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Published:
2025-06-16
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2025-06-25
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4/?
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carefully, lovingly, purposefully raised

Anonymous

Summary:

Han Yoohyun had no real purpose, no direction, no sense of self outside of his brother, Han Yoojin.

And that wasn’t a tragic flaw.

It was by design.

He raised Yoohyun to be this way. Carefully. Lovingly. Purposefully.

So when Yoohyun tried to push him away, cutting all ties?

Yoojin wasn’t hurt.

There was no heartbreak.

Only a quiet curiosity, a simple question:
How long will you last without me?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

 

 

The day Yoohyun packed his bags and announced he was moving out, Yoojin said nothing.

 

He didn’t ask him to stay. Didn’t try to change his mind.

 

What was the point of arguing against such falsehood, spoken so confidently by someone who should know better?

 

“You’re a hindrance to me.”

 

Sure. If you considered someone’s entire reason for living a hindrance. Because that’s what Yoojin was to him.

 

“I don’t need you, hyung.”

 

As if.

 

Without him, Yoohyun was little more than a walking corpse. A hollow shell drifting through life, waiting only for death.

 

“Don’t bother reaching out to me from now on. I won’t answer.”

 

That was fine.

 

Yoojin didn’t need to reach out.

 

Yoohyun would come crawling back on his own.

 

And just like that, an idea bloomed in his mind.

 

Since his little brother wanted to run off and play hero in dungeons, then Yoojin would follow.

 

It didn’t matter that he hadn’t awakened yet. And even if he did, even if his rank turned out to be the lowest, the most useless classification the system could assign, he’d still go.

 

He’d walk into those dungeons without hesitation.

 

Even if he was unarmed, unranked, unprepared. Even if he came out broken.

 

Even if he left pieces of himself behind.

 

His body shattered, his limbs crushed, his life hanging by a thread.

 

It didn’t matter.

 

Because he’d have Yoohyun back.

 

Because Yoohyun would come running to him.

 

And in that moment, Yoojin would prove it.

 

That no matter how far Yoohyun tried to run, how convincingly he lied to himself, he could never truly stay away.

 

After all, how could anyone ever hope to escape the one who molded their every thought, carved out their every instinct, and built them from the ground up to belong to no one else?

 

 

 

 

It had taken years

 

Years of waiting, breaking, bleeding.

 

But Yoohyun had come back. For him.

 

In desperation. In fear. In love. To save him.

 

And now, Yoohyun was dying.

 

The dungeon was collapsing around them, the air thick with smoke and blood, but none of it mattered.

 

Not when Yoohyun was smiling.

 

“I made it back,” he breathed, chest rising in shallow, trembling gasps. “Hyung... I made it back to you.”

 

Yoojin knelt beside him, calm. Gentle.

 

His hands were steady as he brushed the hair from Yoohyun’s face.

 

“You were trying to prove it,” Yoohyun murmured, eyes soft. “Throwing yourself into danger. Bleeding where I could see it.”

 

He let out a quiet laugh. “You never said anything, but I knew.”

 

His eyes searched Yoojin’s. “It worked.”

 

Yoojin didn’t speak right away. He just looked at his brother, broken and dying and finally, finally right where he belonged.

 

“It’s a miracle you lasted this long,” Yoojin finally replied. His voice quiet, thoughtful. Almost affectionate.

 

Yoohyun’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak, he didn’t have to. Yoojin continued. 

 

“You weren’t built to be alone,” he said. “Not by me. To live life without me… I’m surprised how long you lasted, Yoohyun.”

 

“You always said I was meant to live for you,” Yoohyun whispered. He smiled faintly, almost shy.

 

“I’m glad you reminded me.”

 

And then, a question. Softer, almost childlike.

 

“Did I do well, hyung? Coming back like this… dying like this?” 

 

His voice wavered at the end, fragile with hope. Like a child asking a parent if he’d been good, if he'd finally made them proud.

 

Yoojin nodded, brushing a blood-streaked thumb across his cheek.

 

“You did,” he replied, a proud smile forming on his face for the first time in years.

 

Yoohyun’s eyes slipped shut, a smile etching itself on his lips.

 

“I’m happy.”

 

Then he went still, his hand falling from Yoojin’s grasp.

 

Yoojin didn’t cry. He didn’t scream.

