Rincón de la Fangirl

The wooden sword felt like absolute lead in your hands. Your chest heaved, sweat dripping off your chin to water the dusty dirt of the secluded training grounds.

"Keep your stance up! Your arms are dropping! Do you think an enemy’s blade is going to pause just because you're tired?!"

Chung Myung’s grating voice barked from a few feet away. Before you could even attempt to adjust your footing, a blur of motion snapped forward.

Crack.

His wooden sword struck yours with enough force to send a jolt of pure electricity straight up your shoulders. Your knees finally gave out. You collapsed hard onto the cold ground, gasping for air, lungs burning like they were stuffed with cotton.

"Ah, look at you!" He stomped over, towering above you with his hands on his hips, exasperated as ever. "Collapsing already? We’ve barely been at it for two hours! up! Are you trying to die of embarrassment before a real sword even touches you?! If you don't get up right now, I'm making you climb the peak with boulders on your back—"

"I had a weird dream last night!" you blurted out hastily. You were desperate to stop the incoming lecture before he actually forced you to haul rocks up the mountain.

Chung Myung paused mid-rant. His mouth hung half-open, eyebrows knitting together in sheer annoyance. "What?"

"A dream!" you repeated, sitting up slowly. You rubbed the back of your neck, laughing nervously to soften his glare. "It was super weird, okay? I dreamt we were somewhere totally different, surrounded by fire... and you looked completely exhausted. Like you’d been fighting forever."

You shook your head, waving a hand dismissively.

"And the crazy part? In the dream, I actually jumped in front of an attack for you. Isn't that hilarious? As if I could ever shield you. But... I don't know, when I woke up, my chest just felt really heavy. Like I was sad for a long time..."

Chung Myung didn't yell.

He didn't snort.

He didn't call you stupid.

The loud, chaotic air around him evaporated instantly. His sharp pink-reddish eyes narrowed, and his grip on his wooden sword tightened so hard the wood gave a tiny, silent groan.

A dream?

His brain—deadlier and sharper than anyone ever gave him credit for—connected the dots in a fraction of a second. It wasn't a dream. It was you. The fool from a hundred years ago who had thrown herself onto a blade meant for him, dying in his arms and leaving him with a blood-stained debt he never asked for.

She's starting to remember.

Before you could register the sudden, chilling silence, a shadow fell over you.

Chung Myung dropped to one knee right in front of you. Without a single word, his broad, calloused palm came down flat over your face, completely blocking your vision. It wasn't a soft touch—it was heavy, hot, smelling faintly of sweat and dry liquor, clamping down to lock your head in place.

"Stop talking nonsense," he said.

His voice wasn't his usual loud bark. It was low. Raspy. It carried a sudden, dangerous edge that made the hair on your arms stand straight up.

"A dream is just a dream," he grunted, his thumb pressing firmly against your temple. "It's stupid. Forget it."

You froze. Startled by the sudden darkness and the sheer, suffocating gravity in his tone, you opened your mouth to protest. But as his heavy hand stayed pressed over your eyes, your face suddenly flushed bright, searing red. Your breath caught, and your heart began to hammer frantically against your ribs.

Ah.

Chung Myung felt the sudden heat bloom against his palm. He felt the tiny tremor in your breath, the rapid, frantic fluttering of your pulse beating against his fingers.

He blinked in the dark silence, staring down at you.

You weren't trying to push his hand away. You weren't yelling at him to get off. You were blushing furiously, your heart practically leaping out of your chest just because he was holding your face.

Even without those old memories—even without knowing who he used to be—you were already completely, stupidly in love with him all over again.

A slow, crooked grin pulled at the corner of Chung Myung's mouth. It wasn't a kind smile. It was sharp, dark, and utterly unhinged.

If you kept digging into those "dreams," you’d eventually remember the blood, the fire, and the tragedy. You’d look at him with those same pitiful, self-sacrificing eyes, or worse, try to throw your life away for him a second time.

‘Screw that.’

He wasn't going to watch you bleed out again.

And conveniently, you’d just handed him the exact leash he needed to keep you right where he wanted you.

He didn't gently lift his hand. Instead, he roughly dragged his palm down, grabbing your chin in a firm, unyielding grip and forcing you to look straight into his eyes.

His face was inches from yours. His eyes gleamed with a fierce, possessive intensity that made your head spin.

"Hey," he rasped, scowling slightly, though the dangerous glint in his eyes completely betrayed him. "Why are you sitting there sighing over stupid nightmares when I'm standing right in front of you?"

