Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Seulgi POV

I was late. Again.

The hand on the clock sticking out of the wall above the school entrance was mercilessly ticking forward, like the blade of a knife. I swore through my teeth, jumped over three steps, and pushed the door open with a dull thud. The hallway was already empty - the bell had rung a few minutes ago.

Perfect.
Another warning.

Gripping the straps of my backpack, I walked across the gleaming floor like it was ice. The sound of my footsteps bounced off the walls like a traitorous signal: here she is, your headache, Seulgi - queen of fights and broken noses.

I was walking fast, but I still felt a stare - sharp, like a needle in the neck. I turned my head and, of course, saw her.

Yoo Jaeyi.
Student council president.
The "Ice Queen."

She stood by the teacher's lounge door like a marble statue. Long raven-black hair fell perfectly onto her shoulders, smooth and flawless. Her uniform was ironed, her name tag shone. Her face - as always - without a single emotion.

- Eight minutes, - she said coldly. - You're breaking the regulations again.

I stopped. The cold in Jaeyi's gaze left no room for jokes. She always looked at you like you'd already disappointed her before you even opened your mouth.

- Glad to know you track my life by the minute, - I replied with a crooked smirk. - Want to count my heartbeats too?

- I want you to stop pretending the rules don't apply to you.

She stepped closer. Even her steps were precise - like she trained herself to walk in a straight line.

- Final warning. Next time - suspension from extracurriculars.

- I don't have any, - i shot back.
Unless you count decking jerks when they mess with the little ones.

For a moment, I noticed her fingers tense slightly, like she wanted to say something but didn't let herself.

- That's not an excuse, - she said, as if reading from a script. - You're not the police. And not a hero. You're just-

- What? - I stepped toward her. - An orphan? A problem? A blot on your perfect school records?

Silence.

She didn't respond. But she didn't look away either. Just stared at me. For a long time. As if reading something.

How many layers does that mask have, Jaeyi?
How much pain hides under that perfect shell?

- Go to class, - she said finally. - The teacher already marked you absent.

- Of course, President. Always a pleasure.

I walked past her, but I could still feel her gaze on my back. Cold, stern... and yet - just slightly trembling, like glass that's just started to crack.

*

After School

- You seriously clashed with her again? - Yeri looked at me over her strawberry smoothie. Her light chestnut hair shimmered under the lights of the school café.

- I didn't clash with her. We just... exchanged barbs.

- Seulgi. She's your mortal enemy.

-No. She's my headache, not an enemy.

Yeri rolled her eyes and laughed.
- Do you even see how you react to her? You're ready to crash into a wall just to throw a snarky comment her way. This isn't irritation anymore. It's a fetish, girl.

I snorted. - Don't start.

- Uh-huh. Sure. And when you stared at her for three straight minutes in class today, you thought we all went blind.

- Yeri...

- Don't worry. I'm all for it. Your kids will be disciplined - and dangerous.

I laughed. Damn, sometimes she really knew how to make me forget all the crap. We were sitting by the window. Outside, evening Seoul drifted in orange light.
Cars, people, Chaehwa High - where life felt like both a theater and a cage.

- She just pisses me off, - i said, sipping my water. - She looks at me like i'm dirt on her shoe. Not even a person.

- Maybe she doesn't know how to be any other way. You know who her father is?

- Some head doctor or something?

- Not something. He founded 'J' Clinic. Rich, cold. Rumor is, if you cough in his house, he'll throw you out for being weak.

- So she grew up in a freezer.

- Yeah, but... - Yeri fell silent.
She had a friend - Kyeong. That girl was nasty, sure, but you could tell they were both lonely.

I quietly chewed on my straw. Somewhere deep in my chest - a slight burning. Unfamiliar.
Probably just irritation.
Of course, irritation.

Chapter Text

Woo Seulgi

I woke up to the sound of rain.
At first, I didn’t know where I was. The sheets stuck to my legs, the air was cold, and the raindrops — they hit the roof of the dorm like the sky was trying to knock on something deep inside me. I sat up, yawning, ran a hand across my face. The gray outside cut into my eyes.

The clock showed it was way too early. Even the birds hadn’t dared to begin their usual arias yet.
Sometimes my body wakes me before it needs to. It still remembers...

It remembers the orphanage, where no one came to say, “Time to get up.”

Where if you didn’t get up yourself — you didn’t eat.

Where silence didn’t mean peace, but indifference.

Where hunger burned you from the inside out — not the kind in your stomach, but the other kind. Deeper.

Now I have food. A roof. A bed. Yeri.
But the hunger remains.
Only now, it doesn’t live in the body.
It lives in the soul.

---

**At school**

The classroom was still almost empty. The light in it felt especially white — too sterile. Like in a hospital. I sat by the window, chin resting on my hand, when Yeri sat down next to me. She did it with such grace, like a frame from a shampoo commercial: her hair spilled out, catching the light as it danced.

– You got here earlier than the teachers, –  she noted, squinting at me with mischief.

– Seulgi, are you sure you didn’t mix up your schedule? We’re not sleeping over at school tonight, you know.

I gave a short snort, barely smiling.

– Couldn’t sleep.

– Oh yeah? So what were you doing?

– Counting raindrops on the windowsill,–  I answered. – And thinking about how annoying Yoo Jaeyi is.

Yeri snorted — not meanly, but like a friend who knows you better than you know yourself.

– Seulgi, you do realize your forehead already says ‘Jaeyi’ carved into it? – she said, craning her neck to look at me. – All that’s left is to draw a little heart around it and stamp it with ‘obsessed.’

I turned away toward the window.

Outside, the sky tightened with heavy clouds, like the world itself was breathing through clenched teeth. Gray and low — like her eyes.
Especially when she looks at you like you’re a mistake in her equation.

– Do you even know where her mask comes from? – Yeri suddenly lowered her voice, as if someone outside the window could hear. – I heard... something.

I slowly turned my head.

– They say when she was younger, her father made her study until two in the morning. Can you imagine? No room for tears, under shouting. If she cried — he punished her. If she smiled — he told her that was weakness.

– He... – I swallowed. – He never smiled at her?

– Not once, – Yeri said softly. – Not in her whole life.

Something jabbed inside me — like a rusty nail had surfaced from beneath my ribs.

That story... it was too familiar. Too close.

– And her sister?

Yeri sighed and shook her head.

“– enna? They don’t talk anymore. Jenna tried... to be human about it. To hug her. To support her. But Jaeyi pushed her away. Completely. I once saw Jenna crying behind the school, thinking no one was watching.”

I looked away.

My heart tightened. Slowly, but sharply.

So Yoo Jaeyi — she’s not just a mask. She’s armor. A shield.
And she’s not a bitch because she wants to be.
She’s a bitch because someone once convinced her that anything else... hurts more.

---

**Later, in the hallway**

The school corridor was filled with rainlight. The walls gleamed just a bit duller than usual, as if the drops outside had left their fingerprints even on the lamp glass. The air — cool, soaked in moisture and something nervous.

I turned the corner — and of course, ran into her again.

Yoo Jaeyi.

She was standing by the window, one hand resting on the sill, as if she were part of the school’s architecture: strict, upright, cold. Against the rain behind her, her hair looked almost like ink. The damp light carved out her cheekbones, made her seem even less alive — and, somehow, more beautiful in that detachment.

I just wanted to pass by. No words. No stupid arguments.

But she turned.

Our eyes met. Her gaze — direct, sharp, like a sniper’s.

– You came on time today.

I raised a brow, stopped, crossed my arms over my chest.

– You’re keeping tabs on me now?

– I monitor discipline. It’s my duty,– she replied, without blinking.

– Uh-huh. And I guess you’re also a robot.–  I tilted my head. – Do you have a battery inside? Or do you charge yourself with hatred for people like me?

She sighed. Barely. But I caught the movement — like a tired shadow crossed her face.

– Seulgi… – her voice was softer than usual. Not as icy. – I don’t want to argue with you every day.

I froze.
I hadn’t expected that.

– Then stop picking on me, – I said slowly. – I’m not a child. I know what I’m doing.

– You fight.

– I protect, – I shot back.

– There are other ways, in school walls…

I smirked and stepped closer. No more than a meter between us now.

– For you, maybe. You had walls, a dad, a uniform, a shiny badge, a closed door and light. I had fists. And an empty plate. I don’t care about ‘the right way’ if someone’s crying because of bastards. I didn’t have time for rules.

She looked away. Stared at the raindrops sliding down the glass for a long time.

– Everything with you is... fists, – she said quietly. – But what happens if one day you can’t get up after a hit?

I leaned in just slightly, hearing my heart thunder.

– I’ll get up. Always.

And then... she looked at me.

Long and quiet. And for the first time — not like a president. Not like a machine.
Like a person.
Something trembled in her eyes — as if a thin crack had split her perfect mask.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she were about to say something... important.

But — nothing.

Just a turn.

Just footsteps walking away.

And I was left alone in the hallway, surrounded by the whispers of rain and the scent of wet earth.

And somehow, it hurt.
More than any of her scoldings.

---

**Evening, on the rooftop**

I was sitting on the concrete ledge, legs dangling down, watching the wet streets of Seoul.

The rain had stopped, but the sky was still dripping — as if someone were gently, slowly wringing it out. Sparse drops fell on the rooftop, on my shoulders, on my soul.

Yeri came up to me. A bottle of green tea in her hand. She sat beside me, her warm shoulder almost touching mine.

– She watches you, – she said, taking a sip. – In her own way. Coldly. Silently. But she watches.

I nodded, not taking my eyes off the horizon.

– So?

– So. Ice cracks, girl. Even ice doesn’t last forever, Seulgi.

– I don’t know what she fears more — me... or herself.

Yeri snorted.

– And you?

I smirked, looking down at the streets below, where headlights glowed and cars crawled slowly.

– I’m only afraid of one thing — being alone.

Yeri leaned a little closer, and with surprising warmth, said:

– You’re not alone anymore. You’ve got me. You’ve got a roof. You’ve got tea. And...  — she looked down to where a figure in a dark jacket lingered near the gym — – There’s one Kyeong I want to ask out to dinner, but she’s constantly pretending not to care.

I turned and saw Kyeong. She stood as always — off to the side, hands in her pockets, her whole body saying: don’t come closer.
Yeri got up, smiled at me and said:

– I’ll go pretend I just happened to pass by.

– Uh-huh,” I snorted. – Just don’t trip over your own charisma.

Yeri stuck her tongue out at me and ran downstairs.

I watched her walk up to Kyeong, say something to her.
Kyeong rolled her eyes at first, but then — just a little, barely visible — smiled.

Yeri really does know how to get through armor. Even the sharpest kind.

I looked up at the sky again.

And for the first time, I allowed myself to think:
What if I can reach Jaeyi, too?

What if I’m not just a wolf?
What if I’m... also a key?

Chapter Text

Woo Seulgi

I always knew when a fight was coming.

It was almost a physical sensation — like the electric charge in the air before a thunderstorm. The hairs on the back of my neck would stand up. Skin itched beneath my clothes.

The world seemed to breathe differently.
Words grew sharper, tenser.

Laughter — cruel, cutting, teetering on the edge of violence.

Movements — faster, rougher.

Someone bumped into someone — not by accident. Someone stared too long. Someone clenched a fist.
And then there it was — the line. Thin as spring ice.

Most people didn’t notice it. Or pretended not to.

I didn’t.

I always felt it. Always.

Today it started right after the final bell.
A wave of students burst into the courtyard like a torrent from a broken dam.
Voices, backpack zippers, rustling jackets — the usual end-of-day chaos.

But my focus snapped to one spot — the staircase by the main exit.
A dead zone for cameras.

A blind spot teachers rarely checked. A place where the dirt happened.
Where everything that *shouldn’t* happen in school… did. Quietly. Quickly. Brutally.

I heard it before I saw it.

Crying.

Not loud, not hysterical. Soft. Suppressed. Barely audible through the din.
Like a kid trying *not* to cry — and failing anyway.

I froze. My heart thudded hard in my chest.

Slowly, I moved. Through students, ignoring gossip and someone’s cheerful shouting.

The crowd parted reluctantly, with lazy curiosity — someone already had their phone out, another just grinned.

And then I saw him.

A boy. Maybe ten. Eleven at most.
Glasses cracked, one arm held together with tape. His backpack was turned inside out, notebooks and pencil case scattered on the wet concrete.
He stood frozen, fists clenched, trying not to cry — but his eyes were wide with panic.

In front of him — three older boys.
One in a bright red jacket leaned in mockingly. Another chewed gum. The third spun a chain in his hand.

Laughter. Nasty, greasy laughter.
One of them spat right next to the kid’s shoes.

Red Jacket raised his foot — clearly about to kick. Not just a show. A real strike.

Something inside me flared. Hot. Immediate. Like a match catching flame.

I didn’t think. I didn’t analyze.
I just moved forward.

— Hey! — the word ripped from me. Sharp. Loud.

Every head turned.

— Ooooh, — Red Jacket drawled with a grin. — Look who’s here. Seulgi in the flesh. Savior of the weak and wounded. On patrol again?

I stepped closer. Slowly. Never taking my eyes off him.
There was a flicker in his eyes — unease.
And damn, it felt good.

— I didn’t come to save, — I said low. — I came to destroy.
I pointed at the boy:
— If you so much as touch him, I’ll break your nose with the same finger. Got it?

He smirked, but the swagger was fading.

— Seriously? You think you can take all three of us on your own?

I scoffed. Shifted my weight onto my heels.

— I don’t *think.* I *know.*

And I hit him.

My fist connected squarely with his jaw — sharp, practiced. His head snapped back, he staggered.

Movement to the left — second guy lunged at me like a boxer in the ring.
I twisted, slammed my elbow into his ribs. A choked grunt.

Third guy pulled something — a chain? A belt? Didn’t matter.
I kicked his wrist.
He dropped it. Metal clattered against asphalt.

Shouts. Noise. Someone in the crowd yelled: “They’re fighting!” Phones came out.

I moved fast. Instant. Merciless. Not pretty. Not performative. Like an animal. One used to pain. One that knew survival wasn’t a right — but a fight.

I barely felt pain.
Just rhythm. Adrenaline. Instinct.

Then — a voice.

— SEULGI!

It didn’t slice the air — it tore through it.

I turned. And everything inside me froze.

Yoo Jaeyi.

She stood at the edge of the circle, like a statue forgotten by the gods in the middle of a battlefield. But not like always.

Not composed. Not cold. Not stern.

Shaken.

Eyes wide, fingers trembling, clenched into fists.
And in her gaze… fear? Horror? No. Pain.

— What are you… — she stepped forward, her voice cracking — What are you doing?!

I didn’t get the chance to answer.

From the side — a blow. One of the boys, back on his feet, slammed into my ribs.

Pain slashed across my side. I staggered. Legs gave out. The world tilted.

Blood in my mouth — hot. Familiar. Goddamn *comforting.*

And the thought:

*Again. I’m alone again.*

But no.

Footsteps.

Loud. Certain. Solid as stone.

Yu Jaeyi stepped forward.

No warning. No hesitation.

She stood in front of me. Like a shield.

Raised her hand — as if she could stop the whole damn storm herself.

— Enough! — her voice was a blade.

It didn’t demand submission — it *imposed* it.

That voice held power. The kind that made you freeze. Even I… felt a shiver.

The boys backed off. Not from her.
From the authority that erupted from her like a volcano through a marble mask.

The fire in her eyes had nothing in common with the old coldness. There was no disdain. There was fury. **Protective. Unconditional.**

And there she stood.

Between me and them.

Her.

Yoo Jaeyi

My shadow. My opposition.
Now — my shield.

I stared at her — not believing.

She’s protecting me?

---

**Later**

I was sitting in the nurse’s office, leaning back against the cold metal headboard of the cot. The air smelled of peroxide, band-aids, and something old—sealed in gauze and sterile silences.

The white lamp overhead was irritating.
The noise in my head hadn’t quieted—a low, dull hum, like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my skull.

There was a stitch on my lip, pulling at the skin every time I moved. My cheekbone throbbed with a dull pain, like a small nail had been hammered in underneath.

I leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Then—the door creaked open.
I didn’t look. I already knew who it was.
By the sound of her heels. By her breathing. By that tight silence that entered the room with her.

— Are you out of your mind?! — Yoo Jaeyi’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. — You could’ve lost your teeth! Lost consciousness! Lost… — she faltered, as if the words were slipping from her grip.

I slowly turned my head.

She was standing there, leaning against the doorframe, her face twisted between rage and worry. Her hands were clenched into fists, shoulders tense.

— I’m fine, — I waved her off. My voice rasped, and I immediately felt the urge to cough. — So what. One stitch, one bruise. It happens.

— “It happens”?! — she stepped closer, and something sharp flared in her eyes. — You don’t get it! You don’t…

She broke off.

I looked up at her.

She stood right in front of me, but it felt like even she didn’t know why she’d come.

Her lips trembled. Her fingers gripped the edge of the desk so hard her knuckles turned white.

And then, slowly, she sat down on the edge of the cot—next to me. Barely touching, but still… next to me.

Silence stretched between us. Thick. Strange. Alive.

— Why do you go into blood so easily? — she asked quietly. Not commanding, not accusing. Just… human. — Why don’t you care what happens to you?

I sighed. Not because I wanted to answer. Just because… I couldn’t not.

— It’s not that I don’t care. — I looked away, fixing my eyes on the blank whiteness of the wall. — It’s just… better me than him. The kid...he… he was crying.

Yoo Jaeyi pressed her lips together. Stayed quiet for a long time. Then suddenly turned to me:

— But you’re a person too! — her voice cracked. — You… you deserve care, even if you don’t believe that yourself!

I froze.

The words hung in the air. Heavy. Real.

Yoo Jaeyi quickly looked away.
As if she regretted them. Or was scared of them.
She stared at the floor. At her hands. At her perfectly ironed sleeves. Anywhere but at me.

But I looked.
For a long time.

And for the first time—not with anger. Not with a sting in my chest. Not with that usual annoyance.
Just… looked at her—not as the soulless top student, not as the control freak, not as the school president who made you roll your eyes.

But as a person. Fractured, tense, confused.
But sincere.

— You’re not scolding me because of the rules, are you? — I asked softly, almost in a whisper.

She didn’t answer.

I waited. Not pushing. Just watching her fight with herself.
Watching the light in her eyes shift. From cold… to something warmer.

— You’re scared. For me?

Silence.

But no answer was needed.

I already knew.

---

**Later that same evening**

The room was wrapped in soft half-darkness.
Only slivers of light from the streetlamps slipped through the curtains.
I lay on my back, one hand over my face, as if shielding myself from something… too big to name.

My fingers brushed the stitch on my lip. It pulsed. Reminded me.

But it wasn’t the pain.

I'm used to pain. That was easy. What was harder—was this new feeling inside. Warm, unsettling.

Not because I won. Not because of the fight. Not because of the boy, who whispered thank you in the end.

Because of her.

Yoo Jaeyi.

She stepped into that fight. For me.
Not for reputation. Not for school code.
For me.

She jumped in like into fire. Took the blow.
Chose "me"

I closed my eyes.

Until today, she’d been an iceberg to me.
Perfect, cold, untouchable.

But now… something cracked.

And through the ice—light shone.

I caught myself thinking about her.
And not like an enemy. But like a person.

With eyes where, for the first time… the sun had risen.

Chapter Text

2 years ago

Seoul greeted Seulgi like a snobby host at a five-star restaurant — the kind that lets you in by accident and immediately regrets it.

The neon signs slapped her in the face, practically yelling: “Wrong girl, wrong city!”

And the rain? That petty, annoying drizzle? It felt like Seoul’s way of throwing shade.

– Wow. Nice. Totally magical, – Seulgi muttered, tugging her hood tighter. Her fingers were still sticky from the bus pole, and her sneakers squeaked with every wet step.

“It’s like the rain already knows I’m not gonna fit in. Figures. Probably psychic or something.”

She wasn’t expecting warmth.
Warmth never stayed anyway.

Seventeen years, and she’d already done time in:
– three shelters,
– two “sweet” aunties,
– and one house where silence = dinner.

Now she had a “stepmom.”
A woman with soft tones and customer-service-level kindness.

– This is your room. And… school starts tomorrow. Good luck.

Seulgi nodded. No drama. No fake gratitude.

– Yeah, thanks. I’ll try not to burst into tears.

**Chaeva High School**

If this school had a filter, it’d be called “sterile chic”.

It didn’t look like a place for teenagers.
It looked like the set of a drama — clean, glossy, too-perfect-to-trust.

“People don’t just walk in here. They materialize. Straight-backed, powdered, and terrifying.”

The students smiled — too wide, too much.
Like somewhere on their bodies was a happiness timer, and if it hit zero — poof. System error.

Seulgi stepped into the main hall and instantly felt the urge to disappear.

– Anyone here... not plastic? – she whispered, eyes scanning.

She tried asking a girl with a uniform so sharply ironed it could cut glass.

– Hey, do you know where the principal—

The girl scanned her like a QR code and turned on her heel, gone.

– Cool. Just got ghosted in real life.

“Welcome to the social circus. I’m the makeup-free clown.”

And then she saw her.

Yoo Jaeyi.

She didn’t walk — she glided. Like gravity didn’t apply.
Every step was measured, like she was balancing on a tightrope made of rules.

Chin up. Back straight. Slow, certain steps.
Not cocky — just... unshakable. Like she couldn’t afford to break posture, or she might actually fall apart.

“She’s not trying. She’s not performing. And somehow she’s still the final boss of this school.”

Seulgi stopped walking.
Not out of admiration — out of what the hell was that energy?

“Why does she move like she’s the queen of a kingdom that doesn’t exist anymore?”

Jaeyi passed. Then paused.

“Woo Seulgi. New uniform. Tomorrow,” she said — cold, clipped, and somehow final.

Then kept walking.

Seulgi stood frozen, like she’d just triggered a side quest without meaning to.

“Did I just get threatened? Or recruited?”

She smirked.

– Well, at least someone finally acknowledged my existence.

Pause.

– It's really threatening, but in its own way it's cute...

---

**After school**

Seulgi sat on her bed, staring at the water-stained ceiling, her uniform in a defeated pile beside her.

“Okay. New uniform. New day. New public humiliation?”

She sighed.

“Great. Strong start, as always, Seulgi.”

“But seriously... what was that girl?
She looked at me like she actually saw me. Like — really saw.”

Phone: dead quiet.
Stepmom: still at work.
House: silent.
The dripping faucet in the bathroom: scoring her inner monologue like a sad detective movie.

Seulgi walked to the mirror, stared at herself like she was about to audition for survival.

“All right. Project ‘Don’t crash and burn on week one’ starts now.”
She gave herself a mock salute.
“Good luck, main character. Let’s try not to be the villain this time.”

---

Present time

Cracks

From Seulgi's POV

The morning after the fight smelled like bandages, iodine, and the cold tiles of the school hallway.

I walked down the corridor like it was a stage after a disaster — everything looked the same, but the air was different. Tense. It pressed down, crackled underfoot, whispering: "You crossed the line."

My fingers throbbed — the knuckles scraped raw. My knees stung, and the inside of my sleeve clung to a wound I didn’t even remember getting.

*Perfect. Blood, too. Student of the Month, no doubt.*

I stepped into the principal’s office, trying not to wince. The door clicked shut behind me — loud, like a courtroom.

Inside, everything was the same: worn-out carpet, musty silence, the sour smell of paper and coffee. But now — it felt different.

Yoo Jaeyi was already sitting there. Straight-backed, composed, like a statue. And it would’ve all looked perfectly normal if I hadn’t noticed her hands — her fingers, clasped tightly in her lap, were trembling. Almost imperceptibly. But I noticed. And she saw that I noticed.

*Interesting. She’s scared. Or mad at herself for coming?*

– Take a seat, – the principal muttered without looking up from the papers.

I sat down noisily. On purpose. Let them think I didn’t care. Loud chair = loud message: "I’m here. Don’t forget to punish me."

The lecture began. He spoke like an old radio announcer: monotonous, scripted. Discipline. School image. Witnesses. Reputation. It all blurred into one long note of irritation.

I half-listened, because all my focus was on Jaeyi. She sat like she was nailed to the chair. Didn’t interrupt. But once — her hand clenched into a fist. Just for a second.

*What are you doing here, Jaeyi? This isn’t your problem. Or is it now?*

"Last warning, Woo Seulgi. One more stunt like that, and you’re expelled. No right to re-enroll," the principal finished harshly, and I snorted inwardly: *Surprise, surprise.*

He turned to Jaeyi:

– And you, as president, are expected to prevent such incidents. This is your responsibility. We’ll talk later. Believe me, the committee won’t approve if this happens again.

I felt something twist inside.
She’s in trouble. Because of me. Real trouble.
And yet... she just stepped outside that door. She simply didn’t walk past.

When we exited into the hallway, I followed her. Jaeyi walked fast, precise, almost angry. The heels of her boots struck the floor like a metronome.

I slowed down and called out:

— Hey... listen. I—

— Don’t, — she cut in. Without turning around.

— But i—

She stopped abruptly, turned, and looked at me.

Her eyes were calm, steady. But her voice had a sharp ring to it.

— You’ve already had your punishment. That’s enough.

I stepped back. Not because I was scared — just didn’t expect it.

— You knew I’d get involved, — I said quietly. — It was obvious.

Jae stared straight at me, like scanning.

— Don’t go in alone. That’s not bravery, it’s stupidity. You think you’re the only one who can fight?

— And yet you came.

For a second — silence. The air between us felt like glass — and I couldn’t tell if it would shatter or hold.

She looked away and said softly, almost inaudibly:

— Because I couldn’t not come.

---

**Later, in the library**

The silence in the library was always something special. Not dead – listening.

Kyeong sat at a table with the codebook on administrative offenses. Her glasses had slipped down her nose, and she frowned as if the law had personally insulted her.

I came up behind her, swung my backpack onto the chair.

— Hiding behind rules again?

Kyeong didn’t look up, but the corners of her mouth twitched:

— And you’re always looking for a stage?

— It’s boring when no one talks back.

She glanced at me. Stayed quiet for a long moment.

— I heard you put on quite the show. No tickets required. Thanks for giving Jaeyi a new headache.

I dropped into the seat across from her.

— Are you angry?

— I get angry when someone she keeps closer than others hurts her — without even realizing it.

— I’m not hurting her.

Kyeong closed the book and folded her hands over it.

– You're a storm. She's a glass house. Sometimes those hold. Sometimes—they crack. She's had to be alone too often. And now, with someone close by—she doesn’t know how it’s even supposed to... work.

I was silent.

– You’re protecting her, – I said after a pause.

Kyeong nodded.

– She’s my friend. I want her to have a chance at something normal. If you’re part of that chance, stay. If not… — she looked me straight in the eyes, – don’t break her.

---

**Evening. Outside the School**

I saw her by the gate. Alone. In a coat. As if she were waiting for someone—or couldn’t bring herself to leave.

I walked up silently. And stopped, too.

–You didn’t have to take the heat for me, – I said.

– I know.

Pause.

– Are you angry?

– I… no, – she exhaled. – I just don’t like it when you get into fights. Even if the reason… is right.

– Do you ever jump in? Just because?

– Only if… there’s no one else.

And then I looked at her. Really looked.

And suddenly—she looked back.

– I don’t like seeing you hurt, – she said quietly. – Even if you choose it yourself.

And then my heart... jumped to my throat. Just like that. No prep. No warning.

I swallowed. And tried to joke:

– You wear being caring well. Almost scary.

She waved a hand, as if brushing dust off her coat:

– Don’t make things up. I just don’t want you to get expelled. It’d be boring without your regular reports to the disciplinary committee.

Voice—neutral. But the corner of her mouth twitched anyway.

---

**Meanwhile: Yeri**

The rooftop was quiet.

Too quiet for a school where emotions usually flew through the air like paper airplanes.

Yeri lay sprawled out, arms spread, gazing at the gray sky.

Somewhere nearby, a laptop rustled—Kyeong was habitually setting up her fortress of work, schedules, and caffeine.

– You noticed how you look at Jaeyi? – Yeri drawled lazily, not taking her eyes off the clouds. Her voice sounded as if she had just woken up or was about to say something almost important.

– I've known her for ten years. It's just concern, – Kyeong replied calmly, not lifting her eyes from the screen.

Yeri smirked, quietly but with a sting:

– And what about how you don't look at me when I'm around?

Kyeong seemed to freeze for a second. Then, without a word, she took a sip of coffee.

Retreating into coffee—her tactical move when she didn't know what to say.

Yeri looked at her, squinting slightly, and more gently, but with a challenge:

– You always calculate everything, don't you? Even yourself?

– Better to calculate emotions than let them control you, – she said evenly, like from a textbook.

– And what if you suddenly don't want to calculate?

Silence.

This time, Kyeong slowly raised her gaze. There was something confused in it, but calm. Like someone who doesn't know what to do but doesn't run.

They looked at each other longer than necessary.

– Then I'll need to learn, – she finally said. Without irony. Without defense.

Yeri exhaled. A real, slightly tired smile touched her lips.

– Learn. I'm a good teacher. Maybe too good.

---

**Evening. Stairwell**

The school was empty. The air smelled of rain and clean rags—the floors had been mopped.

Seulgi sat on the cold step, hugging a bottle of warm soda as if it were a kitten, not plastic.

Her chest still ached. Not painfully—just empty. As if there were swings inside: back and forth, back and forth.

Echoes of Jaeyi's words still echoed in her head:

*"It's not heroism. It's stupidity."*

– Thanks, – Seulgi muttered to herself. – A diagnosis, as always, spot on.

Footsteps.

They were careful, rhythmic. Not like those who run, and not like those who dawdle.

Just... genuine.

She sat down next to her.

Right. Next to her.

Yoo Jaeyi.

Without words.

Without distance.

As if she told herself: “Enough keeping your distance. For one evening.”

Seulgi didn't move. She only felt a slight touch of a shoulder against her arm.

Like electricity. Or the memory of it.

– I kept wondering why you're like this, – Jaeyi began quietly. Her voice wasn't cold; it was... confused. Too honest. – Why you get into fights, risk yourself, as if you don't care.

Seulgi looked into the darkness. Smiled with the corner of her lips, tiredly.

– Because I do care. About others. About those who stay silent when they should scream.

Pause.

– And about yourself?

These words caught her off guard. As if someone knocked inside—and didn't expect an answer.

Seulgi raised her eyes, met her gaze.

It wasn't icy. It was alive. Deep.

– I don't know how to be with myself. I... just *am*. I'm a fact. And no one hugs facts.

Jaeyi lowered her gaze. Her fingers clenched.

– I've never felt that anyone cared about me. Even Kyeong. She's around, but... by the book. And you... –  she hesitated, and it was almost touching, – you burst in like a hurricane. Without asking. Without politeness. And I don't know how to stop you. And I'm not sure I want to.

Seulgi slightly raised her eyebrows, smirked, but not mockingly.

– Then don't stop me.

They fell silent.

The wind rustled the edges of their clothes. Pipes made noise somewhere. The world lived its own life.

And between them hung... something.

Jae took a deep breath and finally moved a step away.

– Still, you're a problem, – Jaeyi said, and her voice became even again, like a school protocol. – Only now it's... my problem.

Seulgi smirked, tilting her head to the side.

– Hm. So I'm like an allergy? Kind of irritating, but now hard to live without?

She expected at least a hint of a smile. Or a snort. But Jaeyi, as if on cue, slowly, almost theatrically, put on her usual mask: calmness, control, imperturbability. Everything that had just trembled in her voice disappeared. Disappeared along with the closeness that Seulgi had almost felt on her skin.

As if the scene was turned off by light.

Seulgi frowned. Glanced at her, squinting:

– Well. You were just almost... caring. Did I imagine it?

– Didn't imagine it, – Jaeyi replied, not looking, – just didn't record it.

A second. Another.

Then she stood up. Smoothly, as always. Without sudden movements.

As if their conversation was a page she had already turned.

– Good night, Woo Seulgi.

– Yeah... Good night, Problem Bearer.

Jae slightly nodded her head but didn't turn around. Her steps were again light and precise—as if she hadn't left but dissolved into the evening corridor.

Seulgi remained sitting on the cold step, still holding the warm soda bottle in her hands.

She looked at the spot where Jaeyi had just been sitting and whispered, almost cheerfully:

– Yeah, right. Imagined it. Only ghosts usually don't smell like jasmine and desperate bravery.

Then she stood up, stretched, and, as if nothing had happened, went her own way.

But her steps were now a bit quieter.

As if she was carrying something important—and didn't want to spill it.

Chapter Text

**Two years ago**

Jaeyi POV

A month had passed.

Exactly a month since Woo Seulgi crossed the threshold of Chaeva School — and shattered my perfectly constructed reality with something that couldn't be filed into any school report.

A month of chaos.

A month of phone calls from the principal.

A month of stupid, stubborn fights.

A month where my name came up more often than anywhere else:

“Yoo Jaeyi, handle it.”
“Yoo Jaeyi, you're the president, you're responsible.”
“Yoo Jaeyi, the new girl again…”

She didn’t just break the rules — she slapped them in the face.

And, damn it, she did it with such… internal clarity, it was unsettling.

As if she wasn’t trying to win.
She just couldn’t stay silent.

Chaeva had always been a school of the “silent.” Some suffered. Some humiliated. Everything flowed like crude oil — thick, dull, sluggish.

Then she came.

And with her — it was like someone flipped a switch. The classroom became loud. More alive. Meaner. More honest.

I remember how, in the first week, someone poured juice on her.
In the hallway. In front of everyone.

The bottle went up — and suddenly splash — a warm, viscous wave.

Slightly orange stains bloomed across her white shirt like gunshots.

There wasn’t a drop of surprise on her face.

She stood there. Soaked. Drops ran down her neck, her sleeves. Like she wasn’t a person — but a target after training.
Like she’d been through this so many times that she no longer cared.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand. Slowly.

As if she knew: this wouldn’t be the last attack.

— It’s fine. I didn’t expect it to be any different, — she said flatly and walked away.

No complaints. No anger. Just a kind of frightening exhaustion.

I remember watching her go and thinking:

"What even are you? What are you made of?"

**A week later — again**

During break, I was walking through the corridor when I heard harsh laughter. Someone by the lockers.

Seulgi. Pressed against the cold metal.

A red paint stain was blooming on her chest, slowly dripping — like a blood trail across pristine white snow.

— That shirt won’t wash out anyway, — one of them said.

— Might as well donate it to charity now, — another added.

Seulgi didn’t respond. Just looked them straight in the face.
So silently, it made the silence uncomfortable.

Then she turned and walked away.

---

I walked into the restroom five minutes later.

She was there.

At the sink. In a white undershirt.

The shirt — in her hand. Soaked, twisted. It smelled of something harsh, like cheap, industrial paint.

Seulgi was scrubbing the fabric like she wasn’t just trying to wash out a stain — but to erase the fact that she’d been attacked. Again. That she hadn’t responded. Again. That she’d swallowed it all. Again.

Water was running and running.

Her fingers were red from the soap.

Her shoulders trembled.

I saw her hands shaking. How hard she was trying not to scream.

“You’ve been here before, haven’t you? In this silence. In this loneliness. Only back then, they called it something else.”

***

*"The sound of water from the old school faucet was the only thing filling the empty restroom. Seulgi bent over the sink, scrubbing with an almost fanatical persistence — her white shirt was no longer white. A red stain had spread across the chest — someone’s latest ‘joke.’ Water streamed down her arms, foaming with soap, but the stain wouldn’t come out. Seulgi barely blinked.

Her hands trembled.

She wasn’t here. She was somewhere else. In memories that smelled like medicine and mold, in voices that had called her ‘troubled,’ ‘unwanted’…"

She didn’t notice when the door opened.

Yoo Jaei stood in the doorway. Silently.*

She took everything in — the soaked undershirt clinging to Seulgi, the ruined shirt in the water, the frantic scrubbing, the trembling fingers.

Seulgi was still scrubbing. Still elsewhere. Her shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

It wasn’t anger. Or pain. It was the silence before a breakdown.

— Can’t you see? It’s not going to wash out.

Seulgi flinched. Turned. No fury, no fear — only exhaustion.
As if she’d long since accepted that things would only get worse.

— What? — hoarsely.

Jaeyi stepped closer.

Held out a shirt. Clean, folded, untouched by anyone else’s hands.

— Take it. I have a spare.

— I don’t need it. I’ll manage.

"Of course you will," Jaei thought. "You’re only in this world to manage, aren’t you?"

But she said aloud:

— This isn’t kindness. You look like a school disaster. You can’t go out like that. It’s a school regulation. And if you keep showing up in dirty uniforms, I’ll have to report it. – My voice was cold. Like a knife in a glass of water.

She froze. I could hear the words cutting. Deep.
But I didn’t know how to speak any other way. I didn’t allow myself.

— I see. So even this — is for appearances. — she whispered. — Everything here is just for the facade, huh? Even you.

— I do what I must.

— Of course. Nothing in this world happens just because. Not even a shirt thrown in someone’s face.
Only because you don’t want to ruin your precious record.

And then she yanked the shirt from my hands and threw it aside.

I stayed silent.

There was a strange pain. Not from offense. From something else.

I stepped forward. Picked up the shirt. And… instead of handing it back — threw it into the trash can.

— As you wish, — I said quietly and walked out.

No sound behind me.

But just as I was closing the door, I heard her breath. Sharp. Unsteady.