 

He only looked at his brother’s body with quiet, reverent pride.

 

Yoohyun had returned.

 

And in the end, he had chosen him.

 

What more could a brother ask for?

 

Yoojin leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

 

“You were perfect, Yoohyun,” he whispered softly to the corpse.

 

Then he rose, steady and calm, as the dungeon crumbled around him.

 

Because this wasn’t the end.

 

Not when everything had finally aligned.
Not when Yoohyun had remembered his place.

 

Not when he had proven, without doubt, where he belonged.

 

Yoojin would go back.

 

“You won’t escape me again,” Yoojin murmured, almost fondly. “Next time, I’ll keep you where you belong.”

 

 

Chapter 2

Chapter Text

 

 

Yoojin awoke to a clean, modern office room.

 

The air was still. Clean. No hint of smoke, no blood thick on the floor, no weight of death pressing in from all sides.

 

His eyes fell on the calendar.

 

That date.

 

Of course.

 

How merciful, that time chose to rewind here. Not to some random day of mundanity. But to the moment it all began.

 

The day Yoohyun came to him in a rage. The day he accused Yoojin of selfishness for daring to reach out to the Awakening brokers. The day he began to pull away in earnest.

 

Yoojin sat still for a long moment. Letting the silence settle. The certainty.

 

He wasn’t dreaming. That much he knew.

 

And he wasn’t surprised.

 

Why would he be, when he’d already clawed his way through the worst fate could offer? When he’d already watched Yoohyun smile through a dying breath, finally remembering where he belonged?

 

He wouldn’t wait around this time- for love to find its way home, for Yoohyun to remember who he belonged to.

 

Love was too soft. Too uncertain.


It faltered, it wavered.


It could be twisted, rejected, mistaken for guilt.

 

So this time, Yoojin wouldn’t just love.

 

He’d make himself necessary.

 

As necessary as the air one breathes.

 

And most importantly...

 

Impossible to escape from.

 

The door slammed open.

 

Yoohyun stood in the doorway, furious, breath ragged from running. His eyes burned.

 

“You went to an Awakening broker?” he snapped, voice already rising. “What were you thinking?! Are you insane?! Do you know what those people do to unawakened—?!”

 

Yoojin didn’t respond.

 

He only looked at him.

 

Yoohyun’s anger hit like a storm, but Yoojin didn’t flinch.

 

He simply watched. Calm. Detached. As if Yoohyun’s fury was no more threatening than a child’s tantrum.

 

Inside, though, he was drinking in the sight.

 

Alive.

 

Whole.

 

Still loud. Still careless. Still beautiful.

 

And still so easy to break.

 

“Are you even listening to me?!” Yoohyun snapped, stepping forward now, hands clenched. “You could’ve been hurt- no, killed! What the hell were you trying to prove?!”

 

Yoojin tilted his head, slowly. Then finally, he spoke. His voice was quiet. Almost thoughtful. Very softly, he asked,

 

“...Hey, Yoohyun. Do you want me dead?”

 

The question hit the air like a dropped blade.

 

Yoohyun stopped cold.

 

“…What?”

 

“It’s a simple question.”

 

The fury on Yoohyun’s face faltered, replaced with confusion, before settling back into anger again. “Why the hell would you even say something like that?”

 

Yoojin stood up. Walked forward slowly, each step unhurried, deliberate. Towards his brother.

 

“If you want me dead,” he continued softly, “Then keep going. All you need to do is just keep treating me like this.”

 

Yoohyun flinched. His eyes widened.

 

“Keep talking to me like I’m a burden. Like I’m something to be ashamed of. Keep walking away. Go on. Keep pushing me away.”

 

“Hyung, what? I- I don't, What are you saying—”

 

“Now, don't play at being innocent, Yoohyun,” Yoojin said, smiling faintly. “You’ve been doing it for years. I’d dare say you've even become a real expert at it.”

 

“I don’t, no, I'm not-”

 

“As if the sole purpose of your very being is just to push me away as far as you can. Well, if you want me far away so badly, why stop at simply pushing me out of your life?”

 

He stepped even closer, until Yoohyun had to look directly into his eyes.

 

“The furthest you can push me, Yoohyun, is to the grave itself.”

 

Yoohyun’s breath caught.

 

“You always said I was weak. Powerless. That I shouldn’t get involved.”

