THE WORLD THAT WON'T LET YOU GO
synopsis: after a semi-chaotic halloween night celebration at the local club, y/n’s life suddenly took a turn that led her to unexpectedly meet and connect with mina myoui. what begins as an encounter of a twist of fate slowly grows into a deep love that feels too perfect—but as time passes, subtle disturbances begin to creep in, which blurred the line between what is real and what wasn’t.
⋆ pairing: doctor!mina myoui x f. reader ⋆ warnings: angst, profanity/inappropriate terms, alcohol use, car accident, hospitalization, psychological distress, glitch in the matrix ⋆ word count: 7.4k
notes: it's my first time posting here! took me months to finish this oml... (also kinda not proof read so there might be errors) anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! :)
Halloween is just right around the corner. Kids are dressed up in cheap costumes from either Dollar Tree or Walmart, carrying a classic plastic orange pumpkin basket filled with different kinds of candies enough to give them diabetes. The streets are glowing orange from all the lanterns placed throughout the neighborhood, while all the houses are plastered with fake cobwebs and creepy common decor.
However, halloween isn’t just for trick or treating, and certainly not just for children. For Y/N and her friends, this was an opportunity to have fun and escape the stress of work.
“Oh my god, Y/N, can you drive any faster?” Nayeon exclaimed, peaking out from the backseat.
“What do you expect from her twelve-year-old Lexus?” Sana popped her lips and closed the sunvisor mirror, “This ‘twelve-year-old Lexus’ is the reason all of you ungrateful women have free transportation. Unless one of you secretly has a Ferrari I don’t know about, shut it.” Y/N rebutted as they all shared a laugh.
“And please, next time you use the mirror, close it gently.” Y/N turned to Sana as the latter just gave her a playful smile. “Yeah, close it gently so the engine doesn’t fall out.” Momo added, earning a glare from Y/N.
“I hate all of you,” Y/N flipped them off lovingly before pressing a button. “At least my car is a convertible.” The convertible roof folded back, revealing the night sky above them.
“That’s the only great thing about this ca— Y/N!” Nayeon was cut off and yelled as the Lexus shot forward, accelerating from 60 to 120 in an instant.
“Fasten your seatbelts losers!” Y/N yelled, grinning as the city blurred into neon streaks around them.
“Okay, I take it back. Your Lexus isn’t bad at all.” Momo says as she fastens her seatbelt, looking over to Nayeon. The girl’s hair was all over her face and she’s clearly fuming.
“This is fun!” Sana yelled, raising her hands in the air. The two girls up front are having their fun, while the two in the back are clearly not impressed.
In less than ten minutes, they were already at their destination. “Aaand we’re here.” Y/N halted to a stop and closed the roof, looking back at the two girls who were frozen (and probably traumatized). “You guys look…”
“Crazy.” Sana continued as she looked at them through the rearview mirror.
“I’m gonna kill you, Y/N.” Nayeon threatened the woman as she stroked her hair back and removed the remaining strands from her face, looking at Y/N with an evil glare. “You say that every other day. Anyway, let’s go!”
The four girls entered the club with ease and went straight to the bar. They were all in outfits which quickly caught the attention of others. “Wow, they’re all looking at me.” Nayeon chuckled with confidence as the three gave her a look.
“Please, they’re clearly looking at me.” Y/N corrected as they all scoffed in unison, “Why would they want to look at the both of you when I’m right here?” Sana added, swaying her body to the music and dragging her hands up her body.
“Enough, the three of you. God, I need a drink!” Momo groaned as she ordered a glass of bourbon and sat on the stool.
Laser lights flashed, music blasted, bodies swayed, and the entire place reeked of alcohol and sweat. Classic Halloween at a night club.
The costumes they wore were common, but they definitely knew how to carry themselves by the way they earned a lot of people’s attention. Y/N was wearing a ‘Joker’ inspired costume—black slacks, paired with a white long-sleeve and a purple tie. Sana was matching costumes with Y/N, she’s dressed up as Harley Quinn, dolled up in a mini-short with a matching jacket.
Sana tugged Y/N’s tie, “We look so hot.”
The other two, Nayeon and Momo, are wearing Hooters waitress outfits. “You two look insane,” Momo muttered in her costume.
“This is a costume party, why did the both of you wear your work uniform?” Sana shot back as the two were taken aback. “That’s a compliment.”
“To look like a Hooters waitress?” Y/N asked with her eyebrow raised.
“To look employed.”
“Whatever girls, I’m going to hook up with him.” Nayeon immediately spotted a guy across the room. Before she even gets to walk towards the guy she has been eyeing out for the past five minutes, Y/N grabs her arm. “No you’re not. Nayeon, I need to know if I’m driving you home—”
Nayeon kissed Y/N’s cheek, whispering, “Live a little, babe.” before disappearing into the crowd.
Eventually the group scattered like confetti thrown too hard.
