closeted for a long time. My girlfriend wants to come out, but I’ve always been too scared. Seeing you guys gives me confidence that we can do it.” 

Right. Seeing that the rest of the school didn’t care much about Till and Ivan, she probably felt that it was safe to come out now. Till felt a bit like a guinea pig, but he was glad to help. Even though he wasn’t gay. 

Ivan circled his arm around Till’s shoulder and responded to the girl, “No problem. We wish you guys well.” 

“Thanks!” 

Mizi waved as she walked out the classroom. They wordlessly watched her leave. 

It felt a little like letting go. Moving on. 

“Let’s go to your house today,” Ivan said as they walked past the gates. He’d insisted that Till still needed his tutoring, to which Till begrudgingly agreed. Even though he still hated school, hated everything a little, there was Ivan now. He could try a little, even if trying came in the form of learning useless nothings that probably wouldn’t help in life. 

“All right, but my room is super small. Don’t be surprised when you see it, rich guy.” 

“Who said I wanted to go into your room anyway?” 

Till smacked him, but was only met with laughter. 

In the end, they went into his room anyway. The living room was impossible to study in, and you could hear the sound of traffic from there which ruined Till’s already struggling focus. In his room, Ivan immediately started rummaging around like it was his own home. Till was already used to it at this point; he just lay down on his bed in surrender. 

“So you have a guitar,” Ivan mentioned. Till could tell he was trying his best to not sound surprised. He did well, but when you knew where to look, it became obvious. Endearingly so. 

“Yeah.” 

“Haven’t used it yet?” 

“Don’t ask things you already know.” Till rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask—why are you so…unmotivated?” he asked after a pause, probably trying to find the word. Another thing Till noticed was that Ivan tried not to mention Mizi around him. It was almost cute. Was it because he was jealous of her? His note had mentioned that… 

Instead of replying, he curiously asked, “Say, if you thought I didn’t remember, why would you try dating me again?” 

They didn’t mention how Till had tried doing the same thing. 

“This is the first time I’m trying to date you, Till. But I don’t think there’s a universe in which I don’t live for you,” Ivan replied seriously. 

Right, ‘dating’ was probably too strong a word for someone who used to ignore Till in class all day. They would talk about that first sentence later. 

“I’m like this though.” 

By ‘this’ he meant unmotivated, stupid. He didn’t want to say it out loud no matter how true it was. Till didn’t have a bright future, and he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care, but Ivan didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled, easily saying, “It’s fine. You don’t have to do anything, you can just freeload off me.” 

Really, this taste of unconditional love was dangerous. In their past life, Till hadn’t noticed it until it was too late, but now that he did, it was too dangerous. It was something he could get addicted to, something he could accidentally take for granted…like last time. He didn’t want to do that again. 

“I might take you up on that offer,” he replied, burying his head in his pillow. It wasn’t a serious answer—there was no way he’d allow himself to just freeload off someone else, but he didn’t want to think about it right now, even though he was the one who’d brought up the subject. 

“I’ll work hard.” Ivan’s grin was audible. 

Apropos of nothing,  Till asked, “Don’t you want to move on?” 

He sometimes just had these…insecure moments that he couldn’t help having because he was broken. He was selfish; he wanted to be with Ivan, but he didn’t want Ivan to suffer with him. 

Ivan knew him too well, it seemed. He didn’t answer the initial question, but went straight to the point: “If you wanted me to move on, why did you approach me? It’s okay to want things, Till.” 

Till sighed. “Well, what do you want?” 

Ivan looked straight into his eyes, unwavering. “You.” 

Till sighed. “You really shouldn’t be with me, you know?” 

“Oh, why’s that?” Ivan asked with a ‘tell me, ‘o wise one’ tone. He was currently cooking dinner, but as always, he had time to amuse Till. 

“You’re doing well, you can move on. I’m stuck in the past.” Maybe, if Till could still be called stubborn, this was the one thing he was stubborn about. He couldn’t forget, didn’t want to. It was the equivalent of a sick person not wanting to get healthy. He would rather suffer, even die, than forget. 

There was no response for a bit, maybe out of surprise from the sudden change of subject. They’d just gotten to Ivan’s home from the mall, and suddenly here Till was, talking about a somber topic. He felt a little bit guilty, but his point stood. 

Ivan turned off the stove and approached him on the couch. He knelt in front of him, holding his face with both hands so Till couldn’t look away. “Till, love, do you think I can move on? Maybe from the past, but never from you. I remember everything clearly, I’ll never forget.” 

Till didn’t struggle from his grip. “I feel like I’m asking too much from you.” Because really, what hadn’t Ivan done for him? 

Ivan paused, obviously thinking of what to say. This was a recurring conversation, and it would continue to occur in the future. Every time, Ivan would come up with something to persuade him. It would work for a while before Till fell into the same pit all over again. 

“Till, you—I don’t know if this will make you feel better, but you asking me for anything is what gives me life. Okay? Without you, I’d be worse than dead. So don’t feel bad. You can use me as you like.” 

