Not the sky above the world—
the sky above his memory.
It had been weeks since he returned to 2025.
Weeks of rebuilding.
Of standing tall.
But something still itched under his skin.
A wrongness.
Like he'd left a door half-closed in a burning house.
Haejin noticed it before he said anything.
"You're here, but your heart isn’t."
He nodded.
"There’s something I missed. Something I… forgot on purpose."
That night, they activated the Converter together.
Coordinates locked.
Target Era: Autumn 2007.
Location: Hospital, Seoul.
Status: Suppressed Memory.
When they landed, the world was dim.
A pale hospital corridor.
The sound of wheels squeaking.
A young man in a suit—too big for him—sat slumped on a bench, eyes red.
It was Moneytory.
Just younger.
And infinitely more broken.
Haejin’s breath caught.
“This was before your father died.”
Moneytory nodded slowly.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“The day I quit art.
The day I stopped being who I was.”
He stepped forward.
They watched the younger version of him argue with a doctor.
Words not remembered.
Anger, frustration, guilt—yes.
But the exact moment? Fuzzy. Warped.
Until—
A woman stepped into the hallway.
His mother.
Carrying a small, worn notebook.
She handed it to young-Moneytory.
“Your father wrote this last night.
He said to give it to you when you stop pretending to be someone else.”
The present-day Moneytory stiffened.
"I never read that.
I left it on a shelf.
I told myself it was just… too late."
Haejin put a hand on his arm.
"Then read it now."
He stepped forward.
Took the notebook from her hand.
Reality trembled as memory rewrote itself.
Inside the notebook:
"Son,
You were born with color in your hands,
but the world convinced you to become grey."
"Don't.
Build.
Paint.
Break things.
Feel."
"Even if I’m gone—don't live like you're already dead."
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He had forgotten.
No—he had buried it.
This was the day his creativity died.
Not because he lost someone,
but because he lost the courage to feel.
“I spent years blaming the world,” he whispered.
“But it was me. I walked out on myself.”
Haejin wiped his face.
“Then maybe… it's time to walk back in.”
As they turned to leave the memory,
the hallway darkened.
And someone stepped out of the shadows.
Mirror Moneytory.
Or what was left of him.
Twisted. Glitching. Fragmented.
“You’re rewriting yourself again? How adorable.”
“You shouldn’t exist anymore,” Moneytory growled.
“You keep forgetting—
I am you.
I’m every piece you still regret.”
They clashed.
Not with fists.
With truth.
Mirror: "You're still afraid."
Moneytory: "I am. And I’m not hiding anymore."
Mirror: "You think emotions make you strong?"
Moneytory: "No. They make me human."
In a final burst of light,
the memory consumed the ghost.
Not deleted.
Integrated.
Back in the present,
Moneytory sat on the rooftop of the hospital.
The same one from 2007.
Older now.
But no longer running.
Haejin sat beside him.
“Did you get what you needed?”
He smiled.
“No.
I got what I’d forgotten I already had.”
To be continued...