The night went by fast, it was all a blur to Y/N. She doesn’t know if it’s the amount of drinks she took, or the way the club was just so packed and it felt too dizzying. All of them eventually split up and were not going to go home together anymore.
Nayeon probably went to hook up with some guy, Sana and Momo probably did the same. But Y/N just stayed in the bar and sat still in the stool. She glanced at her phone to check the time and decided that it was time to go home.
She left a bill under the shot glass and left the scene, walking up to her car and starting the engine.
Y/N was drunk, but not entirely. Half drunk, half sober. She then drives out of the parking lot, heading down to the road.
She was driving well and could manage, but then her head started to throb uncontrollably. It started to affect her vision too, then it all became too blurry, but she still kept on driving.
The traffic light flashed orange, but her vision was too fucked up to see that it had already changed to red. She kept on driving, and that’s when a cargo truck hit her car hard and fast.
—
Y/N stirred up.
She opened her eyes to see a white ceiling, the sound of machinery beeping entering her ears, and the smell of sterile air flooding her nostrils.
She saw a nurse standing next to her. The nurse checking the logs beside her noticed Y/N’s attempt to move, and she alerted the doctor in an instant.
The door opens almost immediately, revealing a woman in a clad white suit with scrubs underneath, holding a clipboard with a stethoscope around her neck.
This woman is probably the most beautiful woman Y/N has ever seen.
“Hello, I’m Dr. Mina Myoui.”
“Can you understand me properly?” Dr. Myoui asks, her voice calm as silk, “Yes.” Y/N nodded as she tried to mumble.
“Can you see properly?” The doctor asks again.
“…only when I look at you.”
Dr. Myoui blinked, taken aback with her patient’s flirtatious remark. Then, she laughed softly.
“Your vitals are stable,” Dr. Myoui murmured, a faint smile tugging at her lips, “but if I’m the only thing you see clearly… that sounds less like a symptom and more like a preference.”
“Anyway, that’s good. It’s unusual for patients with an accident like this to wake up early, but I’m seeing that your results are positive. Thankfully, the car crash didn’t damage any parts of your brain or any vital nerve in your body.” Dr. Myoui explains, while observing the machines all connected to Y/N’s body.
“That’s… relieving to hear.” Y/N replies weakly as Dr. Myoui places a hand on her shoulder, “Don’t try to do anything yet, you’re still recovering. Refrain from moving or talking much.” Dr. Myoui informs Y/N with a smile.
“Well, I’ll check up on you and see you later. Rest well, Ms. Y/N.” Dr. Myoui grabbed the clipboard and left the room, leaving Y/N alone there, in an empty and poorly decorated hospital room.
Later arrived, and it was time for the check up. Dr. Myoui arrived again, but this time, no white coat and clipboard. Her hair was laid down, and the stethoscope was nowhere to be seen.
Y/N’s heartbeat spiked so dramatically the monitor betrayed her entire soul. Dr. Myoui saw that Y/N’s heart raised due to the vital monitor exposing her heartbeat.
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Myoui asked, “Your heart is beating faster and faster. Are you nervous?”
“You’re very…”
“Yes?”
“Beautiful.” Y/N muttered out with effort, clearly weak enough to speak in full sentences.
“Oh, really now? Are you sure it’s not the concussion making you say all these?”
“Anyway, you’re in good condition. I’ll have a nurse to feed you and prep you for tonight. You still need to stay here for three or more days since we need to monitor your condition and do check ups from time to time.” Dr. Myoui gives Y/N a small smile and heads out through the door.
—
Those three days became conversations.
Y/N surprisingly managed to get past the doctor’s walls through corny jokes and poor flirtatious attempts. Y/N kept pestering Mina with her silly doings and eventually got her number.
Their conversations became coffee outside hospital walls. A few coffee dates became romantic dinners. Dinners then became comfortably living together under one roof. They both started officially dating five months after Y/N was discharged from the hospital.
Dating Mina felt like starring in a romantic movie or being the main lead character in a best-selling romance novel. Mina had a way of making Y/N feel at ease without ever trying. Being near her was like sitting by a glowing fireplace, a mug of hot chocolate cradled in her hands while snow fell quietly outside.
When Y/N wakes up beside Mina and gets a glimpse of her face, it feels like soft sunlight spilling across her eyes on a slow Saturday morning. Mina’s smile alone could carry her through the longest days, and her laughter was a sound Y/N found herself waiting for, day after day, without ever growing tired of it. It just felt like home. Everything just felt right.
They got married after three years of dating.
After the wedding, it started. The soft bittersweet mornings, drinking coffee while cuddling on the couch, and half-awake kisses in the morning. They lived a content life in Y/N’s penthouse high above the city that never slept.
Everything is perfect for the newlyweds.
Until it wasn’t.
It started small. A lamp in the living room flickered strangely—not like it was broken, but like it was trying to light up in a shape light wasn’t meant to make.