And one short sound — like pain.

She stayed there. Alone.
With a heart that, I swear… was beating too fast.

As if inside her, there was a spring.
Wound tight.
Waiting to snap.

And for the first time, I thought — maybe there really was something wrong with her. Not like with others.

As if she wasn’t just a problem.

But someone that no one in this damn building — or the entire world — could understand.

Or even wanted to.

And that thought… scared me.

More than I wanted to admit.

---

**Present Day**

The Practice of Obedience

Seulgi's POV

If I got a thousand won for every warning I received, I’d already have an apartment in Seoul with a river view, a cat named Kimchi, and evenings full of peace.

But no.

Here I am again, standing in front of the school bulletin board. My expression — philosophical acceptance of fate. My soul — mildly hysterical.

Opposite me — Kyung, strict as the school lunch budget, and… Yoo Jaeyi. In person.

— So, — Kyung began, snapping her folder shut, — disciplinary measure: joint task with the student council president. Observation duty.

I froze. Glanced at Yoo Jaeyi. She was like a statue: perfect from posture to dead calm.

I could practically hear a groan echo somewhere inside me.

— You’re kidding, right? — I muttered. — You’re pairing me with *the Ice Queen*?

— That’s actually lenient, in your case, — she replied. – Voice like glacier water. Clear. Cold. Cutting.

I almost regretted speaking. Almost.

— Punishment begins today. 3:30 PM. Security office, — Kyung continued.

I crossed my arms, tilted my head:

— Do they at least hand out mops... or pistols?

Kyung didn’t respond, but I definitely saw it — the corner of her mouth twitched. Almost a smirk. Almost.

Considering Jaeyi was standing right next to her — that was a revolutionary success.

---

**3:33 PM**

I’m standing at the security office door in a ridiculous vest that says *ORDER TRAINEE*, wearing gloves that look like they came straight out of a cheap medical drama.

I stare at my reflection in the glass: tired, slightly disheveled, and hopelessly sarcastic.
I look like I’m part of a flash mob called “Survival Day for the Troubled.”

— You’re three minutes late, — came a voice behind me.

I flinched. Of course. Yoo Jaeyi. Master of the sudden appearance.

— Were you timing me? Suspicious… — I squinted at her. — Got a stopwatch built into your head?

— I time everything, — she replied coolly. — It’s part of my duties.

— And what now? Gonna file me under “Seulgi – threat to time management”?

— Possibly, — she said and handed me a trash bag.

— We’ll start with the inner courtyard. You’re on the north side.

— And you... throne side, Ice Madam?

She didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.
Walked as if her spine was made of protocol.

I scoffed and trudged after her.

Everything was back to normal. None of yesterday’s *“I don’t like it when you’re hurt.”*
No concern. No trembling corners of her lips. Just me, a trash bag, and the monarchy of cold silence.

---

The courtyard was nearly empty. It smelled of freshly cut grass, dust, and a faint... melancholy.

A tractor by the gate rumbled like an old dog in its sleep.

We silently picked up wrappers, leaves, the curse of students who forgot about exams.

And then — a find. A small plush bear. Missing a leg.

I picked it up by the ear:

— What do you think? Symbolic? A plush bear with trauma. Just like my childhood.

— Spare me the drama, — she replied.

— It’s not drama, it’s *art*. Don’t you have any sense of symbolism?

— I have a sense of discipline.

— You’re more boring than a textbook on administrative law.

Zero reaction. Not even a twitch. I kept collecting trash, slightly pouting.

At some point — she turned:

— Why do you always fight?

I stopped. Slowly turned around:

— And why do you always stay silent when you should speak? You don’t even defend yourself with words.

She looked straight at me. No hesitation.

— I don’t think it’s worth stooping to primitive problem-solving.

— And I don’t think it’s worth staring at the floor when someone’s hurting those who can’t fight back.

Pause. She didn’t answer. But in her gaze — something... flickered?

Something on the edge of admiration and… fear?

---

When we dropped off the trash bags in the lobby — we spotted three upperclassmen. One of them — Park Jinho.
The kind of guy who thinks “wit” is being loud and disgusting.

— Well, look at that, Seulgi’s cleaning the courtyard! Progress! Soon you’ll be president like Yoo Jaeyi. Right, Jaeyi-sunbae?

I was about to smack him. Or at least say something with an 18+ rating. But...

— Park Jinho, — she said.
Her voice calm. Slightly quieter than usual. But somehow, the entire hall leaned in to listen. — As a senior, you should know: mocking disciplinary actions is an ethics violation. Would you like to explain that directly to the principal?

The guy went pale. Blinked.

— No, sunbae...

— Then disappear. And watch your mouth.

He left. Almost stumbled backward. I stood there.

Mouth slightly open.

— You just… — I began.

— Maintained order, — she cut in. — Nothing more.

But... between *“nothing more”* and the silence, there was a pause.
The kind you don’t hear with your ears.

The kind that gave me a mini heart attack.
Quiet. Invisible. But with consequences.

---

We were issued meal vouchers for lunch.

I looked at the little slip of paper in my hand and snorted.

It sounded like a joke: *“disciplinary meal”*.
As in — eat, but without pleasure. And feel guilty somewhere between the entrée and the fruit punch.

I chose curry.
Because curry is the kind of food that at least *pretends* you still have free will.

Jaeyi took… vegetables. Just vegetables. No rice, no sauce. Not even decent bread.

And it was so Jaeyi that I almost wanted to howl a little.

We sat at the farthest table. The kind where couples or introverts usually hide. And now — us.

The silence felt sacred. Like the cafeteria had turned into a temple.
Clinking forks, trays rattling in the distance. People around us were eating, chatting.
And we… were chewing judgment.

Five minutes. Not a sound.

I couldn’t take it anymore:

— Are you always this silent during meals? Or just hoping I’ll choke?

She didn’t lift her head.

— I don’t make small talk while performing assigned duties.

I leaned back in my chair and rolled my eyes:

— So even lunch is part of your disciplinary battleground?

— Not everything has to be chaos, Woo Seulgi.

I stared at her.

— But without chaos… do you even know who you are?

This time, she didn’t answer. Not because she didn’t want to —
but because she froze.

I saw her fingers tighten slightly on her fork. A barely visible tremble.
Just a moment.

And then — back to control.

But I noticed.

"There’s fire in the Ice Queen. It’s just buried deep. In a room with no windows. And a sign that says: DO NOT ENTER WITHOUT A PASSWORD."

And for some reason, I wanted to find that password. Stupid, right?

But something in my chest clenched. A little. And for a long time.

---

We were quiet again.
Well — she was quiet. I was… observing.

Not on purpose.

It’s just — she had that kind of neck. Like she’s never slouched in her life.

And that kind of jawline. The kind of person who definitely doesn’t eat instant noodles from a bucket at 2 a.m.

And her lips. Calm. Zipped shut.
With a piece of lettuce on the upper one. Tiny. But… there.

I stared at her.
Perfect Yoo Jaeyi. With salad on her mouth.

Ha. Not even the goddess of discipline can fully escape human error.

She hadn’t noticed. But I had.
And in my mind came the thought: “I wonder what would happen if I said: you’ve got something… or just wiped it from her?”

But I didn’t say anything.
Just kept looking.

Then turned away. Fast. Too fast.
My face went crimson. My heart jumped somewhere between my heels and my thigh. I couldn’t tell.

— Well? — she said suddenly, not lifting her eyes. — Do you have something to say?

I raised an eyebrow.

— You started it. I came here to eat, remember?

— Don’t you regret going against the system again? — she asked.

I looked at her.
And I was about to respond with my usual sarcasm.
But something in her voice…

It wasn’t strict.

It was… almost concerned.

Almost quiet.

— And do you regret being born so… proper?

She stayed silent. Just stared. Straight into my eyes.

And I held her gaze. Of course I did.
What, like I’d flinch?

— Fighting isn’t a solution, — she finally said.

— I know, — I shrugged. — But sometimes the solution is punching the one humiliating others. Someone’s got to, since the rest of you are too busy with timetables and rulebooks.

— And the consequences? — She leaned slightly closer.

— You think no one’s cleaning up after you?

— You?

— Yes. Me. – Her gaze sharp. Steady. Like a scalpel — not painful, but precise.

I set down my bun.

— Sorry. Guess you're the only one in this school capable of taking responsibility.
For me, for the bun, and for my reputation.

Pause

Long. Too long.

I felt the silence between us turning into… something. Almost alive.

She suddenly looked away.

*Whoa. A crack in the monolith? Did I do that?*

— You’ve got a crumb, — she said quietly. — On your lip.

I froze.

There it was. Heart attack number one.

"Is that… concern? A coded way of saying ‘I see you’? Or… just a fact?"

— Do you always point out flaws instead of giving compliments? — I snorted, brushing it away.

— Just saying, — dryly.

But her eyes lingered on my hand. Just for a second.
Like… maybe she wanted to do it herself. But didn’t dare.

I looked at her.

Not at the president — at the girl.
With slightly sad eyes. Too grown-up.

And her hands — so quiet.
Not the kind that hit.
The kind that might… catch you, if they wanted to.

— Do you always educate people in silence? — I asked.

— Silence is sometimes the best way to hear, — she replied.

— That sounds like something from a motivational poster.
All that’s missing is a kitten in the background.

For a second — I swear — the corner of her lips twitched.
Not a smile.
A pre-smile. Beta version.

And I counted that as a win.
A small one. But mine.

— It’s just… — she sighed slightly. — You look like you’re always expecting everyone to be against you.

— I’m not expecting. I’m used to it.

— And yet you keep fighting.

I nodded.

— What else am I supposed to do? Cry? Yell? Wait for someone to step in?

— Yes.

I turned.

She was serious.

— And what if no one comes?

Silence. Long.

And then — I saw her hands tremble. Just a little. But again — I noticed.

"So she was scared. Or she understood. Or both. Or maybe I was just delusional."

---

— Thanks for the lunch, — I said, standing up. — Very… corrective.

— It’s not over yet, — she said calmly. But it sounded… just a bit quieter than usual.

— I’m sure. You’re like a GPS with a moral compass.
Always know where to drag me.

I started walking toward the exit.

And still… still, I looked back.

She was looking out the window. Not at me.

But inside — it felt like someone had just *handed me an umbrella.*
No words. Just… so I wouldn’t get wet.

I think I stared too long, because I didn’t notice Jaeyi was suddenly next to me.
And at the cafeteria exit, without turning, she said:

— Same time tomorrow. Don’t be late.

I smirked:

— I’ll be five minutes early. Just to mess with your stress levels.

She didn’t answer.

Just walked ahead. Straight back. Measured step. Like she was marching.

But… her shoulders.
They twitched. Just a little.

And I knew:

A dent just appeared in her perfect schedule.

And I was the one who made it.

With my chaos.

With my crumb.

With my filterless questions.

And I liked that.

Chapter Text

Seulgi POV

The next day started with rain.

At first, it was just a drizzle — hesitant, like it wasn’t sure it had permission to fall.

That kind of awkward dampness when the asphalt hasn’t quite started to shine, but the sky’s already gone sour.

And then… it let loose.

Right in the face. Rain hammered against the windows like anger someone up there had finally decided to stop bottling up.

I stood by the window, staring. Supposedly at the schoolyard. But really — at myself.

" You know that feeling?
When everything’s quiet on the outside, but inside there’s this heavy, dumb weight — not pain, not anxiety, just something dense and unmoving, like bad weather that’s made a home in you and refuses to leave. "

Yesterday was still stuck in my head like a splinter. Invisible, but the second you touch it — there it is.

Yoo Jaeyi – the Ice Queen.

She let me stay near her. Breathe in her space.

And then…

She took my side.

Well, officially — she stood up for school rules.

*“That’s not allowed, Woo Seulgi. You know the code.”*

But I saw her eyes when Jinho sneered at my name like it was a mistake.

Yoo Jaeyi didn’t smile. Didn’t shake her head. She just… narrowed her eyes. Just enough to let me know: she heard it. And she didn’t like it.

That wasn’t kindness.
But it wasn’t indifference either.
It was something "in between".

And that, honestly, pissed me off more than anything.

Because I had no idea what to do with it.

"I don’t like you, okay?
But if you look at me like that one more time — i might start having doubts."

**Then**

– You plotting against the president again?

I jumped.

Yeri flopped into the desk next to mine.

The classroom was still empty, the lesson hadn’t started. Rain tapped rhythmically on the windows.

– What makes you think that? – I mumbled, lower than I meant.

– You’ve got "that" face. –  She squinted at me. – Like you wanna punch someone… and then maybe hug them right after.

I froze.

"She’s right.
That’s exactly how I feel.

Like my whole mood is a war between my fist and my open palm.

What do you do with someone who keeps you at arm’s length, but still notices the crumb on your lip?

Who doesn’t save you… but *covers* for you?

I don’t know.
But I kind of want to find out."

– Here, – Yeri’s voice cut through my thoughts like caffeine in the morning. – No sugar. Just like your life.

I snorted and took the cup.

– Thanks, menace.

Yeri crossed one leg over the other, squinting toward the window like she was trying to look thoughtful but failed halfway.

– All right, spill.

– What?

– You’re head over heels for Yoo Jaeyi.

I nearly choked on my coffee.

– What?! No! She’s just… interesting. That’s all.

– Mhm. "Interesting," –  Yeri mimicked, raising her eyebrows. – You look at her like she revealed the secrets of the universe and sprinkled in a bit of star dust for flair.

– I do not look at her like that.

– You do, – she said, nodding. – You just said 'I do not,' and your ears turned red like I just confessed my love for you.

I turned away, yanking my hoodie up to hide my blushing face.

– I’m just hot. You’re sitting too close. Maybe you’re radiating.

– I only radiate truth. – Yeri leaned in smugly. – Just admit it. You’ve got a thing for her. She’s your type — all cool detachment and ‘I’m above this’ energy.

– I don’t have a type.

– Oh, sure. And the one person who can drive you insane with a single look also happens to be the one your brain is secretly writing love monologues about. Funny how that works, huh?

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile.

– You’re one to talk. Have you seen the way you look at Kyeong? Like she’s your long-lost comet. With a tail. And serious attitude.

Yeri stiffened instantly.

– Kyeong? Wha— I mean, she’s just… really good at ping pong.

– Right. And her wrists look really elegant when she serves. Write the poem already: ‘Ode to Her Backhand.’

– I brought you coffee! – Yeri shoved my shoulder, but she was laughing.

– Uh-huh. Just to emotionally soften me up so I’d confess i’m into Jaeyi.

– Nope, – Yeri said, with the gravity of a monk. – So you’d cry on my shoulder afterward and I could say ‘Told you so.’

We both cracked up. That kind of warm, stupid laughter that makes your ribs feel lighter.

– Thanks, Yeri.

– For the coffee?

– For keeping me out of my own head. It gets loud in there sometimes.

Yeri gave me a soft look. Then smirked.

– No worries, gorgeous. But if you ever need someone to distract Yoo Jaeyi and steal her schedule— you know who to call.

I grinned.

– Only if you promise to confess to Kyeong that she has the best wrists in school.

– You evil gremlin.

More laughter.

---

The classroom slowly filled with that soft buzz of morning laziness: yawns, rustling notebooks, someone sneakily unwrapping breakfast under the desk.

Yeri and I were already tucked away at the back window seat — our favorite spot.

Soft light filtered in, brushing my cheek, but I barely noticed.

My eyes were fixed on the middle row.

Jaeyi.

Sitting with perfect posture, centered like a portrait. Kyeong beside her, pretending to take notes but the page was blank.

Jaeyi looked flawless, as usual.

Crisp white shirt, hair tied back neatly. Every movement precise, face unreadable — ice calm, unreachable.

I stared. Again. Still. And each time i did, my heart did that awkward little flip, like watching her was somehow falling off a ledge.

– You’re starting to scare me, – Yeri whispered, leaning in. – I’m literally sitting here, alive, hilarious, and you’re still moon-eyeing your Snow Queen like she’s made of magic.

I yanked my gaze away, huffing:

– I’m not staring. I was just… seeing who’s sitting nearby.

– Uh-huh. Coincidentally. Eight times in a row.

– Are you keeping count?

– I count everything. It's my revenge for you stealing my muffin that one time.

I smirked, elbowed her. She elbowed me back. It turned into that quiet, playful shoving match under the desk that somehow always got us in trouble.

– Shhh! – Yeri hissed. – We're gonna get called out again.

I was about to reply when I felt it — like a shadow brushing past.

Kyeong turned. Her gaze flicked from me to Yeri. Eyes narrowed slightly, lips tugging up just a little — maybe a smile, maybe just curiosity. But she looked.

I nudged Yeri.

– You’ve got a fan. She’s practically basking in you.

– Don’t, – Yeri hissed, already blushing.

– Say it. She’s your ping-pong princess.

– I swear I will shove your muffin back into your backpack.

– Oh my god, not the muffin again…

– Girls, quiet! – the teacher barked without even turning. – This is economics, not your brunch chat.

– We were just..— Yeri started.

– We’re discussing market relations, – I cut in, sitting up straight. – In the context of emotional exchange between consumer and product.

Yeri covered her face, laughing. The class chuckled, someone up front stifled a giggle.

– That’s your last warning, – the teacher said, more tired than angry. He was used to us.

I snuck a glance at Jaeyi.

She was looking straight at me.

No change in expression, no visible reaction — but her eyes… they didn’t waver. It was like being looked at with a scalpel. Not cruel. Not kind. Just sharp enough to cut.

I looked down. Pretended to write. My hand was shaking.

– She looked at you, – Yeri whispered. – Eight full seconds. I counted.

– Yeah? – I whispered back, my voice barely there.

– And she didn’t set you on fire. I call that character development.

I glanced again, Jaeyi had turned back to the board. Her face was blank. Like nothing happened.

But i knew — something did.

That look… – It burned.

There was a whole storm wrapped in ice in that look — and yet, for some reason, she wanted to stand in it again, even if it burned.

---

After class, we were assigned to our sectors again.

Lucky me—library duty. Heaven for the nerds, hell for me. Though, turns out there was something worse: Jaeyi was in the library too.

She was standing by the entrance, checking the roster like she ran the whole building.
When I walked up, she didn’t even glance my way.

– You’re one minute late.

– Well, I’m shocked you didn’t slap me with a written warning.

– I’m considering it.

I grimaced and headed for the shelves where I was supposed to sort the books by category. Three enormous stacks.
Kyeong passed by, gave me a look that said "good luck", and left. Just me and Jaeyi, alone in the hush of the library—heavy with the scent of paper and the annoyingly loud ticking of the wall clock.

– You really think you can reform people? – I asked, not bothering to sugarcoat it.

– Not necessarily. But I have to try.

– Even when it’s pointless?

– Even when it’s you.

That one landed—right between the ribs.
Not unexpected, but still. It stung.
I shot back:

– And here I thought you had at least a sliver of humor. But nope — just a soul-shaped Excel spreadsheet.

She finally looked at me, calm, cold. Just as always.

– You only had an energy drink for lunch. That’s affecting your mood.

– Wait, what? Are you seriously keeping tabs on what i eat?

– I observe. It’s my responsibility.

– God, you’re a robot. A freaking android.

She didn’t respond. Just clicked her pen once — like a full stop to the conversation. A cold, mechanical *click* that said: "We’re done here."

---

Just as I started sorting the books, a loud, fake laugh echoed through the library.

Of course. The same girls I’d clashed with a few times before. They strolled past, snickering and whispering just loud enough:

– Well, well… Seulgi’s a librarian now. Maybe she’ll start wearing a uniform like Yoo Jaeyi too.

– Shh, she might hit you with a book. Right, Seulgi? Or are you a good little puppy now?

I tensed, ready to fire back.
But once again—Jaeyi beat me to it.

– Leave. Now.

Her voice cut through the air like a blade. No emotion. Just command.

– We were just joking...

– It wasn’t a joke. That was passive aggression. One more comment and it’s an official warning — and a call to your parents.

The girls backed off, silent. Then left.

I looked at Jaeyi. For a long time.

– You really are a robot, – I said. – But I guess you’ve got antivirus against stupidity.

– I maintain order. That’s all.

I didn’t believe her. Not entirely. But I didn’t say anything out loud. Because something inside me was shifting. I was starting to notice the pauses in her sentences. The glances that hadn’t been there before.

---

In the third person

The library breathed in silence, broken only by the rustle of pages and the creak of old floorboards.

Through the tall windows, light spilled across the shelves as if counting down the minutes until her punishment ended.

Seulgi sat at the table with a towering stack of books, quietly fuming, fatigue clinging to her like dust. She moved each volume with stubborn determination, as if building a wall between herself and the rest of the world. Her back ached. Her fingers had gone numb.

– You shelved it wrong again, –  Jaeyi said softly, but with that same unyielding tone, lifting her gaze from her own stack.

– Jeon comes after Choi, – she added, as if it wasn’t just a rule of sorting but a law of the universe.

Seulgi moved the book without a word. Her chest felt hollow—burned out like scorched earth after a fire.

Not even an argument could stir her anymore.

Then, the door creaked open.

Sonmin entered the library as if it were his stage—confident, effortless, with that easy charm teachers loved and outcasts despised. A folder in one hand, a smile on his face.

– Hey, do you have the club reports? – he asked Jaeyi, not even glancing at Seulgi.

– Yes. Here. – Jaeyi handed over the folder—and in that moment, something happened Seulgi hadn’t expected.

A smile.

Not polite, not professional.
Real. Soft. Warm. The kind of smile that melted the ice in Jaeyi’s face.

And she laughed. A quiet, genuine laugh—filled with something Seulgi had never heard from her before.

He laid a hand on Jaeyi’s shoulder—no flirtation, just an old friend’s gesture—and she placed her hand over his and gave it a small pat, as if to say, “Alright, idiot, that’s enough.”

But Seulgi heard none of that.

Something flared inside her.

Like a wire short-circuiting in her chest.
Heat surged into her face. Her fingers clenched the spine of a book so hard her knuckles turned white.

She didn’t understand it, but it felt like a tsunami under her skin—anger, jealousy, humiliation, confusion. All of it, all at once.

Sonmin was already turning to leave when he finally noticed her.

– Oh—bye to you too, – he said with a light half-smile. Polite. Almost friendly. Almost sincere.

Seulgi didn’t reply. Just gave the smallest of nods—solid and heavy, like a stone.

When he left, the library suddenly felt too quiet. The silence rang between them like a struck bell.

– Are you alright? – Jaeyi asked.

Too casually. Too calmly. As if there hadn’t been a smile. As if nothing had happened.

– Should i not be? – Seulgi replied in a neutral, almost lazy tone.

– No. I was just asking. – Jaeyi closed one of the books. – You can go.

Seulgi rose slowly, as if every muscle resisted the motion. One step. Then another. But on the threshold, she stopped.

Jay watched quietly and attentively.

Seulgi didn’t turn around.

" Of course she smiles at him. Of course he belongs. Handsome, smart, a future ahead of him. And me? What am I?

An orphan. No family, no background, no polished manners, no glowing record. Just fists, scars, and anger caught in my throat where words should be. Of course it’s stupid to think there could ever be something between us. "

Her heart pounded, as if someone were squeezing it from the inside. The pulse in her chest was hot, erratic.

But Seulgi stepped through the door and left—without looking back.

Jaeyi stayed where she was, staring at the empty doorway. Her face, as calm as ever.
But in her eyes — a question. One she didn’t yet know the answer to.

---

Seulgi left the library quickly, barely looking around. The door softly clicked shut behind her, and something seemed to break in her stomach. Her steps grew sharp and uneven. Her fingers trembled as if she had just come out of a fight — although this time, the battle wasn’t with fists.

With every step, her shaking grew worse.

“How can I be such an idiot? How can I… be jealous of Jaeyi, of some Sonmin?”

“Are you completely crazy?” a voice echoed in her head. But the scene was still vivid before her eyes: the hand on the shoulder, her laughter — the kind she had never heard before: sincere, human. Not ice, not control, but alive, warm. But not for her.

---

At home, the air smelled of soy sauce and something meaty. Her stepmother stood by the stove, exhaustion etched on her face, but the moment she heard Seulgi’s footsteps, she turned around.

– You’re home. Food’s on the table.

Seulgi nodded, kicked off her sneakers, and walked past, but suddenly stopped and quietly exhaled, “Thank you.”

Her stepmother froze, as if she didn’t immediately believe it. She turned slightly, frowning.

– What did you say?

Seulgi was already by the stairs.

– I… just thank you, – she said quickly, as if scared of her own words.

Her stepmother looked after her with confusion, some strange quiet worry in her eyes, then with a slight smile. But she said nothing.

---

In her room, Seulgi collapsed onto the bed without even taking off her backpack. The ceiling was too bright, annoyingly empty. Homework lay in a notebook nearby, but she didn’t even turn her head.

A sharp pain settled in her chest as if someone had placed a shard of glass inside. She pressed her palm to her heart. No, it wasn’t a heart attack — just pain, just the feeling that she was an outsider. Not just useless, unnecessary.

– You knew, Seulgi, – she whispered to herself, – you knew she would never look at you like she looks at him. He has everything. He’s one of them. And you’re nobody.

– Ugh, pathetic. Being jealous is just ridiculous. Who needs you?

The night passed without dreams. Morning greeted her with heavy legs and a weight in her chest. She looked in the mirror — dark circles under her eyes, dry lips, a gaunt face. She looked like she had survived a war. In some ways, she had.

“Pull yourself together,” she told her reflection. But her heart seemed to whisper something else:

“I’m tired…”

***

Fatigue never left Seulgi’s face. Her body ached as if someone had been beating her from the inside all night—or maybe it was just her thoughts. She left the house quietly, nodding a goodbye to her stepmother.

– Thanks for breakfast, – Seulgi mumbled, buttoning up her shirt collar.

Min froze, cup still in her hands.

– What?..” she asked, with a puzzled smile— almost like a child hearing “well done” for the first time.

Seulgi just snorted and disappeared behind the door. But behind her lingered not only the smell of coffee but also the faint echo of her words. For the second time. She had thanked her for the second time.

“Are you losing your mind, Seulgi?”

---

The schoolyard was crowded. Noise, chatter, morning gossip, and… someone’s scream. Seulgi turned the corner and saw three girls pinning one student against the wall. One held her wrists, another whispered something cutting right in her face, and the third stood guard. The girl’s eyes were wet.

– Hey! – Seulgi barked, rushing into the fight without thinking.

Like in an action movie, it happened fast: her foot knocked one girl down, the second managed to jump back but not without getting hit in the shoulder.

Seulgi grabbed the collar of the third girl and clenched her fist, ready to strike. At that moment, someone elbowed her in the side—she took the hit but didn’t stop.

– SEULGI! – a sharp voice cracked like a whip.

“No, not her.”

Seulgi froze halfway. Anger vibrated in her hands, but Jaeyi’s voice was stronger. She let go of the collar and pushed the girl away.

Jaeyi was already standing beside her, her eyes icy cold.

– You three — to the principal. Now. –  Without turning, she added, – Seulgi, with me.

Seulgi lowered her hands and followed.

Silence echoed louder than pain. The hallway seemed too long, the footsteps too loud. Inside, everything in Seulgi was boiling.

“If it had been anyone else, i wouldn’t have stopped… But it was her. And from day one—only her. I always hear only her voice. Even when i don’t want to. Especially when i don’t want to.”

Jaeyi opened the nurse’s office door and gently pushed Seulgi inside.

– Again? What this time? – the nurse sighed, not even surprised.

– Life hit me, – Seulgi muttered, sitting on the couch.

– More like you hit life, – the nurse cut in, handing over some antiseptic cotton.

Jaeyi leaned against the wall, her face like a statue, lips moving slightly:

– Why do you always go head-on? Can’t you just talk? Ask?

Seulgi snorted:

– Yeah, and then wait while she lectures about ‘the importance of kindness and patience’? No way.

Then, grumbling quietly almost to herself:

– Why didn’t you bring those three here?.. They got it worse, – her half-stubborn, half-pained smile appeared.

Jaeyi crossed her arms, slowly looking at her.

– Because they’re not as dumb as you, – she answered evenly. – And they had enough sense not to turn it into a bloody show.

A second of silence. Then, quieter, almost inaudible, with a hint of reproach:

– And you, it seems, have no survival instinct. Or you just like to suffer too much?

Seulgi turned away as if the words struck exactly the nerve that was already throbbing. The question hit too precisely… too close. For a moment, it seemed to her that there was not judgment but… concern in Jaeyi’s voice? Or maybe she was imagining it.

The nurse finished treating her and with a slight smile said:

– Try not to fight until next week. I’m not stocking bandages under your name.

---

Seulgi and Jaeyi left the room together. They walked down the hallway in silence. Seulgi was already plotting how to ditch the last class when her eyes caught a familiar figure.

Sonmin. And he was walking hand-in-hand with another boy. They were laughing—bright, genuine laughter. Something shifted in Seulgi’s chest.

– So he… – she started, motioning with her eyes.

– Yeah, he has a boyfriend, – Jaeyi replied calmly, not even slowing her pace. – Why do you ask?

Seulgi let out a short sound and then, unexpectedly, a smile broke across her face—real, inexplicable, amused.

– God, I’m such an idiot.

Jaeyi looked over at her, one eyebrow raised.

– What?

– Nothing… It’s just… sometimes I get jealous way too fast over people who don’t even have the slightest interest in me.

She gave a soft laugh, and her steps grew lighter. Jaeyi watched her for a moment, as if unsure whether to laugh along or be on guard. Seulgi suddenly winked at her.

– Don’t worry, President, I won’t get into any more fights. Well… at least not until lunch.

– Brilliant, – Jaeyi said coolly. – Now you just have to survive the rest of the day.

But at the corner of her mouth, something twitched—almost like a smile. Seulgi noticed it. And for some reason, her heart settled into a steadier rhythm. For the first time that morning, it didn’t hurt.

---

For the first time in a long while, Seulgi practically burst into the classroom before anyone else. She would never admit it, not even to herself, but it wasn’t an accident—her feet had carried her there as if they had their own agenda.

She sank into her usual seat by the window, ran her fingers across the windowsill—and oh God—smiled to herself. Not fake, not for show. Just… something inside suddenly felt a little lighter.

– Whoa, – came a voice from the side, and Seulgi nearly jumped.

Yeri, as always, had appeared out of nowhere like a ghost behind her, coffee cup in hand and wearing that signature smirk.

– Well, well. Someone’s in love? – she whispered, squinting mischievously. – You’re practically glowing. Don’t drink my coffee — i don’t want to catch whatever romance bug you’ve got.

Seulgi turned toward her, still smiling, but already a bit flustered.

– Shut up, Yeri.

– Come on, confess, – Yeri nudged her in the side. – Is this about Jaeyi?

– No!

– Uh-huh, sure, – Yeri dragged out the words, looking at Seulgi like she’d cracked her open to the molecular level. – Whatever. Just know this—you’re glowing. Like one of those new chandeliers they put up in the auditorium after cleaning day.

Seulgi rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched again. She turned to the window, just to make sure Yeri wouldn’t see her blush.

The classroom door opened.

Jaeyi walked in—back straight, eyes focused, radiating that quiet confidence. Student council president in full form.

But for a split second, her gaze swept across the room and… paused on Seulgi. Like she was searching for something—and found it. She looked just a beat longer than necessary. And right then, Yeri leaned in, the picture of innocence, and whispered:

– If she looked at me like that, I’d already be unconscious. You’re only still sitting because of sheer stubbornness and four doses of raw willpower in your bloodstream.

Seulgi flinched, feeling Yeri’s warm breath on her neck. Her cheeks betrayed her first—flushing bright red, all the way to her ears.

Her eyes darted to Jaeyi — who was still watching. And maybe, just maybe… that gaze had gotten a little more focused.

Seulgi dropped her head and muttered through clenched teeth:

– Are you trying to kill me?

– Only with happiness, babe, – Yeri chirped, completely unapologetic.

The teacher walked in moments later, and class began. Seulgi pretended to listen. Yeri kept whispering little jabs under her breath, each one like a needle to the ribs.

But Seulgi’s heart was pounding, and somehow, this ordinary, even boring school day suddenly felt like the most alive she’d been in a long time.

And it was all because of one smile… or a glance… or maybe — because of Jaeyi.

---

Seulgi POV

– Hey! – Yeri whispered while the teacher scribbled something anxiously on the board. – Are you seriously in love with her? – she asked, dead serious.

– No! – I answered way too fast.

She smirked.

– Noted: ‘Absolutely not in love.’ Seulgi, do you even hear yourself?

I shoved her shoulder.

– Look, she just… pisses me off, that’s all.

– Uh-huh. Especially when she’s standing right next to you, scolding you, and you’re staring at her like a love-struck lightbulb.

– Drop dead, Yeri.

She burst out laughing, and I turned back to the window, hiding my flaming face.

---

After first period, there was this weird feeling in the hallway... like someone had turned off the school’s built-in tension generator.

Jaeyi and Kyeong had left—"for a meeting,” as always. No clear return time, no promises to come back. They just disappeared. Like the entire structure of the school had gone with them, tucked under Jaeyi’s arm into the conference room.

I was sitting at my desk, staring out the window, poking the edge of my notebook with a pen.

– You look like someone stole your dog, – Yeri muttered lazily, chewing on a cookie.

– You’re the dog, – I muttered back — no venom, just reflex. – I’m just thinking.

– You don’t ever ‘just think.’ You’re either mad, bored, or both.

I sighed and leaned my cheek against my palm.

– Well, what if I miss someone who acts like I ruin the air they breathe?

Yeri raised an eyebrow.

– You miss Jaeyi?

– Me? – I scoffed. – No. I just… she kind of structures my life, okay? Without her, there’s too much freedom. It’s terrifying.

Yeri rolled her eyes so hard it was practically a performance.

– Got it. You’re addicted to discipline. You just haven’t admitted it to yourself yet.

---

**Lunch**

Kyeong and Jaeyi didn’t show up. Their table sat completely empty. Unheard of.

– No supervisors today — that means I can eat three pastries and no one will judge me, – Yeri sighed blissfully, piling an extra scoop of rice onto her tray. – Or drop the whole tray on the floor. Also without consequences.

– Yeah, feels like a vacation, – Seulgi muttered, staring gloomily at her curry. – Only… kinda tasteless.

They sat at their usual spot by the window. Every now and then, both of them would turn their heads in sync — as if on cue — checking the doorway for two familiar figures. Nothing.

– Maybe they’re on a secret mission, – Yeri offered. – Like, saving the school’s budget from collapse.

– Or maybe Jaeyi finally had a breakdown, and Kyeong’s holding her by the shoulders going, ‘You’ve got this.’

– Or the other way around — Kyeong staged a protest and locked herself in the janitor’s closet because she’s tired of being the great president’s shadow.

Seulgi suddenly laughed. It was clean, light.

– We’re definitely not okay if we’re actually missing the people who normally make our lives stricter than the military.

– Exactly, – Yeri leaned in and whispered,  – Which means we’re now… our own wardens. Let’s break some rules.

– Like what?

– Like your miserable mood. You coming with me after school?

– Where?

– The store, obviously. They’ve got new pendants and awesome broken-heart pins. Everything we need.

– Because my heart’s definitely cracked today, – Seulgi played along, grabbing her tray. – Fine, heal me with consumerism.

---

After school, they walked side by side under an umbrella.

Yeri’s umbrella was shaped like a strawberry — absurd, childish, perfect.

– If you were a character in a K-drama, – Yeri said,  – you’d be called *the rebel with a tender heart*.

– And you’d be *the silence-breaker*. Screenwriters would fear you, – Seulgi replied.

Yeri laughed and looped her arm through Seulgi’s.

– We really are in a series. If only someone filmed it.

– Only if they cast Jaeyi right. And she’d have to know how to give "that" look… —
Seulgi mimicked a cold, piercing gaze — but managed to load it with just enough longing to make it theatrical.

Yeri snorted with laughter.

– You’re so in love, – she whispered, smiling, not quite seriously.

Seulgi didn’t answer. She just bumped Yeri’s shoulder.

– Thanks, Yeri.

– For what?

– For not letting me lose my mind alone.

– Anytime. I’m a pro at "not letting people lose it."

---

The store was cozy — stuffed to the ceiling with cute and weird things.
Shelves overflowed with flashy keychains, notebooks with cat ears, and plushies with eyes bigger than anime characters. Everything sparkled, squeaked, blinked.

Yeri flitted from display to display like a child, trying on heart-shaped glasses.

Seulgi walked slower, lazily letting her eyes drift across the shelves — until she saw it.

Tucked between a plush penguin and a soft dachshund in a knitted sweater sat a small toy. No more than ten centimeters tall. A white teddy bear with perfect posture and a completely neutral expression. No smile, no frown. Just... calm with a hint of stern unreachability.

It was as if someone had sewn Jaeyi into fabric.

Seulgi froze. Reached for it. Picked it up. Turned it in her hands. The bear stared into the void with an expression that clearly said it had already judged your life choices.

– What’ve you got there? – Yeri peeked over her shoulder. – Oh my god. That’s so Jaeyi.

Seulgi jerked.

– No, it’s just a bear.

– A bear that silently disapproves of you. Yeah, sounds right. You buying it?

– No, –  Seulgi said instantly. Then, after a pause, muttered, – Well... it’s small. It'll fit in my pocket. No one’ll even know.