 

Yoojin lowered his voice further, soft and sad. He continued.

 

“But did you ever think… maybe the only thing keeping me alive was you?”

 

Yoohyun took a half-step back.

 

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” Yoojin continued, smiling like he meant it. “I just want you to understand. If you keep pushing me away… then I will stop trying to live.”

 

His tone was so even. So reasonable. Like they were discussing a scheduling conflict, not life or death.

 

“Because without you at my side, living for me, there’s nothing left for me to live for.”

 

“Stop it,” Yoohyun whispered.

 

Yoojin’s smile didn’t waver. “Why? Does the truth scare you? Because if you want me dead, if that’s what you want- then fine. Just keep continuing on as have you been.”

 

Yoohyun shook his head, eyes wide. “That’s not what I meant by my actions. I just didn’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

 

“You didn’t want me to get hurt,” Yoojin repeated. “So you decided it was better to abandon me altogether?”

 

“Of course not—!”

 

“You didn’t even say goodbye, Yoohyun,” he said, voice still even. “Do you remember that? When you left? You packed your bags and told me I was a hindrance. And then you walked out.”

 

“I was trying to protect you!”

 

“No,” Yoojin said simply. “You were trying to escape me.”

 

Yoohyun’s face crumpled. “That’s not true.”

 

“It’s okay,” Yoojin said, with a small, patient smile. “You don’t have to say it. I already know.”

 

Yoohyun’s breath hitched.

 

“I know you thought I was weak. That you didn’t need me anymore. That I’d hold you back.”

 

Yoojin leaned in slightly, voice dropping.

 

“And maybe I was. Maybe you're absolutely right. But the moment you decided you were better off without me, that’s when I started dying.”

 

Yoohyun flinched like he'd been struck.

 

“You can’t say that—”

 

“Why not?” Yoojin asked. “Because it makes you feel guilty? Because it reminds you of how fragile and weak I really am?” He smiled faintly. “It’s the truth.”

 

Yoohyun looked down. His hands trembled.

 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you…”

 

“You don’t have to try,” Yoojin said gently. “You just have to keep doing what you’ve been doing. Then, you won’t have to worry about me for much longer.”

 

Yoohyun looked up sharply. “Don’t say that.”

 

“Why not?” Yoojin asked again. “You’re the one who made me feel disposable.”

 

“I didn’t mean to!” Yoohyun shouted.

 

Yoojin’s expression didn’t change. “But you did.”

 

There was a long silence between them. The kind that stretched and coiled and filled every breath like smoke.

 

Yoohyun’s shoulders began to shake. His mouth opened, but the words stumbled and fell apart.

 

And finally, finally-

 

Yoohyun broke.

 

His eyes filled. His hands trembled at his sides.

 

“I’ll do anything,” he choked out. “Just—don’t talk like that. Please. I’ll do anything for you.”

 

Yoojin’s heart stilled.

 

For a moment, the world held its breath.

 

But then—

 

[System Alert: Condition Met — Total Emotional Submission]

 

[You have Awakened.]

 

[Title Acquired: The One Who Shackles]

▶ Rank: L

▶ Description:
You do not love. You bind.
You do not protect. You possess.

 

[Unique Skill Acquired: Shackles of Shared Fate]

▶ Rank: L

  • They breathe for you. Bleed for you. Break in your place. Die in your place.

  • The skill activates the moment someone sincerely tells you, "I'll do anything for you." From that instant, their fate is bound to yours.

  • Upon activation, distance becomes torment. Defiance becomes agony.

  • Under specific conditions [Locked], Yoojin may use the abilities of those under his shackles.

  • Those who are shackled may try to flee, but every attempt only drives the shackles deeper. They will always return. Or they will break trying.

 

The world dropped away.

 

Shackles stirred in the void. Dark, gleaming. Alive.

 

The shackles were his.

 

They slithered toward him like loyal beasts, wrapping around his limbs, his spine, his heart.

 

Yoojin opened his eyes.

 

He was back in the room with Yoohyun.

 

Yoohyun still stood in front of him, tear-streaked and pale, his hands clutching Yoojin’s sleeves like a lifeline.

 

“You’ll never have to worry again,” he murmured. “I’ll make all the decisions for you from now on.”

 

Yoohyun blinked, confused. Still trembling.

