Ayla stood there with an unreadable expression.
"I just wanted to make sure you're really not sick."
Evan leaned one hand against the doorframe, looking at her.
"I'm fine, Ayla."
Ayla sighed.
"If you're fine, then why did you suddenly open a mutual fund for Raka without telling anyone? Why use words like you—"
Evan cut her off.
"I just don't want Raka to lack anything."
Ayla shook her head.
"That's a good reason. But the way you said it… Evan, if you're sick, if you're hiding something, it's better to be honest."
Evan was silent for a moment. Then, in a calmer voice, he said,
"I'm going for a check-up tomorrow."
Ayla looked at him.
"Seriously?"
Evan nodded.
"Dad asked me to. Mom's suspicious too. So yeah… just to ease their minds."
Ayla let out a long breath. For the first time that day, she seemed to believe him.
"Good," she finally said. "You need that."
Evan gave a faint smile.
"You're worried too?"
Ayla scoffed.
"Not my business." But then she added, "But if something happened to you, Raka would lose someone. And even if I don't want to admit it, I don't want that either."
Evan looked at her for a long moment before finally saying,
"Thank you."
Ayla just nodded, then turned around.
"Let me know the results tomorrow."
And with that, she left.
Evan watched her walk down the hallway until she disappeared. Then, with a deep breath, he closed the door.
Tomorrow, everything would be clear.
—
Setting: Hospital
That morning, Evan arrived at the hospital earlier than his scheduled appointment. He came alone, without telling anyone—not even his parents. No need for drama or unnecessary worry. After all, he felt healthy.
After registering at the front desk, a nurse guided Evan to the examination room.
"Full medical check-up, Mr. Evan?"
Evan nodded.
"Yes. Everything included in the package."
The nurse smiled.
"Alright, please go to the blood collection room first."
Evan followed the directions and sat in the patient's chair. A lab technician came in, confirmed his identity, and skillfully drew his blood.
"Do you donate blood often?" the technician asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Evan shrugged.
"I used to."
After the blood draw, he went through a series of tests—urine test, ECG, abdominal ultrasound, chest X-ray, even a treadmill test. Everything went smoothly, although the doctor gave him a curious look when seeing how stable his blood pressure was despite just finishing a run.
"Do you exercise regularly?" the doctor asked during the consultation.
"Sometimes," Evan replied casually.
The doctor jotted something down.
"Overall, you look in good shape. But let's wait for the full lab results. They usually come out in two days."
Evan nodded.
"Can I pick them up myself?"
"Of course. Or if you prefer, we can email them to you for faster access."
"Alright," said Evan.
After the check-up was done, he walked out of the hospital feeling relieved—even though a big question still lingered in his mind.
Will I finally start aging this year?
The answer would probably come with the results.
—
Two days later
Evan received an email from the hospital. Calmly, he opened the attachment containing the full results of his medical check-up. His eyes scanned through the numbers and medical terms, most of which were within normal range.
But then, one part made him stop.
Biological age: 25 years.
Cellular aging rate: Stable, no signs of significant aging compared to previous tests.
Evan let out a long sigh. Again.
This was the third time a medical test confirmed that his body wasn't aging like a normal human. All his organs, metabolic condition, even his blood profile—identical to when he was 25, as if time hadn't touched him.
He slowly closed his laptop, then looked at his reflection in the apartment window.
"How long will I stay like this?"
—
Evan's father read the email with a sigh of relief. At least his worst fear—that Evan was seriously ill—could be set aside.
Don't worry, Dad.
That short message seemed to show that Evan was fine—or at least wanted to be seen that way.
Evan's father leaned back in his office chair. Even though the medical results were clean, something still nagged at him. Why did Ayla think Evan was sick?
He closed the email, but his mind kept working. Evan might be healthy physically, but something had changed in his son—something he still couldn't fully understand.
—
Setting: A café near Raka's school
Evan waited at a table near the window, glancing at his watch. Today, Ayla had finally allowed him to spend a whole day with Raka.
Soon, the little boy appeared with small steps, wearing his school uniform and carrying a backpack that looked bigger than him.
"Papa Evan!" he called out.
Evan's heart skipped a beat. Raka usually only called him "Uncle Evan" or just "Evan." This was the first time he called him Papa.
He smiled, stood up, and crouched to meet Raka at eye level.
"Hungry?"
Raka nodded.
"Super hungry!"
They picked their food, and Evan let Raka choose on his own.
When the food arrived, Evan found himself watching as Raka ate enthusiastically. The boy was just like him when he was little—the way he ate, the habit of blowing on hot food, even the way he swung his legs under the table.
"Eat slowly." Evan handed him a tissue when sauce smeared the corner of Raka's mouth.
Raka obeyed. Then, while chewing, he asked,
"Do you like eating here, Papa Evan?"
Evan paused for a moment before nodding.
"I used to come here a lot."
Back then, he used to come here with his friends, spending late nights with some bad habits. But now, he sat here with his child.
"Then let's come here again next time, okay?" Raka said innocently.
Evan smiled. A warmth spread in his chest.
"Yeah. Let's eat here again."
At that moment, Evan realized one thing—he truly loved this child.
—
Setting: Evan's apartment, night
Evan sat on the couch with his arms crossed, staring at his phone screen showing a photo of Raka he had taken earlier that day. The boy was laughing, mouth a little messy with sauce, but his eyes were shining with joy.
Evan let out a long breath.
He had really fallen for this kid.
At first, all of this felt like a massive, hard-to-accept surprise. Imagine—someone suddenly shows up and tells you you have a child—even though you don't even remember knowing the mother. But now?
Raka wasn't just his biological child. Raka was a part of him he never knew existed.
Evan felt something he had never felt before—a desire to protect, to make sure Raka was always happy, to be someone that boy could be proud of.
A small smile formed on his lips.
Almost unconsciously, he opened his investment app. He checked the mutual fund he had set up in Raka's name. The amount wasn't much yet, but he wanted to keep adding to it.
He wanted to make sure Raka had a secure future.
For the first time in his life, Evan wasn't just thinking about himself.
—
Setting: Evan's apartment, later that night
Evan closed the investment app and set his phone on the table. He leaned his head back on the couch, eyes on the ceiling, thoughts spinning.
In all the chaos brought by this curse—the shifting identity, the feeling of life being an endless loop—there was one thing he was grateful for: Raka.
Without this curse, he would have never known Raka existed. Never known that there was a little boy out there who shared his face, his expressions, even the way he combed his hair.
Maybe if he wasn't stuck in this 25-year-old body, he would've just lived life as usual—still the old Evan who only cared about himself.
But now?
Now he knew what it felt like to look at someone and think, I want him to be happy. I want him to grow up well. I want him to have a better life than I did.
Evan smiled faintly.
Maybe, for the first time since this curse began, he didn't feel completely alone.