“Honey, did you see that?” Y/N asked Mina as she pointed to the lamp that seemed out of place. “See what, baby?” Mina made her way to her wife and wrapped her hands around Y/N’s neck.
“You look scared, baby. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I’m probably just seeing things.” Y/N shrugged what she saw as Mina just gave a comforting smile, “You can tell me, darling. What is it?”
“The lamp just flickered in a weird way,” Y/N murmured, tucking her face into the curve of Mina’s neck as if it were the safest place in the world.
“It’s probably just the bulb, baby,” Mina whispered gently. “You must be so overworked, darling.” Her fingers moved slowly through Y/N’s hair, unhurried and familiar like it was a quiet promise that everything was okay.
Y/N let out a tired breath, her shoulders finally relaxing as Mina held her closer. The room felt softer then, calmer, as if the night itself had decided to give them peace.
“Come on,” Mina said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Let’s get you to sleep. You still have work tomorrow.”
—
It wasn’t just once.
The buildings through the window seemed wrong and out of place sometimes. The shapes and angles of the structure shifted. The window lights froze mid-flicker. The clouds would sometimes stop moving for a few minutes, and Y/N noticed everything.
The Saturday morning settled quietly over the apartment, and Mina was still curled beneath the blankets, breathing slow and even. Y/N had left the bed hours earlier, long before the sky began to soften with light. Sleep had refused her, no matter how badly she wanted it.
She could not tell whether exhaustion was finally catching up to her or if something deeper was wrong. For days now, strange little glitches had been creeping into her vision, moments that lingered too long in her mind and left her spiraling with thoughts she could not stop thinking of.
By six in the morning, the sun had already climbed high enough to paint the clouds and skyline in baby blue. Y/N stood on the balcony with a cup of coffee warming her hands, staring out at the city. For a moment, everything felt normal. Peaceful, even.
Then the clouds stopped moving. Not slowed, not drifting lazily, but completely still.
Y/N rubbed at her eyes and stepped back inside, not wanting to deal with these hallucinations. She dropped onto the couch and turned on the television, hoping noise might ground her, but the screen was frozen. The image did not move. The sound did not play. When she glanced at the clock, its hands were also locked in place.
Panic crept in quietly, tightening her chest. She hurried to the bedroom to check on Mina, only to find her still asleep, her face relaxed and untouched by whatever was happening. Y/N could not bring herself to wake her. Not when Mina just worked a 12 hour shift yesterday.
She returned to the balcony, needing proof that her mind isn’t making up things. The street below was frozen in time, cars halted mid-motion, like the whole world just stopped. She blinked, hard, and suddenly everything lurched back to life.
The engines of the cars came alive again. The faint noise of honking cut through the air. The clouds began to move across the sky as they always had. The world started moving again like nothing happened at all, leaving Y/N frozen in place, her heart still racing from all the thoughts flooding her mind.
Whatever Y/N had just witnessed vanished as easily as it appeared.
“What the fuck,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely there.
She did not linger on it any longer. Fear had a way of growing when fed.
Y/N slipped back into bed, tucking herself into Mina’s arms, seeking comfort in something real.
“Mmm, baby, you’re awake?” Mina murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
Y/N shushed her gently and pressed a kiss to Mina’s forehead, breathing in her warmth until the world felt steady again. Before another thought could take hold, they both drifted back into sleep.
She closed her eyes.
And opened them to beeping, sterile air, white ceiling.
“What—” her voice cracked. “Where am I?”
The nurse gasped. “Doctor! She’s awake again!”
“Again? What? Where’s Mina? Where’s my wife?”
The door opened, as if it was cued, revealing the same woman who Y/N spent three years of her life with. With the same bun, wearing the same scrubs, holding the same clipboard. But something was far too different.
“Ms. Y/N,” Dr. Myoui said softly.
“You’ve finally woken up from your coma.”
Y/N’s breath caught. “...coma?”
“After three years.”
Y/N’s entire world dropped out from under her.
Dr. Myoui slowly put down her clipboard. “Your friends are on their way.”
“You’re my wife…” Y/N whispered, voice cracking, pleading. Dr. Myoui stared at her for a long moment.
“I’m not your wife, Y/N.”
Y/N shook her head violently. “No, no, no…”
“We got married and we had a baby!”
Dr. Myoui’s expression softened painfully. She sat on the bed and held Y/N’s trembling hand.
“Your brain created a world to protect you while you were unconscious,” she said quietly. “Dreams feel real, especially long-term ones. But they were still dreams.”
Y/N stared at her, tears pooling. “No… no, it wasn’t a dream. I felt you. I loved you. You— you loved me back.”
Mina inhaled sharply, her voice softening. “Tell me what happened.”
“I lived a whole life with you,” Y/N whispered, shaking. “I married you. We were going to raise a child together.”
“You were mine.”
Silence.