You swallowed hard, your face burning as you stared into his overwhelming gaze. The lingering sadness from your dream vanished, wiped out completely by his sheer presence.

"If you've got time to waste thinking about fake memories, you've got time to pay attention to me," Chung Myung grunted. His thumb roughly stroked your jawline before he finally let go, standing up and towering over you with a dark, satisfied smirk. "Don't bring up that garbage again. Got it?"

You nodded dumbly, completely flustered and breathless for a whole different reason now.

Chung Myung turned his back, resting his wooden sword over his shoulder as he looked down at you. A terrifyingly possessive glint lingered in his eyes.

If love was what kept your eyes locked on him and off the past, he’d use every single bit of it. He'd make sure you were far too busy dealing with him in this life to ever have a single second to remember the last one.

author's note: oh god this is my first fic! I had to use google and my friend help to translate it from my native language so I’m sorry if there are errors ! Also let me point out that I am mahwa reader so if my boy sounds OCC sorry!

Anyway my brain is rotting over this concept. We need to talk about the fact that this man has so much PTSD he literally weaponized his own rizz. He has no idea what therapy is, so he chose manipulation instead! Bro really grabbed your face and said, "look at me, do not look at the trauma."

All members of the Heavenly Comrades Alliance (well, or the majority) roughly understood the habits of the feline species. But after the arrival of their commander, they had to delve much deeper into them.

For example, it was customary for snow leopards, which Cheong Myeong was one of, to carry their tail in their mouth when walking, as it was too large and got in the way.

Because of which, all members of the alliance had to watch as their commander, with a proud and bitchy expression after beating up yet another bastard, took his comically large, fluffy, and damn cute tail in his mouth and walked with it.

"Maybe we should tell him that this completely ruins his whole image of a strong and fearsome opponent?" one of the disciples asked cautiously.

"Don't you dare, or Dojang will stop doing it."

"And then we'll send you down the mountain headfirst."

"...Crazy bastards."

And the fact that it was two alliance leaders saying this– Seol Sobaek and Namgung Dowi, made it all the more sad.

* * *

"Wait, would catnip affect Cheong Myeong the same as ordinary cats? Or not, because he's a leopard?" Jo Geol suddenly asked, because of which everyone in the room turned to him.

"How do you know about that?"

"Oh, for God's sake, you're all just like that rascal Cheong Myeong! I was born into a merchant family!"

Tang Soso nodded thoughtfully and abruptly stood up.

"We'll check right now."

.....

For the sake of the experiment, the Five Swords and the monk unanimously decided to deceive Sasuk, who usually got the most of the catnip during training, and observe.

Baek Cheon tried to refuse, of course, but who cares about his opinion.

"..."

Baek Cheon's face began to sweat under the intense gaze of the vertical pupils.

After a short period of rampage and beating up the disciples, Cheong Myeong completely calmed down, which was out of character for him. And what was even stranger, he simply got really close to his Sasuk and... Rubbing against him, began to emit a quiet purr.

"Lord Almighty."

"Is this the end of times? We're all going to die now."

The disciples' reaction was unequivocal. But paying no attention to them, Cheong Myeong had already literally climbed onto Baek Cheon's body.

"..Soso, I think the experiment was a success. Maybe we should rescue Sasuk after all?"

"Did you see his eyes?"

"Huh?" After looking closer, Cheong Myeong's pupils really were too dilated. "Oh. He's high."

"And what do you think he'll do if we try to take Baek Cheon away?"

...

"We're leaving. Someday the smell will fade and we'll take him back."

" Traitors!" Baek Cheon shouted, as Cheong Myeong began to lick his cheek, and his long tail completely wrapped around him like a rope.

(A small sketch of snow leopard Cheong Myeong that I drew a long time ago.)

Right after his reincarnation, he would hardly have paid much attention to the people around him. To the fact that many of them literally had injuries incompatible with life. The first signs came when he had already reached Mount Hua.

"What's that child screaming about?"

"What do you mean?" Yun Jong asked in bewilderment. It was clear from his face that he truly hadn't heard anything.

Cheong Myeong stared at him for some time.

The screaming didn't stop. Rather, on the contrary, it felt as though it was no longer just one child screaming, but at least a hundred.

.......

"What are you lazing around here for?! Go swing your sword if you have the strength!"