 

Yoojin leaned in, their foreheads touching. His voice lowered into something darker. Intimate.

 

“There’s no need for doubt anymore. You’ve already chosen.”

 

He slid a hand behind Yoohyun’s neck, not to restrain, not yet, but to remind.

 

“Your place is with me, okay?”

 

After a moment, he felt Yoohyun nod. Then leaned against him fully to hug him. 

 

Then, softly, as a reward:

 

“Good boy.”

 

 

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

 

 

The first time Yerim met him, she’d just finished hauling a too-heavy box up two flights of stairs, only for the bottom to give out at the landing.

 

“Shit—!” she hissed as flyers and invoices exploded across the stairwell like confetti. She dropped to her knees, scrambling to gather the loose papers before they slipped through the railings or got stepped on.

 

“Here,” someone said.

 

She looked up. A man crouched beside her, already collecting pages with smooth efficiency. He handed them to her, neat and stacked.

 

He was in his late twenties, maybe, dressed too cleanly for this part of the building. Black coat, button-down, not a speck of dust on him.

 

She blinked. “Thanks. Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

 

“No problem,” he said with a polite smile. “It looked like you needed a hand.”

 

He helped her re-stack the box, or what was left of it, and carried it the rest of the way up without asking. She opened the door to her uncle’s cluttered workspace, muttered a distracted thanks, and assumed that was the end of it.

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t.

 

Two days later, she ducked into a corner café during lunch and found him already sitting by the window, laptop open, foam swirling on the surface of his untouched drink.

 

He looked up.

 

“Oh,” he said, smiling. “You again.”

 

She blinked. “Hi?”

 

“You’re the one from the stairwell. Bak Yerim, right?”

 

Her stomach twisted. “How do you know my name?”

 

“You had a name tag on. When I handed you the papers.”

 

...Right. That made sense.

 

He gestured to the opposite seat. “You want to sit? Or is that weird?”

 

She hesitated. “A little.”

 

He nodded agreeably and returned to his drink.

 

But she sat anyway.

 

 

 

 

After that, she ran into him a few more times.

 

Once at the corner store. Once at the bus stop outside her school. Another time while buying lunch at the bento shop near her workplace.

 

Each time, it felt natural. Unplanned. Coincidental.

 

But each time, he smiled like he’d been expecting her.

 

Eventually, they started texting.

 

Yerim:

My uncle’s making me re-inventory the shelves for like the tenth time this week just because I “look like I have free time.”

Yoojin:
That’s ridiculous. You work harder than most adults I know.

Yerim:
Wondering if it’s too late to fake my death and move to the mountains.

Yoojin:
If you do, just let me know first. I’ll bring snacks and forge you a new identity.

 

He was easy to talk to. He remembered things. He sent her memes, asked about her day, sent the occasional check-in during stormy weather.

 

She never had anyone like that before.

 

It became natural for her to open up to him about her day. So when she mentioned the upcoming parent-teacher meeting, offhandedly, she wasn’t expecting anything.

Yerim:
It’s  next Tuesday. Not that it matters. My uncle’s never shown up to one. Says it’s a waste of time.

 

He just sent back a thumbs-up emoji.

 

She didn’t think about it again.

 

 

 

 

Until Tuesday came.

 

She walked up the steps of her school building, bracing herself internally for the usual awkwardness of teachers sighing at the empty seat meant for her guardian.

 

But somehow, there was no empty seat.

 

Instead, she found Yoojin sitting outside the room. Holding a printed sign-in form with her name highlighted.

 

He stood when he saw her. Smiled like it was the most normal thing in the world.

 

“You said no one was coming,” he said. “That didn’t sit right with me.”

 

She didn’t know what to say.

 

He sat through the meeting. Nodded when her teacher complimented her written work. Pushed back gently when they brought up her absences.

 

He made her sound capable. Worth defending.

 

No one had ever done that before.

 

 

 

 

Afterward, they stepped out into the late afternoon air. She still clutched the folder in her hands, her thoughts muddled and warm.

 

She didn’t know how to say thank you, not properly.

 

But before Yerim could figure out how to say thank you, really say it, a sharp voice cut through the air behind her.

 

“So this is where you’ve been sneaking off to.”

 

She startled. Turned slightly.