Mina’s eyes glimmered with an emotion she immediately tried to hide. Sorrow.
The door burst open, revealing Sana sobbing, Nayeon yelling, Momo sniffling aggressively. They surrounded Y/N in a blur of noise and tears.
Behind them, Dr. Myoui quietly stepped back.
But before leaving, she looked at Y/N again. A look so gentle it shattered something inside. And she whispered, “Maybe in another world.”
Y/N’s heart broke again. Because for her, that world was real.
And for a brief moment, she swore she saw the lights in the hospital room flicker just like the glitching lamp in her dream-home penthouse.
Maybe the worlds weren’t as separate as everyone believed.
—
The next morning, Dr. Mina Myoui walked in again.
Y/N’s heart still betrayed her. It always did whenever she saw Mina.
“Good morning.” Mina smiled softly. “How’s the head?”
“Confused,” Y/N admitted. “Very… confused.”
Mina nodded, pulling up a chair. “That’s normal after a coma,” she said. “Dreams can be vivid. Sometimes the brain fills in empty space with… comfort.”
Comfort. What a painfully insufficient word for the world Y/N had lived in.
“You remember a lot,” Mina added gently. “That’s rare.”
“I remember everything.” Y/N swallowed. “Your laugh. Our kitchen. The sound our baby made when she sneezed. I remember… your warmth.”
Mina froze. For one rare moment, the professional doctor mask slipped—revealing something tender and raw. “That wasn’t real, Y/N,” she said, but her voice trembled just slightly.
“I know,” Y/N whispered. But she didn’t. Not in the ways that mattered.
Mina stood abruptly, regaining composure. “I’ll check your vitals now.”
As she leaned over, her hand brushed Y/N’s wrist. They locked eyes, and for one impossible heartbeat, the world around them shifted—walls bending like heat haze, the beeping monitor slowing, the light flickering into a warm golden glow. Glowing in that certain glow from a lamp Y/N recognized.
The living room lamp. The distorted one. The glitching one.
“Doctor?” a nurse said from the door, breaking the moment. Mina stepped back like she had been burned.
“Everything’s fine,” she said quickly, exiting before Y/N could speak. But as she left, Y/N caught something on Mina’s face.
Recognition.
—
Everything was normal, but only on the surface. Because every night, Y/N saw it.
Her penthouse flickering into view in the corner of her eye. Mina’s wedding band glinting on her finger for a split second. A baby’s cry echoing faintly before disappearing.
And in the darkest hours, when the hospital halls were quiet… she heard Mina’s voice. Not the doctor, but the wife.
“I miss you.”
Y/N sat upright, heart pounding. “Mina?”
Silence.
Then, her IV bag glitched, the liquid freezing mid-drip before flowing again.
It was like something, or someone, was trying to get a hold of her.
—
The day Y/N was discharged from the hospital, everything just felt wrong.
Her friends drove her home. Nayeon was lecturing her for twenty minutes straight, with Sana holding her hand like she was scared Y/N would disappear, and Momo crying in the corner of the car like a malfunctioning water fountain.
“You’re not allowed to almost die again,” Momo sniffled. “That was traumatic for me.”
“For you?” Y/N blinked. “I was the one who—”
“Yeah but I had to cry in public!” Momo cut her off, dramatic as always.
“Are you going to be fine, Y/N?” Sana asked, skidding closer to Y/N. “Are you sure you don’t want us to spend the night with you?” She asked once more as Y/N shook her head up and down.
“I appreciate you girls, but I still really need to think. Three years is no joke.”
The company of the girls was comforting, familiar, grounding. Yet something still felt off.
The moment they dropped her off at her apartment, the world grew quiet again. Her apartment was neat and fine, considering it had remained untouched for three years. And that unsettled her more than if it had been haunted.
The first night back home is the hardest.
Y/N’s apartment feels too quiet, like it was holding its breath around her.
She wakes up twice thinking she’s supposed to hear someone brushing their teeth in the master bathroom, humming a song off-key.
Someone who never existed here.
Y/N sits on the edge of her bed, pressing her palms to her eyes until the world blurs into black. Everything hurts in that strangely dull way a healing wound does.
She whispers into the dark. “Why did it feel so real?”
Something hums like it was a reply. There was a soft vibration in her chest—a shiver, almost like a memory trying to open a door.
“It was just a dream.” Y/N breathes in, convincing herself that it was never real.
Y/N repeats it until the words feel like someone else’s.
—
Y/N returns for a follow-up with Dr. Myoui.
Mina looks different today. Or maybe Y/N’s seeing her with the eyes of someone who remembers a life that didn’t happen—someone who remembers counting the moles in her face, tracing them with her thumb while she slept.
“Y/N,” Mina says, lips curving, warm but also cautious. “How are you feeling?”
Y/N shrugs, eyes dropping to her hands. “Better, physically.”