Maybe Till was starting to understand why Ivan had sacrificed himself. Back then, perhaps Till would’ve done the same for Mizi, and now he would do the same for Ivan. When it got to the point that you were only alive when that person was around, wasn’t it better to die rather than watch them go? 

Till closed his eyes. “You’re really fucked up.” 

“Mm. Yeah.” Ivan pulled him down to an awkward hug. Till circled his arms around him, holding him tight like a lifeline. 

“And you fucked me up in the process.” 

“Yeah,” he murmured to Till’s shoulder. 

“So you should take responsibility.” 

“Anything.”

Chapter Text

2T1L (to till) 

I hate you. I want you. I like you. 

did you have a tsundere phase? 

The sky is blue. I found your pencils. You look cute when you’re angry. 

you stole them, you asshole 

I didn’t know how to smile. I wish you hated me. I’m jealous of Mizi. 

masochist 

I’ve broken the rules before. I’ve never been punished before. I’ve never asked for a favor with my body. 

what rule did you break? staying awake after curfew? lol 

I’m jealous of Mizi. I’m jealous of Sua. I’m better than her. 

better than mizi? you wish 

It would be wrong to say that Ivan remembered everything. Actually, he’d started his life peacefully oblivious until…when was it? Maybe six years old, a bit after he got into elementary school. It couldn’t even be called ‘remembering’, in his opinion. It was reliving.  

He didn’t know why, how, or even what kickstarted it in the first place, but every time he went to sleep, he would relive a life in a post-apocalyptic world. ‘Remembering’ would mean he’d see those memories as not entirely his, from a third person point of view; like an amnesiac being told the story of their life. They wouldn’t actually remember, they would just…know, without actually having experienced those things. Ivan lived through all that. He didn’t know if it meant that he was living two lives at the same time, or if he just never changed and was simply doing the same things and making the same choices a second time. Either way, the result was the same. 

The first thing he did afterward was try to find out where Till lived now. Then, he had to do a lot of things in the background to push his parents to allow him to move to Till’s school. When he finally saw Till, he couldn’t imagine his own eyes. He wasn’t surprised to see Till not doing well at school; wasn’t he like that too before? Hating the system and so on. That part of Till hadn’t changed, so Ivan had hoped that Till might remember until he found out that Mizi went to the same school, and then…well, there was no way, right? 

Till didn’t pay attention to Mizi. He must not remember anything. Otherwise, how could he ignore her existence so persistently? 

And even stranger, he even indirectly asked Ivan to tutor him every day? 

When they first met, Ivan had intentionally started out mildly. He now knew more about human relationships, and didn’t want to scare Till the second time. The first time wasn’t a problem; he didn’t want Till to care about him, but this time, they had a chance for a happy ending. He couldn’t fuck it up. He greeted Till whenever they met, he hinted that he liked guys, and he tried to be more like Mizi. He even got himself some glasses in case Till was into that kind of thing, but he forgot to bring it on the first day and it would be too awkward after that since everyone could tell his sight was perfectly fine. 

Till was so different now that at some point, Ivan wondered if it was right of him to like him. It was a different Till, after all. Wouldn’t this…tarnish the Till he’d once loved? 

But in the end he couldn’t help it anyway. He was like a sunflower, and Till was the sun he’d always look up to. He didn’t have a choice in it at all. It was almost unfair. 

When he found out that Till remembered everything, he was overjoyed. Then Till started interrogating him about why he sacrificed himself and Ivan— 

—actually didn’t know. 

Ivan relived things as he lived. At that age, he hadn’t even started competing in Alien Stage; he knew nothing about how he sacrificed himself, or what exactly happened. He’d always believed that were they to complete, that Till would undoubtedly win. In his head, it would be a fair fight. There was no need for blatant sacrifice, Till would always win over him. The aliens loved rebels like Till, he was much more interesting than Ivan who didn’t have a personality that could arouse the masses. It was obvious to anyone that Till would win. 

If Ivan had sacrificed himself, that must mean that Till was somehow losing. And the only reason why Till would lose against him was if he gave up. And the reason why he would give up was if Mizi died, but Ivan didn’t dare to give a direct answer during Till’s questioning. He didn’t want to say anything wrong. He’d rather Till not know the truth. 

Ivan had yet to experience the death of their friends. Till…was worse off than he was. As the winner of Alien Stage, he was the last one standing. He must’ve seen everyone die, and even Ivan’s own death had brought him pain as well. At least thinking that Ivan remembered everything would bring him a little reprieve. 

Besides, Ivan would remember later. It was just…a temporary white lie. 

For Till, he would do anything. 

2T1L (two truths, one lie) 

I hate you. I want you. I like you. 

The sky is blue. I found your pencils. You look cute when you’re angry. 

I didn’t know how to smile. I wish you hated me. I’m jealous of Mizi.  

I’ve broken the rules before. I’ve never been punished before. I’ve never asked for a favor with my body.  

I’m jealous of Mizi. I’m jealous of Sua. I’m better than her.