 

A young man stood by the school gate, probably around early twenties. Tall, sharp eyed, handsome and his arms crossed like a barrier.

 

He wasn’t looking at her. He was staring straight at Yoojin. And not in a friendly way.

 

The look on his face, accusatory, almost hurt.

 

Yoojin sighed.

 

“Yerim,” he said gently. “Give me a second, okay?”

 

She nodded and stepped aside, pretending to check her phone. She moved just far enough to look busy, not enough to be out of earshot.

 

She couldn’t help it. The tone in that stranger’s voice had rattled something in her chest.

 

“Yoohyun,” Yoojin said softly. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I could ask you the same thing,” the boy snapped back. “You said you were just out running errands. Are you seriously playing dad for some random girl now?”

 

‘Random girl.’

 

Yerim flinched, just slightly. She ducked her head to hide it.

 

“She needed me,” Yoojin answered, calm.

 

“And I don’t?” the boy shot back. His voice cracked near the end, and he looked away like he regretted it. “You’ve been acting weird. I didn’t know where you were going, so I followed you.”

 

There was a long pause.

 

“And what did you expect to find?” Yoojin asked.

 

“I don’t know,” the boy muttered. “I just… I thought I was the only one you cared about like that.”

 

Yerim’s hands curled slightly around the folder in her grip.

 

The silence that followed dragged for a second too long.

 

Then she heard Yoojin again, his voice quieter. Softer.

 

“You don’t need to worry about anything. You know you’re the most important to me. Always.”

 

Another pause.

 

“I’m sorry,” he added, exhaling like he was the one holding tension. “I know it hurts to be away from me. Let’s talk about this later tonight, alright? Head back home for now. I’ll see you at dinner.”

 

A moment of silence. Then sounds of footsteps followed, slow at first, then fading.

 

She didn’t turn until she heard Yoojin returning.

 

When he came to stand beside her again, she kept her gaze politely forward, her expression carefully blank.

 

“Who was that?” she asked, keeping her tone even.

 

“My younger brother,” Yoojin said easily. He smiled like nothing had happened. “He’s just a little possessive. Don’t worry about him.”

 

 

 

 

She didn’t bring it up again.

 

Didn’t ask more about Yoohyun, or what exactly that conversation meant.

 

But it lingered with her anyway, not in a bad way, just in the quiet space behind her ribs. The kind of feeling that didn’t fade easily.

 

Like maybe, just maybe, she mattered enough to be fought over.

 

Like she wasn’t so easy to leave behind after all.

 

 

 

 

The breakdown came a few days later.

 

Her uncle screamed at her in front of a customer. Full volume. Called her lazy, a waste of time, a waste of space, incapable of doing anything right.

 

She didn’t cry there.

But later that night, outside a 24-hour convenience store with her food spilled across the pavement, she called Yoojin.

 

He came within twenty minutes.

 

No judgment. No questions. Just handed her a warm drink and sat beside her on the curb, letting her wear his coat while she trembled.

 

She tried not to cry.

 

She failed.

 

“You’re not weak,” he said eventually. “The world just taught you to believe you are. But you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

 

Her fingers clutched the warm drink in her hand so tightly it crinkled. Her voice shook.

 

“You’re the only one who ever shows up for me, the only one who cares,” she whispered, voice trembling.

 

“I’ll do anything for you, oppa. Just… don’t ever leave me, okay?”

 

Then, something changed.

 

It wasn't visible, no flash of light or sound.

 

But deep inside her chest, something snapped into place. Like a lock clicking shut.

 

Her breath hitched.

 

A sudden wave of heat rushed through her limbs, chased by something cold. She shivered, blinking hard.

 

“I… I feel weird,” she murmured. “Like something grabbed me. Did you feel that?”

 

Yoojin’s eyes were fixed on her.

 

There was something behind his gaze, quiet satisfaction? Almost joy.

 

But it vanished too quickly for her to place.

 

“It’s probably just stress,” he said lightly, brushing invisible dust from his coat thats hanging on her shoulder. “It’s been a long day.”

 

“No, no, it was more like, like something shifted in me?”

 

“That’s not unusual. This day has been really overwhelming for you” His tone stayed easy, calm. “But let’s not focus on that right now.”

 

She stared at him, unsure, still feeling the aftershocks under her skin.

 

Then Yoojin looked at her directly.