“Emotionally?” she asks, pulling out a stool and sitting closer, the exact distance Y/N’s imaginary wife used to sit when checking her pulse just to touch her.
“Different,” Y/N answered quietly, Mina’s gaze lingering on Y/N too long.
“Can I ask you something?” Y/N said suddenly.
“Anything.”
“Have you ever had a dream so real you wake up grieving it?” Mina’s breath hitched, barely, but Y/N heard it.
She turns her head away as if to mask it. “I… suppose that can happen, after trauma.”
Y/N shook her head. “No, that’s not what I mean.”
Mina blinks slowly, then tilts her head. “I had a dream,” she says quietly, almost to herself, “last week. About someone I—” Mina stops, swallowing hard. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Say it,”
Mina studies Y/N’s face. Every line. Every feature. Then, in a whisper so thin it could shatter. “It felt like I was married.”
Y/N’s lungs forget how to work.
“To who?” Y/N asked, even though she already knew the answer.
Mina looks away, “I’ve never seen her before,” she says. “But she felt… familiar. Like I’d known her for years. Like she kept saying my name like it was a promise.”
“Do you remember what she looked like?” Y/N asked, her voice barely steady.
Mina’s lips part, just slightly, before she answers. “She had your eyes.”
“Anyway, I’ve been… looking into your case,” Mina said slowly. “Your brain activity during the coma was... unusual.”
“In what way?”
Mina hesitated. “Consistent.”
“Consistent?”
“You weren’t dreaming randomly,” she said. “Your scans show long-term neurological patterns. Patterns that resemble…” She searched for the word.
“…memory formation.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop. “Are you saying I lived those three years somewhere?”
“I’m saying,” Mina replied carefully, “your brain behaved like it wasn’t dreaming… but recording.”
“And I think,” Mina added quietly, “I was there too.”
Y/N’s breath hitched. “What do you mean?”
Mina took a shaky breath, the first truly vulnerable thing Y/N had ever seen her do. “Because sometimes,” Mina said, her voice low, “I feel like I remember things I shouldn’t.”
Mina looked down at her hands. “I had a dream yesterday,” she whispered. “I was in a penthouse. You were laughing, carrying a baby.”
“Carrying a baby that was… calling for me.”
“That wasn’t a dream,” Y/N whispered. “That was our life.”
Mina looked up, and spoke with a trembling voice. “Y/N, why do I feel like I’m losing something I never had?”
Y/N reached for her hand instinctively. But when their fingers touched, the room glitched in a flash.
For one impossible second, the hospital office dissolved. The table was replaced by their shared silk satin sheets, the walls replaced by the glass windows overlooking the city, the cold television replaced by the warmth of their child’s crib.
Mina gasped. “Y/N—”
But the moment snapped like a rubber band, reality slamming back into place. The room was normal again.
“What was that?” Mina whispered, staring at Y/N while breathing hard, her dark brown eyes wide in shock and fear.
Y/N squeezed her hand. “You saw that too?”
Later that night, Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, both her hands on the edge of the sink, looking at herself as if it would prevent her from going crazy.
The mirror rippled.
It wasn’t a hallucination, and definitely not a trick of light. It rippled once, just like the way water does after a pebble breaks its surface. Y/N blinked at the sight, and her reflection blinked a half-second too late.
Y/N jerked backward, her heart choking her ribs.
It wasn’t enough to be terrifying, but just enough to be wrong.
“Okay,” Y/N whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m calling a priest.”
Y/N tries to laugh, but instead her throat tightens. “I wish I could’ve just stayed there.”
The lights buzz once overhead.
Then, there was a reply—not verbal, not visual, but through the pulses in the air. Despite having poor air circulation in her bathroom, Y/N felt air from behind. It felt soft as if someone was breathing behind her.
“You’re not supposed to choose yet.”
Y/N spun around, but there was no one.
The next morning, everything around Y/N feels thinner. Instead of her feeling light, she felt like something was weighing her down.
Who wouldn’t feel all the heaviness when you try to live in a body that remembers things you never lived through?
Y/N used all of her strength to get out of bed and went straight to the kitchen to make tea, trying to calm her breathing and those thoughts that were drowning her out.
The kettle then whistles—whistling in a ringing, shrill note.
The kettle continued to whistle, although for a moment, it was suddenly harmonizing with another sound.
Someone humming in the kitchen.
Y/N’s chest tightened, her fingers trembling against the counter. She turned around, but still, there was no one there.
“I need to see a therapist.” Y/N sighed her thoughts out loud, both of her hands running down her face.
Y/N’s eyes sting. Not from the smoke coming out of the kettle, but because she keeps on yearning for something that was never real in the first place.
Y/N whispered into the empty room.
“I miss you.”
—
Days passed.
Y/N and Mina saw each other more. Not romantically, but out of necessity, fear, and curiosity. The glitches of reality followed them like their own shadows.