Yeri burst out laughing while Seulgi silently made her way to the register, holding the bear like a secret she hadn’t fully processed yet.

Outside the store, she tucked the plush into her hoodie pocket and never said another word about it. But for some reason, her steps felt lighter.

---

– Jaeyi will definitely be back tomorrow, – Seulgi said, like she was trying to convince herself.

– And Kyeong will bring her usual quiet judgment and a brand-new to-do list, – Yeri nodded. – Right on schedule.

– But for now... – Seulgi stretched out her arms, – ...we have freedom!

They looked at each other — and Yeri suddenly hugged her. Warm, soft, without warning.

– What’s this? – Seulgi mumbled, freezing in the hug.

– You’re too serious. Hugs are therapeutic.

– Hey, back off. One more hug and I’ll turn into a stuffed animal.

– That’s exactly what I dream of. Seulgi the Teddy Bear.

– Die, Yeri.

– Already did. From laughter.

They split off in different directions, still laughing.

And the rain, starting up again, didn’t feel quite so cold anymore.

***

Seulgi POV

Something had started to build between me and Jaeyi. Like every glance, every silent exchange in the hallway was stacking into some complicated shape I couldn’t decipher.

I still wanted to provoke her. To test her. To watch the way she rolled her eyes in that calm, restrained way. But now, when I caught myself searching for her in a crowd, when the urge to fight started fading — that scared me.

I started showing up to school more often. On time, even. Yeri noticed it first, and kept teasing me about it.

But deep down... I was afraid. Because when you let someone in — you lose control. And control was all I had. After the orphanage, after a life where survival meant trusting no one but yourself — it was too much.

---

The disciplinary committee meeting was tense. I knew I’d be called out again. Too many incidents lately. But this time... something was different.

Jaeyi looked irritated from the moment it started. Not calm — irritated. Her fingers tapped on the table a bit faster than usual. Her voice wasn’t just cold — it was sharp, barely-contained anger.

– Seulgi, – she started, – How many times do I have to tell you that school is not your personal boxing ring?

I rolled my eyes.

– Maybe it wouldn’t be, if it weren’t a shelter for scumbags.

She stood up. Fast. For the first time, her voice rose — loud and furious:

– That’s not an excuse! You think just because you had a hard past, you get a free pass for everything? You keep acting like you’re above the rules, above people. You behave like a wild animal, and I’m done protecting you!

I flinched. That hit harder than any punch ever had. The room went dead quiet.

– I didn’t ask you to protect me… – I murmured.

She didn’t meet my eyes.

– Exactly. Because you don’t care about consequences. Like nothing ever touches you. But you know what? Sometimes I think you want to get beaten again. Because you don’t know how else to live.

I froze. Those words... sliced right into my ribs. She’d hit somewhere no one was supposed to reach.

– Got it. Please don’t say another word. –
I turned and left. Hard. Final.

Not another word.

---

That evening, I wandered the school grounds. My feet took me — without thinking — to a hidden spot behind the gym.

Behind the trees, I heard voices. Familiar ones. Upperclass girls. The same ones who always loved gossip.

– Yoo Jaeyi playing ice queen again? So perfect. So untouchable.

– I heard her sister’s in a psych ward. Jenna, I think. With a family like that — no surprise.

– Do you think she even feels anything? She’s just her daddy’s little puppet.

– Wouldn’t be shocked if the only reason she’s still in this school is because her dad’s the top donor.

The world started blurring in my head. The words melted into a hum — like i was back in the orphanage. In those dark hallways. When the older kids beat me for defending a girl they’d kicked to the ground.

I wrapped my arms around myself.
My heart pounded so hard I felt it in my ears.

“That’s it, Yoo Jaeyi,” I whispered into the emptiness.
“I get it now.”

And I stepped forward.
Eyes burning again — but not for me, for her.

Chapter Text

Seulgi POV

I stood in the shadow behind the gym, fists clenched so tight my knuckles had turned white. Their voices echoed like distant thunder. I couldn’t hear words anymore—only the rhythm of pain. I wasn’t breathing. Everything inside me was boiling.

Then one of the girls let out a mocking laugh and said loud enough for it to sting:

– What, does she think pretending to be perfect hides the rot underneath?

I stepped out of the shadows.

– Say that again.

My voice was calm. Too calm. They turned. Four of them. The same senior girls who loved tormenting underclassmen and stealing their uniforms. Fake queens of the schoolyard.

– Oh, look, it’s Seulgi. Jaeyi’s loyal little mutt. Came to defend your owner?

– No, – I said, stepping closer. – I came to break your jaw if you don’t shut the hell up. Last warning.

They didn’t listen.

---

From third person

The first strike came hard and fast.

Seulgi lunged forward and drove her elbow straight into the girl’s nose. A sharp crack echoed. Blood exploded across her face. Not broken—yet—but close.

The second girl jumped back, fumbling for her phone, but Seulgi’s knee hit her gut before she could even unlock the screen. As the girl doubled over, Seulgi caught her head and slammed it down onto her own rising knee. A sickening thud—and she dropped.

– Are you insane? – the third girl shrieked.

She swung for Seulgi’s face, but Seulgi deflected the blow with a sweep of her arm and landed a punch square in the girl’s throat. Not deadly—but enough to make her choke and stagger back, gasping.

Silence followed. Blood hit the floor. One girl was crying, another groaning, the third swaying on her feet.

Seulgi stood in the middle of it all. Shoulders heaving. Her face shadowed. Her knuckles streaked with mascara and blood.

Then a voice rang out—

– Grab her!

And something heavy slammed into her ribs. A kick? A stone? She didn’t see. She stumbled.

They’d called in backup. A crowd of guys and girls.

“Perfect,” Seulgi thought bitterly.

She straightened. She didn’t run, didn’t beg, just waited.

The second hit came—a punch to the side of her head. It knocked her sideways. The third—hard into her stomach. Her knees buckled. Another kick—right to the ribs.

A dull crack. Pain burst like fire inside her. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t respond.

Screaming. Blows. The metallic taste of blood. She kept falling and getting up. Again and again.

She didn’t know how long it went on. She just kept fighting. Kept surviving. Her mind blurred into flashes of memory.

The orphanage. The darkness. Blood on her hands. A little girl she couldn’t save. A caretaker screaming:

“No one wants you!”

They brought her down.

A boot smashed into her side—so sharp, so final, she screamed.

Someone grabbed her hoodie and punched her in the face. Her cheek split open. Blood spilled fast.

And Jaeyi’s voice rang in her head:

“You act like a wild animal. I’m tired of protecting you.”

Another blow to the ribs. Another crack.

She folded over, choking. Eyes wide in agony.

"I couldn’t breathe. The world tilted under me like it was about to give way. For one horrible second, I was a child again—small, alone, and losing all over again.

Somewhere deep inside me, through the chaos and pain, a name floated to the surface: " Jaeyi..."

I didn’t know why it was her. But she was all I could hold onto.

The darkness closed in. My ribs—god, I could feel it. Cracked. Maybe broken. It was like the bones had turned into glass shards, stabbing outward from the inside.

Then I felt it.

Warmth. At first, it was just a flicker—like someone had spilled hot tea under my shirt. Then it spread, sticky, wet, burning. Blood...

It was mine. Running out from under my ribs, thick and hot, sliding over my skin, soaking my clothes.

My fingers scraped at the ground. I was trying to push myself up.

No. Not like this. I won’t lose like this.

I wanted to stop the bleeding. I wanted to move. But my hands wouldn’t obey. My brain was yelling "get up", "move", "fight back"—but pain swallowed every command before it reached my body.

Each breath dragged the shattered edges of bone deeper inside me. I could feel them grind.

Everything started shrinking. Like the world was folding in on itself.

Voices blurred. Footsteps scattered. The sound of someone shouting—

– Hey! Teachers are coming!

And just like that, they all vanished, running, laughing, panicking, whispering.

I was left behind. Broken. Bleeding into the dirt.

Then—hands. Cold on my skin. Voices, too close. Too loud.

And one I knew.

I didn’t want to hear her. Not now. Please, not now.

– God… What did you do, Seulgi…

Jaeyi’s voice. Still calm. Still like ice.
But underneath it—I heard something real - fear.

They started lifting me.

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t.

But I smiled. Just a little. My mouth full of blood.

– See? – I whispered. – You were right… I’m still here just to be beaten.

And then — Darkness."

***

– I understand. Please don’t say another word.

Seulgi’s voice was flat and hollow, like the last page of a book slammed shut—clouded in dust and pain. Jaeyi didn’t speak. She wanted to. She always had something to say. But this time, something inside her shrank, and the words never came.

Seulgi walked away, and Jaeyi stayed behind.

She sat alone, staring out the window where heavy clouds drifted slowly by, mirroring her state of mind. Her fingers idly fidgeted with the sleeve of her uniform. Everything felt… wrong. She thought she knew how to act. Thought she knew Seulgi—her jabs, her jokes, her sighs. But not that look. Not that voice.

“Why did those words make me feel so cold?” she wondered.

Time crawled like thick syrup. Light shifted outside, and inside her mind, the same question looped endlessly—why? She replayed every step, every word, every second of the fight, and the further she went, the more it became clear—she didn’t know why it hurt so much.

The door burst open.

– President! –a breathless student stumbled in, eyes wide. – Out—outside… There’s a fight! But it’s not her this time!

Jaeyi shot to her feet. “What do you mean, not her?”

– It’s a group! Ganging up on one person. And it’s—It’s Seulgi!

She didn’t wait. She flew down the hallway like a storm. Teachers behind her. Someone yelling for security. Voices turned to static, and her heartbeat pounded like a drum in her throat.

– I don’t get it,” one of the teachers muttered. “She’s usually the one starting trouble…

– This wasn’t trouble. This was a setup. All of them at once. It was brutal.

– President, we need to contact a guardian.

---

Jaeyi stormed onto the courtyard and froze.

Seulgi was on the ground. Her hoodie torn, blood streaking her temple. Someone was trying to wake her up. Around them, shadows scattered—the crowd of attackers vanishing, and teachers already shouting, grabbing wrists.

Everything inside Jaeyi clenched. She dropped to her knees, trembling fingers brushing blood-matted strands from Seulgi’s forehead.

– Seulgi… Hey… Hey!–  she could barely breathe.

– Call an ambulance! –  she screamed—and for the first time in forever, her voice wasn’t cold, but raw and breaking.

When Seulgi groaned, barely moving her lips, Jaeyi closed her eyes. It wasn’t fear. It was worse. It was a feeling she didn’t recognize.

– Shit, –  Jaeyi whispered. – What did you do, Seulgi…

When they lifted her onto the stretcher, Seulgi didn’t look at her. She just gave a weak, bloody smile and whispered:

– See? You were right… I’m still alive just to be beaten.

And then she passed out again.

---

Jaeyi stood still, watching as the paramedics gently placed Seulgi on the stretcher. Chaos swirled around her—teachers shouting, phones recording, gasps and murmurs from bystanders. But Jaeyi didn’t move.

She could hear her own heart pounding in her ears. But her face remained composed—wearing the mask she’d learned to keep on.

– I’m going with her, – she told the medic.

– Yoo Jaeyi? Of course. Please, this way. – They recognized her. Everyone did. Everyone knew who her father was.

Inside the ambulance, the air was cool and clinical. Seulgi lay with her eyes closed, her face pale from pain and exhaustion. Blood marked her cheek, and a bruise was already forming under one eye. Her breathing was steady—but weak.

And then… a tiny plush toy fell out of her hoodie pocket. A battered little teddy bear.

Jaeyi quietly reached down and picked it up, holding it in her hand.

It smelled like Seulgi. Like stubbornness, and grass, and something soft and childlike. A hidden tenderness she never let anyone see.

“Idiot,” Jaeyi thought. “You always fought back. You never let them get to you. Why today?”

She stared at Seulgi’s face. The bruises. The blood. The dirt. And no matter how calm her breathing seemed—Jaeyi knew something was different. Something had gone too far.

The rage rose in her like boiling water. At Seulgi. At herself. At the ones who did this. And they’d pay. She’d make sure of it.

“I told you. I warned you. You only ever hear me. So why didn’t you hear me this time?”

She sat there, never taking her eyes off her. Clutching the little bear so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Outside—city, people, school. Inside—sirens, silence, a racing heart.

And Seulgi. Bruised and broken. And somehow still… important.

Too important.

More than Jaeyi wanted to admit.

***

**At the Hospital (Seulgi’s Room)**

– She has a closed fracture of the eighth rib on the right side, plus a deep contused laceration in the same area—probably from hitting a sharp rock, – the doctor explained, looking at Jaeyi over the top of his glasses. – No internal bleeding, the lung isn’t punctured, but there is a mild concussion. She may experience temporary memory loss. We’ve got her on strong analgesics. Her condition is stable, but she’ll need rest.

– When will she wake up? – Jaeyi asked quietly.

– Within the hour. But she may be disoriented.

---

The room was quiet, sterile, filled with the soft hum of machines and the faint rhythm of the IV drip. Jaeyi sat beside the bed, still holding the small, ragged teddy bear that had fallen from Seulgi’s hoodie.

Her thoughts spiraled, looping back to the fight, Seulgi’s voice, that look in her eyes…

Seulgi stirred. Her eyes fluttered open—clouded, unfocused. She blinked slowly, squinting at Jaeyi.

– …Angel? Did I die?

Before Jaeyi could respond, Seulgi reached out with a trembling hand and brushed her cheek. Then, like a child, she cupped Jaeyi’s hand in both of hers and pressed it to her face. Her eyes closed. A faint, sleepy smile touched her lips.

– So pretty… – she mumbled, and drifted back to sleep.

Jaeyi didn’t move. Her heart pounded wildly. No one had ever touched her like that—soft, trusting. Her face flushed. She quickly looked away—but she couldn’t pull her hand free.

She didn’t know how long she sat there. Her hand burned. Her cheek still felt the ghost of Seulgi’s warmth. Her heartbeat had changed—no longer frantic, but painfully steady. She wanted to smooth the line on Seulgi’s forehead, tuck the hair behind her ear… but she wouldn’t let herself.

" Why are you holding my hand like this when you’re barely alive? Why are you making me… feel like this? she thought, eyes dropping."

At that moment, the door burst open. Yeri was first, with Kyeong right behind her. Yeri’s eyes widened at the scene.

– Ohooo, what’s this? I always suspected you were secretly a romantic, Jaeyi, but this? Bold.

Kyeong snorted with laughter.

– Jaeyi… you’re blushing.

– She won’t let go of my hand, – Jaeyi said calmly. Her voice was softer than usual. – I tried a few times.

– Of course she won’t, – Yeri scoffed. – If I woke up and saw you by my bed, I wouldn’t let go either. Premium bedside service.

– Looks like the patient’s smarter than all of us,–  Kyeong quipped. – Think we can get the hospital to cover the class president under emotional emergency benefits?

– Luxury-tier psychological support package? – Yeri smirked.

– Enough, – Jaeyi said sharply, though her eyes never left Seulgi. – She needs rest.

– And what about you, President? – Kyeong asked quietly, stepping closer. – Because you look like you’re either about to cry… or murder someone.

– It’s my duty, – Jaeyi replied, voice steely.

– Keep telling yourself that, – Yeri muttered, chuckling.

– Are you two planning to stand here all night?

– What, and miss the emotional drama? – Yeri leaned in, grinning. – We can help keep morale up. Word game? Last letter challenge? Duty.

– Get lost, – Jaeyi said without raising her voice.

– Food, – Kyeong added, smirking. – Because clearly, you need to eat something.

They didn’t leave. One dropped into a chair. Another leaned against the wall.

Conversation died down. Only the IV drip clicked softly.

And Seulgi’s warm hand still held Jaeyi’s. And Jaeyi—despite everything—never pulled away.

***

From Seulgi's POV

When I woke up, the ceiling was white. Blindingly white. And breathing hurt.

Not “slightly uncomfortable,” not “a bit of a sting.” No—"hurt", like every breath scraped me raw from the inside. Like there was shrapnel living under my skin. I tried to move—a mistake. The world immediately tilted, went dark at the edges, nausea rising in my throat.

My head was buzzing. A low electric hum pounding behind my skull like someone was running wires through it.

“Concussion,” came a memory, in the voice of the doctor. “Fractured rib, deep cut on the side, mild concussion. Lucky your lung wasn’t punctured.”

Yeah, luck and I have always had a complicated relationship.

The room was empty. Just the steady hum of the hallway, the IV beside me, an oxygen tube, and bandages across my stomach. I managed to sit up, bracing on my elbows. My whole body felt like it was made of glass.

– Lovely, – I croaked. – Still alive.

And then the door burst open—with just the right amount of drama to be Yeri.

– Our very own Supergirl wakes, – she said with a squint. – I figured you’d at least fall into a coma for a couple days to get a discount on your hospital bill.

I tried to smirk. It came out more like a whimper.

– Don’t start. I can barely breathe.

– Then don’t breathe loud, – Yeri said, settling onto the edge of the bed and eyeing me carefully. – What the hell were you thinking? Besides getting yourself a minor concussion, obviously.

I leaned back on the pillow and closed my eyes. No point in dodging her.

– They were talking about Jaeyi… – I mumbled. – I… snapped.

– You broke one’s nose, bruised another’s kidneys, and almost flung the third into a wall. That’s not “snapping.” That’s Fight Club: Lite Edition.

– It was an act of civil disobedience, – I whispered with mock solemnity.

– It was an act of pure idiocy, – Yeri sighed. – Seriously, you could’ve died. If they’d hit you harder, you might’ve had internal bleeding. Do you have any idea how scared Jaeyi was?

I raised an eyebrow.

– She… was scared?

– Well, she didn’t cry or anything. But her voice cracked. And for her, that’s basically a full-blown panic attack.

I let out a weak laugh—and immediately clutched my side. Laughter turned to pain real quick.

– Stop, – I groaned. – No jokes. I’ve got stitches, not a six-pack.

Yeri leaned forward, resting her hand on my leg, face suddenly serious.

– I get why you did it. I really do. But… Seulgi, you’re not alone anymore. This isn’t the shelter. You don’t have to fight for your life in every hallway.

I looked out the window. The light was dull, the day gray. But at least it was a day.

– What if I don’t know how to live any other way?

– Then you learn, – Yeri said gently. – And you start by not leaping out of bed before you're cleared. The doctor said if you try anything stupid again, he’ll personally put a cast on your head.

– Sweet of him. – I winced as I tried to lie back down again. – Painful, but sweet.

Yeri stood, checked the IV like she knew what she was doing—more likely playing nurse than actually being helpful.

– I brought you juice. No sugar. Because you were almost in a coma for a day, not on vacation.

I squinted at her through half-lidded eyes.

– Yeri…

– Hm?

– Thanks. For not letting me spiral alone.

She plopped back into the chair and rolled her eyes.

– Someone’s gotta do the dirty work.

---

**From third person**

The day was gray but warm. Soft light filtered in through the hospital room window, as if the world itself had decided to speak a little more quietly. Yeri sat in the corner, scrolling through her phone, glancing occasionally at Seulgi, who was drinking water through a straw like it was a survival test.

When a knock came at the door, both girls turned. A woman stepped in—polished, restrained coat, tired eyes that immediately zeroed in on one thing: Seulgi.

– Hi, – the woman said, unsure. – I… hope it’s okay?

Seulgi froze. The sip of water caught in her throat. Yeri glanced at her, questioning, but Seulgi just nodded slowly and set the cup aside.

– Mina, – the woman introduced herself, stepping closer. – Yoo Mina. I… I’m Seulgi’s stepmother.

Yeri blinked and stood.

– Yeri. Friend. Temporary nurse, emotional bodyguard, on-call sarcasm provider. – She smiled and shifted toward the window. – I’ll give you two some time.

– You can stay, – Seulgi said unexpectedly. Her voice was quiet but steady. Yeri paused mid-step while Mina took the seat next to the bed.

– How are you feeling? – Mina asked softly. Her voice carried no force, no pressure. She looked at Seulgi like she was afraid to look too hard.

– Better than yesterday, – Seulgi shrugged, wincing slightly. – Doctors say I’ll live. Again.

– That’s good, – Mina nodded. – I was really worried. When the school called me…

She trailed off, wringing her hands together. The silence hung for a beat.

– I’m fine, – Seulgi said, not harshly, just controlled. Like someone who’d kept the door in her chest locked for so long that even having the key didn’t help much.

– I’m glad. Really, – Mina leaned forward. – I’m not here to force you to talk. I just… wanted you to know I care.

Yeri glanced at Seulgi, who kept her gaze on the window. After a long pause, she finally said quietly:

– I know.

Mina didn’t smile, didn’t bask in the moment. She just breathed deeper. That was enough for her.

– Can I bring you anything? – she asked, carefully.

– Only if it’s pizza and doesn’t have pineapple, – Seulgi muttered.

Mina gave a soft, almost grateful chuckle.

– Noted.

Yeri watched them like she was front-row at a rare play. The silence between them wasn’t empty—it was cautious, like two people relearning how to talk without armor.

– Well then, – Mina said, rising. – I won’t keep you. I just wanted…

– I get it, – Seulgi cut in. Her voice wasn’t sharp. Just tired. Cautious.

Mina nodded and stepped toward the door. At the threshold, she paused and added quietly:

– I don’t know when you’ll want to talk again. Or if you ever will. But… I’ll be around. Just so you know.

Seulgi didn’t reply. Just nodded—barely, but she did.

When the door clicked shut, Yeri whispered:

– That was… surprisingly gentle.

– I don’t know how to do “mom,” – Seulgi muttered, pressing an ice pack to her side. – Not even the unofficial version.

– Well, you didn’t tell her to leave, so that’s progress. Next level: hugs. In like… a year.

Seulgi grimaced, but her lips tugged into a faint smile.

– Don’t rush me. I’ve already hit my daily limit of social tolerance.

– And you crushed it, – Yeri nodded. – Ice, bruises, trauma… and a stepmom drop-in. I’d be demanding chocolate and a therapist.

Seulgi closed her eyes.

– Just bring me tea, please. And don’t talk to me for the next thirty minutes.

– Yes, Your Frozen Highness.

---

Yeri reappeared fifteen minutes later like clockwork, holding a mug that smelled of honey and lemon.

– Order number one: calming tea blend, with a hint of “don’t-murder-anyone.” Sprinkled with concern.

Seulgi pushed herself up on one elbow with effort.

– Did you check for poison?

– I was saving that for round two—if you started getting difficult again, – Yeri grinned. – This one’s safe. Drink up.

Seulgi took the mug, sipped, then frowned—not at the taste, but at Yeri’s face.

– What?

Yeri bit her lip, then finally sat closer.

– They were punished. The ones who did this to you.

Seulgi stared at her, unblinking. Didn’t say a word. Just tightened her grip on the mug.

– Who?

– Six of them. One’s being transferred, three suspended, two pulled by their parents to avoid the scandal. And… – Yeri hesitated. – Jaeyi was at the board meeting. I heard her. She made it happen.

Seulgi looked away. Something clenched inside her.

– Why?

Yeri shrugged.

– Maybe because you still matter to her. Maybe because she just couldn’t let it go. I don’t know. But… she did it. For you.

Seulgi looked down at her tea. Steam curled up lazily. She held the mug like it was an anchor.

– I don’t know how to feel about that.

– You don’t have to. Just let it be. There’s no rule for what you should feel. It’s fine.

---

The hospital room was quiet that night. A sliver of hallway light stretched across the floor, casting the long shadow of someone standing at the foot of Seulgi’s bed. The door creaked—someone had slipped in.

Seulgi didn’t open her eyes, but she listened.

Soft footsteps. Faint perfume—familiar. Too familiar.

Jaeyi.

She stopped by the bed, probably thinking Seulgi was asleep. Seulgi lay still, breathing evenly, trying not to give herself away. But inside, thoughts churned.

“Will she say anything or just walk away?” Seulgi wondered, unmoving.

– They’ve been punished, – Jaeyi said quietly, her voice almost detached. – I… made sure of it. And what I said to you… I crossed the line. The principal had already drafted your expulsion letter. Everything was ready. But I stopped it. – Her tone was flat, almost clinical.

– It was my responsibility, – she added, like she was justifying it—but more to herself than to Seulgi.

Seulgi slowly opened her eyes and turned her head.

– Hey there, Night Fairy of Discipline, – she murmured, meeting Jaeyi’s eyes with dry irony.

Jaeyi sighed and shook her head slightly.

– You really never say the right thing.

– I specialize in pissing people off for fun, – Seulgi smirked. It’s in my skillset.

They fell silent. The quiet stretched between them until Seulgi finally shifted her gaze somewhere just above Jaeyi’s head, speaking evenly:

– You were right. – Her voice was calm but clear, like lightning breaking through still air. – Everything you said that day, I heard you. And… I’m sorry. For making you always protect me. For making you fix the mess with my expulsion. And for all the crap I pull. So yeah. That’s that.

Jaeyi gave a slow nod, eyes not meeting hers. Her face was still, cold as ever—but tension pulsed just beneath, like a tremor in her temple.

Seulgi let out a heavy sigh—the kind that makes just a bit more room inside when pain has been the only thing taking up space.

– I don’t know how to find the right words to say thank you… for making sure the ones who beat me got punished. I don’t even know what to say about the fact that they… – She bit her lip and glanced around, as if searching for some hidden ledge on the wall to stare at, just to avoid looking into anyone’s eyes. – They got what they deserved. Thanks to you. And I… I can’t say it feels fair. But I’m ashamed I couldn’t protect myself. That I lost the fight. – She muttered the last part.

Jaeyi shook her head.

– Justice is a dangerous word. Sometimes all you need is the strength not to look away. I just stopped looking away.

Seulgi tried to smile, but it came out more crooked than warm.

– So I really was ‘above the rules,’ like you said?

– You were just too good at hiding the pain, – Jaeyi replied coldly. – That’s what scared everyone the most.

Silence settled again, but this time it didn’t weigh down on them—it was like a quiet current of understanding passed between them.

– I… – Seulgi exhaled deeply, letting go of the edge of her mug. – I’m used to saying what I think without thinking about the consequences. Waking up with no hope that someone will have my back… And then I find out there’s someone behind me, ready to act when I’m not even awake. Even if it’s ‘just duty.’

– It’s not just ‘duty,’ Jaeyi said sharply, turning fully toward Seulgi.

– I couldn’t look at you, knowing people were trying to get you expelled, and just… do nothing.

– I know, – Seulgi said softly. – I know you didn’t do it because you care. You did it because you couldn’t not do it.

Jaeyi turned away, pretending to check something on the bedside table.

– Don’t put feelings on me I don’t have. I did what needed to be done. Nothing more.

– I get it. You didn’t have to stay, – Seulgi said, staring at the ceiling. – I wouldn’t have, if I were you.

– That’s why you’re always alone, – Jaeyi replied calmly.

– Fair, – Seulgi smirked. – But thanks for staying. Even if it was just part of the job.

A soft pause followed her words. They just looked at each other, and the silence no longer cut—it comforted.

– You know, – Seulgi said with a faint smile, tipping her mug, – if you had left, I probably would’ve written a poem about your ‘righteous coldness.’

Jaeyi only scoffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile.

– Spare me the poetry. I can take criticism, but not in verse.

– Alright, – Seulgi looked toward the door. – Just don’t expect me to become a model student after all this.

– I don’t expect anything from you, – Jaeyi replied, her voice slightly warmer, though still dulled by the weight of everything. – Except to be yourself. And stay out of trouble. The rest… it’ll come.

Seulgi shifted slightly on the pillow and squinted at Jaeyi.

– By the way… what are you even doing here? I mean, in the room. At this hour. You’re not a night nurse.

Jaeyi didn’t answer right away. She looked down at her hands, laced her fingers together.

– Skateboarding, – she finally said, dryly.

– I’m sorry… what?

– Skateboarding, – Jaeyi repeated with the same deadpan tone, like she was announcing the weather.

Seulgi raised an eyebrow.

– And on your way to the skate park, you just happened to swing by the hospital? Like, ‘Oh look, Seulgi’s unconscious in here, how convenient’?

– You’re not unconscious. You’re being sarcastic—so clearly, you’re nearly healed, – Jaeyi shot back. – I was just… skating. Needed to air out my thoughts. It was stuffy.

– Never thought you were the ‘air out thoughts’ type. More like the ‘jar them, seal the lid tight, and shove them on the ‘not now’ shelf’ type.

Jaeyi smirked for a brief second. Just a flicker. Then the restraint returned.

– Even I breathe sometimes. Deeply. When no one’s looking.

– That’s almost romantic drama levels. ‘Girl in the shadows. One skateboard. One night. One hospital visit.’

– You’re impossible, –  Jaeyi muttered.

Seulgi smiled slightly.

– I know. But seriously… I’m glad you came. Even if it was just a pit stop between a pirouette and a scar.

– I don’t do pirouettes. I jump,” Jae corrected, staring out the window. – But yeah. You acted like you knew I’d show up.

Seulgi snorted and leaned back on her pillow.

– I feel you, Jaeyi. Like a draft—cold, sure, but it clears the air. Even if it gives me chills.

Jaeyi didn’t answer. Just gave a slight shake of her head. But something shifted in her eyes. Not a smile. But almost. The silence that filled the room wasn’t tense—it was the comfortable kind.

– You’re weird, Seulgi, – she said quietly.

– And that’s exactly how I ruin everyone’s life around me. You have no idea how much joy that brings me.

– Good night, – Jaeyi said, a touch softer than usual, and turned toward the door.

– Hey, if you go skating again—bring me a donut. You’re on a mission to ‘accidentally’ run into me, right?

– I’ll think about it, – Jae said, not looking back.

– I can already see you planning your route, – Seulgi smirked and closed her eyes again—but this time, with warmth in her chest.

Jaeyi left, the door creaking softly behind her. And with her, she left behind just enough warmth for Seulgi to feel a little lighter.

The hospital room filled with quiet stillness. When the door clicked shut, Seulgi exhaled softly and pressed her palm to her chest, feeling her heartbeat finally slow.

Outside, Jaeyi paused for a moment, as if unsure she’d heard what she thought she had. Finally, she closed her eyes slightly and lowered her shoulders—a sign that the ice shell had begun to crack.

Her gaze held no blame, no resentment. Just quiet acceptance, and a flicker of something like regret.

She raised her head and stood still for a few more seconds, listening to the ghost of Seulgi’s words. Then her expression shifted—just slightly—into something rarely seen: softness.

– …Thank you… for being honest, – she whispered, fingers brushing the doorknob gently before slipping away into the hallway, leaving behind the last trace of warmth.

Seulgi smiled to herself, eyes still closed, and let herself sink back into the pillows with a relieved sigh.

---

**School**

Jaeyi stood at her locker, fiddling with a tiny toy—a miniature plush bear. For some reason, she couldn’t bring herself to give it to Seulgi last night.

Now it sat in her palm like it was trying to whisper something. Or judge her. Or maybe it was just fabric and stuffing. But it smelled faintly of strawberry lotion, and that annoyed her.

She walked up to Yeri, who was popping a juice ball in her mouth and chewing gum like she was born for both.

Jaeyi silently handed her the toy.

– This, – she said, looking off to the side, – fell out of Seulgi’s stuff. Just… Can you give it back?

Yeri squinted at the bear, then at Jae, then back at the bear. And suddenly smirked.

– Oh yeah, she bought this recently, – she said, – Told me it reminded her of you.

Jaeyi blinked.

– Me?

Yeri chuckled.

– Yeah. Small, a little scuffed up, and has that ‘don’t touch me, I bite, but I’ll still hug you’ look. Totally you.

Jaeyi flushed a little and bit her lip but said nothing.

– You know what? – Yeri added. – I’m not giving it back. You give it to her. You brought it. It’s, like… caring or whatever. A gift from the ‘cold shadow,’ right?

She patted Jae on the shoulder and walked off toward class, leaving her behind with the toy in hand and a desperate need to disappear into the floor.

---

At lunch, the three of them—Yeri, Kyeong, and Jaeyi—sat together. Sunlight poured in through the murky school windows. Yeri’s dessert wobbled delicately on her tray as she ignored it in favor of teasing.

– So, you’re visiting Seulgi in her hospital room at night, – Yeri drawled, smoothing out her napkin. – Straight out of a witch’s schedule?

– A caring witch, – Kyeong corrected with a nod. – One who throws icy sarcasm in your face, then shows up with tea.

Jaeyi rolled her eyes.

– I was just checking in. Seeing how her recovery’s going.

– Sure, – Yeri said, poking her noodles lazily. – Checking to make sure she didn’t forget you yelled at her in the hallway before the fight. Did you bring tea or a lecture?

– She was asleep, – Jaeyi snapped. – ..almost. And you guys are acting like—

– Friends? – Kyeong offered innocently.

– Idiots, – Jaeyi finished, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

They all giggled.

– You’ve changed, – Jaeyi suddenly said, looking at Kyeong. – You’re… snarkier. Or maybe you were always like this, and I just didn’t notice before.

Kyeong smirked.

– Maybe you changed. And now you do notice.

Yeri leaned back in her chair.

– Oooh, here comes the meta-philosophy. Who’s influencing who? Or is this the mysterious aura of Seulgi at work?

– Stronger than cherry pit tea, – Kyeong said.

Jaeyi nodded.

– I wouldn’t be surprised if she really cast a spell on all of us.

– Her magic is just being herself, – Yeri declared dramatically. – And you, Jaeyi, are under her spell.

– You watch too many dramas, – Jaeyi muttered—but her eyes had softened.

And the little bear tucked in her backpack, somehow, seemed to smile.

Chapter Text

Day three in the hospital started with a dull, dragging pain in her side.

Seulgi didn’t wake from the pain though—it was boredom. Sterile, clinical, suffocating emptiness. The room was bright. Sunlight glinted off the smooth surface of the nightstand. The air smelled of antiseptic and something minty.

— You're healing well, — said the doctor that morning. Tall, unhurried. — The fracture in your eighth rib will mend without complications. The wound, though—that was deep. The stitches are holding, but you really can’t be making any sudden moves. Strict bed rest for at least a couple more days. After that, gentle walks.

He glanced at her chart, frowning slightly.

— We didn’t just stitch skin. The tissue damage went nearly down to the periosteum. This wasn’t a scratch. Considering the mild concussion, too—you absolutely have to avoid stress.

Seulgi gave a dry smile.

— It’s just me and four white walls. What could possibly be less stressful?

The doctor peered at her over his glasses.

— Sarcasm won’t help if those stitches tear.

---

Left alone, she stared at the white ceiling and remembered.

The first time she opened her eyes… haze, heaviness.
Jaeyi was there beside her, and for a moment—she didn’t seem real. Too beautiful. Eyes sharp but… tired. Raw.

Seulgi hadn’t known what was happening. Everything swam. She honestly thought she might be dead. Or dreaming.

— An angel?.. Am I dead?.. — she had whispered, and instinctively pulled Jaeyi’s hand to her cheek, pressing it between her palms. And then drifted off again, as if that touch alone could soothe the pain.

She still didn’t know if that moment was real or not. But her skin remembered. And if it was real… wouldn’t Jaeyi have pulled her hand away?

---

Yeri visited every day. Brought apple juice and dumb magazines.
They laughed, even when Seulgi winced from it—especially when Yeri read out headlines like she was on stage. It helped.

But by the end of the third day, the boredom was unbearable.

— These same damn walls. If I don’t get out of here, I’m gonna lose it, — Seulgi muttered, and pushed herself up. Ignoring the sharp protest in her body. Her legs held. Barely.

With one hand on the rail, she moved down the hall.

Her chest prickled—either from the effort or from a strange feeling she couldn’t name. When she rounded a corner, a voice stopped her.

Peeking from behind a divider, she saw Jaeyi. Standing with her hands behind her back, looking off into the distance.
Across from her stood a tall man in a doctor’s badge: Dr. Yoo Taejoon. His face was cut from marble—no hint of doubt, no softness.

Seulgi froze, hidden.

His voice was clipped, restrained—but every word was steel.

— You were scheduled to prep for the conference, — he said coldly. — Why weren’t you in the lecture hall?

— I finished the program in advance, — Jaeyi replied, precise and calm. — I gave the materials to the coordinator yesterday. The team proceeded without me, as planned.

No emotion. No excuses. Every word rehearsed, polished. Like a performance in front of a mirror.

— Three nights ago, you came home past midnight, — he continued. — No warning. Where were you?

A pause. Jaeyi didn’t even blink.

— I stayed late at the library with Kyeong. Finalizing our legal competition brief. I knew you’d want results, not explanations. So I didn’t check my phone.

Dr. Yoo nodded. Slowly. Almost approvingly.

— That’s how it should be. Keep it up. You must be perfect. Always.

— Yes, Father.

Seulgi exhaled, not realizing she’d been holding her breath.

She wasn’t sure what hit harder: Jaeyi’s icy composure… or how flawlessly she lied. No tremor in her voice. No shift in posture. Nothing.

“She just... says what he wants to hear. Perfectly. Like flipping a switch. This isn’t a conversation. It’s a game. And she’s mastered it.”

Seulgi stepped back. Her heart pounded in her ears.

She meant to turn away—but the sudden twist triggered a stab in her side. She doubled over, clutching the wound. Heat spread beneath her gown. The stitches.

— Shit...

---

**Later, in the treatment room**

— The surface layer of the suture tore, — the doctor muttered, disinfecting the wound. — Luckily, it didn’t go deeper. One more inch and we’d be restitching internally. Let this be a warning. Bed rest. At least until tomorrow. I’m serious, Seulgi.

