Ovan is a complete mystery to him, he knows that much, at least. Since the first day he logged into this server, something about the older character had caught him and had yet to leave him alone. Something had reached out to him through the wires and data, past the virtual reality that was The World and it had made these feelings become so... real. He'd been trampled upon, PKed, gotten into things beyond his imagination for merely being helped by Ovan. However, he hadn't the single thought to blame the enigma for any of it. If he ever had thoughts of leaving, of just shutting down the game and canceling his account, he would always hear that voice. It was deep and rumbling and he could almost feel it, telling him sternly, yet gently, to become stronger. All thoughts of abandoning The World would vanish in that unexplainable wave of euphoria following every word of praise giving to him by that man.

He has no right to be jealous of her, he knows he shouldn't, but the feelings won't just go away like he's used to them doing. They pick at his resolve whenever he isn't actively concentrating on it, inciting envy when he shouldn't be feeling it. She's going to see Ovan again, he can always tell when she is. His eyes narrow and his mouth twitches into a frown and he hates it, how easily he is controlled by a person-- a man, no less-- that he hasn't even spoken to for more than fleeting moments at a time. Once she's gone, they get worse. He can't just sit still, knowing that every day she's seeing him, when Ovan won't even see any of their guild every week. So he moves. He gets up, goes hunting in a dungeon more difficult than he should be able to handle, comes back to town too exhausted to be jealous, and looks out over the small river from the bridge. Meet Ovan's expectations, she'd said to him once. He reminisces about their conversations concerning Ovan because, sometimes, he can see her eyes taking on a different shade of green. He refuses to consider why it makes him so relieved.

There are questions he wants to ask, but he knows he isn't entitled to their answers. He would seldom admit to even thinking most of these things, much less actually ask them. What's he sound like, is he anything like his character model, does he wear glasses, what's he like, how old is he, everything. When he really thinks about it long enough, it doesn't seem so trivial. His emotions aren't anywhere near out of whack, but around Ovan they become so unstable that it unnerves him. It's perfectly reasonable for him to want to know about who can cause such a change in him. But when his mind wanders, he finds himself wondering what his real name is, where he lives and deep down he wants to see him. He'd wants to hear that voice clear and pure on his ears, not just through a pair of headphones. He'd like to wrap his arms around his waist, to breathe in his scent and memorize every detail of his person. Then, Haseo thinks, he could be satisfied with his life.

Haseo knows that he's somehow lost a part of himself to Ovan that he's never going to get back.

What he doesn't know is how it happened.