Transmigration or illusion

After that, a silence fell between the two of them. Unable to stand the heavy quiet, Zidan took the initiative to start a light conversation.

"Bro."

"Hm?"

"If I died before you... would you accept it?" Zidan blurted out without much thought. He wasn't sure why, but his mind suddenly returned to the illness haunting his new body.

Early-stage leukemia—something no one in this body's family even knew about.

Arutala froze. He didn't know how to respond. He slowly lowered his phone, eyes now fixed fully on Zidan. His expression shifted from neutral to serious.

"You just woke up from passing out... and now you're talking about death?" Arutala muttered, his voice deep.

Zidan grinned awkwardly, trying to hide his nerves. "Hehe... come on, it's just a hypothetical question. No need to take it that seriously, Bro."

But Arutala didn't say a word. His gaze stayed sharp—but it wasn't anger. It was... concern.

"Did you have a dream or something?" Arutala finally asked.

Zidan fell silent. He looked down, fingers gently clenching the blanket, feeling the texture of the crescent moon pendant still in his grip.

"Not a dream..." he whispered. "More like... a deal. With someone."

Arutala tilted his head. "What kind of deal?"

Zidan turned toward the window, where sunlight danced in his eyes.

"A deal to live better. To stop running from reality. To protect the people I love."

Arutala stared at him for a while. Then, suddenly, he stood up and messed up Zidan's hair in a deliberately rough, playful way.

"This kid... just woke up and already talking like the main character of some drama. You're rambling, man."

"Hey! Bro! My hair! That hurts, you know! My head's still sensitive!"

Arutala chuckled. "But... if you were serious earlier about dying first... my answer is: I wouldn't accept it."

Zidan looked up, surprised.

"I couldn't accept that. I've already lost too many people I love."

Arutala's voice carried an emotion that Zidan wasn't used to hearing from him—no longer calm or cold, but raw. Vulnerable.

"So if you're thinking about leaving... drop it. Right now. The life you've been given is a bonus. Use it wisely."

Zidan swallowed hard. He didn't know why, but those words hit him—more than a slap, more than a lecture.

"...Yes, sir," he replied softly, with a small smile.

'But you should know, Bro… your cousin's body might not last much longer. Even his soul already left it. What you're seeing now isn't Ryu—but Zidan, the son of Mak Siti.'

Zidan smiled faintly to himself, imagining the day they'd finally learn the truth.

A few seconds later, the atmosphere lightened again.

"But hey, I'm still curious, Bro. When I passed out... did someone cry?" Zidan's somber expression quickly turned cheerful again. Wasn't this kid way too good at switching moods?

Arutala raised an eyebrow. "You mean... me?"

"Yeah... I mean, maybe you—this famously stoic and cold brother—suddenly cried your eyes out while hugging me?"

"Did you have a nightmare or something?"

"Oh come on, just admit it already! You cried, right? When I passed out? Come on, just say it!"

"Tch." Arutala scoffed and walked away, ears visibly red.

"Ah, he ran away," Zidan chuckled, and for the first time in a long time, he felt the warmth of having an older brother again—like he once had before.

And somehow, in the middle of that laughter, he could hear Ryu's voice faintly in his mind.

"Live your life, Zi. But don't forget… this is your story now."

SLAM!

Not long after Arutala left, the door to Zidan's hospital room burst open, followed by a high-pitched shriek that sent goosebumps crawling all over his skin.

"Oh my God, my darling nephew! My honey sweety! Forgive your auntie, baby..."

A woman with heavy makeup and a cloud of intense perfume stormed in like a hurricane. With dramatic flair and quick steps, she rushed to the hospital bed where Zidan lay with a bandage on his forehead.

Still dazed from the fainting incident caused by a flying high heel, Zidan could only widen his eyes in horror.

"Eh?" was all he could say before his head was pulled into a bear hug so tight it could rival a grizzly's.

"Good heavens! You nearly gave your auntie a heart attack! What is this, a soap opera? Passing out from a shoe?!"

Zidan was still half-conscious, part of his soul seemingly left behind at the "mirror lake" where he'd met Ryu. He didn't know what to say. And worse, his face was now directly pressed against two... identical peaks. His mind completely froze.

"Umm… who are you?" he asked weakly, though he had a strong hunch that this flamboyant woman calling him "nephew" and "my honey sweety" was Ryu's aunt.

The woman suddenly paused. Her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Don't tell me... you have amnesia? It's me! Your fabulous, gorgeous, unforgettable auntie! How could you forget me?!"

Stunned, she let go of the suffocating hug and stared at Zidan in disbelief.

Before Zidan could nod or deny it, a doctor walked in holding a medical chart.

"Sorry, Ma'am, could you give us a moment to examine the patient?"

The woman—apparently Auntie Lydia, older sister to Ryu's biological father—stood up and flipped her silver-dipped purple hair. She huffed dramatically.

"Fine. I'll wait outside. Ryu, darling, don't stress, okay? I'll bring you boba later!" she said sweetly, in a tone that didn't quite match her appearance—like a retired Y2K-era pop diva. She even gave Zidan's cheeks a little squeeze on her way out.

Once Lydia was finally out of the room, Zidan collapsed back onto the bed and laid his head on the pillow. He exhaled deeply, trying to calm his overwhelmed mind.

"Do I seriously have to deal with that woman every day from now on?" he muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling in resignation.

"Oh God... I don't think I can survive..."

Visions of Lydia—her shrill voice calling him "my honey sweety," the surprise hugs, the kisses on his cheek without warning, the traumatizing cheek pinches—all replayed in his mind. He was pretty sure his cheeks still ached.

He winced and covered his face with his hands.

"I totally regret this... Why did I ever agree to Ryu's request earlier...?" he groaned.

"Dear God... Please, just bring the apocalypse already," he added with a sour face.

The doctor checking his vitals only smiled knowingly. Maybe this was a patient with mild trauma… or possibly very severe. Who knew?

Zidan closed his eyes for a moment. The image of Ryu—the original owner of this body—flashed again in his memory. That cold, quiet voice repeated a warning:

"Take good care of this body, because your life is now tied to mine. And one more thing… don't fall in love with someone I used to love."

Zidan opened his eyes slowly. His lips pouted in protest.

"...Well now I'm extra curious who it was, thanks to that warning..."