But Seulgi wasn’t listening anymore. She still heard Jaeyi’s voice echoing in her skull:

“I knew you’d want results, not explanations.”

How many times had she said what he** needed to hear?
And how many times had she not told herself what she needed?

She clenched her jaw. The pain was sharp—but it was real.
That scene in the hallway? That felt like a dream.

---

Back in the room again. Still and heavy like a swamp.

Yeri hadn’t come today. Jaeyi... hadn’t shown up once.

“Busy, probably. Or disgusted with me. Or maybe… she just doesn’t care.”

She lay there, staring at the ceiling she now knew like her own palm.

An hour. Two. Boredom crawled under her skin like ants.

Seulgi picked up her phone, sighed at the battery percentage, and opened the app store.

— Let’s see… ‘Screamers: Night in the Orphanage’? Sounds terrible. Perfect.

She put on her headphones. The screen darkened. A low hum started—like breathing. A little girl’s voice whispered:

“Mommy?.. Where are you?.. It’s dark…”

Seulgi raised a brow, unimpressed.

— Kid, you don’t know what dark is.
I’ve been alone in this hospital room for five hours. Not even a nurse dropped by.

She played. The screen creaked. Shadows flickered.

Seulgi chuckled.

— Ooooh, spooky. Minus five trust, plus two paranoia.

Minute ten. She’d gotten used to the ambience. But then — A black, broken doll-face lunged out of the dark with a shriek.

— AH—WHAT THE F—?! – She flinched, nearly dropping her phone.

Pain shot through her side. She hissed.

— Brilliant. Great rehab plan. Die of a heart attack. Good job, Seulgi.

She closed the app. Silence returned—but heavier than before.

Now everything was loud: the game’s whispers, Jaeyi’s voice, her own breathing.

“What’s wrong with you? You used to be steel. Words didn’t touch you. People didn’t stick in your head. And definitely not for days.”

“You must be perfect. Always.”

Words like a command. Like a cold lock on a door you never asked to open.

Seulgi gripped the blanket like it could squeeze out her frustration. Or guilt. Or both.

Because that night—the night Jaeyi came home late and her father lashed out at her— She... she had been with Seulgi.

Not perfect. Just real. Almost.

Jaeyi had sat right here, in this room.

And now Seulgi knew what it cost.
The price behind the line: “I was just skating.”

— You didn’t just pass by the hospital, — Seulgi whispered into the dark. — You chose. Between what you had to do... and what you wanted.

The breeze from the window clung to her skin like guilt. Not the loud kind. The quiet kind that whispers: “She paid for you. And never said a word.”

She could’ve stayed home. Slept early. Nailed her checklist. Instead—she was here.

And now she was being scolded like she hadn’t done enough.

Seulgi bit her lip.

Why does it hurt like this? Like someone touched the place where her heart should be. And it’s still warm from someone else’s fire.

She remembered how Jaeyi had looked out the window. Like she wasn’t in the room but somewhere far away. Somewhere no one demanded perfection. Somewhere she could just *be*.

“It was because of me,” Seulgi thought.
Not out loud. But in her head, she was already standing in front of her.

In front of Jaeyi. Eyes closed. Wanting to say something she never knew how to before:

“Thank you for coming. Even if you had to pay for it later.”

She didn’t know how to say it to her face.
Not without sounding stupid. Or soft.

But one thing was clear now—after hearing Jaeyi’s father’s voice. Not firm. Crushing.

Everything inside her had shifted.

She pictured Jaeyi walking out the door again. Straight-backed. Unshaken. And no one would know how much it cost her. Because she’s “perfect.”

Too good to break. Too cold to show she’s burning.

But now... now Seulgi knew where the fire had scorched her.

And the only thing she could do—was keep that night safe.

The night Jaeyi didn’t choose perfection.
She chose her.

---

Seulgi sat up slowly. Heart racing. The pain was sharp but manageable—just part of the background now.

— Just a few steps, — she muttered. — A few dozen. Rules were made to be broken.

Her slippers slapped softly against the floor. She cracked open the door, peeked into the hallway. Empty. Shadows and emergency lights.

The clock read 8:17 PM.

Step. Another step. The hall felt longer than it had that morning. Each step echoed in her body—not as sound, but as heartbeat.

A door slammed somewhere down the hall. A nurse whispered into her radio. But no one stopped her.

She reached the main lobby. The lights dimmed for the night.

Her breath quickened—not from effort.
From something else.

Like she might step outside and see her.Or not.

“I just… need to feel alive. Not just a bandage and an IV. Not just lying here wondering what it feels like when she’s next to me. And quiet.”

Her hands shook.

She kept walking. Slowly.

But she walked.

---

Seulgi was sitting on an old wooden bench by the hospital entrance. The air was cool, almost like night—summer no longer warmed like it did at the start of the month. She took a deep breath, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

Freedom.

That’s how it feels when you step out of a stuffy room after a long fever. The air trembles, unfiltered by air conditioners or confined hospital walls. It flowed through her lungs like water—cool, sharp, alive.

"It was as if I’d been sick for a long time, like a broken wing… and now—finally, I’m flapping my own healed wings."

The silence outside the city was special—not empty, but alive. A car rumbled in the distance, a door clicked somewhere in the nearby buildings, branches clinked softly. The light buzzing in her head eased, thoughts began to untangle and scatter with the night air like a spider’s web.

Seulgi didn’t hear footsteps. She didn’t know that at that moment the hospital door opened and someone stopped nearby. For now—only silence.

Then it came:

– Are you out of your mind?!

The voice was sharp, like a gunshot. High, controlled, but ringing with fear. Seulgi jumped, gasped, and snapped her eyes open, sitting up quickly.

– Damn! – she exhaled. – I thought it was a jump scare from a game...

Jaeyi stood before her. In the streetlamp’s evening glow, her face looked carved from white stone. Her gaze was cold, but fear swam just beneath the surface, hidden under layers of control.

– You’re shaking all over. – Her voice was as sharp as a gunshot.

– I like the cold, – Seulgi smirked.

– You’re not supposed to get up, – Jaeyi said. – The doctor told you to stay down. You want to rip your stitches open again?

Seulgi blinked and looked up at her:

– Wait... how do you know what the doctor said?

Jaeyi fell silent abruptly. Her face grew even sterner, but her eyes flicked sideways—for a split second.

– ...Were you eavesdropping?

– I... was just passing by, – Jaeyi said too quickly.

– Uh-huh, – Seulgi squinted. – And you just happened to overhear? Or did you interrogate the nurse?

– You’re changing the subject, – Jaeyi cut in. – I have extra lessons. Up there, on the second floor.

Seulgi raised an eyebrow:

– Extra? Until nine p.m.?

– Studying doesn’t stick to a schedule, – Jaeyi snapped.

Seulgi smirked and shook her head slightly:

– That’s the room... where you gave me the new uniform?

***
Memories:

A year ago

It happened in winter. The snow hadn’t fallen yet, but the air was sharp as a blade. That day, Seulgi thought it would be like any other. Quiet class, cold room, teasing she’d learned to block like an umbrella—just shut it out, don’t let it in. But it wasn’t an umbrella. It was the school uniform. Now stained with someone’s coffee, spilled on purpose. And a cut on the sleeve, made with scissors when she wasn’t looking.

She walked hunched over, clutching her bag to cover her chest, as if that would make any difference. In the hallway, she bumped into Jaeyi. Standing straight as always—collected, as if she controlled the very architecture of the school by sheer will.

– Seulgi, – Jaeyi said coldly. – Come with me.

– Where?.. – Seulgi tried to slip past.

– No questions, – Jaeyi was sharp. – Just come.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but there was something in it you just couldn’t refuse. Seulgi felt like she wasn’t a student but an object being moved. They left the school. Seulgi trailed behind Jaeyi as they walked for nearly half an hour in complete silence to hospital "J." Seulgi noticed the strong smell of antiseptic and books.

On the second floor, they stopped before a door with no nameplate. Just a door. Quiet, heavy.

– Come in, – Jaeyi said shortly.

The room was bright, clean, with a large table and a tall cabinet. The atmosphere felt like an operating room. Everything precise, organized. No accidents.

Jaeyi went to the cabinet and unlocked it. Seulgi stood frozen, as if the floor might open beneath her if she moved.

– Try it on, – Jaeyi said, turning with a neatly folded new uniform in her hands. Skirt, jacket, shirt, tie. Like from a catalog.

Seulgi didn’t move.

– I can’t take this, – she muttered. – It’s… not mine.

– You think they’ll let you stay at school looking like that? – Jaeyi’s voice was steady, but cold crept under her skin. – You’re shaming our class.

Seulgi clenched her fists.

– I’ll manage on my own.

– Really? – a smirk. – Sew a new uniform out of paper? Or beg for apologies?

She wanted to leave. Right then. But she couldn’t. Something held her. Or someone.

– I can’t take it. It’s too much. You didn’t just…

– Then I’ll do it myself, – Jaeyi said, suddenly stepping closer.

Seulgi didn’t have time to step back. Cold fingers touched her shirt, began undoing the top button.

– What are you doing?! – Seulgi flared, her voice shaking.

– You don’t want to change? Then I’ll change you, – the voice was steel. – You think you have a choice?

Seulgi froze. Inside—a short circuit.

She couldn’t move. Not her hands, not her voice—nothing obeyed. Her face burned. Not with shame. With helplessness.

– You think this is easy? – Jaeyi continued. – You think I waste time on you for nothing? This uniform. For school. For order. For… reputation. Understand?

Something inside Seulgi snapped.

"Of course. Reputation. That’s what it’s for. The key. The cabinet. Me."

She jerked her hands away from Jaeyi.

– Don’t touch me.

Her fingers trembled as she started undoing the shirt herself. Her back tensed like a string.

"Why did I come here? Why did I listen? Of course, this isn’t kindness. It’s school. It’s appearance. It’s a facade."

She turned away. Not out of shame. Because she didn’t want anyone to see how everything twisted inside her.

When she took off her shirt, an old scar showed on her right shoulder—like a burn, a stretched, darkened patch of skin.

Jaeyi saw it when Seulgi turned slightly.

– What’s that?

Seulgi said nothing. Just put on the new shirt, buttoning it quickly, as if trying to erase the moment when another girl touched her body.

When she finished and looked up, Jaeyi studied her critically, as if measuring against some inner standard.

– Perfect, – she said. – Now just work on your behavior.

Seulgi was silent.

She didn’t even say thank you. Couldn’t. Didn’t want to.

Everything inside boiled—not anger at Jaeyi. At herself. For letting it happen. For standing there. For agreeing.

They left the room silently. Jaeyi closed the door.

– Don’t be late tomorrow, – she said like ticking a box.

Seulgi stayed by the door. In the new uniform.

She didn’t know if she was cleaner now… or dirtier.

She watched Jaeyi walk down the hall, as if she had more air under her feet than everyone else.

And in her head was a mess. A salad. Without dressing. Without flavor. Just tangled leaves of thought.

"Why did she do that? Why did I agree? And… why doesn’t it feel like help?"

End of memory.
***

Seulgi, without looking at her, said:

– I never thanked you for that. You... annoyed me. All proper. Rules, discipline, no emotion. Like a checklist in a human form.

She laughed shortly, bitterly. Jaeyi looked at her silently. Then, surprising even herself, she said quietly:

– Sorry.

– What?

– For those words. Back then. I had no right to say that.

Seulgi’s eyes widened:

– Wait... you just said that out loud?

– Don’t expect it again. I won’t repeat.

– Please... – Seulgi smiled widely, like a child. – Say it again! I’ll make it my wallpaper. Embroider it on a pillow. Get a cat and name it “Sorry”...

Jaeyi shook her head, but the corners of her mouth twitched—a faint smile.

– But it’s true. You gave me a chance, – Seulgi went on. – A real one. And you didn’t leave when I started falling. Thanks, Jaeyi. – She looked up—this time meeting her gaze calmly, sincerely.

Jaeyi tilted her head slightly:

– I did what I had to. I just don’t like people dying near me. Especially stubborn ones.

– Stubborn? – Seulgi laughed. – You clearly haven’t read me right yet.

– Back to your room, – Jaeyi said, stepping closer. – You need to go back. Now.

Seulgi slowly turned her head, squinting, smiling at the corners of her lips:

– There she is, my favorite version of you. So cold... strict... mmm, like ice in your veins. You’re actually caring. I think you do it on purpose so I’ll listen.

Jaeyi quickly looked away, as if dropping something mentally. Her cheeks flushed scarlet, but thankfully dusk had already darkened the sky—darkness hiding the betrayal of color.

– Shut up, – she muttered, pressing her lips and looking aside. – Get up.

Seulgi smirked, swaying slightly, and, leaning her hands on the bench, slowly stood. Her side felt like hot strings were pulled tight, but she didn’t even wince.

– See? It works, – she said quietly, moving closer. – I’m listening.

Jaeyi stood silently, but her look was so intense it felt like the air between them cracked.

Seulgi tried to stand—not steady, off-balance, her body swaying.

Jaeyi offered her shoulder to lean on, helping her rise.

They walked silently along the path, silence accompanying them like a backdrop. Seulgi walked slowly, carefully, sometimes letting herself lean lightly on Jaeyi’s shoulder.

---

The room was quiet. Only the curtains fluttered gently in the breeze coming through the slightly open window.

Seulgi sat on the bed, leaning forward a little, her hand resting on her side. Jaeyi approached silently. She sat on the edge of the bed and said calmly, but with a steely tone:

– Lift your shirt.

– What? – Seulgi squinted slightly, as if she didn’t understand.

– The stitch. I need to check if there’s any inflammation.

Seulgi’s mouth opened, her heart pounding so loudly it felt like it could be heard from the street. She forced out:

– Maybe you should ask me out first? This feels a bit too rushed, you know...

She smirked, but her voice betrayed a tremor, especially after seeing Jaeyi’s expression—unwavering, serious, tense.

Seulgi frowned:

– Since when are you a nurse?

– I’m studying to be one. – Jaeyi carefully lifted the edge of Seulgi’s hospital gown with her fingers. – It’s part of our school program. An advanced biology and anatomy module, some practical work. It’s a specialization.

Seulgi blushed, her cheeks flushed, especially when Jaeyi’s cold fingers lifted the fabric, exposing the skin on her side. The stitch ran along her ribs, neat and even. Seulgi flinched slightly at the touch and muttered:

– You could at least warm your hands… I don’t bite, you know…

– You’ll survive. – Jaeyi studied the stitch carefully. – So far, everything looks normal. No pus, redness within acceptable limits. You’re breathing unevenly, but that’s from pain, not inflammation.

– You sound way too sure of yourself, – Seulgi grumbled.

– Because I know what I’m talking about. You need to stop pretending you’re independent and start listening to the doctors.

Seulgi squinted and quietly chuckled:

– Oh, you’re getting romantic. Stitch, blood, cold hands… All just right.

Jaeyi looked up and replied grimly:

– That’s a threat, not romance.

– Well then, I’ll definitely fall in love now, – Seulgi smirked, then winced from the pain.

– Don’t you dare, – Jaeyi snorted, pulling her hand back and carefully lowering the fabric. – You’re already causing more trouble than necessary.

Seulgi lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling.

– By the way, what school were you talking about? I’m not sure I even know where you study.

– Of course you don’t know, – Jaeyi cut in. – You’re always lost somewhere in your own world.

Seulgi closed her eyes, a half-smile touching her lips.

– And you… are like someone who brings me back from it.

Silence. Jaeyi sat nearby, watching her but saying nothing. Her shadow fell softly on the sheet.

– You don’t always have to come back, – she finally said quietly. – Sometimes the world you fly off to… might be better than this one.

Seulgi slowly turned her head toward her, squinting.

– What was that just now? You actually approved my eternal escape from reality?

– No. – Jaeyi sighed. – I just… understand. Sometimes. I wish I could disappear too, even if only for a day.

– Disappear? You? – Seulgi chuckled. – You’re the perfect one. Control, schedule, everything timed to the minute. Even your threats follow a timetable.

– Very funny. – Jaeyi crossed her arms. – And you’re chaos with eyes. And yet you always end up in the center.

Seulgi fell silent for a moment. Then whispered:

– The center is you. I’m just spinning somewhere nearby. Sometimes too close… sometimes…

– Too far, – Jaeyi finished for her. – I’ve noticed that too.

Silence again. Outside, the drizzle began. Drops tapped softly on the windowsill.

– Seulgi, – Jaeyi called quietly.

– Mm?

– Next time… if it gets worse, don’t wait until someone just finds you. Call me… at least once.

Seulgi, who had closed her eyes moments ago, opened them. Her gaze softened, but something else flickered there—something cautious, as if she had been offered more than just help.

– Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?

– No. – Jaeyi stood up. – But I stopped caring a long time ago.

She walked to the door. Stopped. Didn’t look back.

– Please don’t find another excuse to run out of the ward again.

– Yeah, yeah, nurse on duty, – Seulgi smiled quietly, watching Jaeyi’s back as she left.

But something stirred inside her. Something like warmth. Or anxiety. Or that very “something” worth coming back for in the first place.

---

The door closed softly behind Jaeyi, but her presence still lingered in the air, like the scent of menthol or fresh clothes. Silence fell—not like a cozy blanket, but like a heavy lid on a sarcophagus.

Seulgi stared at the ceiling for a long time. White. Cold, with a tiny almost invisible crack—like on her side. As if someone wanted to darn the hospital the same way they had darned her.

“Call me… at least once.”

Jaeyi’s voice sounded clearer in her head than anything else. Even her own thoughts dimmed beside it. It cut and tickled at the same time. As if Jaeyi knew. Knew that Seulgi wasn’t the type to call out. To anyone. Ever.

“Well, if I had called… then what? Would she come in, approach, hug me? Or start lecturing again with that stern face that makes your heart feel wrong?”

Seulgi buried her face in the pillow. The fabric smelled sterile and strange. She exhaled loudly.

– It’s not really her I like… – she muttered into the pillow. – It’s just… a type. Cold, strict, stubborn. The classic annoying type.

A pause. Then:

– With terribly beautiful eyes.

She sat up on the bed, shivering from the pain in her side. Her palm instinctively rested on the stitch. The pain returned again—as a reminder that neither body nor heart could relax.

She looked at her phone. The screen blinked. 00:14. Sleep wouldn’t come. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but inside everything buzzed, alive and too real.

“I downloaded that horror game…”

Just to distract herself. Just not to think about how Jaeyi might have stayed standing behind the door for a few seconds. And how she still couldn’t—couldn’t say properly: “stay.”

Seulgi grabbed her phone, put in her earphones. Her fingers hovered over the game icon. The one. The pixel horror where you’re alone and shadows lurk everywhere.

“Well then, go ahead, distract me… spooky misunderstanding. At least you.”

And she started the game.

***

A few days later.

The morning was clear but chilly — soft rays of light slipped through the car windows, tinting the upholstery a pale golden. Seulgi sat in the front seat, wearing her school uniform, with a bandage tucked under her shirt, leaning slightly against the door, clutching her backpack on her lap. Going back to school felt strange and a little nerve-wracking, like it was the first day, not just a continuation of an old life.

U Mina was behind the wheel. Her movements were calm and confident. She didn’t say much, but the car was filled with a quiet, almost caring silence.

– Are you sure you want to go today? – she asked without turning her head.

– Yeah, – Seulgi answered shortly. – If I stayed one more day... – she smirked a little – I’d start talking to the IV drip. Or convincing myself that the walls were breathing.

– You could wait until you’re discharged. It’s tomorrow anyway.

Seulgi snorted. They talked as if those two years of exchanging just glances or a word every few days didn’t exist.

– One more night and I’d have discharged myself. Straight out in hospital clothes with an IV under my arm.

U Mina smiled—just slightly, barely at the corner of her lips.

– If anything happens, call me. Not because I’m stubborn, just... if it hurts.

Seulgi nodded. No words. Just got out of the car, gripping her backpack a bit tighter than necessary.

---

School was a maze. Every corner was a chance to run into someone pretending they care. Or the opposite. I didn’t know which category Yari fit into now.

She hadn’t spoken to me since the hospital scene. Not that I expected flowers and chocolates. I expected… I don’t know. Something else. But instead—silence.

Seulgi showed up in the school hall during first break. Only a slight unnatural caution in her walk and her a bit tense breathing gave away that she still wasn’t quite back in shape. A few students glanced back, someone whispered something to a neighbor, but everyone quickly stepped aside when...

– SEULGIIIIII!! — Yeri’s shout tore through the corridor.

A second later, Seulgi literally crashed into a whirlwind of tangled arms, perfume, and a thick: – What, did you run away?!

– Quiet, damn it, I have a stitch there. Want to send me back to the hospital?

– Actually, yeah. I want to visit your room—with pizza and a ghost hospital series! – Yeri hugged her a bit softer. – I missed you! You can’t scare me like that!

– I missed you too, – Seulgi nodded a little. – Though your chemistry teacher haunts my nightmares. With flasks and screaming “Who spilled sulfur?!”

– That’s how she actually yells, – Kyeong came up smirking. – Glad you’re okay. Really.

– I’m almost okay. – Seulgi adjusted her backpack strap. – My side protests, but... that’s small stuff.

– When did they take out the stitches? – Kyeong asked.

– Not yet. But I decided: enough. My soul’s already wrapped in a net of bandages.

Just then, Jaeyi appeared. In her usual uniform, strict and focused—but her eyes held more than what you could read at first glance.

– Why are you here?

– What, you the school guard? – Seulgi squinted. – Seriously, I just ran away. Enough. The ward started smelling like loneliness and plastic.

– You’re supposed to be under observation. The tissues heal slowly. If you strain the stitch again, it’ll open.

– It’ll open—then they’ll sew it back. What, like it’s my first time? – Yeri laughed.

– You sound like some cheap action movie hero coming back with a bullet in the gut saying, “It’s nothing, just an itch.”

– That’s been my style, – Seulgi glanced meaningfully at everyone. – I’ve sewn myself up before, using boar tendons, and cauterized a wound with gunpowder from a bullet. – She looked at them seriously.

– What are you talking about? – Kyeong adjusted her glasses.

– It was at the orphanage, – Seulgi began, her voice like a movie background. – Someone was shooting at everyone with a pistol, that’s when I got hit. I pulled the bullet out of the wound. Then I found gunpowder and a boar... I was ten...

– What..? – Yeri was stunned.

And Jaeyi looked at her with a burning gaze, never looking away.

– You’re such an idiot, – Jaeyi muttered, showing a half-smile.

Seulgi, who had just shared her heartbreaking story, fell silent. Her eyes went wide, like she’d seen a falling meteor.

— A-A-A!! — she screamed so loud Kyeong jumped, and Yari, stifling laughter, grabbed her chest:

— What the hell’s wrong with you?!

Seulgi flushed bright red, as if she had a forty-degree fever.

— SHE! — she pointed at Jaeyi. — SHE SMILED! Not fully, but she smiled!!!

Kyeong blinked.

— So? It’s not like a comet over Tokyo...

— To her—yes!

Yeri snorted:

— Yeah, that’s a rare sight.

Seulgi pressed her palm to her chest, pretending a heart attack.

— I just got out of the hospital... and her smile nearly killed me! I’m not ready for such a sharp switch from clinical gloom to... a solar disaster.

Jaeyi silently watched the whole drama, but a faint blush still touched her cheeks. She immediately wiped the smile off her face, as if turning off a lamp.

— Don’t exaggerate, — she threw, with her usual stone-cold expression. — It was... a reflex.

— Reflex?! — Seulgi pouted, crossing her arms. — Fine. Then don’t smile at me anymore. Let your smile be for important things... like, I don’t know... morgues!

Kyeong laughed out loud, Yeri snorted.

— You two are hilarious. A full-on series with no breaks.

Seulgi turned away dramatically, her cheeks still burning, and muttered:

— Don’t smile at me, got it? That was too much. My heart’s not as trained as Kyeong’s. It’s fragile.

Jaeyi glanced at her briefly and barely—almost unnoticed—twitched the corner of her mouth. But she quickly hid it behind indifference.

And Seulgi noticed. And pouted even more.

— There you go again! I said—don’t smile!!

Laughter didn’t stop. Yeri clapped her knees:

— “Jaeyi’s smile as a deadly weapon”… Oh, let’s print that on a poster and hang it in the school nurse’s office!

Kyeong added, rolling her eyes:

— Or at the campus entrance: “Warning. Smile. Not for the faint of heart.”

Yeri didn’t relent:

— Or: “In case of sudden smile—drop to the floor and cover with your physics textbook!”

Seulgi blushed even more, though no longer out of fear.

— Enough! — she fidgeted, covering her face with her hands. — I’m serious! I just... didn’t expect it.

— Well, — Yeri smirked. — You expected “contempt” but got a “sunstroke.”

Jaeyi rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched again, slightly betraying her.

Seulgi stole another glance at her. Her heart raced.

There was a pause, like even the air was holding its breath.

— You know, — Seulgi exhaled softly, — still... smile if you want.

They all looked at each other.

— Because... — she continued, looking at Jaeyi, — I’ve never seen such a beautiful smile before. And it’d be a shame not to see it again.

This time, they both blushed.

Yeri squinted at them and whispered quietly to Kyeong:

— I’m giving them three scenes max, and we’ll witness the first kiss.

Kyeong nodded, fixing her collar:

— I’m bringing popcorn.

Jaeyi, as if frozen for a moment, lowered her gaze. Her ears betrayed her with a flush too.

— ...Stop it, — she muttered, but her voice was softer than usual. — I don’t smile just like that.

Seulgi snorted, but warmly:

— Yeah. Only on schedule? In the nurse’s office, third period?

— No, — Jaeyi mumbled, a bit quieter. — Only when... I don’t know. Only when I forget myself.

— So I made you forget? — Seulgi squinted, bolder now. — Scary to imagine what happens if I start trying.

Yeri froze, mouth open, turning to Kyeong:

— That’s it, a kiss in the next scene. Official.

Jaeyi stared at Seulgi—strict as always, but something else flickered in her eyes. Warmth, embarrassment... interest?

— You need to try to get back to normal, not flirt in the school hall. — She turned sharply, like it would hide her blush.

Seulgi, already pleased with herself, almost sang:

— Too late. I’m in a dangerous rehab phase. Could cause unpredictable symptoms.

— Like sudden bouts of stupidity, — Jaeyi muttered.

Seulgi whispered quietly, leaning toward her:

— Still, smile. Even if it’s my medicine.

Yeri crossed her arms, theatrically scanning the trio and snorted:

— Well... at this point, I’m out. I actually have things to do besides watch live school drama.

Seulgi raised an eyebrow questioningly:

— Weren’t you going the other way?

— Don’t get distracted, wounded bird, — Yari smiled back. — And you, Jaeyi... — she slowly turned to her friend. — Escort her to class. Slowly. She’s still fragile.

— Yeri, — Jaeyi sighed strictly, but Yeri was already stepping back quickly, pretending not to hear, and called over her shoulder:

— All for health! Especially emotional! Bye!

Kyeong, suppressing a laugh, also stepped away, leaving the girls alone.

Seulgi put a hand on her chest with mock horror:

— Terrible. They betrayed me. Turned me over to the strict warden.

— You’re acting like a child, — Jaeyi grumbled, looking away. — I just...

— Care? — Seulgi softly added.

Jaeyi hesitated. Silence hung between them. Then she spoke gently:

— I just don’t want you to end up in the hospital again. You’ve already spent half your life there.

Seulgi bit her lip and looked down, then almost in a whisper:

— I thought you only cared about the school’s reputation.

Jaeyi turned to her with a light, almost imperceptible look, full of too much—annoyance, tenderness, confusion:

— Think what you want. Just walk normally. Don’t trip.

They turned the corner, and suddenly Seulgi stopped:

— Can I confess something?

Jaeyi sighed but nodded.

Seulgi smiled:

— I really have never seen such a beautiful smile. Even if you hide it.

Jaeyi froze. Her ears flared again. She wanted to say something but couldn’t—and just walked faster ahead.

Seulgi quietly snorted and followed her, pouting:

— Hey, at least say thanks... You scary woman...

***

Seulgi walked down the hallway slowly, unhurried. The dull ache in her side was still there, but it didn’t stop her from moving with the same lazy defiance in her eyes that people usually preferred to avoid. She stopped at the door to the literature classroom, pausing for a second with her eyes closed. Inhale. Exhale. And she stepped in.

— Hey! Hands off him! — she snapped, seeing two upperclassmen pinning a freshman against the lockers.

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the hallway like ice — everything quieted down instantly.

The guys turned around, one of them trying to smirk.

— What, done with sick leave and back to playing hero?

But Seulgi took a step forward. Casual, almost lazy — but her eyes flared with something that needed no words. The second guy flinched slightly.

— Did I stutter? — her voice dropped lower. — Back off. Now.

The two exchanged looks and backed away without another word, muttering under their breath. The freshman stared at her with a kind of awestruck fear.

Seulgi just waved him off and walked on.

---

By third period — biology — she was out cold. Properly asleep: head down on the desk, quiet breaths, a faint smile on her lips. Yeri noticed first and nudged her in the side, grinning conspiratorially.

— Look at that. Barely flew back in and already snoozing.

— Not snoozing... — Seulgi mumbled without even opening her eyes.

---

At lunch, they gathered at their usual table. Jaeyi sat across from Seulgi, quietly poking at her food — veggies, quinoa, something boiled and far too green. Seulgi was happily chewing a bun, sipping juice through a straw.

— So? How were the hospital nights, hmm? — Yeri asked with a grin. — Screeching, drips, ghosts in the hallway?

— Almost. — Seulgi pretended to think. — One night I played a horror game on my phone. Sat there like an idiot with a flashlight under the blanket. And then I hear this: *vzzzz…* — and someone tapping at the window.

— No. — Kyeong’s eyes went wide.

— Yes. I peeked — and it was... just a branch against the glass. But by then I’d already thrown my phone, hid under the sheet, and said goodbye to all of you in my head.

— Injured but dramatic, as always, — Yeri giggled.

Jaeyi shifted a little, the corner of her mouth twitching — barely. But Seulgi noticed.

Kyeong snorted, and Jaeyi quickly wiped the "smile" away, looking back down at her plate.

— That wasn’t a smile. That was... a spasm.

— Uh-huh. Sure. If that was a spasm, I’m a kitten exorcist.

— You’re a kitten all the time, just... with claws. — Jaeyi muttered softly, still not looking up.

Seulgi was quiet for a couple seconds, then suddenly said:

— So, how was it without me? Bet you missed me. Walls crying, lockers wilting?

— The teachers were dancing, — Yeri replied. — You weren’t there to interrupt their lessons.

— Yeah, and the hallway didn’t reek of impending doom.

Seulgi puffed her cheeks in mock offense.

— I was saving you all! From boredom! From monotony! From bullies!

Jaeyi suddenly said quietly:

— And from silence.

They all turned to her.

Seulgi stared. Then slowly, a little sheepishly, she smiled.

— So you did miss me.

— I never said that. — Jaeyi shot back, though her gaze softened.

— And she falls again. To the power of caring.

— More like to the drama, — Jaeyi muttered, standing up.

— I didn’t even... You smiled, and I nearly had a heart attack.

— You just got out of the hospital, maybe ease up on heart attacks, — Yeri snarked.

— Yeah, fresh stitches and all. Emotional overload is strictly prohibited, — Kyeong added with innocent cheer.

Jaeyi set her fork down, eyeing them all like they were some bizarre cult.

— Are you all conspiring?

— Would you mind if we were all just a little in love with you? — Yeri teased shamelessly.

This time, it wasn’t just Seulgi who turned red.

Yeri flinched when Seulgi yelled:

— That’s the third smile today! I’m keeping count!

— That was a cramp, — Jaeyi answered calmly.

— If that’s a cramp, may you have another. And another. All day long.

— You want me to have facial muscle issues?

— No, I want you to look happy. Just once. At least... — Seulgi stumbled over the words and quickly pressed her lips together. — ...Because it suits you.

Jaeyi’s heart shot up to her throat. She didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t.

Yeri clapped dramatically:

— There! You heard that? That was practically a confession.

— That was pure science, — Seulgi muttered. — Fact. Physiognomy. Biology of a smile. Nothing more.

---

The gym roared like a wall — dull thuds of balls hitting the floor, whistles slicing the air, voices shouting at the net. Inside that noise, almost like in a room of their own, Seulgi and Kyeong stood in the corner of the court, a little away from everyone else. Seulgi had her arms folded and was listening quietly, with that little half-smile she wore only when talking to Kyeong.

— ...I really didn’t know they felt that way about me, — Kyeong muttered, shaking her head. — Then that girl just snapped. And now I don’t get it — did I do something wrong? Or is it just...

Seulgi looked up at her, squinting slyly.

— Maybe you just shine too bright. Hurts people’s eyes. Or maybe she’s got her own demons. You don’t owe anyone an explanation.

Kyeong gave a half-huff, like she was about to say "you know I’ll torture myself anyway," but didn’t get the chance —

— Seulgi!

The shout came from the other end of the gym. And in that same instant, Seulgi caught a blur in the corner of her vision. A ball.

She didn’t think. Just shoved Kyeong to the side. Sharp, fast, automatic. And the next moment — Impact.

A dull, inner thud.

Right into the right side of her chest. Where the stitches were.

Seulgi didn’t scream. The air left her on its own. Her hands flew to her chest, fingers brushing warm blood.

Her eyes widened. The world lost focus. Colors blurred. Voices sank like they were underwater. The gym seemed to tilt, then recede into the distance.

— Seulgi?! — Kyeong’s voice tore through the cotton.

Seulgi hunched, folding over. Pain lanced through her, sharp as lightning. Cold sweat broke at her temples.

— Breathe. Breathe, okay? You’re bleeding... Goddamn it, just hold on... — Kyeong grabbed her shoulders, kneeling down beside her.

Seulgi tried. Tried to breathe.
But each attempt felt like her chest refused to open.

Footsteps. Heavy, urgent.

— What happened?! — a voice. Clear, sharp. Jaeyi.

Through her blurring vision, Seulgi saw her.

Those sharp features. Pulled-back hair. Panic in her eyes — unhidden this time.

— She got hit by the ball! In the side! Where the stitches are! She’s bleeding! — Kyeong cried out desperately.

— Help her up. Gently... — Jaeyi knelt beside them. Reached out. — Seulgi. Look at me.

Seulgi lifted her gaze. Her pupils trembled.

— I...

But no words came out. She bent again, clutching her chest.

— Severe pain? Dizziness? — Jaeyi was already on autopilot, checking her pulse, her other hand on Seulgi’s shoulder. — Can you hear me?

— I’m okay. Just... kinda... dark... — Seulgi rasped.

— That’s the pain talking. You’re bleeding. You need to breathe evenly, okay? Keep your eyes on me.

Seulgi tried. But everything swam. Jaeyi’s face kept shifting — vanishing, then snapping into focus. Everything blended — the gym, the ball, her voice, Kyeong’s terrified eyes, some girl biting her lip against the wall...

— You’re disoriented, that’s normal. Just follow my voice. I’m right here. — Jaeyi leaned in slightly. Her face was tense. Angry. Or... scared.

— Are you mad? — Seulgi whispered hoarsely, almost delirious.

— I’m furious! Because you’re an idiot, — Jaeyi’s voice cracked. — You don’t think. You just throw yourself into harm’s way. Like you’re... invincible. Or like... you don’t care.

Seulgi’s shaking fingers gripped her sleeve.

— Aren’t I?..

And darkness again.

Not full, but warm.

Someone’s breathing nearby. The scent of clean hair — mint and soap. Jaeyi. She didn’t pull away.

Seulgi exhaled.

She knew it would hurt.

But maybe... if pain brought someone’s care, it wasn’t the worst feeling after all.

---

The nurse’s office was quiet. Too quiet. White walls — like mute witnesses to someone else’s pain. Seulgi sat at the edge of the cot, hunched forward, holding her side. As if letting go might tear everything open again.

Next to her — Jaeyi, cold as a shadow. Her steps made no noise, no squeak, but the air felt tight. She said nothing as she prepared antiseptic, gloves, sterile pads, and fresh gauze, like she was following protocol. Precise. Mechanical. No emotion.

Only when she came closer did she finally speak:

— Lift your shirt.

Her tone was even. Cold. Neutral.
Seulgi looked up at her. Something pinched in her chest harder than the pain in her stitches.

— You could at least say "please"… — she muttered, trying to hide the shake in her voice and hands.

Jaeyi didn’t react. Just took a step closer, jaw tight.

— If you won’t do it, I will.

Seulgi swallowed. Not from fear. From the way that sounded. Like behind all the strictness, something else was hiding — pain. Frustration. Worry.

Slowly, she lifted her shirt, revealing the wound. The stitches had partly come undone. The bleeding had almost stopped, but the fabric still darkened with fresh stains.

Jaeyi knelt down. Touched the edge of the gauze — and Seulgi flinched.

— It’s cold — she breathed out, like an excuse.

— I have to clean it. It’s alcohol. Bear with it — Jaeyi said, still in that clipped tone, not looking her in the eye.

She cleaned the wound — slowly, carefully, like she was afraid of breaking Seulgi herself, not just hurting her. No sudden moves. Just one short sentence:

— No deep damage. Surface bleeding, but the stitches could’ve fully split. You got lucky.

Seulgi watched. Didn’t look away.