After that, Cheong Myeong quickly figured out that these were the screams of the children who had died fighting the cultists who had come to Mount Hua after the Heavenly Demon's death. Every time he heard the screams again, he would go into the prayer hall and, placing sticks of incense, pray for their repose, and the screams would quiet down.

If only it were that simple, but ghosts are everywhere. And telling them apart from ordinary people, if they have no visible injuries, is almost impossible. Because of which, all the kids look at him strangely when he steps around something invisible and sometimes glances back, as if hearing something.

* * *

When they arrived at the Tang Clan, these oddities became impossible to ignore. Cheong Myeong began talking to the air as if to his best friend.

He complained to them, joked, laughed, and even got angry. And most importantly, he was clearly happy.

"Maybe he has schizophrenia?" Jo Geol quietly suggested. The gazes of the four immediately turned towards their junior.

"Possibly."

* * *

When they were searching for their ancestor's grave, Cheong Myeong spent some time talking to the air. And then...

"...That way."

.....

After discovering the bones, he began talking to himself twice as much. Having pieced the puzzle together, it wasn't hard to guess.

"He hears ghosts?"

"I think he sees them too." Tang Soso answered. She had more than once seen him staring at a single spot, as if at someone.

"And what do we do?" Jo Geol asked, and notes of nervousness could be heard in his voice.

"We should inform everyone else. I think there is medicine for this," Baek Cheon said confidently. Or rather, he wanted to appear confident.

Everyone nodded.

* * *

"Here!"

"What is this?" Cheong Myeong asked, looking at the talisman Im Sobyeong held out. All the alliance leaders had gathered around and were looking at him with a kind of awe and anticipation. What had they come up with now?

"This helps get rid of the ability to see ghosts. They say shamans usually use them in everyday life so as not to go mad."

"Why do I need it?"

"...Everyone gifted with this uses them so as not to go mad," Tang Gunak said. His face was worried. Behind him, Tang Bo put on a serious face and nodded.

Cheong Myeong raised his eyebrows.

"I have no need for it. These ghosts are my loved ones."

"What?!"

"Cheong Myeong, you don't understand. You're literally going to slowly go mad at this rate. The living shouldn't have such frequent contact with the dead! It can..." Cheong Mun, next to him, patted Baek Cheon on the head.

Cheong Jin rolled his eyes.

"Sasuk. I don't care."

"..."

"I'll say more. They're the only thing that helps me."

Cheong Myeong smiled. Everyone who saw it felt shivers run down their skin.

"So don't worry. Everything is under control."

Opening his eyes right after his death, Tang Bo learns first of all: a hundred years have passed, some war with Paegun had started, and his dear Hyung had also reincarnated. The last part was the most important, since there couldn't exist two identically insane bastards in the story.

When the theory was confirmed and they rushed into each other's embrace, Tang Bo could catch, out of the corner of his eye, angry and even envious gazes directed at him.

'Maybe the previous owner of this body did something to them?' Tang Bo thought and immediately dismissed them.

Until the moment the young head of the Namgung family challenged him to a duel. Which he lost miserably. After him, there was some handsome guy from Mount Hua who first politely questioned him about his relationship with Cheong Myeong, and then also challenged him to a duel and lost.

After that, watching Hyung's surroundings far more closely and learning the stories, Tang Bo understood that he now had far more rivals than in the past!

* * *

"Hyung, what relationship ties you and Paegun... Uh, Jang Ilso, I think." Cheong Myeong raised his brows and said.

"His neck belongs to me."

"......"

"We are enemies, and someday I will cut off his head."

"PHEW... Do it as fast as possible, Hyung." Tang Bo exhaled in relief and smiled, pouring out the alcohol along with the note.

'To my dear swordsman♡.'

He had been pursuing him for decades, get in line, dandy boy.

* * *

"What is that Tang bastard constantly doing next to Cheong Myeong-a?! He's even sleeping in the same room with him! There's no second bed there!"

"Where did he even come from?"

...

All gazes instantly turned to Tang Gunak, who looked no less furious.

"According to my information, this was supposed to be their first meeting."

"If Dojang was a beggar before, how could he have met a child from the Tang Clan's collateral line? The bastard is three years younger than him."

"No idea."

From the open window came a voice that had become so hateful lately.

"Hyung-nim!! I bought wine! Though I ran out of money, but let's go rob some bandits!"

"Let's go!"

"...Are they aware they're stealing from their own?" Im Sobyeong muttered in exhaustion.

"Madness attracts."