 

“Yerim,” he said gently, “do you want to become a Hunter?”

 

Her thoughts screeched to a halt.

 

“What?”

 

“You could awaken. Get out of here. Out of all of it.”

 

Her mouth opened. No sound came out.

 

Yoojin smiled, warm, almost kind.

 

“I can help you,” he said. “If you want it.”

 

She didn’t answer.

 

But she didn’t look away, either.

 

 

 

 

That night, she dreamed of shackles.

 

Alive and cold and gleaming. They didn’t hurt.

 

They just felt… inevitable.

 

 

Notes:

i see this version of yoojin as patient, willing to wait years even for his plan to work. its why in the first chapter, he didn’t give up for years in putting himself in harm’s way until yoohyun finally showed up for him to save him. thats why here with yerim, i figured he would be willing to carefully plan out every interaction, patiently and carefully integrating himself into her life until yerim reaches the point of no return

 

please let me know what you think. comments give so much joy. thanks for reading!

Chapter 4

Chapter Text

 

Sung Hyunjae wasn’t particularly fond of watching people.

 

But habits born out of curiosity died hard, and in Yoohyun’s case, it was hard to look away.

 

Yoohyun had always been a wildfire. Brilliant, destructive, untamable. Born to tear through dungeons, burn through enemies, destroy without hesitation. He didn’t talk much, but his presence always spoke loudly enough. And yet-

 

Lately, he’d stopped burning.

 

It began a few weeks ago. Yoohyun, ever the perfect Guild Leader, somehow started skipping dungeon raids.

 

Not a few, not occasionally.

 

All of them.

 

Officially, he cited internal guild management, paperwork, delegation. In practice, he simply stayed behind and sent others in his place.

 

That alone was strange.

 

But today made it stranger.

 

 

 

 

At a joint guild strategy meeting, Yoohyun sat with his usual unreadable expression, but Hyunjae noticed it immediately.

 

The stiffness in his shoulders. The way his gaze drifted to his phone every few minutes. The silence that felt heavier than normal. Yoohyun was always serious, yes, but he was not passive. He had opinions, objections, corrections. Now, he seemed too quiet. Like he wasn’t even really there. His mind was completely elsewhere.

 

He looked… tired. Or maybe something worse.

 

Withdrawn. Brittle. Strained in a way that didn’t make sense.

 

Which was strange. Because S-Rank Hunters didn’t get tired. Not like this. Not unless they’d been pushed to the edge in a high-rank dungeon, forced to expend every ounce of mana and muscle.

 

But Yoohyun hadn’t stepped into a dungeon in weeks.

 

So what, exactly, was wearing him down?

 

Hyunjae watched as Yoohyun excused himself the moment the meeting ended, slipping out onto the balcony with his phone already to his ear.

 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Not really.

 

But the glass door had a poor seal, and Hyunjae was curious. That was all.

 

"Please… just come home already."

 

Yoohyun’s voice was soft. Raw.

 

"I know you said you’d be with her today, but… why does it have to be her? You should be with me."

 

A pause.

 

"Yerim can wait. Just come home. Please. I just… it—it hurts."

 

Hyunjae blinked.

 

He’d never heard Yoohyun speak like that. Not ever. Not even after the worst S-rank injuries. Not after massive losses. Never with that trembling thread of desperation in his voice.

 

It sounded… like suffering. Like real, physical pain.

 

The call ended quietly.

 

And Hyunjae was left staring at the balcony door, one name echoing in his mind.

 

Yerim.

 

 

 

 

 

That night, Hyunjae stood alone in front of his aquarium, the glow of the tank casting faint light across his penthouse. The water shimmered. The fish darted in aimless patterns, graceful and unaware.

 

He stared at his reflection.

 

A report blinked open on his tablet beside him.

 

[New S-Class Hunter Confirmed: Bak Yerim]

Guild Affiliation: Haeyeon Guild

Guardian Listed: Han Yoojin

 

And then it clicked.

 

Yerim. The name Yoohyun had spoken over the phone. The one he’d pleaded to be prioritized less.

 

Which meant Yoohyun had been on the phone with Yoojin.

 

Han Yoojin.

 

He knew the name.

 

Yoohyun’s older brother. Supposedly unawakened. The man who raised a monster like Yoohyun.