There was this one time Mina reached for a pen in her office, and for the briefest second, her hand displayed a wedding ring on her finger that wasn’t there. Y/N also swore she heard a baby cry every time she walked past a certain lamp in her living room.
On a random Friday night, Y/N was scrolling through her gallery, looking at the photos she took years ago before the accident. She was looking at old food photos, random screenshots, and pictures of Y/N and her three best friends whenever they hung out.
Her thumb slid to the next, and it was a new video. It was a video she did not take.
It was a video of their penthouse living room, bathed in warm, honeyed light. Soft yellow curtains drifted like sunlight breathing through the wind, casting gentle shadows that swayed across the walls.
On the couch, Y/N and Mina were cuddled into each other, their limbs tangled in quiet devotion as a horror film flickered before them. In the corner, their newborn slept peacefully in the crib, unbothered by the tension on screen.
A scared Y/N clung to Mina with desperate hands, burying herself against her as if the shadows might spill out of the television and reach for her next. Mina softly laughed, fond of her wife’s silly antics.
“Such a baby.” Mina mumbled out loud and then inched closer to press a lingering kiss on Y/N’s cheek.
Seeing this all on video, Y/N’s breath stuttered. She dropped her phone onto the bed, scrambling backwards until her spine hit the headboard.
“No, no, no—”
Not even a minute later, her phone buzzed.
It was a text from Mina.
Dr. Mina Myoui: Do you see it too?
Y/N’s fingers trembled as she typed back.
Y/N: See what?
There was a long pause.
Dr. Mina Myoui: I just found a picture of us and colorful magnetic letters on my fridge.
Y/N: That’s crazy Mina, what’s happening to us?
She replies almost instantly.
Dr. Mina Myoui: I don’t know, but I think it’s trying to tell us something. I’m scared, Y/N.
Something cracks open in Y/N’s chest, because she realized that this isn’t about a dream anymore. This isn’t memory loss. This isn’t confusion.
This is the seeping of grief for a life they lived somewhere else, somewhere unknown. It is a life that refuses to stay gone.
—
One night, an exhausted and messy Mina came over to Y/N’s apartment, clutching a manila folder filled with results and notes.
“Okay,” she said, dropping the folder on the table, “I’ve been testing a theory.”
“You have a theory?”
“I always have theories,” Mina said, brushing her bangs back. “I just don’t always have evidence. But now I might.” She flipped open a page.
“What… is that?”
“Your brain scans from when you were in the coma.” Mina pointed. “This pattern shouldn’t exist.”
“I don’t understand—”
“It looks like a memory loop.” Mina whispered. “It looks like stable repetition, not just random dreaming. Your brain was forming memories like you were truly experiencing it.”
“Like… I was living a real life.” Y/N swallowed.
Mina nodded, “But here’s what scares me,” she starts softly. “This—” she pointed again, “is my brain scan from yesterday.”
The pattern looked the same.
“You’re remembering it too,” Y/N whispered, her blood running cold.
“My brain is showing that I’m remembering it like a memory, but that’s not possible.” Mina said as she nervously nodded. “It breaks every rule of neurology. Every rule of the physical world.”
“Mina,” Y/N whispered, “the physical world has been glitching around us for weeks. I think the rules broke before we did.”
Mina laughed shakily. “How comforting.”
Then the room flickered again, this time, it was stronger. Mina grabbed Y/N’s arm while the latter clutched the table with all her might.
For one terrifying, beautiful moment, they were back in the penthouse.
There were wedding photos hung on the wall, wine glasses on the coffee table, and baby toys scattered on the floor.
This was their life and home. The world that they unknowingly and uncontrollably lost.
Mina’s breath hitched.
—
It has been a week since they last met.
Y/N was just getting ready for bed when she heard her phone ring.
It was Mina.
Y/N hesitated before picking up, “Hey.”
There’s a long exhale from the other end. “Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice trembling like she’s been thinking of calling for hours. “Can we talk? In person?”
“Sure. What’s wrong?”
“I keep remembering things,” she whispers, “things that I’ve never experienced.”
Y/N’s stomach drops. “Like what?”
“Like I’ve lived for years with a wife and daughter waiting at home.”
Y/N closed her eyes because her heart can’t hold everything happening inside it anymore. “Where are you?”
“I’m outside,” Mina admits breathlessly. “I know I shouldn’t be, it’s unprofessional, but I had to see you.”
Y/N walked to her apartment’s window, glancing right outside. Then, there she was, standing on the sidewalk, looking up at the apartment building. Her eyes were glistening, her breath fogging in the night air.
Y/N was down the stairs before she could even think.
Mina sat closer to Y/N this time, close enough that both of their knees were brushing. Close enough for Y/N to feel that Mina was also trembling.
Mina reaches into her pocket and pulls out something small.
Y/N’s wedding ring.
Y/N felt her knees instantly get weak.
“I found it on my nightstand this morning,” Mina whispers. “I woke up crying.”