Watched Jaeyi’s focused face, her furrowed brows, the way her fingers gently folded the gauze and fixed the bandage in place.

— Are you always like this? — she asked suddenly.

Jaeyi looked up. Met her eyes.

— Like what?

Seulgi hesitated. Remembered Jaeyi’s face when she spoke to her father. Hard. Obedient. Cold. And this — this was different.

— Nothing — she said quietly. — It’s just strange seeing you like this… alive.

Jaeyi looked away, but her hands faltered for a second. Like she realized she’d let herself be seen — and immediately recoiled.

— Are you still mad? — Seulgi asked after a pause.

— Yes — firmly.

— Because I was being stupid?

— No. Because you act like your life doesn’t matter. Like it’s fine if you’re broken. Like… pain’s just normal for you. Like being hurt is just how things are. I’m mad because you don’t get how much it means. That you… — she stopped herself abruptly.

Seulgi bit her lip.

— I just didn’t want Kyeong to get hurt.

— Did you think maybe someone doesn’t want you to get hurt either? — quiet, but sharp. Like a slap.

The air between them thickened.

— Why are you always so strict? — Seulgi asked, trying to smile. — You know I’m in pain. Can I complain?

— No — Jaeyi said flatly, but the corners of her lips twitched.

— Is that a threat or… affection? — Seulgi smirked.

— That’s me — Jaeyi replied simply. — All my clumsy care. Not the kind you need. Not soft.

Seulgi froze for a second. Then let out a breath.

— But somehow… that’s exactly the kind I do need.

The room went quiet again. Just the ticking clock and the soft crackle of tape as Jaeyi fixed the bandage.

— So I’m not dying? — Seulgi asked with a shaky smile.

— No. But if you throw yourself into danger one more time — I will personally sew you to the bed — and for the first time, Jaeyi’s voice wavered.

Seulgi looked at her — and suddenly her throat tightened.

Not from pain. From something pulling deep inside. Quiet. Heavy. Strong.

Because that moment — when Jaeyi’s hands trembled from restraint and her lips whispered threats instead of pleas — that was the warmest moment Seulgi had felt in a very, very long time.

Chapter Text

A week had passed. Seven days turned inside out like an old T-shirt—stained, worn, yet still cherished.

Two days ago, Seulgi's stitches were removed. Officially, she was "fine." Unofficially, every breath echoed with a dull, lazy ache in her side, as if a temperamental cat had taken residence inside her, occasionally scratching from within whenever she moved too much.

*Flashback:*

Seulgi sat at the edge of the cot, arms crossed over her chest, wearing a T-shirt that hung loosely on her slender frame. The doctor, as stern as ever, approached with confident steps, though his gaze was softer than in the early days.

"Alright, warrior girl. Let's take a look at that rib," he said, already pulling on his gloves. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better," Seulgi snorted, lifting the hem of her T-shirt.

The doctor smirked. He carefully removed the small protective bandage and examined the thin line of the suture—the skin around it slightly red but not inflamed.

"Healing well. No new bruises," he nodded. "The stitches were placed neatly, and the tissue isn't inflamed. We can remove them."

Seulgi nodded silently, only squinting briefly when the fine instrument touched her skin. The silence was broken only by the clicks of the tool and the muffled hum from the corridor.

"Does it hurt?" the doctor asked without looking up.

"Well, you're no worse than that game where a maniac jumps out of a closet. I squealed there too," she muttered.

"Ah, so you still have energy for nonsense. That means you're almost back to normal," the doctor chuckled. "Only an internal scar remains. It'll ache—especially if you run around school as if you haven't been cut open."

"I don't run... I suffer beautifully," she smirked, pulling down her T-shirt.

"Uh-huh. Just remember—muscle tension can tear the tissue again. Even coughing or loud laughter can cause pain. So," he raised a finger, "no heroics. And come back for a check-up in a week. That's an order, not advice."

Seulgi nodded and slid off the examination table.

Inside, it still pulled, especially when she moved, but there was something almost solemn about it: as if her body had finally caught up with what her soul had long decided—to survive.

*End of flashback*

---

The week passed in a haze. Either too quickly or, conversely, dragging on like gum stuck to a shoe.

And yet... she hadn't seen Jaeyi for almost half a day.

It was absurd. They seemed to be always nearby—in the same building, caught in the same loop of events. But Jaeyi had vanished: her face flickering in reports with the director, her voice echoing from the conference room with the council. "Presidential duties," Kyung said with a smirk, trailing after her like a seasoned bodyguard.

As for Seulgi... Seulgi drank water, paced in circles, and tried not to worry. Unsuccessfully. Out of boredom, she even listened to a lecture on discipline. Almost.

"Hey," Yeri said, sprawling next to her on the bench, "if you had a choice: go through all this again... or become a cat in someone's kitchen?"

"I'd be a cat. Right now. Put me on the windowsill. Let them bring me tuna and a pillow," Seulgi snorted.

They laughed. For a moment, the world became simple again: two friends, sunshine, and nothing more.

But, as always, perfect moments last only until someone opens their mouth.

"Look at her, strutting around like a hero. She should learn to keep a low profile."

The voice came from behind. Not loud. But clear enough.

Seulgi froze. Yeri raised an eyebrow.

Seulgi didn't turn around. She just kept looking ahead. It felt like a punch to the gut, without the physical contact.

She could have responded. Oh, she knew how. She had a whole vocabulary for such situations. But she stayed silent. Because when they talked about others—her body moved first. But when it's about her... something inside seemed to freeze. As if she didn't have to defend herself. As if it wasn't worth it.

But Yeri stood up. Abruptly.

"Say that again," she said calmly, almost politely. "Or will your tongue fall off?"

"Oh, look, she has a bodyguard," one of the girls sneered.

Seulgi turned her head. Still calm. Almost lazy.

"Yeri," she said quietly, "don't bother."

"I'm your mirror, in case you haven't noticed. If you can stand up for others, then I can stand up for you."

There were three of them. Not exactly a crowd—more like a flock of chickens thinking they're wolves.

One stepped closer. Another raised an eyebrow. At some point, it all became almost comical: a school cafeteria drama with a bad script.

Seulgi stood up. Slowly. Her eyes still calm, but inside, something was stirring. Like a warm wave crawling from her heels up to her throat.

"Yeri, if you don't hold me back now—they're done for."

And at that moment... it happened.

One of the girls, apparently deciding that "first strike means victory," lunged and hit. From the side. Low. Right on the suture where the needle had recently been.

Seulgi had just started to turn—heard the sound. Sharp. Solid.

But there was no pain.

Everyone froze.

Seulgi froze.

And only then—slowly, belatedly—she saw Jaeyi standing in front of her. Back straight, shoulders tense, a thin line of blood trickling down her lip.

It was as if the silence in the room collapsed. Only one sound remained—blood. Down the lip.

Seulgi stared. Something inside her snapped. The cold—gone. The pain—dissolved. Only rage remained.

And at that moment... they really should have apologized.

Jaeyi's lip was still bleeding.

Seulgi watched. Saw the crimson drop slide down her chin, leaving a treacherous trail. Her ears didn't ring—they roared. Roared as if a temple inside her, built of light, calm, and her own humanity, was collapsing.

Jaeyi. Her Jaeyi. Her icy sun that always shone from afar but now stood right in front of her. With a split lip. Shielding her with her body.

And that was enough. Enough for the rage to ignite like a dry forest from a spark.

The first punch drove Seulgi's fist straight into the jaw of the one closest to her. A dull, sickening crunch echoed down the corridor. She didn't even have time to scream: her eyes rolled back, her body collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud, like a sack of meat.

Someone screamed. Someone gasped. A few people backed away.

But Seulgi didn't hear.

"DO. NOT. TOUCH. HER."—the words flew from her throat like bullets. Each one laced with venom, with fire, with a cold that burns worse than heat.

The second tried to dodge—too late. Seulgi moved with predator precision: a lunge, a twist, an elbow—and it connected with the jaw with a sound like breaking bone. A sharp, hysterical scream of pain choked on blood. The girl collapsed, clutching her face, crimson seeping between her fingers, staining her cuffs and the floor.

Yeri's screams tore through the air like a siren. Footsteps, commotion, shocked voices echoed behind.

But inside Seulgi, there was a deadly silence.

No doubt. No fear.

Only icy, inhuman focus, clear as glass, sharp as a blade.

Adrenaline flooded her veins like boiling fuel. The pain in her side vanished as if it had never existed. All that remained was rage. Rage pulsing in every finger, in every breath. Rage that whispered:

"You touched her. You'll pay."

The third girl, trembling, opened her mouth—and said something about Jaeyi. Carelessly. Filthily. Loudly.

Seulgi didn't remember moving. Only that her fist—heavy as a stone—slammed into the face. The crunch of a nose. Blood splattering on her sleeve. And a body crumpled against the wall, shriveled like a rag doll.

Someone screamed behind. The air was hot with cries, flashes, panic.

But Seulgi stood, breathing heavily, fists clenched, knuckles bloodied. In her eyes—not light, not reason. Fire. Black-red. Deep as night.

And when Jaeyi shouted her name, there was fear in her voice.

"Seulgi!"—Jaeyi's voice thundered. But even it pierced the fury only like a whisper through a hurricane.

"Enough!"—Jaeyi shouted again. And in her voice, there wasn't just anger or sternness—there was panic. Real. The kind Seulgi had never heard before. The kind that crawls under your skin, hits your chest, and breaks something important inside.

And then—a touch. An embrace. Sudden. Strong. Almost painful.

Jaeyi crashed into her from behind, hugging her as if trying not to comfort, but to restrain. As if she felt Seulgi slipping away. Soul. Control. As if she herself jumped into the flames to pull her out.

Her hands were uncertain, yet unyielding. As if Jaeyi had no right, but a promised "must." Seulgi felt her own back press against Jaeyi's chest, and the heart behind it beating. Erratic. Rapid. Almost hysterical. As if everything that had happened—broke her too. As if the blow, without touching the skin, hit Jaeyi deeper than anyone else.

Seulgi froze. The world swam. Faces in her eyes, emptiness in her ears. No footsteps, no screams. Only pulsation, like underwater. Only the heat of breath on her nape. Only a touch, not of affection, but of pleading.

She slowly, almost weakly, turned in that embrace. Facing her. The one who had held herself, everyone, discipline, feelings—all this time—and now trembled. The weakness came not from the body, but from the shock endured. Jaeyi's lip was split. The blood had dried, but its traces still sharply cut the eyes.

"You?.. Are you okay?.."—Seulgi exhaled, not even understanding if it was a question.

She grabbed Jaeyi's face with her palms—gently, but with feverish necessity. As if checking: is she really standing before her? Is she alive? Real? Her thumbs gently slid over her cheekbones, forehead, chin, as if wanting to erase both pain and blood, the awful moment. To leave behind only breath. Only eyes.

And those eyes were trembling. So were her lashes. Jaeyi said nothing. She just gave the smallest nod. But it was enough. Enough to steal the breath from Seulgi’s lungs. Enough to make her chest ache.

Because that nod said, I’m here.

Seulgi was still holding her face — warm fingers against cold skin.
She looked into her eyes — and what she saw there wasn’t blood, or the crowd behind them, or the teachers approaching like a storm on the horizon.

All she saw was herself.

And in that moment, time seemed to dissolve in the air like frost under sunlight.
The world shrank to just two points: warm hands on flushed cheeks, and lips — split, silent.

Only breath.

Only closeness.

Only this moment — unrepeatable, unforgettable.

And then— A click. Soft. Not in her ears, but somewhere deep inside. As if something shifted. Flipped. As if the last lock in Seulgi’s chest gave way, and all the water she’d held behind that dam — Poured out.

And she understood.

That was it.

That was what had been hiding in her scars. In the irritation, the jealousy, the care. In the anger, in the laughter, in the fights. In the silence. All this time, she hadn’t just looked at Jaeyi. She had *lived* through her. Lived through the way she walked down the hall with her back straight. The way she pressed her lips when she was angry. The way she held herself always—even when she was falling apart inside.

And now… Now she stood before her, shaking, bleeding— And still unshakable.

Something swelled inside Seulgi, too big to be called just a *feeling*. It wasn’t a crush. It was loyalty. Fierce. Wordless. Irreversible.

Her hand trembled slightly as her thumb brushed along Jaeyi’s cheek, wiping away imaginary dust.

She didn’t need to. Jaeyi was looking at her—silent, steady, like she heard everything Seulgi couldn’t say.

And in that look, there was something that made Seulgi’s knees weaken.

*If I let you go now,* she thought, *I might never find you like this again. Real. Alive. The one who’s not hiding.*

And so she didn’t let go.

Not because she was afraid— But because, finally, She had found her.

The crowd parted. Teachers rushed in. Voices filled the hallway again.

“What’s going on here?!”

“Who started the fight?!”

“Who hit her?!”

Seulgi opened her mouth to speak—to explain, maybe even to scream—
But Jaeyi stepped forward, pushing Seulgi gently behind her.

“Three people attacked the student council president,” she said, voice level. “There are witnesses. Seulgi defended herself. I’m confirming it—as head of the disciplinary council.”

The teachers exchanged looks. One started arguing. Another threatened to escalate.
But Jaeyi didn’t budge. Not an inch.

There was steel in her voice, cold and composed— But Seulgi knew: it wasn’t for herself. It was for her.

And in that moment, Seulgi realized: That was it. She was gone.

Because this girl stood in front of everyone and protected her— Not with fists. With the truth. Against power. Against chaos. She stepped in when no one else could. And took the blow for her.

“I…”

Seulgi tried to say something—she didn’t even know what.

“Shh. Later,” Jaeyi whispered—softly. Almost tender.

Yeri and Kyeong approached. Both looked tense, both trying hard to seem calm.

“Infirmary. Now,” Kyeong said. “Both of you.”

Seulgi nodded. She went. But she didn’t let go of Jaeyi’s hand.

Because she knew—if she did, the mask would return. That frozen, unreachable calm. But as long as their fingers were intertwined— She was still here. Still real. Still the one who saved her.

And Seulgi couldn’t let that go. Not anymore.

---

The infirmary smelled like antiseptic, cotton, and something… familiar. Not *cozy*—no. More like the scent of a home you’d been kicked out of more than once.

Seulgi sat on the edge of the cot, feeling the skin on her back pull tight—whether from the pain in her ribs, or shame. Or guilt. Or the fire still smoldering in her chest.

The nurse turned—and her expression flickered from surprise to irritation.
But the moment she saw Jaeyi’s split lip, her face changed completely.

“Oh no,” she breathed, rushing toward the cabinet for bandages and peroxide. “President—”

When her gaze dropped to Seulgi, she only rolled her eyes and muttered, like it was routine:

“You again? I thought you’d made a permanent dent in my wall. How many more times, Seulgi?”

A blow. Soft, but precise—Like her words struck deeper than fists ever had in back alley fights.

But before Seulgi could say a thing, Jaeyi’s voice cut through the air. Clear. Controlled. But trembling.

“It’s not her fault.” Her voice cracked on the last word. “Seulgi saved me.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow—but said nothing. Something in Jaeyi’s voice, in her direct, slightly shaking gaze, left no room for doubt.

Seulgi looked down. Oddly ashamed.
Not because of the fight. But because the one she had protected—was now protecting her.

*Why are you doing this, Jaeyi? Why… for me?*

Yeri stood off to the side, arms crossed, eyes flashing.

“I thought they were gonna haul you off, you idiot,” she muttered—then let out a short, cracked laugh. It trembled, like it was the only thing holding back tears. “Or worse… expel you. You scared the hell out of me, got it?”

And finally, the tears came. Real ones. Alive. Yeri didn’t even try to wipe them away—just looked at Seulgi like she might disappear at any moment.

Kyeong sighed, leaning against the wall.

“When you saw her bleeding…” Her voice was tired. Almost philosophical. “You stopped being yourself. It was… terrifying. And… okay, kind of romantic. But mostly terrifying.”

Seulgi snorted. Her cheeks burned. She glanced at Jaeyi— And their eyes met.

Held.

Jaeyi looked away, quickly— But the corners of her lips twitched. Just barely. Like a shadow of a smile. Like a confession without words.

*Damn it. How do you do this to me? Just one look and I forget who I am.*

The nurse silently cleaned Jaeyi’s wound. Gentle. Almost reverent. Jaeyi didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Only her eyes wandered—now and then—to Seulgi. No judgment. No fear. Only warmth. Unasked for. Inconvenient. But right. Real.

*Thank you,* that look seemed to say.
And something else, too.

“Keep an eye on these two,” the nurse muttered to Kyeong and Yeri.
“Especially this one.” She pointed at Seulgi.
“Too many storms in one person.”

Seulgi wanted to joke.
Something about thunder and hurricanes.
But nothing came out.
The words stuck in her throat.

Because just then, Jaeyi took her hand. Fingers—warm. Steady. No glance. No explanation. Just *there.*

And the noise— All of it—The world—Fell away.

Like before. On the edge of something.

*Are you holding me? Or am I holding you? What’s the difference anymore.*

…

When they stepped back into the hallway, the air felt different. Heavier. Slower. People parted like flame was walking through them. No one dared speak. Some looked away. Others stared too long.

Seulgi could feel every shift of Jaeyi’s fingers in her hand. She didn’t let go. Didn’t want to.

Their eyes met.

And stayed.

*You feel it too, don’t you? This... us. Whatever it means.*

For the rest of the day, the school held its breath.

No one stopped them. No one dared approach. In front of Seulgi, people stepped aside. Carefully. With fear. With respect.

And Jaeyi—they looked at her differently now. Not like an ice-cold summit no one could reach. But as a force. Calm. Dangerous. Still untouchable.

But no longer just fame around her.

Now—there was a shadow.
Seulgi’s shadow.

They walked side by side.

Like storm and frost.
Like fire and night.

And the rest of the world—

Stepped back. One step. One word. One breath.

And only between their fingers—Silence pulsed.

Real.

Alive.

And theirs.

---

History class ended ten minutes late. The air in the room was stale, heavy with the smell of damp coats, dust, and ink. Seulgi sat by the window, her right hand half-hidden under the desk, fingers gripping the edge of the seat — just to distract herself. To not show it.

The doctor’s words sounded distant, clinical. But the pain — the pain was close. Real. It didn’t return sharply, didn’t burn. It crept in, like ice water down her spine. First the numbness, then the dull, dragging spasm, as if something was twisting inside her. Sometimes, it stabbed under her ribs like a needle.

Right now was one of those times.

When Seulgi reached for the pen she’d dropped, her nose wrinkled slightly, she held her breath and leaned sideways. The pain slashed instantly — not enough to scream, but enough to leave a metallic taste on her tongue.

She straightened quickly and glanced around. No one had noticed.

Almost no one.

Jaeyi was sitting in the middle row, two rows ahead, turned halfway in her seat. She saw. She saw Seulgi’s shoulders flinch. Saw her fingers clench. Saw — through the mask of indifference — the flicker of something Seulgi tried to hide: weakness.

Jaeyi’s heart tightened. She remembered that morning — Seulgi’s fury, clenched fists, blood on Jaeyi’s own lip… and that look. The look of an animal protecting its own.

And now, in this quiet, dull, suffocating classroom reality — Seulgi was in pain. And telling no one.

*Why do you always endure it in silence? Why do you think you don’t have the right to hurt?*

She watched. Watched with the same focus she once used to analyze reports and strategic diagrams. But now — there was something else in that focus. Something that burned under her ribs, that rose in her throat and demanded: Go. Say something. Do something.

But instead, she simply stood up when the bell rang. Slowly. Unhurriedly. Let everyone else leave. And only when Seulgi got up — she stepped in close.

"You're feeling it again?" — soft. Almost a whisper. So no one else could hear. But her voice was firm, like ice.

Seulgi flinched. Not from the pain — from being seen.

"What?..” she tried to deflect. “It’s nothing.”

But Jaeyi’s look stopped her. Deep. Too perceptive.

"Don’t lie to me."

Seulgi lowered her eyes. Her fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack.

"Sometimes... it pulls. My side. It’s nothing. I just moved too fast."

Jaeyi exhaled slowly. She wanted to say something like *You shouldn’t hide this*, but said nothing.

…Seulgi looked at her. For a long time. In silence.

And for the first time all day — let herself exhale.

The pain remained. Pulled. Reminded her. But something in that look, in Jaeyi’s presence — made it bearable. As if someone truly saw her and didn’t look away. Didn’t turn from it.

Jaeyi slipped a hand into her blazer pocket, took out a small tube, and without looking, placed it into Seulgi’s palm. The motion — precise, firm.

"Put this on. Today. Twice. No arguments," her voice was steady, but there was something in it that made Seulgi shiver slightly. It wasn’t just sternness — it was care. Quiet, prickly, real.

Seulgi nodded. Said nothing. But inside, a strange warm tension spread — like she’d done something wrong again… and was still seen. Still accepted.

"I’ll make sure," Jaeyi added. Quieter now. Almost like a warning.

Then she turned and walked toward the door.

And Seulgi was left standing there, the tube in her hand, her heart beating faster. Because Jaeyi’s restrained coldness — that strict, almost emotionless tone — wrapped tighter than any embrace.

*You’re angry with me… because you care. Because to you — I’m not just anyone.*

She watched her go and smiled. Barely.

Because even in Jaeyi’s severity — there was warmth. The kind that saves. From pain, from loneliness.

And maybe… from herself.

---

The locker room was quiet, like it had exhaled along with Seulgi. In the dim light of the desk lamp, her skin looked pale, almost translucent. She sat, half-undressed, shirt rolled up, trying once again to apply the ointment to the inflamed stitch. The pain in her side was thick, deep — not the kind that screams, but the kind that whispers from inside: *I’m still here. I remember how they hurt you.*

With each press of her fingers against her skin, it felt like something under her ribs might crack. Like the silence she held there was about to split.

“Owwww… fuck,” she whispered, wincing. The words slipped out on their own.

And then — the door opened quietly.

“You even curse under your breath when you’re alone,” Jaeyi said from the doorway. No hint of surprise in her voice. Just that tired, quiet cold — like the air before rain.

Seulgi startled and quickly hid the ointment behind her back, like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.

“You walk like a damn shadow,” she muttered. “Then act shocked when I jump out of my skin.”

“And you’re like a disaster. Loud from afar, but the real damage happens up close.”

She walked in. Unhurried. As if she knew: every step was a step toward something fragile. She sat beside her. Very close. Their knees almost touched.

“Give it,” Jaeyi said, holding out her hand.

Seulgi hesitated. Bare skin, her exposed side… she would see everything. Too close. Too honest.

“I’m nearly shirtless, you know. And you still haven’t asked me out,” she said, half-joking, half because she couldn’t help herself.

Jaeyi froze. Her gaze sharpened, but the faintest blush lit up her cheeks.

“With you, it’s better to whisper. Fewer stupid things get said,” she replied quietly, taking the tube. “Don’t move.”

Seulgi didn’t. Not because she was afraid — but because every cell in her body was listening.

The first touches were barely there. Light as breath. The ointment was cold, but her fingers — warmer than expected.

She didn’t just apply it. She moved slowly over the inflamed skin, rubbing it in with such care, as if she knew a little too much pressure might steal her breath away.

And it did — Seulgi breathed in raggedly. She bit her lip, doing everything she could not to reveal how much she was unraveling with each gentle, gliding motion. Where Jaeyi’s hand passed — silence followed. And a hum. A hum of blood, of heartbeat, of wanting to grab her wrist and not let go.

Jaeyi’s hand shifted slightly — lower. To the sensitive spot at the edge of her rib. Seulgi shut her eyes tight.

*If you say anything now, I swear I’m going to pass out.*

And when Jaeyi swept her fingers across the inflamed skin, Seulgi almost whimpered. Her chest tightened, like she’d been holding her breath too long.

*How does she do this? So gently. So seriously. Like it matters. Too much.*

“Does it hurt?” Jaeyi asked, not meeting her eyes.

“Only when you pull your hand away,” it slipped out.

A pause. The silence thickened, heavy as the air before a storm.

But Jaeyi didn’t leave. On the contrary — her fingers pressed closer to the rib’s edge, gentler. She moved in slow circles, rubbing the ointment in. Where the skin was most sensitive. Where touch was already nearly a kiss.

Seulgi gasped. Her hands clenched the fabric beneath her. She didn’t know what to feel — joy or fear.

*This is more than help. She touches me like she’s afraid I’ll fall apart. Or that she will.*

In every movement Jaeyi made, there was restraint. Not in healing — but in holding back.

In not letting her hand linger too long.

In not letting her eyes fall where bare skin trembled not from cold, but from her touch.

“I’ll check. Twice a day,” Jaeyi said softly, finishing. Her voice was lower now. Almost hoarse. “You have to stay whole.”

Seulgi looked at her like you look at something impossible. At someone who believes in you — even when you can’t believe in yourself.

“What if I forget?” she asked, barely audible. “Pretend to forget. Just so you’ll come. So we can… be like this again.”

Jaeyi looked up. And in that moment, her strict gaze cracked. Just for a second.

“Then I’ll come. But next time — without the ointment.”

Seulgi smiled. Too wide. Too foolish.

But inside, everything was burning. Because now she knew for sure: this wasn’t just care. This was cautious, restrained love. The kind that hides beneath bandages, beneath ointment, beneath stern words. But still — grows.

---

Jaeyi had nearly disappeared around the corner when Seulgi burst out the door, holding—yes, that ointment.

“Hey!” she gasped, catching up. “Is it even legal to leave without saying goodbye? You *are* the student council president, you know!”

Jaeyi turned. Her face was unreadable. Eyebrows slightly raised. She didn’t say a word. Just waited.

Seulgi stopped beside her, adjusted the strap of her backpack, and said casually, “You know, this ointment... it smells like someone boiled mint, grandma’s herbs, and a little bit of spite. I’m pretty sure you just want me to suffer. Is this your personal vendetta?”

“I want you to heal,” Jaeyi said calmly. Then, a bit more firmly: “And I want you to apply it. Every day.”

“That sounds like a threat.”

“It sounds like instructions.”

They walked side by side. The streets already breathed of evening—those special sounds when everything feels on the edge of sleep. Seulgi walked with her usual casual ease, but every now and then she glanced at Jaeyi. And each time, she wondered: how can someone be so... composed? So strong, like nothing—wind, eyes, feelings—can pierce through?

And still she said, “I thought you'd tell me again to stay out of it. But you helped me. The ointment. Everything… So, thanks. For that.”

“You were bleeding. Stubborn. Reckless. But... you were on my side,” Jaeyi said. “I won’t forget that.”

Seulgi smiled.

“Then I definitely earned not just three but the full five milligrams of this awful ointment. Heroism bonus.”

Silence. A half step. Then Jaeyi said suddenly, eyes still forward:

“You... distract from pain too easily.”

“It’s a talent,” Seulgi snapped her fingers. “Or a defense mechanism. Want me to teach you?”

Jaeyi didn’t answer. But something in her face shifted. Not a smile. No. But her gaze softened... just a little. Like, for a second, she allowed herself to feel. To let in a light she usually hides from.

...They walked in silence. Sometimes almost in sync, sometimes a step apart. Evening covered the streets in gentle shadow, the air growing damper, tinged with greenery and the far-off scent of the coming night. Jaeyi didn’t look at Seulgi, but she knew: she was there. Like always. Like she belonged there.

Then a corner, another turn—and there it was, the giant concrete fence.

Seulgi stopped, leaned against a post, arms crossed casually.

“Here we are, President.”

Jaeyi turned to her. Something flickered in her eyes—surprise, quiet and barely visible.

“You... were going to walk me all the way home?”

“Well, obviously,” Seulgi snorted. “I'm your personal bodyguard now, with ointment in hand. I’m not leaving until I know you’re safe and indoors—no backing out.”

Jaeyi exhaled slowly, lowering her gaze. As if trying not to show how deeply those words struck her.

“That’s... not necessary,” she said more softly. Then, a bit stricter: “Don’t make a habit of it.”

“Too late,” Seulgi grinned. “I get attached easily. Especially to you.”

The words hung between them. Unfiltered. Unprotected. But Seulgi didn’t look away. Her face was open—almost foolishly honest.

Jaeyi didn’t reply right away. She just stood there, looking at Seulgi. In her eyes—fatigue, distrust, caution… and something else. Something Seulgi couldn’t name, but felt in her skin.

“You’re weird,” Jaeyi finally said.

“Everyone’s weird next to you.”

“No,” Jaeyi said curtly. “But you especially.”

Seulgi laughed softly, but sincerely, from deep within. Her smile was gentle. Real.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t.”

Silence. At the gate. Night covered them like a blanket.

“Alright. I’ll go. Wouldn’t want you thinking I’m clingy,” Seulgi said, taking a step back but not breaking eye contact.

“You are clingy,” Jaeyi replied evenly. No judgment. No smile. Just… stating a fact.

Seulgi froze. Then gave a small, almost serious nod.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

No “see you tomorrow,” no “bye.” Just a look. Too long. Too honest. Too... important.

Then Seulgi turned and walked away. Without looking back. Because she knew: Jaeyi was watching her go. And that—was enough.

And Seulgi was over the moon.

---

The house greeted her with soft hallway lights and the smell of something sweet—cinnamon, plums, and vanilla. Her stepmom, Woo Min, stood in the kitchen wearing a robe, her hair up in a bun, a light home-wear lipstick on—“just in case,” as she always said.

“Seulgi?” came a voice from the kitchen. “Did you have dinner?”

“Yeah,” Seulgi called back, kicking off her sneakers. “We ate at the cafeteria. Eh, you know.”

Woo Min stepped out, drying her hands with a towel. There was no pressure in her eyes, no hovering concern—just attentive warmth. The kind not all adults manage. The kind that doesn’t press, just... stays near.

“How was your day?” she asked, sitting on the armrest of the couch. “You look like someone who’s either been cared for... or hit over the head with care.”

Seulgi smirked. She wanted to joke, like always—but instead, she suddenly felt... warm. Like, for a second, she didn’t have to hide.

“It was mixed,” she said, stepping closer. “But... now it feels okay.”

Woo Min nodded.

“Then go rest. And change, don’t just collapse onto your bed in your school uniform like some wounded soldier.”

Seulgi smiled—this time honestly.

“I’m not wounded. Almost healed.”

“Almost doesn’t count,” Woo Min replied, with a soft sternness. “Go. Shower, pajamas. And if something’s eating at you—you know where I am.”

Seulgi nodded. And went to her room.

---

Her room greeted her with silence. The usual lamp-cast shadow on the wall, the slightly creased pillows. Same as always. But something had shifted.

She sat on the bed. Carefully. Her side still ached—not sharply, but it was there. The ointment’s warmth lingered on her skin, and... so did the touches. Subtle. Careful. Hot.

Seulgi closed her eyes.

*The way she touched me… it wasn’t just about the wound. Like she was afraid I might fall apart from a single touch. Or—like she might.*

She sighed, no longer hiding the smile. Her cheeks burned.

“Oh god,” she whispered, collapsing onto the pillows. “What are you doing to me, Jaeyi?”

Her heart was beating somewhere too high in her chest. Like it had forgotten the way back down. Then something clicked, and Seulgi sat up, glancing around the room.

“Wait a sec…”

She tossed aside the pillows. Checked under the bed. Under the desk. In the drawer. In her backpack. Behind the curtain—for some reason. The closet. The sock basket. And back under the bed.

“Where is he?..”

A tiny plush bear, the one that looked like Jaeyi—with a permanently grumpy face and impossibly soft paws. He’d always been with her. Even in the hospital. Even when everything hurt—especially inside.

“Yeri,” she whispered and immediately grabbed her phone.

**Seulgi [9:03 PM]:**
hey, you haven’t seen my bear, have you? the grumpy one

**Yeri [9:05 PM]:**
*that* one?
didn’t Jaeyi give him back to you?..

Seulgi froze. The screen pulsed back at her—heartbeat in her ears.

**Seulgi [9:05 PM]:**
no
she...
she didn’t say anything about him

**Yeri [9:06 PM]:**
weird
she definitely took him
said she’d give him to you as soon as she saw you
she didn’t…?

**Seulgi \[9:07 PM]:**
no

The reply hung there. Like a splinter.

She stared at the screen, her fingers slightly trembling. In her head—a stupid, misplaced warmth.

*Why didn’t she give him back?.. Did she forget? Or…*

Seulgi threw the phone onto the bed, lay on her back. Covered her face with a hand.

“She’s sleeping with him, isn’t she?” she mumbled into the silence, then buried her face in the pillow. “God, what is happening to me. I’m jealous of my own bear...”

And still, her heart beat on. Too loud. Too alive. Like it knew: something’s changing. Something is slipping out of the jokes—and becoming real.

And that night, Seulgi fell asleep imagining Jaeyi holding her bear. Gently. Just like she held her.

---

Jaeyi’s room was perfect.

Strict order. No random details. No chaos, no dust.

Except for one thing.

On the nightstand beside the bed, barely visible in the soft light of the desk lamp, lay a plush teddy bear. Frowning. With a slightly crooked ribbon around its neck.

Jaeyi stood by the door, leaning against the frame, and had been staring at it for several minutes. Like it was evidence. Like it didn’t belong in the structure of her existence.

She didn’t like anything extra. Not in her space, not in her life. But this bear wasn’t extra. It was… her weakness. Or maybe her boundary—past which things started to mean more than she could admit.

She sat on the edge of the bed. Picked up the toy.

The fabric was a little rough, smelled like someone else’s home. Or a hospital. Or Seulgi. And that endless, impossible thing—her laugh.

*I should’ve given it back back then. When I came to the hospital room. When you were sleeping with your mouth slightly open, and your face looked so peaceful it scared me. Scared me that if I gave it to you—you’d take it, leave, and never look back.*

She pressed the toy to her chest. It was stupid. Childish. Pathetic.

But there was something in it she missed—something simple. A touch of something that belonged to Seulgi. Something that had been next to her when she was vulnerable. Something she held at night when no one could see her hands shaking.

*I’m holding this because otherwise...*

“…I wouldn’t have made it,” she whispered, into the empty room.

Jaeyi simply lay down on the bed. Turned onto her side. The bear—beside her. And suddenly, the silence in the room felt… alive.

*Tomorrow. Maybe. If I can. If she looks at me again like she did today. Like she believes I’m not just cold. That I could be something… soft. Even if only for a minute.*

She closed her eyes.

*Tomorrow. Just don’t lose that look.*

---

Night had fully settled in Yeri’s room. The window was cracked open, curtains swaying ever so slightly in the breeze, and her phone cast a dim glow into the half-dark.

**Yeri [12:41 AM]:**
Did you know Jaeyi never gave her the bear?

No reply came right away. A few long seconds—and then just three dots, pulsing like hesitation in someone else's heart.

**Kyeong [12:43 AM]:**
…no
maybe she's scared
or… doesn’t want to let go

Yeri bit her lip. Sank into the pillow. Her fingers were already typing again.

**Yeri [12:43 AM]:**
Scared?
She’s the *last* person who looks scared

**Kyeong [12:44 AM]:**
and you think
fear always shows?

Yeri paused. Then let out a soft breath and typed:

**Yeri [12:44 AM]:**
uh-oh, we’re getting philosophical
look at you, being all deep, Kyeong

**Kyeong [12:45 AM]:**
and you’re not deep at all?

**Yeri [12:45 AM]:**
depends who I’m talking to
but if you want… I *can* be
very serious—just with you

A beat of silence. Yeri started to wonder if she’d pushed too far. But then:

**Kyeong [12:46 AM]:**
Yeri
you should go to sleep

Yeri smiled—still, something stung a little. Simple message. But it felt like a wall. She was about to let it go when another bubble appeared.

**Kyeong [12:46 AM]:**
before I start texting you things
you *really* won’t be able to sleep after

Yeri froze.

Heat flared under her skin—her chest, her neck, especially her cheeks. She buried her face in the pillow, stifling a groan, like someone had just said out loud the exact thing she was secretly imagining.

**Yeri [12:47 AM]:**
…promise?

Silence.

**Kyeong [12:47 AM]:**
nope
I’m being good
but if you keep going—who knows

Yeri shut her eyes, hugging the phone to her chest. Her heart was beating somewhere between her throat and the stars.

Elsewhere, in her own room, Kyeong stared at the screen, cheeks burning red. She leaned back slowly and typed, deliberately:

**Kyeong [12:48 AM]:**
good night, Yer
try *not* to show up in my dreams
I really need some sleep tonight

Yeri smirked, face buried in her pillow, and fired back:

**Yeri [12:48 AM]:**
no promises
I’m annoyingly persistent
especially in *your* dreams

And that was it.

The night breathed quiet meaning. Two phones glowed faintly in the dark—next to two hearts not ready to confess.
But already decided.

Tonight smelled like something new...

Chapter Text

**From Seulgi’s POV**

The morning at school was damp and cool, and the air seemed to tremble with tension and unspoken words. I was walking down the hallway when I saw her—Jaeyi. She was standing by her locker, slightly turned toward the wall, but I noticed her lip was a bit swollen, a faint bruise blooming on it.

Without thinking, I walked up far too close—too close for it to be brushed off as an accident. My heart pounded faster, but I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned in slowly, stepping right into her space.

"Let me," I said quietly, and like I was moving through a dream, I gently brushed my finger along her lip, examining the swelling. Where the hell did I get this kind of boldness? I had no idea. Maybe it was some mix of instinct to protect her and that strange fire that always sparked inside me when she was near.