 

And now, apparently, the legal guardian of another S-Class monster. 

 

What were the odds?

 

Hyunjae scrolled back to the report.

 

What caught his attention wasn’t just that Yerim was S-Class. It was the timeline.

 

She had signed with Haeyeon before her Awakening was officially confirmed by the Association.

 

That never happened.

 

Hunters awakened first, then guilds fought over them to recruit them.

 

Not the other way around.

 

It was almost like someone already knew that she was going to awaken as an S-rank. Like someone made the arrangements in advance.

 

His eyes lingered on the name again.

 

Han Yoojin.

 

Whatever had passed between the two brothers, it hadn’t been ordinary. Yoohyun wasn’t just upset. He was in agony.

 

It sounded as if distance from Yoojin wasn’t a matter of inconvenience but actual torment.

 

And Yerim… could she be the same?

 

He looked again at the listing. S-Class. Guardian: Han Yoojin.

 

It was absurd. Ridiculous.

 

And yet.

 

A thought stirred. A hypothesis.

 

What if Yoojin wasn’t unawakened at all?

 

What if he had a skill? One that only activated under rare conditions. One that didn’t fight directly but controlled. Influenced. 

 

A skill that could shackle S-Class hunters to him.

 

It would explain a lot.

 

The timing. The guardianship. Yoohyun's look of pain.

 

The kind of bond that didn’t nurture, but chained.

 

He thought again of Yoohyun’s voice.

 

"Please, it hurts."

 

A skill?

 

He looked back at the report.

 

Then closed it. And smiled.

 

How interesting.

 

 

 

 

 

Two days later, Sung Hyunjae made an unannounced visit to the Haeyeon Guild headquarters.

 

He wasn’t expected, but he was welcomed. No one ever turned him away.

 

He made polite rounds, asked innocuous questions, then made his way to Yoohyun’s office under the guise of formal congratulations.

 

Yoohyun didn’t look up right away.

 

“Congratulations,” Hyunjae said smoothly. “A new S-rank is no small feat. Bak Yerim, was it?”

 

Yoohyun’s eyes flicked up briefly. His expression stayed blank, jaw tight.

 

“…Yes.”

 

“I heard she’s already doing well in training,” Hyunjae continued, voice light.

 

Yoohyun didn’t look at him this time.

 

“She's fine.”

 

Hyunjae tilted his head slightly. The air between them cooled.

 

“Not much of a talker today, are you?”

 

Yoohyun didn’t answer.

 

Hyunjae took a slow step forward. “It must be a relief. Someone new for your guild. Or maybe... someone new for your brother to care for?”

 

That made Yoohyun flinch.

 

His jaw tightened and his eyes burned with a glare.

 

It would've made anyone else run away in fear, but fortunately he's not just anyone.

 

“I don’t want to talk about this.” His voice came out almost as a growl.

 

Hyunjae tilted his head, voice dipping lower.

 

“Oh? That’s strange. I heard the two of you were living together again.”

 

Yoohyun stood up, his chair scraping back. The room’s air changed, more tense now, stifling.

 

Hyunjae smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it.

 

“Of course,” he added lightly, “I understand. It’s just that there’s so many interesting things happening all at once. Sudden awakenings. A new S-rank recruit. Siblings reunited.”

 

He took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

 

“Han Yoohyun,” Hyunjae said softly. “What kind of skill do you think your brother has, exactly?”

 

Yoohyun flinched—barely, but enough. His eyes narrowed, posture tightening.

 

“My brother is unawakened,” he said, voice taut.

 

But the words rang hollow. More like a reflex than truth.

 

Hyunjae’s smile didn’t shift. He stepped closer, voice lowering.

 

“Strange,” he murmured. “Because whatever he’s doing… it’s tearing you apart.”

 

Yoohyun didn’t answer.

 

“Or maybe,” Hyunjae added, tone almost fascinated, “it’s just who he is. Maybe that’s all it takes.”

 

Silence gripped the space between them.

 

And then, everything became fire.

 

 

Notes:

i always wanted a story where yoojin wasn’t fooled by yoohyun’s actions of pushing him away. combined with a twisted take of yoojin actually being the reason why yoohyun is so crazily protective and possessive of him because thats how yoojin raised him to be like

 

hope you enjoyed that and please let me know your thoughts!! ill try to update the second chapter soon