Mina places the ring gently in her palm, and the moment the metal touches Y/N’s skin, the world flickered once again.
It was harder this time. It felt brighter and more vivid. It felt like two realities were forcing themselves to forge together.
Y/N blinked, then saw her. Not the doctor, but the wife. Mina was touching Y/N’s cheek, her eyes soft and dilated with years of loving her. Y/N lifted her hand, gently resting it over Mina’s as it traced the softness of her cheek. Then, reality flickered once again, showing the real Mina—the one who was trembling and terrified.
Mina leaned forward and pressed her cheek to Y/N’s, whispering: “If another universe loved you first, then I’ll spend this one learning how.”
The both of them were now stuck between two worlds and two identities. But there is only supposed to be one truth.
—
Who would’ve known that both worlds were about to fully collide on a random Tuesday night?
There was a soft knock on Y/N’s bedroom door. She froze.
Y/N was all alone in her apartment.
Y/N’s heart stutters in her chest before asking, her voice wavering, “Who are you?”
There was no reply other than the silence.
Then, the door knob slowly turned. It was gentle, like someone memorized how it feels to open Y/N’s door without waking her.
The door opens, and there she is.
The wife.
Mina looks exactly like she did on their wedding day—her luscious long hair cascading over one shoulder, a soft glow around her. She looks beautiful.
But her eyes. God, her eyes destroyed Y/N.
They were red, wet, and broken.
“Y/N, I missed you…” Mina whispers her name, as if it were a prayer and punishment all at once.
And Y/N collapses inside. She stumbled backward, her breath shaking. “Mina—”
“I can’t— you’re not—”
Mina rushes forward and holds Y/N’s face with trembling hands. Feeling the warmth from Mina's palms made it feel real. It was finally real this time.
“Don’t say it,” she whispers. “Don’t tell me I’m not real.”
Tears spill down Y/N’s cheeks instantly.
Because she can’t say it. Because every cell in her body remembers Mina. Deeply, wrongly, and beautifully.
Mina presses her forehead against Y/N’s. “You left,” she murmurs, voice shattering into a thousand tiny pieces, “and I looked everywhere for you. I tore the house apart. I screamed until my voice disappeared. I slept on the floor because your pillow still smelled like you.”
Y/N’s knees went weak.
“I thought—” Mina swallows harshly, “I thought you died.”
Y/N started sobbing so hard, as she shook her head desperately. “I didn’t leave you,” she whispered back. “I swear, Mina, I didn’t want to.”
“You promised me forever.”
“I know—”
“You promised me a life.”
“I know—”
“You gave me a child,” Mina chokes out, collapsing into her wife, “and you didn’t even get to watch her grow.”
Mina pulls something from her pocket.
It was a small fabric. Their daughter’s baby sock.
Y/N’s whole body went still.
Mina catches her before she hits the floor, holding Y/N crushed against her chest as tears fall onto her hair.
“She keeps looking at the door waiting for you.” Mina whispers, a sob tearing through her.
Y/N broke. There’s no more dignity, no more composure, and no more strength left in her bones.
Because how can you remain standing when a life you loved is calling you home?
Before Y/N could even utter a response, there was a voice behind her.
“…Y/N?”
Y/N turned to see the real Mina standing in the doorway.
Now, there were two of them. Two Minas, two worlds, and two futures all combined. And both were looking at Y/N like she was the axis their world spins on.
Mina, the real one, entered the unit and walked towards the two. Her voice shakes, but she forces the words out.
“Don’t go.”
Y/N’s dream-wife pulled her closer, gripping her shirt desperately. “No baby, come home.”
Mina’s breath hitches, “You said I’m her too,” she whispers. “You said you saw me in her. Let me learn how to love you the way she did.”
The dream-wife clutched Y/N’s hands tight, her tears falling endlessly. “Baby, we already have a life—a home, a daughter, a family. Don’t abandon us.”
The real Mina moves closer, eyes locked on Y/N’s. “I don’t have your memories,” she says softly, “but I have your heart right now. And I’m terrified, Y/N.”
“Because I don’t know how to compete with a version of myself who already had everything with you.”
Y/N shook her head violently, “It’s not a competition—”
Mina cuts you off with a shattered whisper, “Then choose me because I’m here and alive. Because I’m real in this world.”
“Or choose me because you already loved me once.”
Y/N felt like her heart was being cracked open right then and there.
Two hands are holding her—one from the world she lived in by accident, and one from the world she lived in by destiny. And Y/N is the fault line splitting them apart.
Both of them whisper Y/N’s name at the same time. They were both breaking, reaching, and yearning for Y/N.
And Y/N thought about it deeply, understanding the cruelty of deciding. No matter who she chooses, she will break someone who wears the same face of the one she truly loves.
Y/N’s chest tightens until she can barely breathe. She gathered the strength to lift her head, glancing at both of the women.