Jaeyi froze, her eyes widening, and a soft flush bloomed across her cheeks. She didn’t pull away—though I could feel she was right on the edge—and that only made my heart beat harder.

Then, barely above a whisper, she said:

"You’re insane, Seulgi."

I smiled, not breaking eye contact, and murmured back:

"Maybe. But I’m your insane."

Right then, Yeri walked into the hallway at the perfect time—two cups of coffee in hand, with a grin that screamed *I saw everything*. She stopped next to us, gave me and Jaeyi a knowing once-over, and quipped:

"Alright, lovebirds, that’s enough flirting. This is school, not a date."

Kyeong appeared a moment later, arms crossed, shooting us a dry look before adding:

"If your flirting helped you pass exams, I’d at least see the point."

Jaeyi, cheeks still lightly flushed, grabbed her stuff and followed after them without a word, like she needed to escape the heat in the air. And me? I stood there grinning from ear to ear, knowing that this was one of those moments I’d want to remember forever.

---

We were standing by the vending machines in the school courtyard, where the pale sunlight was struggling to break through the clouds, waiting for Jaeyi. Yeri was sitting on a bench, swinging her leg, while Kyeong leaned against a column with a bottle of green tea in hand.

"You're being unusually energetic today," Yeri noted, squinting at me. "First the scene at the lockers, now you're standing here like the lead in the finale of a drama."

"Don’t start," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"No, really," Kyeong chimed in, with that perfectly flat tone of hers that somehow managed to sound both indifferent and sharp. "Do you even realize how you look at her?"

I looked away and stuffed my hands into my pockets.

"I’m just... looking. What? I always look. That’s what eyes are for."

"Mmm," Yeri hummed, a sly smile forming as she lined up her shot. "Well, your eyes clearly have a romantic filter on, because you’re staring at Jaeyi like she’s the last ice cream in a July heatwave."

I snorted, but my ears were already burning.

"That’s ridiculous. You’re both ridiculous. I’m just..." I trailed off, then sighed and gave in. "Okay. I like Jaeyi. Happy now? I really like her. I don’t even know when it started, but... it’s like..."

I stopped, trying to find the words, and then behind me came a voice:

"Like what?"

I spun around so fast I nearly dropped my bottle. Right behind me stood Jaeyi, one brow raised and a hint of surprise on her face.

"N-nothing!" I blurted out. "We were just... talking... about the weather. Yeah! The weather. So... interesting, right?"

Yeri and Kyeong burst into laughter, not even trying to hide it.

"You're all red," Jaeyi said as she stepped closer. "Are you sure you don't have a fever?"

Before I could react, she lifted her hand and gently placed her palm on my forehead. Her touch was cool, and the moment it connected, my knees nearly buckled—it felt like the whole world tilted.

"N-no, I’m fine," I mumbled. "Just... sunstroke. Or sudden embarrassment. That’s a diagnosis too."

"Chronic," Kyeong added quietly, with a smirk.

"With cardiac complications," Yeri giggled under her breath.

I tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t hold it, and ended up laughing with them. Jaeyi shook her head slightly, but there was that rare, soft smile on her lips—the kind that made my heart skip all over again.

"Well then," Yeri said, standing up, "shall we finally go eat, lovebirds? Before this turns into episode two of a romantic coma."

And so, still laughing, the four of us walked off together. Every step felt a little lighter, and something still burned inside me… but in the best way.

***

A few months had passed.

The school was still the same: gray hallways, bells, roll calls, water dispensers that always ran out at the worst possible moment. But something had changed. Or rather, someone had.

Yeri, Kyeong, Seulgi, and Jaeyi were together more often now. So often, in fact, that no one else really batted an eye anymore: “Those four are on the same couch again,” “Lunch together, as always,” “Kyeong’s sighing again, and Yeri’s babbling next to her.” Everything felt… softer. Warmer. Cozier.

Even the usual banter at lunch had taken on the rhythm of a ritual.

“If you took my juice again…” Kyeong would begin, eyes still glued to her textbook.

“Me? Never!” Yeri would gasp, clutching her chest dramatically—while taking another sip.

“You’re going to jail for theft,” Kyeong would add calmly. “And as your future lawyer, I refuse to defend you.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to kiss you in court to change your mind,” Yeri would say sweetly, her gaze hitting its mark with precision.

Kyeong opened her mouth, then bit her lip. A flush crept up her cheeks, nearly scarlet. She turned away, hiding behind her textbook like a shield.

Yeri beamed. Bullseye.

Meanwhile, Seulgi was munching on an apple, sitting next to Jaeyi on the back steps of the school—they were hiding again from the cafeteria, always too loud on Mondays.

Jaeyi was absurdly picky about food. Today’s meal: a tiny container of boiled broccoli, two slices of tofu, and a bottle of cold green tea.

Seulgi watched with interest, resting her chin on her hand.

“Hey,” she said. “Are you sure you’re not from some other universe?”

“What?”

“I mean… who eats that willingly? That’s not food, it’s punishment.”

Jaeyi didn’t bother replying. Just raised an eyebrow.

Seulgi snorted.

“Okay, okay. Bon appétit, broccoli warrior. If you start glowing from purity, let me know so I can put on sunglasses.”

Jaeyi looked down, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the tiniest twitch.

---

Ever since the day Jaeyi brought Seulgi that ointment, something between them had shifted.

Not in words. Not in actions. It was just… there. In the air.

In how their glances lingered longer. How casual touches started to feel natural. In the rare smirks that went unhidden—and unexplained.

Even if Jaeyi still wore her mask of cool detachment, Seulgi saw through it. Beneath it—something trembled. A careful, flickering warmth.

And Jaeyi… Jaeyi knew Seulgi saw it. She felt it every time her breath caught when Seulgi launched herself her way with some ridiculous comment. Every time her heart leapt when Seulgi laughed—so light, so honest, too close.

Once—Jaeyi scoffed. Another time—she quickly dropped her gaze to hide a smile. But Seulgi saw. And of course, she remembered.

From that day on, Seulgi was hardly ever far from Jaeyi. Between classes, after school, at club meetings. Even if she didn’t participate—she’d just sit nearby, with a face that said, “Just passing through, don’t mind me.”

“Why are you always following me?” Jaeyi finally asked one day, unable to hold back.

Seulgi shrugged.

“Well, life’s gotten boring. No fights, no brooding, dramatic president with a permanent scowl. Just lunch and free periods. Gotta find some entertainment.”

“So, I'm entertainment for you??” Jaeyi’s voice was dangerously calm.

“I prefer the word ‘inspiration.’”

“Seulgi, do you want to go back on the troublemakers’ list?” Jaeyi narrowed her eyes, but her tone lacked its usual edge—just a strict note that was almost familiar now.

“Maybe just on your personal list,” Seulgi tossed back.

Jaeyi bit her lip but turned away instead of replying. Her slender fingers tightened around her folder, and only her cheeks gave her away—flushed just a little pink.

---

Seulgi really didn’t fight anymore.

Maybe just because she didn’t need to. There were fewer incidents. Word had it the student council president had some “conversations” with certain people. But even when someone did approach—one look from Seulgi was enough. Not threatening. Just direct. People backed off.

“You’ve gotten boring,” Yeri teased her once.

“Yup. Boring but bruise-free,” Seulgi said, tossing a pillow at her.

---

And the teddy bear?

It was still with Jaeyi.

Lying in the drawer of her bedside table. She’d held it in her hands a few times. Thought—*Now. I’ll just… give it back.* But every time, she froze.

Too much time had passed. Too many things left unsaid. And how do you even start? “Here’s your bear, sorry I’ve had it for three months because…” Because she was scared? Because she wanted to keep a piece of Seulgi close?

Sometimes she placed it beside her before bed. Just to remind herself she still might be brave enough—someday.

Someday hadn’t come yet.

---

After school, Seulgi almost always walked Jaeyi home.

At first—“coincidentally” took the same route. Then—didn’t even pretend anymore.

“You do know I can get home by myself, right?” Jaeyi frowned when it happened for the tenth time.

“Sure. But if you get lost, who’s gonna cry over your broccoli?”

“You’re insane,” Jaeyi said flatly.

“Not arguing. But you’re walking next to me, so maybe think about what that says about you.”

Sometimes they talked the whole way. Sometimes they didn’t. But it was a good kind of silence. Warm. Full of glances and the occasional brush of shoulders. Once, Seulgi said:

“You could at least say thank you once. I mean, I’m basically your bodyguard, court jester, and personal companion all in one…”

Jaeyi looked at her suddenly, and said quietly:

“Thank you.”

And Seulgi fell silent. Because sometimes, one word could sound like a confession.

---

Kyeong was still a little cold.

Yeri called it “strategic detachment.” But really, she was just different. Calm. Rational. Legally measured, as she liked to joke about herself.

And yet—she smiled more often now.

Especially when Yeri put on one of her dramatic locker performances.

“I… fell. And wounded my heart. I need help. Only you can save me.”

“I’m not a doctor,” Kyeong replied flatly.

“Then just stay with me. At least let my final moments be warm,” Yeri sighed, laying her head on Kyeong’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be allowed near a stage. It’d be a health crisis,” Kyeong answered. And—yes—smiled. Just a little.

That was all Yeri needed.

Sometimes, when Yeri turned away, Kyeong would watch her a moment too long. As if trying to figure out when this impossible, loud, radiant girl had quietly become so important.

---

They were still standing at a crossroads.

Words — left unspoken. Touches — left unexplained. And yet, somewhere between the silence and the laughter, between the lines and the sighs, something was already unfolding.

Maybe not love.
Not yet.

But — a sure and steady sketch of it.

And beyond the windows — sunlight. Stillness. A warmth like a hand held just a little longer than it should be.

***

The school smelled like something fried from the cafeteria and damp textbooks — the morning rain had spared no one’s backpack or shoes. Even the air inside felt heavy and wet.

In the library, where Seulgi and Kyeong were on duty, it was especially quiet. Dust hung in the air, almost tangible, and the rustle of pages sounded louder than it should.

Yeri  yawned with a loud, theatrical sigh, sprawled across a little couch, while Seulgi sat at the table, clicking her pen — rhythmically, stubbornly, as if the sound helped her think.

“You’re clicking again. Like that’s gonna make the world a nicer place,” Jaeyi muttered, not looking up from her paperwork. She was pretending to be focused, but every click landed in her like a nerve strike.

“Maybe it will,” Seulgi smirked, not stopping.

Yeri giggled, lifting her head lazily.

“There’s so much chemistry in the air I can feel my brain starting to sizzle. Are you two in love or something?”

Seulgi snorted and hid behind her notebook, but her cheeks flared red.
Jaeyi didn’t answer — her eyes just sharpened like a blade, before dropping back to the complaint forms like they were her shield.

Later, Seulgi stood up — she had to bring a signed sheet to the archive. She stepped out into the hallway. A few minutes later, he showed up outside the library.

A stranger. Tall. His smile soft, like early light. His hair messy, like he’d just taken off a hood.

“Hey, you helped me that time. Remember?” He leaned in a little. “At the gates, when I fell off my board. You were the first one to come over.”

Seulgi frowned at first, then broke into a grin.

“Oh! I thought you died.”

He laughed — clear and warm. The damp hallway felt a little brighter.

“Alive and well. Even better when I see you. You’re like a superhero — save me and vanish. Maybe coffee after school?”

“I…” she hesitated. “I’m more of a tea person.”

“Perfect. My treat. How about milk oolong?”

“I don’t drink cow’s… I mean, uh… sure. Oolong’s fine.”

Jaeyi saw it all. From behind the shelf. Her heart was pounding like a trapped bird. Her fingers clenched until her knuckles went pale. Her eyes locked onto him — how he leaned in, how he laughed, how close he stood. How Seulgi smiled back, not even realizing it.

*Seriously?*
*You don’t even notice?*
*You’re always so open. So naive.*

“You’re pissed, huh?” Yeri was suddenly beside her, voice soft, almost tender.

“I’m not.” But Jaeyi’s voice cracked.

She could feel jealousy clawing at her from the inside, the ache rising in her throat like a burn.

“Uh-huh,” Yeri smirked. “Then why are you looking at him like he stole your dog?”

From that day, he started showing up more often. Way too often.

He hovered near Seulgi, always close. Cracking jokes, throwing comments around, brushing her shoulder. Seulgi thought he was just “that kind of person.”

“She really thinks he just wants to talk about the weather,” Yeri snorted.

“And fall in love while he’s at it,” Kyeong added.

“This isn’t funny,” Jaeyi hissed, staring out the window — where they were again. Him and Seulgi.

---

Evening settled over the school in shades of gray. The air was thick, scented with damp grass and cooling asphalt. Through the thin fence mesh came familiar voices — laughter, casual chatter, small words that somehow burned.

Jaeyi was walking faster than usual.
Her chest tight. She couldn’t explain why, but her whole body felt coiled, like something raw was pushing her forward.

And then she saw them.

Seulgi was standing by the gate. Her shoulders were a little tense, arms by her sides, eyes drifting around. She was clearly waiting. She wasn’t smiling. She was just... waiting.

The boy — that boy — was next to her. Too close.

He leaned in, said something in a low voice, tone sticky-sweet like it got stuck in the back of Jaeyi's throat.

His face moved toward Seulgi’s cheek, like he was about to—

“Hey!” Jaeyi shot the word like a bullet.

She was moving before she knew it. Walked straight up to Seulgi, grabbed her wrist — not hard, but firm.

“We’re leaving.”

“Huh? Jaeyi?” Seulgi blinked at her in surprise but didn’t pull away.

The boy straightened up.

“Hey, wait, I was just—”

“I said let go,” she snapped, not even glancing at him.

He raised his hands, awkward smile stretched across his face. He backed off.

Jaeyi led Seulgi around the corner of the school building, where it was quiet. Just the wind rustling dry leaves underfoot.

Seulgi was still breathing a little fast, confused. She hadn’t done anything — she was just waiting. Waiting for her.

“Why did you…” she began, voice smaller than usual.

Jaeyi stopped. Turned to face her. Stared — too intently.

“Because I couldn’t watch it,” she breathed. “Because when I saw him… when I saw you, next to him, and the way you looked away, and everything in me just—”

She broke off. Then stepped closer.

“Can I?” she asked quietly. Voice trembling. “I… I just want to hold you.”

Seulgi blinked. Her cheeks turned a soft pink. Her shoulders lifted on an inhale. She looked shaken, like the world had shifted sideways — but she didn’t back away. She nodded. Quietly. Barely. But it meant everything.

Jaeyi stepped in.

Her arms wrapped around Seulgi carefully, like she was afraid to break something delicate. She pulled her in — at first, just a light touch to her back, feeling her breath, her heartbeat.

And when Seulgi wrapped her arms around her too — a little unsure, a little shaky — Jaeyi held her tighter. As if letting go would mean losing her to that other world. The one where strangers could touch her.

Seulgi rested her cheek on Jaeyi’s shoulder. Warm. Trembling. Quiet.

They stood like that — in silence, thick and warm. Seulgi’s hands still on Jaeyi’s back, hesitant to let go. And Jaeyi held her tighter, closer. She felt every breath, every tremble — like she was absorbing her. To remember. To hold onto.

And when they finally began to let go, it was reluctant. Slow. Their fingers didn’t want to part. Like letting go meant losing something.

Seulgi stepped back half a pace, lifted her gaze — then frowned.

There, just above Jaeyi’s collarbone, along the curve of her jaw, something dark bruised the pale skin — like a smudge, like fingers. Or… claws.

“You have…” Seulgi stepped in closer, brow furrowed. “What is that?”

Jaeyi flinched. Her hand flew up to her collar, quickly tugging it up to hide the mark. She stepped back — like the air turned cold.

“It’s nothing.” Her voice broke. Too fast. Too soft.

“But that’s…” Seulgi moved another step, concern creeping in. “Did someone do that? Does it hurt?”

Jaeyi looked away. Her face had gone pale.
She pressed her fingers to the spot — not covering it, but almost… trying to erase it.
Erase Seulgi’s eyes. Erase the memory.

“Please…” she whispered. Her voice shook. “Don’t.”

Seulgi froze. All her words caught in her throat. Her heart pounded — loud and strange. Fear?

She nodded. Slowly. Uncertain.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I won’t.”

A silence fell between them — not cold, but fragile, like a crack in glass.

Seulgi wanted to step closer, to touch her again, to pull her in — But Jaeyi had already stepped back. Head down. Shoulders taut, like she was holding something back.

And in that moment, Seulgi understood:

Whatever it was — Jaeyi wasn’t ready to speak.

But something was happening.
And it hurt more than it showed.

They walked in silence. Jaeyi didn’t say she was leaving—she just turned and headed toward the main exit. And Seulgi, as if by inertia, stepped after her. No questions, no words. Only the wind tugging at her sleeve and the silence between them—resonant and strangely fragile.

*She left. Just left. No explanations. No words. As if everything was fine. As if those…*

Bruises. Marks. Fingerprints? Claws?

*Maybe she really just fell? Yeah, sure. Fell. On her neck. Because usually when people fall—they get hit right there, on the side of the jaw. Right under the ear. Very convenient, huh?*

Seulgi clenched her jaw. Her hands in her pockets balled into fists.

*If someone touched her… even with a finger… I. Will. Tear. Them. Apart.*

“Hey!” Yeri’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts, and Seulgi flinched. “There you are! We thought you ran off to your romantic spin-off.”

They stood by the school gates—Yeri, as usual, half-turned, smiling, holding her phone in front of her; Kyeong beside her with a soda bottle and a lazy smirk.

“How are you?” Yeri asked, glancing at Jaeyi’s face. She barely nodded.

“Fine,” Jaeyi said. “Everything’s okay.”

As if nothing had happened. As if there weren’t clenched lips, darkened eyes, and marks on her neck. She even fixed her hair, as if hiding uncertainty, and gave a small chuckle as if to say, *I’m fine, don’t worry about it.*

Seulgi kept watching. Listening. Boiling inside.

“I have a proposal,” Yeri continued. “Tomorrow’s a day off, right? Let’s all go to the amusement park together. I’ve got coupons for tickets. Food, screams, dizziness—in short, the perfect way to die from fun. What do you say?”

“I’m in,” Kyeong nodded immediately. “I can bring the camera. Film you screaming on the Ferris wheel.”

“I’m not screaming, I’m appreciating the aesthetics,” Yeri snorted. “What about you, Seulgi?”

Seulgi nodded absentmindedly.

“Of course. Tomorrow morning?”

“At ten.” Yeri pointed in the air. “By the entrance. Whoever’s late buys snacks for everyone.”

Seulgi smirked, but her gaze was still searching for Jaeyi.

Jaeyi stood a little apart, silent. Her face calm—too calm. No marks on her neck. She’d deliberately pulled her hood up, leaving it halfway down to cover that very spot. When Yeri asked:

“And you, Jaeyi? Coming with us?”

She turned slightly, smiled lightly, superficially:

“We’ll see. Maybe.”

*We’ll see.* As if she didn’t know. As if it didn’t matter.

*We’ll see? What does that mean? If she doesn’t come, I…* Seulgi caught herself thinking this and exhaled sharply. *Calm down. Don’t show it. Not now.*

“Earth calling Seulgi,” Kyeong said, tilting her head. “You’re spaced out. You with us?”

Everyone looked at her. Seulgi blinked, realizing she’d just been staring into space, missing half the conversation. Her cheeks flushed.

“I… yeah. Sorry. Just thinking about what to wear.” She forced a smile. “Gotta look stunning if I’m gonna die on the roller coaster.”

“Now that’s the spirit!” Yeri cheered. “If we die, we’ll do it in style!”

They talked a bit more, joked—about Yeri and her cotton candy obsession, about Kyeong’s fear of swings, and about bringing warm clothes. Everything—as usual. Almost.

But Seulgi still couldn’t take her eyes off Jaeyi.

When they said goodbye—Yeri and Kyeong headed one way, waving and chatting—Seulgi didn’t hesitate.

She just turned in the direction Jaeyi was going.

No words. No questions.

And followed her.

As if it was the only right path.

Even though her chest burned with anxiety.

---

They walked side by side down a street bathed in soft evening light. The asphalt still gleamed in spots after the rain, and the air smelled of wet leaves and something spicy from a nearby bakery. Cars passed slowly, and the background sounds of the city created a quiet harmony.

Seulgi caught her reflection in the pharmacy window—her hair tousled, eyebrows slightly furrowed, lips pressed together.

*No. Not like this. Not now.*

She took a deep breath, shook her shoulders lightly, and lifted her chin just a bit.

*It’s all right. I’m okay. Calm. Positive. That’s who I am. That’s what she needs right now. No interrogation, no panic. Calm. Confidence. A smile.*

She looked at Jaeyi—walking just a little ahead, hands in her pockets, face hidden under the hood of a jacket Seulgi hadn’t even noticed her put on. In her posture, in the way she didn’t turn her head, there was restraint—a fragile defense Seulgi didn’t want to break with a careless word.

*I have to be a light for her. Like she once was for me. Even if I want to scream. Even if it feels like I’m suffocating.*

Seulgi deliberately said aloud, with a slight smile:

“You know, if Yeri really decided to feed everyone tomorrow, we’d definitely go on a hunger strike for a month.”

Jaeyi chuckled—a small, lively sound.

“And no chance of fleeing the scene of the crime,” Seulgi added, winking. “Her hands are like magnets; everything sticks to them.”

“Yeah, and if you get too close, you might turn into a sugar-starved zombie,” Jaeyi replied with a smile.

“Exactly!” Seulgi smiled. “We’re all slaves to her sweet tooth!”

“Therapy with slides and yelling in the park is the best antidote,” Jaeyi said.

“I agree. Though I think we’ll end up laughing more than screaming.”

Jaey smiled faintly.

“Let’s see who gets scared first.”

Seulgi laughed quietly—a light, genuine laugh that seemed to lift a little weight from inside her.

“Okay, that’s basically a confession of love, right?”

“In a way,” Jaeyi answered without looking away.

A silence fell between them—not awkward, but filled with unspoken understanding.

---

“…and then he goes, ‘You can’t just—’ and I’m like, ‘I just did!’ And that’s it! Can you believe it? He didn’t even have time to—”
Seulgi was walking a few steps ahead, waving her hands excitedly as she talked—something about a history teacher or her insane deskmate.

Jaeyi was only half-listening. Or pretending to. She wasn’t looking at her—gaze drifting to the side—but still walking right beside her. As always.

And then — a sharp, hollow thud.

Seulgi gasped, stumbled back, and clutched her forehead.

“Ow! Damn—pole!”

“…Did you just walk into a pole?”

“No,” Seulgi groaned, rubbing her forehead. “It walked into my story! It ambushed me! I swear it wasn’t there a second ago—”

Jaeyi stopped. Looked at her in silence.

Seulgi’s forehead really was turning red. Her hair was slightly mussed. Her lips trembled—caught somewhere between laughter and the edge of humiliation. And her eyes—still fixed on Jaeyi. Like she was waiting for… something.

“…You,” Jaeyi started—and then, suddenly, smiled. Barely. Just a flicker. “You’re a walking disaster.”

Seulgi froze. Then flushed. “Well, at least I’m not an emotional iceberg like you.”

“Not sure which of us is more dangerous,” Jaeyi replied, and this time the smile wasn’t accidental. It was real. Just enough to shift the corners of her lips, and bring light to her usually guarded eyes.

“I’m dangerous?” Seulgi scoffed. “I’m the one who can make you laugh. That’s a rare skill. I should be in a museum.”

“I *will* put you in one. Behind glass. With a sign that says: ‘Hazardous to infrastructure. Especially poles.’”

Seulgi snorted—but still held her forehead.

Then—completely unexpectedly—Jaeyi stepped closer. Silently. Without warning.

Her hand—cool and slender—reached out gently, brushing a damp strand of dark hair from Seulgi’s temple, like it was something delicate. Something that mattered. As if she was afraid to hurt her.

Seulgi froze. She felt it in her chest—something blooming, like a petal of warmth opening right beneath Jaeyi’s cool fingers. Her hand was cold. And so soft, it made Seulgi want to stay completely still.

She blushed. Not just her cheeks—her whole self. Neck to ears. Even her fingertips were warm.

“Does it hurt?” Jaeyi asked softly, barely a whisper, but far too close.

*Does it hurt?*

*It hurts when you look at me like that.*

*It hurts when you touch me like you actually care.*

*It hurts that I want this to last longer.*

*It hurts when you go silent—especially when you’re hurting.*

But Seulgi only swallowed, then smirked faintly.

“Not enough to make you stop doing that face.”

“What face?”

“That one. The almost-smile. It’s rare. I collect them.”

Jaeyi’s fingers were still so close. She pulled her hand back—almost abruptly, but gently. And for a moment, she lingered. Just a second too long. Like… she didn’t want to let go.

And Seulgi saw it—just the faintest blush on Jaeyi’s normally pale, unreadable cheeks.

Then it happened again. That rare, warm, nearly invisible smile. Seulgi forgot how to breathe.

“You’re impossible,” Jaeyi muttered.

Seulgi tried to joke, voice slightly shaking:
“But you still come with me. I’m scared to think what’ll happen if I ever walk into a tree. You might kiss me out of pity.”

A pause. The kind you could fall into. Or kiss through.

Silence wrapped around them.

Far away, streetlights flickered on. A distant airplane hummed through the sky.

Seulgi stood still, eyes locked on Jaeyi.
And Jaeyi—cheeks still tinged with red—was staring past her, like she didn’t know what to do with those words.

But there was no kiss.

Only footsteps. Slow, uneven. They walked on. Sometimes quiet. Sometimes laughing. Sometimes just… together.

And that felt right. Safe. Like being with someone who understands you—even in silence.

Maybe someday, someone would dare to want more.

But for now—just steps.
And two hearts, pulsing louder with every drop of the rain that had "just" passed.

Seulgi sighed again and said more quietly:

— I just want you to know — I’m here. By your side. Even if I don’t say it with words.

Jaeyi slowed down a little and looked at her.

— Thank you, — she whispered.

The wind played with their hair, a phone rang somewhere in the distance. But at that moment, there was only them, the evening, and the chance to just walk together, unhurried.

Sometimes — to help, it’s enough just to be there.

***

The silence in the room was thick.
Not ringing—settling. Like a blanket.

Jaeyi sat at her desk, half-turned toward the window. Outside, a streetlamp blurred in leftover rain. It had stopped, but left behind a hush, a shimmer, the ache of something unfinished.

On the nightstand— The same teddy bear. Still undelivered.

She ran her fingers across her temple, like she had hit the pole instead. Then slowly down—toward her neck.

The marks.

She touched one—gently, like it might burn, though the pain was long gone. Only memory remained. Thin, blue, like a string someone had pulled too tight.

*I hid it badly… I knew it. She looked there right away.*

Seulgi hadn’t said anything. Didn’t ask.

But that *look*—Jaeyi remembered it in perfect detail.

No judgment.

No fear.

Just something that felt like being punched in the lungs.

Like the air had left Seulgi’s body—but she still didn’t ask.

*She saw. And still… she didn’t ask.*

Jaeyi gripped the edge of the table.

*She just walked beside me. Even when I said, “Don’t. Please.” She didn’t leave. Just… walked.*

That was scarier than if Seulgi had yelled, demanded answers, pushed.

Because silence—real silence—knows how to wait. And it sees everything.

*I didn’t want her to know.*
*Not because she wouldn’t understand. But because she would. Too well.*

Jaeyi’s fingers traced her neck again. Then she tugged the collar of her sweater up.
Pointless—the marks still showed.
But the gesture gave her a sliver of control.

*I don’t want her to know.*
*Not because she’ll run. But because she’ll stay.*

---

**From Jaeyi’s POV**

I don’t know what this is.

What happens when she laughs.
When she says my name like it’s… soft.
When she walks me home—even when I tell her not to.

She still walks beside me.

I don’t know what this is.
It’s not a crush—I’d recognize that.
It’s not just friendship—too sharp.
Not just attachment—too alive.

It’s… something else.

Like my whole day aligns if I know I’ll see her. Like when she’s close, my body relaxes—even when I don’t give it permission.
Like someone inside me is opening all the windows I’ve kept shut for years.

I don’t want this.
I really don’t.

But I can’t *not* want it, either.

Sometimes I feel like if I say anything out loud—if I admit even a little—it’ll all fall apart. Or worse—become too real.

And I’m not ready for real.
I’m still… learning how to breathe.

---

I picked up my phone.
Stared at the screen.

Contact: **Seulgi**.
No emoji. No hearts. Just her name.

Opened the chat.
The message box stared back.

Typed:
*"Stop walking into poles. I only have so many heartbeats per day."*
Deleted it.

Breathed in. Typed:
*"Be careful. You’re already too—"*
Deleted again.

Bit my lip.
Leaned back into the pillow.
The screen dimmed, reflecting my face.

Finally, I typed:
*"Just… be okay."*

Stared at it. For a long time.
My finger hovered over “Send.”

Then slowly, almost regretfully—
Pressed back.

The screen went blank.

But for the first time in a while—
*I* didn’t feel blank.

---

The screen lit up.

I flinched.

It was her.

**Seulgi \[11:17 PM]:**
'forehead barely hurts anymore
thinking maybe your hand has healing powers
if you'd kissed it too — might’ve forgotten i hit the pole at all'

I froze.

Like someone cracked a window in a room that had been sealed shut.
No wind rushed in.
But everything changed.

Her.

Always with that ridiculous, sincere, disarming ease. With a joke that anyone could say— But only she could make sound like that. Not just funny. A challenge.

I felt my cheeks flare up.

Exhaled—almost annoyed—and fell back into the pillow, eyes fixed on the screen.

What does that even mean?
Why do I…
Why do I *feel* anything?

This is stupid.
I’m not— This isn’t me.

And yet.

My fingers moved on their own.
Carefully. Almost like they knew something I wouldn’t let myself admit.

**Jaeyi \[11:20 PM]:**
'correction: my hand only has scientifically-proven healing when used in strictly clinical contact
kisses not included in my service package
(especially for feelings i obviously don’t have)'

I paused. Reread the message. Over and over.

Then added:
'if you keep running into poles, i’ll have to start holding your hand as a preventative measure.'

I exhaled. Hard. Shoved the phone aside. Ears burning.

Not from shame — from how terrifyingly easy it was to let these words slip.
These… softnesses.

---

Somewhere on the other side of the city, Seulgi sat cross-legged on her bed, phone in hand.

She was reading. Slowly. Once. Then again.

And suddenly—she buried her face in the pillow.

“Oh my god,” she groaned. “What was that…”

Her cheeks were burning. So were her ears. Her eyes sparkled like she'd just won some secret prize from the universe.

*No feelings*, huh?

Seulgi smiled. And whispered under her breath:

“You’re lying, Jaeyi. But even your lies are beautiful.”

She clutched the phone to her chest.

“Dragging me by the hand, huh?” she murmured, nearly squealing back into the pillow.

Then she typed:

**Seulgi \[23:22]:**
ooo the president is cracking jokes, end of the world must be near 👀

A pause. The reply came almost instantly.

**My favorite president ♥️ \[23:22]:**
just don’t get used to it

**Seulgi \[23:23]:**
what if I already have?..

Silence. But the good kind.

The kind of silence where you can hear something soft and cautious shifting in your heart. Moving forward.

The screen lit up again.

A few minutes later, I typed:

**Seulgi \[21:14]:**
hey, are you coming to the amusement park?

Pause. Then finally:

**My favorite president ♥️ \[21:16]:**
no, I’ve got stuff to do

It felt intentional. I could tell.

I smirked and wrote:

**Seulgi \[21:17]:**
come on, Jaeyi, don’t pretend to be an adult! Everyone’s going!

A few seconds of silence, then:

**My favorite president ♥️ \[21:19]:**
I’ll think about it...

And that was it. No yes, no no. A mystery, as always.

Seulgi smiled, put down her phone, and thought: *Well, I’ll wait. Maybe she’s not totally against the idea.*

---

The amusement park breathed with lights, smells, and sound, like it was alive. Somewhere in the distance, metal rides clanged, children laughed, flashes blinked, and colored bulbs shimmered. It all felt surreal—like a movie set, or a dream. But Seulgi stood on solid pavement, and everything was very real.

She stood a little apart from Yeri and Kyeong, watching the road. The streetlamp light glinted softly in her eyes.

“Jaeyi’s late again,” Yeri drawled, stretching. “Think she’ll show up at all?”

“She’ll come,” Seulgi said simply.

“How do you know?” Kyeong smirked.

“I just do.”

Yeri snorted and turned to Kyeong:

“Well, Detective Seulgi is on the case. Sixth sense. Or maybe a Jaeyi-radar.”

Seulgi didn’t reply, just gave a small shake of the head and a slight smile, like she was agreeing inwardly.

“Maybe we should head in? The line’s still short—we could make it onto the ‘Wild Wheel,’” Kyeong suggested.

Seulgi shook her head.

“I’ll wait here. I want to… you know. Be here when she comes.”

Yeri gave a theatrical sigh.

“So you’d rather stand around with those sad kitten eyes than come have fun?”

Seulgi shrugged, eyes scanning the crowd:

“I just… want her to see I’m here when she arrives.”

Yeri tilted her head with a sly half-smile.

“Okay-ay… we’ll leave you to your romantic moment at the gates.”

Seulgi gave her a sideways look.

“I’m just being generous. Giving you and Kyeong some personal space. Go scream in each other’s ears on the rides. What’s the game plan?”

Kyeong answered instantly, voice lit up:

“First, the carousels. Then cotton candy. Then every terrifying ride—especially the ones Yeri hates.”

“Hey!” Yeri protested. “I’m not scared, I just don’t like being upside down. That’s not fear, that’s biology!”

Seulgi finally laughed—raw and real, a little raspy. But her eyes were already drifting back toward the road.

Yeri looked at her for a long second, then nudged Kyeong.

“Let’s go. Leave our waiting princess to her fate.”

“Thanks for the title,” Seulgi smirked.

“We’ll be inside.”

They disappeared into the noise and light, leaving Seulgi behind. Her heart was beating a little faster. The breeze carried popcorn and coffee through the air. Ahead—an entire day of parks, rides, her first time. But for now—just the waiting.

And that mattered just as much as everything else.

---

In front of the park stood only Seulgi—with a smile warm enough to brighten even the gloomiest evening. She glanced at the figure walking toward her—it was Jaeyi.

“You’re alone?” Jaeyi asked, slowing slightly in surprise.

Seulgi laughed, tilting her head, her eyes glowing with quiet warmth.

“Yeri and Kyeong are already inside, lost somewhere on the carousels. And me? I stayed to wait for you. Didn’t want you thinking I ditch everyone for this—only for you,” she said, teasing lightly.

“So you showed up after all,” Seulgi said again, voice trembling just a little with emotion. “Honestly, I thought I’d be standing here all night, with these lights and screams, waiting for you to finally show up.”

Jaeyi smirked slightly.

“Don’t make it sound like I’ve got a fan club dying to hang out without me.”

Seulgi froze for a moment, eyes locking with hers—and there was so much honesty in them, she could feel her heart skip.

“I’m really glad you came,” Seulgi said softly. “Even if you made me wait.”

And Jaeyi, almost surprising herself, replied just as quietly:

“Me too.”

A silence fell between them—warm, soft, like the world had kindly given them one minute of peace before the chaos of laughter and rollercoasters.

---

The scent of cotton candy was cloying and sweet, like a compliment trying too hard. It clung to the air, to fingers, to hair—and Yeri felt like every note of this carnival hid some silly kind of magic. She was slowly dissolving in it too, standing with Kyeong near a booth where a tired guy spun pink clouds of sugar like he’d been doing it for the past hundred years.

“I swear,” Yeri said, handing over some bills and nodding at the candy, “if you eat this stuff too often, you start dreaming in animation.”

Kyeong crossed her arms, eyeing the spinning machine skeptically.

“Or lose all your taste buds. And touch with reality.”

Yeri giggled, took a bite, and held out a fluffy piece toward Kyeong’s lips.

“Come on. Let your guard down. Sugar is a form of enlightenment too.”

Kyeong recoiled for a second, but then slowly leaned in and took the candy right from Yeri’s fingers. Her cheeks instantly turned red.

“I could’ve taken it myself…”

“Of course you could’ve,” Yeri said, still smiling. “But it wouldn’t have been as… cinematic.”

“You turn food into flirting. It’s impressive. And terrifying.”

Yeri shrugged.

“Everything’s flirting, if you’re bold enough. Or dumb.”

“Or if you’re Yeri,” Kyeong muttered—and maybe smiled a little.

They passed a kiddie ride—bright cabins shaped like planes, teacups, elephants. Yeri pointed at a particularly bright helicopter.

“There you go, Kyeong. Might suit your sarcastic vibe perfectly.”

“Not sure it can handle my intellect.”

“Then it’ll definitely break. Question is, from the pressure or the boredom?”

Kyeong snorted and shook her head, but something in her gaze softened. Like Yeri’s words—just a little—had gotten under her skin.

Then they saw Seulgi and Jaeyi. Walking slowly, side by side, not touching—but close. As if the weight of the day itself was pulling them together.

Yeri immediately dashed over:

“President!” she shouted, arms wide. “Can’t believe it! You came to witness the glory of humanity!”

Jaeyi didn’t even have time to dodge. Yeri hugged her so hard she nearly lost her balance.

“I just…” Jaeyi started, but Yeri had already pulled back, eyeing her carefully.

“You look like a cold-blooded warrior on vacation. I love it.”

Seulgi and Kyeong laughed. Jaeyi rolled her eyes—but the corners of her mouth twitched.

“Alright,” Yeri said, stepping back. “Since it’s your first time here—Seulgi, you pick. Let’s start easy. What do you say?”

Seulgi looked around, breathed in the candy-sweet air full of music and yelling, then pointed:

“That one!” she said, at a harmless-looking rollercoaster. “Doesn’t look too scary.”

She was wrong.

Yeri clapped her hands gleefully:

“Yes! I love these! I went to Disneyland once… I was seven. But the memories are vivid!”

Kyeong pressed her lips together like she was bracing for a survival test.

And Jaeyi… just sat in the ride car, gripping the safety bar like it might fly away.

Seulgi sat next to her and leaned in:

“Hey… don’t be scared. I’m right here.”

Pause. She meant to say more—maybe “if we don’t fall out,” maybe “if this thing is even safe,” but the car lurched forward and shot up the track, giving her no chance.

The world turned into wind and screams. Into steel. Hair whipped like crazy flags. The ride flung them into the sky and then dropped them down past the bottom of their lungs. Shouts turned to chaos, delight, terror, adrenaline.

Then—silence. They were back on the platform, crawling out of the ride like wrung-out towels.

Yeri was glowing:

“Again! Please!”

Kyeong stood frozen.

“That… violated several laws of physics.”

Seulgi couldn’t decide if she wanted to throw up or go again. But she was laughing.

And Jaeyi was still clutching the bar like she wasn’t totally convinced the ride had ended.

“Well,” Seulgi said, watching her, “now you definitely know I’m here.”

And Jaeyi… gave a tiny nod.

This time—without words.

Chapter Text

"Alright... your turn now," Yeri said, wiping her face after the wild rollercoaster ride. Her cheeks were flushed, hair tousled, but her smile still lit up her whole face. "Jaeyi, come on, pick something."

Jaeyi looked up at the massive park map like she was searching for some philosophical truth between all the screaming signs.

"Hmm…" she murmured thoughtfully. "That one… 'Galaxy Vortex'. Sounds... scientific."

Seulgi squinted.

"Are you sure? Even the name sounds like a dying astronaut’s last breath."

"Did I say I knew what it was?" Jaeyi replied calmly, shrugging. "The name just draws you in. It’s all about the experience."

"You mean it’s all about death," Kyeong muttered, already feeling her stomach twist in warning.

Yeri clapped her hands.
"Let’s go! Before you change your mind and pick something like ‘Lost Spine’ or ‘Memories of Gravity’."

They walked toward the massive metal monster. If it was a carousel, it looked more like a web of steel arms, each ending in open-air seats. The whole structure spun around a central axis, but each seat also rotated on its own mini, chaotic orbit.

"Well..." Seulgi said slowly, "this looks like hell."

"No," Kyeong replied, staring at the sky. "It’s a scientific illustration of entropy in dynamic space."

"So basically, death," Yeri confirmed while fastening her seatbelt.

A minute later.

*Roaring. Screaming. Screeching air. Someone was praying, someone was laughing, someone might have lost their soul on the third spin.*

When the seats finally slowed down and the metal arms released their prisoners, Yeri was the first to crawl out of the pod.

"Who—" she croaked, clinging to the railing, "who gave you the right to choose?"

"Um… you did," Kyeong reminded her, helping her stay upright. "You literally said, ‘Your turn, Jaeyi, pick something.’"

"I meant it in a friendly way!" Yeri looked at them the way a K-drama heroine would look at the villain who turned out to be her long-lost brother.

Seulgi staggered toward the bench.
"I saw… my life. Then someone else’s. Then I think… a chicken. Roasted."

Kyeong said nothing. She never complained. But her face was pale, and her hands clutched her backpack strap like it could stop the Earth from spinning.

And yet Jaeyi, strangely enough, looked almost normal. Her hair was wild, her fingers still slightly frozen in the shape of holding onto the safety bar, but her eyes were bright, alive — like she had finally… woken up.

Seulgi looked at her.

"Did you… like it?"

Jaeyi turned to her slowly, something sparking in her gaze — maybe adrenaline, maybe something deeper.

"It was awful. But…" she paused, then added softly, "sometimes 'awful' is the only way to feel truly alive."

Yeri dropped onto the bench beside them and rolled her eyes.
"Here we go with the philosophy. Next thing you know, she’ll pick a ride called 'The Meaning of Life'."

"I think it’s here," Kyeong said seriously. "But it’s been under maintenance since the '90s."

They all laughed.

The laughter pulled them back down to Earth, grounded them. Even Seulgi — still breathless, legs trembling — felt a weight lift.

"Alright," Yeri said, standing up. "I vote for something on solid ground. Or ice cream. Or ice cream on solid ground — I’m not picky."

"Same," Seulgi agreed. "As long as it’s not trying to kill me."

"You haven’t tried 'Space Pizza' yet," Kyeong muttered.

Their footsteps slowly disappeared into the background hum of the park. Children laughed nearby, a train howled in the distance — but between the four of them, there was only now.

---

"We have to do one more," Yeri declared, stretching her arms with a crack. "Or three. It’s the weekend. I’m a free woman. I’ve earned my scream."

"You were literally screaming the whole last ride," Kyeong said flatly, sipping her soda. "Pretty sure your vocal cords now sound like a metal band frontman."

"It’s called expression," Yeri sniffed, mock offended. "Not all of us can be cold, sphinx-like beauties like you."

"Hey, I’ve got emotions. They’re just inside. Where no one can see them," Kyeong smirked. "Like good ice cream — cold on the outside, surprise in the center."

"So you’re the kind with a waffle cone?" Seulgi teased, eyes narrowing.

"Of course. Extra crunch."

"Stop, I’m starving," Yeri groaned. "Let’s do the swinging boat. Or that blender-thingy. It shakes sadness out of your organs. I’ve emotionally recovered from 'Galaxy Vortex'."

They went on three more rides — one loud, one way too fast, and one where Kyeong sat with a deadpan expression while Yeri clung to her like a screaming koala. They all laughed. Wind tangled their hair and left behind a strange feeling: *we are alive. we are together. we are whole.*

---

Yeri somehow became the food tour guide and chief appetite awakener.

"Guys! Stop floating around like sad ghosts!" she shouted, pulling them toward a row of noisy, colorful food stalls. "I’m about to open the gates to heaven — via your stomachs."

"Gastronomic heaven, maybe," Kyeong muttered but followed her anyway, tugging her by the backpack like a leash.

Seulgi turned to Jaeyi, faking suspicion.
"Hey, have you ever eaten *this*?" she asked, pointing at grilled meat dripping with sauce, steam curling around it.

"No," Jaeyi said plainly.

"How about this?" Seulgi nodded to syrupy sweet balls. "Or this?" — gesturing toward fries buried in spices.

Jaeyi shook her head, a little sheepishly, but made no effort to hide it.

"None of it. Ever."

Seulgi let out a dramatic gasp.

"What, were you raised in a lab? Behind glass? Living on air and discipline?"

"Something like that," Jaeyi said with a crooked smile.

Without a word, Seulgi picked up a meat skewer, took a bite, and closed her eyes in bliss.

"So good," she murmured, then handed it to Jaeyi.

Jaeyi took it carefully, like it might vanish. She bit gently. And then froze.

*It was warm, juicy, spicy. Strange and perfect. Nothing had ever felt so real.*

"This is... a first," she whispered, but firmly. "First time eating something like this. Street food. Real food."

Seulgi looked at her and smiled — soft and wide.
"Welcome to the land of the living."

"Do you always rescue people from bland diets?" Jaeyi asked, holding the skewer like it might fall apart if she let go.

"Only the ones I like," Seulgi smirked.

Jaeyi instantly dropped her gaze. Her cheeks flared. She tried to hide it under her usual calmness, but her voice trembled just slightly.

"Then I guess I’m lucky. Or... maybe you just pity the ignorant."

"I’m kind, but selective," Seulgi replied, locking eyes with her.

Jaeyi turned away, biting the skewer again to distract herself — from the way her lips curled involuntarily. Not from laughter. From something deeper.

*“Like”*? What did she mean? Just friendship? Just kindness? Or…

She took another bite, not because she was hungry, but because that flavor was now imprinted in her memory — along with Seulgi’s voice.

And Seulgi watched her just a little longer than necessary.

As if waiting for Jaeyi to realize — that it wasn’t just a line.

---

They sat down on a bench next to the food stall, sharing the last bits of meat and some crispy rice cakes, laughing when Yeri nearly choked on her own overambitious taste buds.

“I swear, that sauce was trying to kill me!”

“That was ketchup,” Kyeong said calmly. “You just can’t handle spicy.”

“I’m ready for everything—except that ketchup.”

“Too red for you?” Seulgi smirked.

Laughter erupted again.

Then Yeri suddenly jumped up:

“Oh! Look! Keychains!”

She dashed to the booth filled with trinkets—charms, plush toys, and weird little figurines sparkling under the lights. Seulgi followed slowly, looking at them with a hint of nostalgia.

“I once lost my teddy bear,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “He was… special.”

She accidentally caught Jaeyi’s eyes and raised an eyebrow.

*Jaeyi froze for a split second. Does she know? Know that I still have it? Or is it just intuition?*

Yeri didn’t notice the pause and was already chirping:

“If I find one like that, I’ll give it to you. Or to you, Kyeong. Or maybe to myself. Probably myself.”

“Magic of ownership,” Kyeong noted. “Finds it — claims it.”

“What about sharing?” Seulgi winked.

“I’ll share a photo,” Yeri replied, winking back.

Jaeyi kept looking at Seulgi.

*She didn’t say anything… but it’s like she knows. And yet—she’s smiling.*

----

The photo booth stood at the edge of the alley—slightly worn, with a blinking sign: “Smile here!”—which somehow made it feel even cozier. Yeri grabbed Seulgi’s sleeve and practically bounced on the spot.

“We have to! It’s tradition! A photo booth is a must on any decent outing!”

“You sure you’re not six years old?” Kyeong scoffed but obediently stepped inside, pulling the others after her.

Inside was cramped and smelled of plastic. The seat barely held all four of them. Yeri climbed in first, perching on Seulgi’s lap. Kyeong sat beside them, nudging Jaeyi’s leg, who looked as if she’d accidentally ended up there and wasn’t sure she even wanted to be.

“Okay,” Yeri announced, pressing the button. “On three, serious faces. Like we’re board members of some big corporation.”

“Alright, President Yeri,” Seulgi muttered, fixing her hood with a deadpan expression, as if wearing a business suit.

“One, two, three!”

*Click.*

In the photo, they looked like the weirdest bureaucrats ever. Yeri with a furrowed brow, Seulgi squinting as if judging stocks, Kyeong rolling her eyes… and Jaeyi just sitting with a neutral face, but the corner of her mouth betrayed a smile.

“Now—goofy faces!” Yeri ordered. “Let’s go!”

Seulgi stuck out her tongue, crossed her eyes, and raised her hands like a zombie. Kyeong twisted her lips and pinched her nose. Yeri puffed her cheeks like a squirrel with nuts.

And then Jaeyi… suddenly made a sharp, unexpected face—rolling her eyes and opening her mouth like she was about to sneeze or read someone’s bank statement aloud.

*Click.*

“What was that?!” Yeri blinked, staring at the screen.

“You… you did that?!” Seulgi turned to Jaeyi, stunned, mouth slightly open.

Jaeyi shrugged calmly, but faint traces of laughter rose on her cheeks.

“Felt like breaking the rules.”

“We’re hanging this by the door now!” Yeri declared. “A photo of three normal people staring at you in shock like you’re a ghost.”

“I’m saving that,” Kyeong promised. “Better than any arthouse film.”

They took a few more pictures—making silly faces, putting “crowns” of fingers on each other’s heads, sharing an “unexpected” kiss on the cheek from Yeri to Kyeong, making both blush—and finally, at Yeri’s insistence:

“Group hug. Everyone! No excuses!”

They squeezed together, hugging as best they could. Someone’s hair got caught in a mouth, someone’s hand landed on a stranger’s shoulder, Seulgi laughed while trying to hold both Jaeyi and Yeri at once, and Kyeong kept her balance, hooking a foot on the booth’s edge.

“On three! Say ‘hooray!’” Yeri shouted.

“Why not ‘tofu’?” Jaeyi muttered.

“Because ‘hooray’ is louder! One, two, three!”

“HOOOORAAAY!”

*Click.*

In the last frame, they were all laughing genuinely. Real laughter. No filters. No masks. Faces glowing with happiness. Alive.

When they stepped outside, dusk had fallen. Yeri shook the strip of photos in her hands, everyone peeking over her shoulder. The photo with Jaeyi’s “face” was kept like a treasure—too funny, too real.

Seulgi glanced sideways at Jaeyi.

She held back a smile as she looked at the photo of their group hug.

And for a second, she seemed almost vulnerable.

Warm.

Almost one of them.

---

“What next?” Seulgi squinted at the park map.

“I don’t know,” Jaeyi shrugged. “Maybe the haunted house?”

“No way,” Yeri immediately stepped back. “No thanks. I like my life. I don’t want to be carried out in pieces afterward.”

“Seriously?” Kyeong raised an eyebrow. “Yeri, you scream louder on kids’ rides than they even move.”

“Because I’m honest!” Yeri exclaimed dramatically. “I admit my fear! I’m emotionally healthy! I…”

Before Yeri could finish, Kyeong reached out gently and said:

“I’ll hold you. The whole time. I promise. Even if you get scared—I’ll be right here. Won’t let go.”

Yeri bit her lip. Then flushed a little. For real, softly. She looked away.

“You just want a reason to hold my hand,” she murmured.

“And you—against it?” Kyeong said without a smile, but with a soft fire in her eyes.

Seulgi and Jaeyi exchanged looks. Silently. Smirked. Yeah, sure.

Seulgi leaned a little closer to Jaeyi as if whispering, but loud enough:

“Don’t you want to hold me, Madam President? Just in case I need carrying out.”

“Not a chance,” Jaeyi muttered without looking, but the corner of her mouth twitched.

And that was enough. Seulgi felt her ears warm.

---

Inside the haunted room, the air smelled of dust, rubber, and cheap plywood. Behind the curtain, darkness thickened like a heavy stew — dense, echoing. A mechanism clicked somewhere, music hummed. Yeri immediately grabbed onto Kyeong. Jaeyi followed — calm, confident. Seulgi was last.

“Why do mannequins always have such long arms?” Yeri whispered.

“Because they reach out for you when you leave them without a kiss,” Kyeong said grimly.

“I HATE IT WHEN YOU TALK LIKE THAT,” Yeri squealed.

Laughter. Giggles. Someone nudged someone’s back. The walls were uneven. A red light flickered somewhere…

“I swear, if another mannequin in a robe jumps out now, I’ll scream so loud its ears will fall off,” Yeri declared, hiding behind Kyeong.

“Do mannequins even have ears?” Kyeong asked lazily, not letting go of her hand.

“I’m not going to find out!” Yeri jabbed a finger at a mask sticking out of the wall. “Why do they all have so many teeth?! Why?! It’s just… aesthetically offensive!”

“Because you eat more sugar in a day than they do in their whole ‘scary’ lives,” Kyeong smirked.

“You’re just jealous,” Yeri snorted.

Someone behind them chuckled.

“I’m jealous of your ability to fear a vacuum cleaner with eyes,” Seulgi’s voice came.

“Hey!” Yeri turned around. “That vacuum had character! Its glare said, ‘You’re the last one I sucked up!’ That’s scary!”

Jaeyi snorted.

They rounded a corner where a doll in a cloak swung from the ceiling, and Yeri squealed so loudly Kyeong almost burst out laughing. Still holding her hand.

Seulgi smiled. She felt warm. Happy. Almost calm. Until one moment.

She turned the corner a little later than the others — and something flickered. Not a doll. Not a light. Just a sound. The clink of a chain. The scrape of wet metal. And everything inside her clenched.

Without a word or sound — Seulgi suddenly grabbed Jaeyi. Fingers tight, convulsive. Like she was falling.

Jaeyi spun around sharply — and immediately felt the grip loosen.

“Sorry,” Seulgi whispered. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s okay,” Jaeyi replied softly. “Just breathe.”

She didn’t ask. Didn’t push. Just ran her fingers once over Seulgi’s palm — gentle, warm.
And turned away again as if nothing happened.

---

Panic came without warning. Like a black cloth over the face — soft, but stuck tight. And in that moment, Seulgi got lost.

Kyeong was laughing somewhere at Yeri’s squeal at another fake doll, Jaeyi quietly smirked. Everyone was close. There was light. There was safety. There was now.

And then — a turn.

And silence.

They moved forward. She hesitated for a second. Just looked back. Just breathed in. But as she inhaled, something hit her chest.

Like a nail. The air felt foreign.

The light vanished.

Only memory remained.

> Rusty walls. The smell of dampness.
> A cold basement.
> The lock clicks.
> The iron door shuts.
> “Be quiet.”
> Spiders in the corner. Silence.
> “You’re bad. You deserve it.”
> And — darkness.

Like her body remembered first, before her mind.
Her breath stopped as if stolen.
Her heart beat not in her chest — but in her ears. Her throat. Her temples.

She sank down onto the cold floor. Wrapped her legs, hid her face in her knees.

Her shoulders trembled. Lips whispered:

“Please… I won’t… don’t lock me in…”

Her voice wasn’t hers. Small, broken.
From a time no one should remember.

---

Jaeyi, Kyeong, and Yeri were already almost at the door. Jaeyi's hand reached for the handle—and then she froze.

Something was wrong.

She didn’t know what exactly, not right away. But the feeling hit her like a cold wave: emptiness, too quiet, too *off*. She turned—automatically, without thinking— and felt her throat tighten.

Seulgi.

She wasn’t there.
Not to her left. Not a step behind, like always. No glance, no presence, not even the faintest shift in the air.

Just absence.

Yeri and Kyeong looked at her, silently asking: *Where’s Seulgi?*
Jaeyi didn’t answer. She didn’t know either.
Words felt too clumsy now, too loud for a silence that suddenly seemed almost alive.

“I… I’ll go back for her,” she said shortly—more to herself than to them.

Then she turned and walked away, back into the dark.

---

Jaeyi walked back, glancing around when total darkness fell.

When Jaeyi found Seulgi curled up on the cold floor, in complete darkness — her chest tightened.

Shock first. Because this wasn’t the Seulgi she knew. Not the one who always stands tall. Not the one who laughs boldly, subtly scrunching her nose at Yeri’s silly jokes.

“Seulgi?..” she whispered, breathless. Almost disbelieving.

And in that instant — fear. Not for herself, but for her.
A physical reaction: like someone pulled the rug from under her feet.

She stepped forward but froze. Because Seulgi didn’t respond.

She only heard a sob. Another. And breathing — as if her chest couldn’t keep up.

*Damn, she’s breathing like she’s drowning.
What’s wrong? Panic attack?*

Jaeyi crouched beside her. She wanted to grab Seulgi’s shoulders, shake her, but something inside screamed: be gentle.

She whispered:

“Hey… it’s me… it’s just me. You hear? You’re not alone. It’s okay. It will… end. I’m here.”

When Seulgi didn’t answer — just held herself tighter, burying her face — Jaeyi felt her own heart race, panicking with her.

Desperation rose in her throat. But she swallowed it. Because Seulgi needed her calm.

Seulgi just breathed. Fast. Jagged. Like being held underwater.

Her arms gripped her elbows. Fingernails dug into skin. Her body was a taut string. On the edge.

Jaeyi reached out her hand. Carefully.

Touched her palm.

A strong tremble.

But Seulgi didn’t pull away.

“It’s okay. Just hold me. Like this. Look, I’m here with you.”

She intertwined their fingers. Squeezed gently.

Careful. Not breaking the cocoon. Not pulling her out by force.

Just becoming part of the fear — so Seulgi wouldn’t be alone there.

“Breathe with me. Okay? In… and out. Only together.”

Seulgi shrank into herself as if she wanted to disappear. Completely vanish. Become a shadow. Become air. Vanish from sight, sound, memory.

But the darkness wasn’t just around her — it was inside. It squeezed her ribs, burned her throat, pressed her head.

Her lips trembled, whispering barely audibly:

“I-it’s dark… I can’t…”

Jaeyi heard.

And something inside her chest cracked — silent but strong.

No words were enough.

She didn’t know exactly what was happening to Seulgi. Didn’t know why. But now it didn’t matter. Because in front of her was not just a “friend.” Not just Seulgi. But a frightened soul trapped in her own body.

Darkness seemed to seep into her bones.

Seulgi sat pressed into the corner, fingers clutching her pant fabric, nails still digging painfully into skin. Her breath — broken, fragile, like old glass.

And suddenly — a voice nearby. Quiet. Warm.

“It’s me. Jaeyi. You’re not alone.”

But Seulgi didn’t really hear her. As if all she heard were voices from the past. The ones hissing through the crack under the door. The ones that once screamed and slammed doors.

And she trembled even more, curling tighter.

“Don’t close… please…” she whispered. Her voice almost childlike. Broken. “I’ll be quiet… I didn’t do anything… just don’t again…”

Jaeyi froze. These weren’t words for her. These were words for those who were gone — or those who once left something that never healed.

Seulgi suddenly lifted her head, but her eyes saw no present.

“Please…” she whispered. “I… I really didn’t do anything… just not the basement…”

Jaeyi caught her breath. As if before her was not a grown woman, but a frightened child abandoned in darkness, where every sound is a sentence.

“I won’t hurt you. No one will.”
“I’m here. And I’m not leaving.”

She sank down fully on her knees and slowly, very gently, wrapped her arms around Seulgi from behind, pulling her close.

At first — carefully. Her palm on Seulgi’s back, where it seemed the muscles were tense.

“I’m here…” she whispered, barely touching her hair near the ear. “Just trust… me.”

Her other hand rested on Seulgi’s knee — through the trembling, through the tight thighs. She softly stroked her — first the thigh, then higher, along the side where her ribs trembled from spasmodic breathing.

“You’re not alone. None of this is real.”
“Right now, you’re with me. Do you hear?”

She pressed closer with her whole body, not letting her disappear back into the dark.

Her palm moved in circles down Seulgi’s back — rhythmic, soothing. Almost like a mother’s touch, one Seulgi never had.

“Like this… Breathe. Just breathe, my dear…”

Through Seulgi’s trembling, through her fear and tears, Jaeyi kept stroking her, holding her like she wanted to piece her together from shards.

…Seulgi pressed closer. No words. Still in darkness, but not alone.

Jaeyi stroked her back, trying to be as gentle as possible. But inside she knew — this was only the beginning.

Panic doesn’t let go easily. Seulgi’s heart still pounded as if it wanted to burst out. Her breath was ragged, as if trying to gulp air in a whirlpool.

“Breathe with me,” Jaeyi whispered, “slowly. In… and out.”

She guided Seulgi, not letting her sink deeper.

But Seulgi clung to fear like a lifeline. Her body resisted. Muscles tight as if ready to bolt or freeze forever.

“It’s okay,” Jaeyi said softly, “you’re here. It’s not dangerous. I’m with you.”

She took Seulgi’s hand and pressed it to her chest — to her own heart. The rhythmic, warm beat seemed to say: “You’re not alone.” But Seulgi hesitated, unsure.

Jaeyi didn’t pull away. Her palm gripped Seulgi’s hand tighter, pressing to help her ground.

“Let the fear be,” she said quietly, “but you’re not alone. I won’t let go.”

“Do you feel it?”

*Thump.*
Soft, strong, steady. Like an anchor.

“It’s me.”
“I’m here.”
“My heart is next to yours.”

Slowly, like playing a breath melody, she repeated: in — out, in — out. Quietly, unhurried.

Gradually the tension in Seulgi’s body began to ease. Her eyes still wet, but a little more open.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Jaeyi continued, “and I’m here to help you through this.”

Then Seulgi lifted her head slightly for the first time. She looked at Jaeyi, not directly into her eyes but nearby — and nodded as if saying: “A little more.”

“As long as you want,” Jaeyi smiled, “I’m not going anywhere.”

*I won’t let you go. Ever. Even if you stay silent. Even if you don’t want to talk. I’ll just be here. Until you’re yourself again.*

“Sorry…” Seulgi whispered. “I… I don’t know what this is… I didn’t mean…”

Jaeyi shook her head and placed her hand on the back of Seulgi’s head.

“Don’t apologize. Ever.”
“You’ll be okay. Even if you don’t feel it right now.”
“Just hold me.”

Seulgi pressed closer. No words.
She’s still in the dark. But not alone.

Jaeyi stroked her back.
Silent. No questions. No pressure.

---

The darkness still hangs in the air, but Seulgi—breathe. She is. Not gasping anymore. Not breaking apart on the inside.

She wipes her cheeks with her sleeve. A deep breath. One. Then another. Her body still feels fragile, but it obeys.

Jaeyi doesn’t rush her.

“You ready?” she asks quietly.

Seulgi nods. Hesitant, but honest.

“Let’s go.”

They walk in silence. Step by step. Jaeyi stays just a little off to the side—not touching, but close. Ready to catch her, just in case.
But Seulgi walks on her own.

Outside, the light hits her eyes. The air—fresh, alive. The sounds of the park return like a distant echo: music, voices, laughter.

Kyeong and Yeri rush over.

“So, did you find her?” Kyeong sees something’s off immediately but doesn’t ask.

“Yeah,” Jaeyi says simply. “She just fell behind a bit. I helped her find the way out.”

Seulgi gives a small smile. Quick, almost fleeting—but in her eyes, there's a quiet kind of gratitude. For Jaeyi not saying too much.

Yeri squints.

“Wait… you two were together? That whole time?” Her voice goes sly. “Don’t tell me you had a date in the spooky closet?”

“Obviously,” Seulgi snorts. “Candles, skeletons, deathly vibes. The full romantic package.”

Yeri gasps in mock horror.

“How dare you! I was out here worrying! And you were—”

“—making ghostly connections,” Seulgi finishes, and everyone laughs.

But only Jaeyi notices how, after that laugh, Seulgi’s gaze flickers away again. Like something inside still aches.

And only she sees how Seulgi’s hand tightens around her sleeve, like she’s reminding herself that this—right now—is real. Not what came before.

The laughter continues. Yeri talks non-stop. Kyeong wraps her up in a hug before she bounces out of pure energy.

Seulgi jokes along. Jaeyi smiles.

But beneath all the joking and smiles, only one of them knows: The shadow’s still there. From the basement. From childhood. From the dark.

And she makes herself a promise:
*Even if you never tell me… I’ll still be here. I won’t leave.*

---

The cabin rocked slightly as the ferris wheel started to turn.

Yeri was first to hop in, immediately squeezing in next to Kyeong, grinning like a kid.

“We all fit!” she announced proudly. “Ready to die of fear when we hit forty meters?”

“Why do you say that like we bought tickets to our doom?” Kyeong muttered, but a smile tugged at her lips as Yeri grabbed her hand like a martyr.

Seulgi sat across from them, next to Jaeyi. Outside, dusk had fallen—the park lights glowed soft and bright, reflected in the glass.

Everything looked calm.

But inside Seulgi—chaos.

*How could I? Just fall apart. In a room full of skeletons. I wasn’t even alone… and she still—she still saved me.*

Her chest ached with a hollow kind of hurt. The kind that follows a scream no one hears.

*And she didn’t say a word to the others. Not Yeri, not Kyeong. She just… stayed. Silently. Steady. Like a lifeline.*

Seulgi glanced at Jaeyi from the corner of her eye. Then—lower. Her neck.
The shadow of her shirt collar, the soft glow of the lamp—Seulgi knew what was under it. Bruises. Deep. Purple. From someone else's hands.

*Who did that to you, Jaeyi? Why don’t you speak? Why won’t you say it out loud?*

Her fingers curled tightly on her knee.

*I’ll find out. I’ll make them pay. I swear—I’ll burn my soul to the ground if I have to. If you cried alone—they’ll pay.*

But then—guilt.

*Maybe she doesn’t want to tell me. Maybe she’s scared. Maybe she thinks I’ll lose control. Or do something reckless.*

It all churns inside her like a storm. And even as she wears a faint smile, laughing at Yeri’s jokes—something’s off.
And Jaeyi sees it.

She looks at Seulgi—and she sees it: that distant stare. Not at the lights. Not at them. Inward. Where it still hurts.

And she falls silent too.

*What did she see in the dark?.. What pulled her so far out of reality?*

She lowers her gaze. Seulgi is staring at her neck again.

Jaeyi quickly turns to the window.

*I can’t tell her. Not yet. I’m scared that if she knows—she’ll…*

She remembers that flash of rage in Seulgi’s eyes the day someone mocked Yeri at school. All Seulgi did was raise an eyebrow—and that kid looked ready to beg for mercy.

*If she finds out what they did to me… she’ll walk straight into fire. And I can’t lose her.*

“Oh wow, part two of the haunted date,” Yeri announces, watching her two pensive friends. “We’re just missing the candles and, what was it? Scary skeletons and breath of death?”

“Right, I remember—you wanted to be a corpse bride,” Seulgi snorts, snapping out of her thoughts. “But they rejected you for being too chatty. Even in the grave.”

“Excuse me?!” Yeri gasps. “Say that again and I’ll filter your soul through ‘dumb smile’ mode on my camera!”

Kyeong chuckles, already reaching for her phone.

Meanwhile, the cabin rises to the very top. Everything stills. The city spreads beneath them like stars flipped upside down.

Then, a slight wobble.

“Uhh, why are we moving? I didn’t move!” Yeri stiffens. “Kyeong, was that you?”

“I just shifted!” Kyeong hisses. “Stop yelling or we *will* fall!”

“If we fall, I’m sure I’ll land beautifully. Face-first into cotton candy,” Yeri mutters.

“You’ll land in my nervous breakdown,” Kyeong grumbles.

While they bicker, Seulgi just stares forward. Jaeyi watches her.

And then, softly, Seulgi murmurs:

“Sorry… for dragging you into all that. It was stupid.”

Jaeyi exhales, shaking her head gently.

“It’s not stupid. It just… happens. I only reminded you you were still here.”

Seulgi looks at her. That same shadow still in her eyes.

“No. It wasn’t just ‘something that happens.’ I… I got lost. And you pulled me out. Without even knowing where I was.”

Jaeyi’s voice drops, warm:

“Then… thank you. For letting me be there.”

They look at each other in silence. Quiet. Unmasked. As if the noise of the park had slipped into some other world.

Kyeong suddenly turns with her phone:

“Yeri, you look like you sneezed and got scared at the same time!” she laughs.

“Because I *did*! That’s a skill!” Yeri grins.

“You never change…” Seulgi stares at them and laughs.

And in that moment, as she leans slightly forward, Jaeyi gently takes her hand. Barely there. Subtle.

Seulgi blinks. Glances down. Contact—warm, alive.

*She’s holding me. Just like that. Not out of pity. Not fear. Just—so I stay here.*

And Jaeyi—feels the ache in her chest.

*I may not be able to say everything. But I can do this. I can stay. With you.*

Seulgi squeezes her fingers back. Wordlessly.

And blushes.

Jaeyi turns away slightly, pretending to watch the lights.

But she’s smiling.

---

The park was starting to settle down. The noise softened, the air cooled, and the lights turned warmer. They were just heading toward the exit when Yeri suddenly stopped in her tracks.

“WAIT!” she exclaimed, pointing off to the side. “SHOOTING BOOTH! WITH PRIZES!”

Seulgi turned her head and saw exactly what Yeri meant: a stand draped in oversized plush animals, with a ridiculously large penguin in sunglasses sitting like a king at the top.

“We need that penguin,” Yeri declared with deadly seriousness, throwing an arm around Seulgi’s shoulders. “We will win it for you, my heroines.”

“I’m already scared,” Seulgi muttered.

They approached the booth. Yeri was the first to grab the air rifle, sticking her lip out as she aimed — looking like a contract killer who accidentally stumbled into a kids’ birthday party.

The first three shots — and not a single can fell.

“That sight was clearly defective,” she grumbled, handing the rifle to Seulgi.

Seulgi took her turn, eyes narrowed in concentration. But the cans didn’t budge, as if life itself had glued them down.

When they’d used up all their shots, the booth owner handed them… a tiny plush octopus, barely the size of a hand.

“A dramatic failure,” Kyeong observed, watching from the sidelines with Jaeyi.

“They looked so dangerous,” Jaeyi added, stifling a laugh. “I honestly thought one of them was going to shoot that teddy bear in the eye and make it collapse from fear.”

“Or give the cans PTSD,” Kyeong shook her head. “Like, *we’ve seen things*. Terrible things.”

Yeri spun around and puffed out her cheeks.

“Excuse me for not having a gangster backstory and delicate, lady-like hands!”

Seulgi added in the same tone, a touch bitter:

“I thought my curse was always being the first at everything. Turns out I’m just the first to miss.”

Kyeong clapped her on the shoulder.

“At that, you truly excel.”

“Thanks, Kyeong. That was incredibly rude. And fair.”

Yeri tossed the octopus into Seulgi’s hands and pouted harder.

“I’m done playing. Let the hard-headed ones handle it from now on.”

Kyeong smirked, turned to the stand, raised a brow, and looked back over her shoulder at Jaeyi.

“You coming? Or staying behind like some wise old mentor?”

“No way,” Jaeyi replied, arms crossed. “I’m not falling for some cheap provocation.”

“Sure,” Kyeong snorted. “Says the one who cried at the cartoon with the lion cub and the duck.”

“He left all alone, Kyeong. And I was six! Great memory to bring up,” Jaeyi barked back — but still followed, laughing.

---

Three minutes later...

With the first hit, Seulgi leaned in slightly, and Yeri raised her eyebrows.

“Oooh... it’s starting.”

By the second shot, Yeri was bouncing in place.

“Whaaat?! Did you see that?!”

“I saw it,” Seulgi replied, eyes still locked on the scene. “It’s like watching two cyborgs take over the world. Only with precise shots instead of lasers.”

When the cans on the top shelf crashed down almost at once, Seulgi let out an impressed breath.

“No, but seriously… you two are…”

“SEXY,” she declared, smacking Seulgi’s shoulder like it was a fact of life.

Seulgi snorted but nodded.

“Dangerously competent.”

And when Jaeyi, biting her lip in focus, made the final shot — and the last can clattered to the ground — Seulgi couldn’t help herself. She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the counter, a sly half-smile tugging at her lips as she looked straight at Jaeyi.

“Are you doing this on purpose? Or are you always this special?”

Jaeyi froze for half a second, the rifle still in her hands.

Then she slowly turned her head, locking eyes with Seulgi.

Her cheek flushed, just barely. But instead of answering, she huffed and looked away.

“Say that again — but with dramatic background music.”

Kyeong, standing next to her, burst out laughing.

“Oh god. Somebody hold her. We’ve got romance, level three.”

She nodded toward Seulgi.

“Careful, or she’ll start taking down your self-esteem along with those cans.”

“I already gave up,” Seulgi shrugged. “With that kind of aim, I have no chance. Let her aim with her heart if she wants.”

“HEY!” Yeri cried, offended. “Did you forget about us already?! Where’s our giant bear as proof of love?!”

Kyeong handed over a panda.

“Here you go. Try not to get jealous that we’re better shots.”

Laughter. A light breeze. The scent of cotton candy and sweet, undeniable victory.

And Jaeyi still felt Seulgi’s warm, lingering gaze on her.

She tried not to smile too... affectionately.

The booth owner sighed, handing her a medium-sized plush panda with big dark eyes and soft little ears.

“First winners I’ve had in an hour,” he muttered.

Jaeyi smiled, holding the toy in her hands. She turned to Seulgi and, with a gentle, quiet smile, offered it to her.

“This is for you. You really remind me of it,” she said, and there was honest tenderness in her voice.

Seulgi looked from the toy to Jaeyi — and something flickered in her eyes. Something touched and quiet, as if this little gift carried more than just fluff and fabric. She smiled back, shyly, hugging the panda to her chest.

“Thank you...” she whispered, and warmth spread in her chest, soft and deep — the kind that says someone truly cares.

With theatrical grace, Kyeong handed Yeri her own toy.

“Special delivery, ma’am. For our pint-sized Bond sidekick.”

Yeri squealed with delight, hugged the panda, then suddenly leaned in and kissed Kyeong on the cheek.

Kyeong froze like a crashed computer — then blushed to her ears.

“That was… unexpected.”

“It was a victory thank-you,” Yeri said innocently. “Take notes, Seulgi.”

And then—

“Are you going to thank me like that too?” Jaeyi asked lazily, squinting.

Seulgi stopped in her tracks, turning with a look that screamed: *You just summoned the dragon.*

“Why not?” she whispered, stepping closer. Eyes sparkling. Face dangerously close.

She leaned in…

And Jaeyi, without blinking, gently pressed a finger to her lips.

“Not so fast, lady. I haven’t decided yet if your shot was worthy of my cheek.”

Seulgi froze.

*Did I just… kiss her finger??*

Her face lit up in flames. She stepped back wordlessly — but then suddenly leaned in again.

Way too close. Her lips almost brushing Jaeyi’s ear.

“Careful, princess… you’re not playing by the rules,” she whispered, so softly the evening wind wouldn’t carry it.

Jaeyi’s eyes widened in shock.