With her voice trembling, barely a breath, she finally spoke. “I know who I choose.”
Both of them froze as Y/N closed her eyes and exhaled deeply.
Y/N’s breath catches in her throat.
The dream-wife was holding Y/N’s hand tightly like she’s praying to a god she doesn’t believe in. The real Mina was standing behind Y/N, her hand gripping the wall, trying not to fall apart.
Both women were waiting for what Y/N was going to say.
Y/N inhaled slowly, her voice wavering when she spoke. “…Mina.”
Both looked up, but Y/N’s eyes found the one who wore her ring.
The one who lived the years Y/N remembered in her bones. The one whose lips said “I do” in a world stitched together by love and impossible luck.
Her wife. Her dream-wife.
Y/N lifted her hand to Mina’s cheek, pressing her tears into her palm. “I choose you.”
The wife broke down, her whole body collapsing forward in relief, in grief, in unbearable, unconditional love. Mina wraps her arms around Y/N, pulling her wife into her chest like she’s afraid she’ll disappear again.
The real Mina gasped quietly. It was a punch, a hard blow towards her heart. But she doesn’t fight, she doesn’t scream, she doesn’t beg. Mina just covers her mouth and lets the tears fall silently through her fingers.
Because she understands. She really does.
But it still destroys her.
Y/N whispered against her wife’s shoulder, “I’m coming home.”
Mina sobs so hard it shakes both of you, “Please,” she whispers into your hair. “Please hurry.”
“She keeps asking for you. Every morning. Every night. I didn’t know how to tell her you were gone.”
Y/N clutched her tighter, pressing a kiss onto her lips. “I won’t leave you again,”
And for the first time since waking in the hospital, Y/N’s heart feels… whole. A little broken and bruised, but whole.
Y/N’s wife cupped her cheeks, “Let’s go,” she whispers. “Come home with me.”
Y/N nodded, stepping toward her.
Both of their fingers lace together—perfectly, instinctively, as if they were exactly made for each other.
Then, the world around the both of them began to warp.
The edges blurred, the colors bled, and the reality folded inward, welcoming Y/N back.
Mina, the wife, smiled through her tears. “You’re coming back,” she breathes. “You’re coming—”
Her voice cuts out.
The world froze, as if someone pressed pause on existence.
Y/N’s hand was still tangled with hers, but Mina was no longer moving. Mina’s face is frozen mid-smile, mid-hope, and mid-salvation.
Y/N’s gaze faltered, her confusion blooming softly, as that same familiar quiet and lingering ache found its way back into her heart. “Mina?”
No response.
Y/N turned around, to see that the real Mina was watching, trembling, and terrified but not frozen.
Y/N lifted her free hand, trying to touch her wife who was frozen in time.
Her fingers passed through her wife’s hair. Not through the strands, but through the entire shape of her. It passed through like she was never meant to be held in this world.
Y/N’s breath stops. “Mina…?”
“No. No, no, please—”
The dream-wife flickered. Once. Twice.
Light trailing around her like a dissolving film. Y/N collapses to her knees, still gripping her fading hand.
“No!” She blurs again.
Mina’s lips move silently, Y/N couldn’t hear her, but she can read it.
“Come home.”
Tears flooded Y/N’s eyes until she could barely see. “Take me with you!” she screamed. “Please—”
“Please, take me—!”
The reality finally cracked, the light burst in a bright luminescence.
In a short moment, her hand falls right through Y/N’s. And then she is gone. Completely.
The room went silent.
Y/N was kneeling on the floor, her hands empty with her breath shaking violently.
The real Mina ran to Y/N immediately, dropping down beside her. Mina pulled Y/N into her arms as she collapsed forward with a broken sob that barely resembled a human.
Mina held Y/N’s head to her chest, stroking her hair as the woman completely broke and fell apart in her lap.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, voice trembling. “I’ve got you. I’m here, baby.”
“Why did the universe take her away?”
“Because she wasn’t meant to stay and you weren’t meant to leave.” Mina whispers, her tears falling into Y/N’s hair.
Y/N cried for a long time—for the wife who waited, for their daughter who was waiting for her, for the home that was one world out of reach, and for the promises she couldn’t fulfill.
Y/N cried in the hands of the one she didn’t choose.
Mina cups Y/N’s face gently, forcing her to meet her red swollen eyes.
“Look at me,” she whispers. “You didn’t lose her. You lived with her, you loved her. And she loved you enough to let you go.”
Y/N collapsed against her, sobbing harder this time. Mina’s voice cracks as she holds the trembling woman, “I’m here, baby.”
“I have no intention to replace her, but let me stay with you until we learn how to love each other.”
And for the first time, Y/N let her.
Because she didn’t choose her out of love, and yet Mina was still here, cradling Y/N in her arms.
And somewhere out there, another woman named Mina kisses her daughter goodnight and calls out her wife’s name into the dark.