“I…” she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“I win,” Seulgi said, stepping away with a smirk, holding the panda like a trophy.

Yeri was already humming something, cradling her panda like a baby.

“Whoever lost at the booth wins in aura,” she declared grandly.

Back at the stand, Kyeong and Jaeyi stood frozen with vaguely stunned expressions.

“She… she really would’ve done it, huh?” Jaeyi murmured, touching her cheek like checking for evidence.

Kyeong nodded solemnly.

“Good luck, sister. You just opened a door… and there’s no exit.”

---

The city began to breathe out — as if the rush faded along with their laughter and the soft lights of the Ferris wheel.

The crowd thinned. The air felt clearer, cooler.

Night claimed its place: the streets gleamed faintly with reflected lamplight, and silence hung gently over the water.

The four of them walked toward the park exit, but soon split off — Yeri pulled Kyeong away, claiming she “forgot to buy water,” and the two of them vanished down another path, leaving Seulgi and Jaeyi alone.

Their steps slowed. Words grew fewer. And as they reached the bridge, the rain began — barely noticeable at first. Light as breath, like the world exhaled under their skin.

Seulgi walked a step behind, watching the drops glide over Jaeyi’s shoulders.

How her hair darkened, clung to her cheek. How she slowly turned, squinting under the glow of the streetlamp.

And Seulgi felt — no, knew — that Jaeyi looked more beautiful than anything she’d ever seen.

Wet strands, raindrops on lashes, the pale light grazing her skin.

The city below shimmered with lights. Seulgi walked forward easily, like everything before this didn’t matter. Jaeyi walked beside her, hands in pockets, shoulders tucked up against the breeze.

“They’re clearly taking their time,” Jaeyi said, nodding toward where Yeri had gone.

“Yeri’s always got something going on. Or at least the appearance of something,” Seulgi chuckled.

A pause. Then the rain thickened, just slightly.

Jaeyi stopped. Tilted her head up. The sky had gone silver.

“I’ll call a taxi,” she said, pulling out her phone.

Seulgi stopped her with a small gesture.

“You don’t like the rain?”

“I…” Jaeyi hesitated. “I’ve never really thought about it. I’ve never just walked in it.”

Seulgi tilted her head, as if studying her.

“Then now’s the time.”

She took her hand. Just like that. No eye contact, no dramatic gesture — simple. Real. The rain turned heavy, and Seulgi pulled her forward — a step, then running. Quiet laughter, water underfoot, droplets clinging to lashes. They ran, outrunning the evening, like they were catching up to something important.

By the time they reached Jaeyi’s place, they were soaked to the bone.

“We’re drenched,” Seulgi said, breathless.

“Yeah,” Jaeyi exhaled. “You can stay. I’ve got dry clothes.”

Seulgi hesitated.

“Maybe I should go. I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing.”

Silence. Then Seulgi nodded.

“Okay. Just for tonight.”

Jaeyi opened the door, and they stepped inside. The entryway was quiet, bathed in warm light.

Her home was big. White walls, high ceilings, clean lines. Everything felt too perfect. Too neat. And very, very lonely.

Seulgi paused by the entrance, looking around.

“It’s like a museum,” she muttered.

“I don’t spend much time here. Just sleep.”

They took off their shoes. Water dripped from their clothes.

Chapter Text

Jaeyi silently took her neatly folded shorts and shirt from the closet—her clothes—and handed them over with a towel:

“Take a shower. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Seulgi glanced at the clothes, then at her, a faint half‑smile tugging on her lips:

“My immune system’s like a battle‑bot. I don’t get sick.”

“Don’t test fate,” Jaeyi said sharply.

“Maybe you’re the soft one? You probably run by the clock.”

“I can wait. You're drenched.”

“We’re both drenched. Rock‑paper‑scissors?”

“No.”

Seulgi sighed, seeing Jaeyi’s gaze harden.

“Okay, okay, I’m going. You win.”

“Good call.”

Seulgi took the clothes and headed to the bathroom, leaving light wet footprints in her wake.

---

She closed the bathroom door behind her, setting the clothes on the sink’s edge, and paused for a moment. The silence here was different—closer than outside or in the house. Here she was... too close.

She peeled off the rain‑heavy shirt and felt the chill ebb away. Turning on the bath, she sat down, sinking into warmth. The water slowly wrapped around her, each minute making breathing easier.

Beside the tub lay Jaeyi’s shirt—simple, white, soft. She reached for it, held it close. It smelled clean. It smelled like Jaeyi. As if the warmth from her hands still lingered in the fabric.

In the dim mirror, Seulgi saw herself: hair disheveled, dark circles under her eyes, a faint scar at her collarbone. And yet—not weak. Just... out of place. In this room. In this moment. And perhaps—for the first time in a long time—not alone.

The water’s warmth softened her tension. It didn’t vanish, but it no longer bruised her heart the same way.

---

Seulgi emerged, floral shampoo scent lingering, hair damp against her neck. The warmth faded from her skin, leaving a gentle tiredness. She wore Jaeyi’s oversized shirt and shorts, the fabric gathered in soft folds. She stepped into the room, rolling sleeves around her wrists—it felt comfortable.

Jaeyi stood by the window. Turning, she froze.

Her gaze swept over Seulgi, quietly taking in every detail. Not like a curious observer—but like someone noticing things she wished she didn’t have to see. As if everything—from bare knees to the slightly fallen shoulder—made reality feel sharper.

Seulgi smiled softly at the edge of her lips. Not teasing—gentle, free of malice.

“I get it, it fits well, but don’t scare me like that,” she said, one brow raised. “Or are you testing how versatile my wardrobe is?”

Jaeyi stuttered, her cheeks flushing. She turned sharply as though she’d seen something important fall to the floor.

“I was just...” she murmured. “Just... looking.”

“Right,” Seulgi said lightly, passing by. “‘Just looking.’ Understood.”

She said no more, but the warmth in her tone lingered—an unspoken acceptance.

Then Seulgi’s eyes fell on the bedside table.

There, leaned against the wall, sat it. Her own teddy. Slightly crooked ribbon—that she’d tied long ago. Her heart felt like it surfaced, along with something strange and tender in her chest.

She approached and picked it up slowly, afraid it might be a mirage.

“Heyyy,” Seulgi whispered, cradling the bear as if it were alive. “There you are.”

She tilted her head and studied its stitched eyes.

“How did you get here? Were you treated well? Did someone feed you? Did she sleep with you?”

The bear was silent, but in that moment it felt like it was listening.

She stroked its head gently.

“Why did you stay?”

She looked up—and met Jaeyi’s gaze. Jaeyi stood frozen in the doorway.

“Why did you…” Seulgi began softly, but Jaeyi averted her eyes sharply, muttering something like “just wait, I need to…” and nearly fled back to the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind her.

Water splashed in silence—like salvation. Or escape.

Seulgi was left alone. With the bear in her hands and a warm, heavy quiet that felt different now—not empty, but translucent, like the breath pattern on glass.

---

The bathwater had cooled, but Jaeyi hadn’t moved. She sat hunched, arms wrapped around her knees, watching steam fade on the mirror. It was so quiet—you could hear the faucet drip in perfect rhythm.

Her thoughts drifted erratically. At first blank, then flooding: Seulgi’s face in her shirt, fabric catching on her waist, rain‑tousled hair. How simply she had stood, at ease at home. As if it wasn’t a big deal.

But Jaeyi knew it was. Because in her chest stirred something warm and awkward. And something sharp creeping across her skin—triggered by Seulgi’s gaze, by the memory of the bear.

She touched her neck. Bruises lingered—reminders of words left unsaid and secrets hidden inside.

She exhaled and stood, wrapping the towel around herself, walking to the bedroom.

Seulgi stood by the bed, holding both teddy and panda. She looked quieter than usual. Almost breathless.

“Why are you standing?” Jaeyi asked softly.

“I wasn’t sure I could… sit down. Everything feels so delicate here.”

“Just sit.”

Seulgi lowered herself to the edge. Carefully. Jaeyi changed clothes, not glaring too suddenly, but avoiding eye contact.

When Seulgi sat beside her, a half‑meter of silence stretched between them.

“Yeri told me about the bear,” Seulgi said softly.

“You dropped it the day you went to the hospital. I... didn’t know how to give it back. Then I couldn’t bring myself to. At some point, he became part of this room. Part of you.”

Seulgi didn’t reply right away. Then she pressed the toy to her chest.

“Thanks for not throwing him out.”

“I couldn’t.”

Silence hung thick.

“You helped me today,” Seulgi said. “It wasn’t just fear. It happens. Sometimes. When I can’t hold it together.”

“I know.”

“In the orphanage, nobody taught us how to deal with things. There was no adult to explain. Cry—locked up. Scream—locked up. Basement. Dark, damp. Sometimes for hours. Sometimes days. No food. Just... you’re in the way.”

“I didn’t know,” Jaeyi whispered.

Seulgi nodded.

“As I grew older, I fought. It was the only thing I could control.”

Jaeyi stayed silent. Then said quietly:

“My parents... just put me in every club so I'd be capable at everything.”

“Sounds like they expected a lot.”

“Everything. Always. And I kept trying until I forgot why.”

Seulgi turned away, looking off into the dark room. After a long pause, she said:

“With you... my life felt alive. That’s what I’ve focused on—real—even though you were playing a part. It was the most true thing in my life. Thank you.”

Jaeyi looked at her, not speaking for a moment. Then, very quietly:

“I didn’t even know it was possible... to be something alive for someone.”

Silence again. Then softer still:

“But if you felt that really... then maybe I was alive too. Even just a little.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me when I messed everything up.”

Seulgi turned back. Their eyes met.

“I held on to you—even when I pretended I was okay,” Jaeyi added. “If you’d walked away then... I'd have stayed behind. Without knowing what I lost.”

“I won’t leave.”

Her voice steady. No theatrics. But firm.

“That’s what leads characters to die,” Jaeyi whispered. “When they say that. Death comes for them.”

Seulgi’s lips curled into a slight smile. No trace of joke, but unmistakably soft:

“Well, if I die in your arms... I can live with that.”

Then, something instinctive. Her fingers traced Jaeyi’s wrist. Laced with hers. Their hands rested, fitting together as if that was meant to be.

“You really want me here?” she whispered.

“Yes.” Jaeyi’s voice trembled. “I just... don’t know how to say it right.”

“You said it fine. Your own way.”

Minutes passed, unspoken.

Jaeyi lay back. Seulgi turned onto her side, closer. Their shoulders almost touched.

“Good night,” Seulgi whispered.

“Good night,” Jaeyi breathed back.

And everything grew quiet—so silent the noise of loneliness seemed to vanish. For once, they were together.

---

Rain rustled outside the window—not harsh anymore, but steady, almost lulling.
Seulgi didn’t wake up right away. It wasn’t sound or light that pulled her out of sleep, but a feeling. Something warm. Solid.

A hand lay across her stomach. Heavy, alive. Long fingers, half-curled, resting softly against her skin. It took her a moment to realize—it was Jaeyi.

Sh
e opened her eyes to darkness. The room smelled of nighttime quiet and something minty—maybe her hair, maybe the bedding. Her heart wasn’t loud, but it beat with a kind of purpose.

It was only then that she felt how close they were. Not in thought. In body. In touch.

Seulgi carefully turned onto her back, and at that moment Jaeyi’s hand slid lower—from her stomach, down slowly, lazily, like the dream wasn’t quite over. It traced her side, brushed her ribs, stopped just above her waist—and stayed there.

Seulgi froze. Her breathing softened. Her skin prickled— with shame, with nerves, with something deeper— a quiet ache to stay in that touch.

She took Jaeyi’s hand in her own. Gently. And placed it back on her stomach—but differently this time. So that it held her.
So that it said, *“This is me holding you, too.”*

She couldn’t fall back asleep. Not for a long time. She just lay there, listening to the breath beside her, thinking how strange it is—how close someone can be, without even knowing. Without realizing.

Then, maybe out of tenderness—or helplessness—she turned fully. Toward Jaeyi. Jaeyi was asleep, hair soft across her forehead, lips slightly parted. Unguarded.

Seulgi brushed her fingertips along her neck. Barely touched skin. It wasn’t a gesture. It felt like a vow.
*I’ll protect you.* From everything that might hurt you. From everything you’ll never say aloud.

Jaeyi’s hand was still on her waist. Seulgi hugged her back—tightly. She leaned in. Pressed her face to Jaeyi’s chest.

*You only live once*, she thought. And if, even once, you get to wake up like this— maybe that’s enough. Maybe that’s already a win.

---

When the light outside started to soften, the world was still quiet. Jaeyi’s body stretched before her eyes opened. She shifted a little, noticed Seulgi—and smiled, suddenly.

“Hi, princess,” she whispered.

Seulgi lifted her head. And realized just how close they were. Too close. Their noses nearly touched. Too close.

Her face flushed—but she didn’t move away. She couldn’t.

“Stop it,” she whispered, trying to turn her face.

“What?” Jaeyi’s voice was calm. “I’m just saying it like it is. You look like the lead in a movie—right before the kiss.”

Seulgi dropped her head back onto Jaeyi’s chest.

“Shut up,” she muttered—but didn’t pull away. If anything, she held her tighter.

“Just tell me if you dreamt of me,” Jaeyi added, her voice light, but with a tremble underneath.

Seulgi buried her face deeper into her chest, completely red.

“I’ll kill you,” she whispered, not meaning it at all.

“Then you’ll have to stay close enough to do it. That works for me.”

And they stayed like that. Close. No explanations. No promises.
Just— in the silence between heartbeats.

---

The room was still dim.
Seulgi lay still, listening to the breathing beside her. The warmth of Jaeyi’s body pressed gently along hers—from hip to shoulder, from the palm still resting on her waist.

The chest under her cheek rose and fell—steady, soft. But the most vivid thing was the sound of Jaeyi’s heart. Clear. Rhythmic. Like the whole world had narrowed to that one beat.

“It’s so loud,” Seulgi whispered. “Your heart.”

Jaeyi’s eyes fluttered open—sleepy, dazed. And then, almost instantly, her cheeks turned red.

“Sorry... I don’t know how to make it quieter. Not when you’re this close.”

Seulgi pulled back a few centimeters and looked up at her. Her cheeks were burning, too.

“So I can affect your heart?”

Jaeyi stared at her for a few seconds, then looked down.

“Say one more word... and I’ll fall in love with you.”

Seulgi stilled. Her breath caught just a little deeper, and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely a whisper:

“Then listen. While I stay quiet.”

The silence between them grew thick—like morning fog. In it, everything had already been said.

Jaeyi closed her eyes, trying to mask the storm inside her— but it escaped anyway, in the curve of a soft smile.

“Then stay quiet. Before it’s too late,” she whispered—and held her tighter.

---

The light in the kitchen poured gently through the curtains, filling the room with a calm sort of morning.

The table was neatly set: thinly sliced fresh vegetables, a green salad with olive oil, a tender egg-white omelette, and a glass of lemon water. Not a crumb of sugar or anything heavy.

They ate in silence.
A comfortable silence.
Words weren’t needed.

And then—Jaeyi’s father walked in.

Tall, rigid, in a charcoal suit. Tension in his shoulders, cold in his eyes. His presence cut through the softness of the morning like a knife.

Jaeyi flinched. Seulgi noticed instantly.

“You must be Seulgi?” His voice was quiet, but sharp, guarded. “Pleasure to meet you.”

Seulgi only nodded.

“School is the priority,” he said to Jaeyi. “Don’t overexert yourself. Stay strong. Stay rational. No distractions. Only results.”

Jaeyi said nothing. Her shoulders dropped, just slightly. She didn’t meet his eyes.

“You wouldn’t want that to happen again,” he added coldly.

Seulgi heard it—and looked at Jaeyi.

Her eyes widened for a second. Then, softly:

“No, Daddy.”

Under the table, Jaeyi took Seulgi’s hand—gently. A silent plea: *Please. Don’t say anything.*

The room went heavy with silence.

---

*Flashback*

They had stood near the stone wall outside Jaeyi’s house. It was a cold, gray evening. The street hummed faintly with the occasional car, but for them, the world felt wrapped in stillness.

Behind a thick curtain on the second floor, Yoo Taejoon watched them.
His eyes, cold and motionless, as if trying to read something foreign—something that didn’t fit his idea of the world.

When Jaeyi crossed the threshold, he was already in the hallway. Tall. Stern. No smile.

“She walked you home,” he said evenly.

She didn’t reply. Silence filled the space between them like a weighted cloth.

“Don’t see her again,” he commanded, like it was a sentence. “She’s a distraction.”

Something trembled inside Jaeyi—but she only nodded and walked away.

---

Later, he summoned her to his office.
The room was cold, dimly lit by a single lamp that cast harsh shadows across the rigid lines of the furniture.

“That girl is a threat to you,” he said calmly, but every word dripped with steel. “She’s ruining your focus. Your reputation. If I see her near you again—there will be consequences.”

Jaeyi looked up—and for the first time, answered firmly:

“I decide who I’m with. You don’t control me.”

His eyes darkened—like a storm twitching beneath a mask.

“I won’t let you become like—”

“Jena?” she interrupted, coldly. Her sister’s name hung in the air.

Taejoon stood up sharply and moved closer.

She stared straight at him. Didn’t flinch.

“Seulgi isn’t the problem. I am. You always say it’s for my own good. But really—you’re just afraid I’ll be weak like Jena. Maybe what scares you is that I didn’t break. That I’m choosing my life. Not your fear.”

Suddenly—he grabbed her by the throat.
Her head hit the wall with a dull thud that echoed down the empty corridor.

“You will obey,” he hissed.
“Or disappear. Just like she did.”

End of memories

---

But left behind the taste of ash.

Jaeyi opened her eyes. Her gaze was fixed on the school bus window, where blurred buildings flickered past. Seulgi sat beside her, not touching. Not reaching. A silence stretched between them—not angry. Not cold. Just full. Of things neither knew how to carry.

They hadn’t spoken on the way to school.
No teasing. No jokes.
Only the soft scuff of sneakers on morning pavement. And the weight of something unnamed.

Seulgi didn’t bring up the breakfast. Didn’t mention Jaeyi’s father. Didn’t speak of the voice carved in iron.

She didn’t say a word— and in that, she said too much.

And yet… it felt like nothing had changed.
Seulgi still flirted. Nudged her shoulder at the lockers, rolled her eyes at Jaeyi’s over-serious answers in class, slipped her hand into hers under the desk—like always. She still smiled. Still winked. Still ruffled Jaeyi’s hair like it meant nothing.
But sometimes—she disappeared.

During breaks, Seulgi would be gone. Nowhere in the library. Not on the field. Not in the empty art room where they sometimes hid from the world.

“She went to get water,” classmates said.
“Helping a teacher,” a friend offered.

But Jaeyi saw it— Seulgi was looking away more often now. As if her thoughts were louder than her voice. And in her vanishing, there was something… quietly aching.

Jaeyi could feel it: Seulgi was starting to search for something. Or maybe—finally discovering it.

Kyeong started disappearing too— and strangely, at the same time. Sometimes one. Sometimes both. No texts. No calls. Just—gone.

Jaeyi and Yeri tried to play it off. Tried to act light, normal. But in the glances they exchanged— there was unease.

And Seulgi and Kyeong? They spoke only in whispers now. Hushed words in corners no one could hear. Their voices carried something sacred. Something they wouldn’t share. Like they were making a pact. Protecting a truth.

In public, they were the same. Smiling. Talking. Acting. But even that started to feel strained.

Between them and everyone else— hung a silence that said more than words. Each hiding a part of the truth. And though Jaeyi and Yeri tried to hold on to the ordinary, the feeling that something was about to break never left them.

But that didn’t stop them from meeting up. It was just that something unspoken had started to form between Seulgi and Kyeong—an atmosphere, like a pocket of air only the two of them could breathe. A secret that Jaeyi and Yeri hadn’t been invited into.

---

Fridays were always something special in their small but tight-knit circle—like a mini holiday after the long grind of classes and work. This time, it had all kicked off days before the actual event, when Yeri made an announcement at their group meetup: she was hosting a proper sleepover at her place. She said it so loudly and with such enthusiasm that no one could resist.

"This Friday!" Yeri declared, flailing her arms. "At my place! Get ready—no one leaves before morning! Movies, food, games, conversations—everything! Whoever misses it misses an epic night!"

It sounded less like an invite and more like a challenge—a promise of the best night ever. Everyone jumped in without hesitation, swearing they'd show up no matter what, even if they had to stand awake until dawn.

---

On Friday evening, as the sky melted into soft shades of twilight, Jaeyi and Yeri were already cozied up in Yeri’s living room. Soft blankets, the scent of hot tea, and a gentle chaos of books and board games made it feel like the coziest place in the world. They were filling time with laughter and half-finished stories, waiting for the others to arrive.

As usual—though it was becoming less of a surprise—Kyeong and Seulgi were late. Exactly twenty minutes. Jaeyi and Yeri didn’t even flinch. They were used to it by now, though it was still odd, especially for Kyeong, who used to be the punctual one. When the door finally swung open and the two walked in, both wore sheepish smiles.

"Kyeong just made a quick stop on the way," Seulgi said, trying to sound convincing, though her eyes were already glittering with laughter.

"Right, right," Kyeong nodded dramatically, instantly turning it into a joke. "It’s Seulgi’s fault, obviously. She has to stop at every booth she sees and stare at random junk like it’s art."

"Excuse me?" Seulgi gasped, mock offended. "I was just... inspired by the aesthetic of street stalls."

Yeri rolled her eyes.

"Okay, that’s it. You two are now officially the most suspicious people in this group."

Kyeong tossed her light jacket onto the coat rack with flair.

"Suspicious... but stylish."

Everyone burst out laughing. It was so them: even when they tried to have a chill night, it never went without sarcasm or teasing. The mood lifted instantly. It was going to be one of those nights—filled not just with warm words, but with real, roaring laughter. The kind that only happens when you’re surrounded by the people who get you without needing to explain a thing.

And in that moment, Yeri looked around at her friends and thought: these nights—they were tiny islands of happiness in the middle of their chaotic lives. And even if someone showed up late, what mattered was that they showed up. Together.

---

Later, after some lively debate (almost a fight) over what to watch, the night finally slid into the part they’d all come for. Everyone got comfortable in their own way: Yeri and Kyeong had collapsed in a pillow pile in the corner, already deep in a debate over who made better ramyeon.

Jaeyi, dressed in a black hoodie and loose pants, had claimed the couch. She lay on her back, legs tossed over the armrest, staring at the screen in quiet stillness. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her sleeve, eyes drifting, half-lidded.

Seulgi walked out of the kitchen with another bowl of popcorn, crossed in front of the TV, and without a second thought, lifted Jaeyi’s legs and sat down beside her. She did it like it was the most natural thing in the world—then gently placed Jaeyi’s legs back, not on the couch, but across her own lap.

Jaeyi froze.

The warmth of Seulgi through the fabric of her pants was... dangerously comforting. Her heart skipped. Maybe twice. Maybe three times.

The movie had started—*Warm Bodies*—and a zombie on screen was beginning to remember what it meant to feel. Fitting, strangely.

"Hold on," Kyeong said. "He’s basically dead, right? So why is he more romantic than any of my exes?"

"Honestly," Yeri chimed in, "if I were that girl, I’d follow him to the grave for that look alone."

"If I were him," Kyeong added, "I’d learn to speak in a week too if someone like that was chasing me."

Laughter erupted.

Seulgi didn’t laugh. She kept her eyes locked on the screen—maybe a little too intently. And then, almost absentmindedly, she started tracing her finger along Jaeyi’s leg. Lightly. Thoughtlessly.

Jaeyi didn’t move. But her whole body screamed. Her cheeks burned. Onscreen, someone was delivering a monologue about hearts and memory, and Jaeyi had no idea where the film ended and her personal crisis began.

Seulgi still wasn’t looking at her. Still gently, unknowingly, stroking her leg.

All Jaeyi could do was pull her sleeve over her hand and bury her nose into her hoodie collar, like maybe it could hide her from her own racing heartbeat.

And inside, it felt like the whole night had turned upside down.

---

"Well! I told you my taste in movies is flawless!" Yeri declared triumphantly as the end credits of *Warm Bodies* rolled.

She was stretched out on the floor, buried in pillows. Kyeong lay beside her, one leg slung over the other, head resting on the couch. Jaeyi was still half-reclined on that very couch—her legs still resting across Seulgi’s lap. Seulgi was still absently running her fingers over the soft fabric of Jaeyi’s pants, eyes locked on the darkened screen.

"That was surprisingly touching," said Kyeong. "Considering I’m not exactly a fan of zombie romance."

"Yeah, well, if I were in her shoes," Yeri smirked, "I’d tell him: ‘You’re dead, buddy. Sorry, date’s off.’"

Laughter again. But Seulgi still hadn’t moved. She leaned forward slightly, as if still trying to read something behind the credits.

"You know..." she said, her voice quiet, almost shy, "maybe it wasn’t even about him becoming human. Maybe he just remembered that he *had* been. And she didn’t need to save him. She just... stayed. And that was enough."

Silence fell. Even Yeri didn’t answer right away.

Kyeong raised an eyebrow. Yeri propped herself up on her elbows. Jaeyi forgot how to breathe for half a second.

"What?" Seulgi glanced at them with a confused grin. "Am I not allowed to sound like a wise zombie once in a while?"

The silence shattered into laughter. Yeri clapped.

"That’s it. You’re now the official philosopher of our zombie universe. We’re putting you on TEDx: ‘How to Keep Your Soul While Technically Dead.’"

---

By then, the last scenes of *Home on the Range* were playing softly on the screen. Yeri was curled up in the big armchair, her whole body alive with the joy of watching something she clearly adored. She mouthed every line of dialogue, laughing like it was her first time, while the others—Jaeyi, Seulgi, and Kyeong—just watched her with fond amusement.

"Exactly!" Yeri shouted suddenly, quoting. "‘If you’re gonna try to scare me, you better catch me first!’" She looked around with mock pride. "I can quote this whole movie and I’m still not tired of it. Fight me."

Kyeong smirked, shaking her head. Jaeyi just smiled, content in the moment.

When the movie ended, they all drifted toward snacks. Plates had already been set out, and the vibe was chill, full of light teasing and shared stories.

Jaeyi got up to grab something from a high shelf. Seulgi was saying something—probably a funny story—when Jaeyi suddenly tripped. She hit the edge of the cabinet with a loud thud.

The world contracted. A flash of pain, the sting of impact, and then dizziness.

"Jaeyi!" Seulgi was at her side in an instant, her voice tight with panic. "Where’s ice? Yeri?!"

"There’s none!" Yeri called back, frantically searching the fridge.

"Then Kyeong and I’ll go to the store. We’ll be fast," she said, already grabbing her coat.

When it was just the two of them, Jaeyi lay on the couch, eyes shut, trying to breathe through the pain.

Seulgi gently slipped a hand under Jaeyi’s head, easing it into her lap. Their eyes met—Jaeyi’s filled with pain, yes, but also something else. That quiet thread of trust, of something deeper.

Without a word, Seulgi ran her fingers softly through Jaeyi’s hair. Slow, careful strokes. Like she was trying to erase the pain entirely.

Jaeyi’s body slowly relaxed. Her breathing evened out. She let out a tiny sigh, almost a sob, thick with warmth and release.

"Sorry..." she whispered, eyes fluttering open.

"Don’t be," Seulgi said, still gently stroking her hair. "I like taking care of you."

"You know..." Jaeyi smiled faintly. "Your hands are magic. Cold, but magic. I actually feel better."

Seulgi just smiled, her hand never pausing.

Silence settled again—gentle, full.

Then Jaeyi reached up, brushed a lock of Seulgi’s hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering just a little too long.

"Thank you for being here," she whispered.

"I always am," Seulgi replied, her voice soft.

And their eyes stayed locked in that silent, endless moment of understanding.

--

The room felt like it had melted away. All that was left was the soft glow of the lamp, the muffled sounds from the street, and quiet breathing. Seulgi didn’t stop running her fingers through Jaeyi’s hair, like she was afraid that if she did, something would break—something delicate and real that had finally settled between them.

Jaeyi said nothing more. She just lay there, feeling the last of the tension dissolve under Seulgi’s touch. The dull ache in her head still pulsed faintly, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore. There was only this—gentle touch, quiet care, the kind of closeness where even silence felt like something you could breathe in.

Then came the sound of keys at the door and familiar voices. Yeri walked in first, arms full with a large bag of ice cream and a chilled bottle of tea. Kyeong followed behind her, giving a knowing little smirk when she saw the scene before her.

“Well well,” Yeri said, stepping closer, “looks like you two managed just fine without us.”

Seulgi only nodded, not stopping her movement. Jaeyi opened her eyes and gave a faint, crooked smile.

“How are you feeling?” Kyeong asked gently, setting the bottle down on the table.

“I’ll survive,” Jaeyi said quietly. “Though I think my forehead’s now legally a magnet for sharp corners.”

“Just another reason to wear a helmet at home,” Yeri said with a chuckle, offering up the ice cream. “Medicinal. Peach flavor.”

Seulgi gently moved Jaeyi’s head back to the pillow and took the ice cream from Yeri’s hand.

“Cool down,” she said, feigning a scolding tone. “Wouldn’t want you to melt from my touch.”

And somehow, only Jaeyi understood how much tenderness hid in that joke.

Later, with the lights dimmed and everyone curled up on the floor under blankets, spoons clinking softly in bowls of melting ice cream, the conversation turned back to the movie. Yeri animatedly recounted her favorite scenes, Kyeong chimed in with calmly pointed plot criticisms, and Seulgi tossed in dry commentary whenever she found the moment.

Jaeyi… sat a little closer to Seulgi than she normally would have. And she didn’t move away when their shoulders brushed, even if just by accident.

The night wasn’t over yet, but something quiet had begun to grow between them—small, careful, almost invisible. Like a seed tucked into warm soil. And it felt like if they just gave it a little time and light… it would bloom.

---

By the time midnight had passed and the TV was still casting flickering shadows across the walls, everyone had slumped into some kind of half-collapse—someone sprawled across pillows, someone wrapped in a blanket, someone face-down on the carpet, surrounded by empty popcorn bowls and discarded ice cream wrappers.

Yeri, lying on her stomach, yawned and reached for her phone to check the time.

“Are we seriously all sleeping on the floor?” she mumbled, propping herself up on her elbows to look around.

“Because we’re broke,” Kyeong replied instantly, with total deadpan delivery. “Not a single bed for the people in this house.”

“Mhm,” Seulgi agreed, scratching her nose. “All we’ve got is friendship, spinal misalignment, and a very old rug.”

“And the unicorn blanket,” Jaeyi added, tugging it dramatically over herself with the air of someone who had accepted their fate. “Which, for the record, is a family heirloom. I think it’s at least a hundred years old.”

“I knew it was from the Joseon dynasty,” Yeri muttered, and they all snorted quietly.

Then silence returned. The kind that didn’t need to be filled. The floor no longer felt quite so hard. The pillows didn’t seem so flat. And the night—suddenly—didn’t feel long at all.

---

The pain came back suddenly—dull and dragging, like a low, echoing bell inside her skull. Jaeyi opened her eyes, not immediately sure where she was. The darkness of the room was soft, wrapped in the muted glow of the moon, slipping through clouds and curtains.

Beside her, so close, Seulgi breathed—still asleep, turned toward her, as if even in dreams she was reaching for warmth.

Jaeyi’s head spun. Not just from the bruise—she’d woken with her forehead pressed to the floor, the wood under her cheek too real, too hard. She pressed her lips together and slowly sat up, careful not to wake Seulgi. The girl still lay completely still, peaceful-faced, her hair a little tousled, her breath as steady and soft as the whisper of ocean waves.

Jaeyi lingered for a moment. Just to look. At the quiet. At the fragile weightlessness of sleep that she, for some reason, wanted to touch more carefully than crystal.

Then she got up. As quietly as she could, and stepped out onto the balcony, hoping the night air would clear her head.

It was cool outside—wrapping around her like a thin blanket—and it smelled like city summer: dust, trees, and distant cigarettes. Jaeyi leaned against the railing and closed her eyes. The pain in her head pulsed like it was trying to match the stars. She breathed slow and deep, as if she could exhale everything pressing inside her.

Behind her, in the dark of the room, Seulgi stirred awake, almost instinctively. The space beside her was empty—cold. Her hand reached out and found only a blanket. At first, she just sat up, rubbed at her eyes, thinking Jaeyi had gone to the bathroom.

But a minute passed. Still silence. Kyeong and Yeri were curled up together, unmoving, breathing evenly in sleep.

Something in Seulgi’s chest pulled tight.

She didn’t wake the others. She stood, still wrapped in her blanket, and walked barefoot out onto the balcony.

Jaeyi stood at the edge, nearly folded into the night. Her back was straight, her hair shifting in the wind. She was there—but part of her felt far away.

Seulgi moved as gently as she could—silent, soft. She reached forward and wrapped her arms around Jaeyi from behind, just barely touching. The warmth of the blanket brushed them both, and her hands slid slowly to Jaeyi’s waist—carefully, like she was asking permission. She didn’t squeeze. Just held. Her hands were warm, steady. Not for herself—for Jaeyi.

Jaeyi flinched slightly, tilting her head—but didn’t pull away.

“You okay…?” Seulgi whispered. Her voice was rough from sleep, but beneath it was worry, wrapped in silk.

“My head,” Jaeyi replied just as softly. “It’s too loud inside. I just… needed air.”

Seulgi leaned in just a little more, still gentle, still not pressing.

“You scared me,” she whispered. “I woke up and you were gone. And I…”

She didn’t finish.

“I’m sorry,” Jaeyi said. She didn’t turn. Just reached up and placed her hands over Seulgi’s. Held them tight. “I didn’t mean to.”

A pause. Then another.

“Can I stay?” Seulgi asked, her lips brushing the edge of Jaeyi’s ear. “Just like this. Here.”

“Please,” Jaeyi breathed. “Just don’t go.”

There was no drama in her voice. Just honesty. So clear it made her fingers tremble.

They stood in silence, alone with the city, the stars, and the wind.

After a few minutes, Jaeyi allowed herself to soften. Her spine stopped being a wire. Her breathing slowed. She leaned back, just a little, and Seulgi caught her effortlessly, never losing a drop of warmth.

Seulgi’s arms held firm around her stomach—not tight, but unrelenting. And Jaeyi held them in return—fingers woven, as if afraid the night might pull them apart if she let go.

So they stood. Two shadows in shadow. Two breaths in one. And the world quieted a little. Brightened, just enough.

Then Seulgi’s voice, soft and wry, nudged the quiet:

“If this is your idea of a midnight escape, I’m flattered I got invited.”

Jaeyi smiled—small, but real—and turned halfway toward her. Their eyes met in the dark. And something lingered in the space between.

Jaeyi looked at Seulgi’s lips.

Seulgi looked at hers.

The silence stretched—until Seulgi, reluctant, broke it with a question:

“How’s your head?”

“Still aching,” Jaeyi murmured.

Seulgi tilted her head. “So… should I give you another magic-hand massage?” She flexed her fingers theatrically against Jaeyi’s stomach, and Jaeyi let out the smallest laugh.

Then, quieter:

“Seulgi… do you know what it means when someone hugs you from behind like this?”

Seulgi hummed softly by her ear. “No… but I think I’d like to.”

Jaeyi’s heart kicked a little too hard against her ribs. Thank god for the dark.

“It means trust,” she said, barely above a whisper. “It’s... when someone holds you where you can’t see them, but you still feel safe. It’s the kind of closeness that says, ‘I’ve got you. You don’t even need to turn around.’ It’s quiet, and strong. And real.”

Seulgi went very still. Then whispered:

“Did you… tell that to a lot of people who held you like this?”

Jaeyi shook her head slowly. Her voice caught as she answered:

“You’re the first I ever let hold me like this.”

And Seulgi—quiet, grounded Seulgi—flushed. Jaeyi could feel it in the stillness of her body, the way her breath shifted, the way her grip hesitated just enough to give herself away.

“You’re the first,” Jaeyi said again, more quietly now. “I’ve never… wanted anyone else this close.”

Seulgi didn’t answer right away. But when she did, her voice cracked just slightly.

“Then I’ll hold you right. I promise.”

The night was so quiet, it felt like it was breathing with them.

Jaeyi’s body, once a little tense, now rested easily in Seulgi’s arms. She could feel everything—the way Seulgi’s chest rose gently against her back, the way her fingers around Jaeyi’s waist would sometimes tighten just a little, like they were making sure she was still real.

Silence again. But this time, it wasn’t empty.
It was a vow. A touch. A beginning.

And above them, a lone star drifted across the sky—as if placing a period.

Or maybe… a comma...

Chapter Text

**Yeri’s apartment was breathing silence.**

Soft light spilled lazily through the curtains, pooling across the floor, grazing scattered pillows, mismatched socks, and half-empty teacups. Somewhere behind a wall, the heater clicked in a sleepy rhythm.

Yeri moved first.

Just a stretch, at first. Then a low grumble as her leg tangled with someone else's. She shifted—only to feel an arm tighten around her. That’s when she realized she wasn’t alone.

She lifted her head.

A pair of sleepy, squinting eyes looked back at her.

“…Seriously?” Seulgi murmured, her voice rough from sleep. “You twist and turn like a cat trapped in a box.”

Yeri stared at her. One beat. Two.

“You breathe like a kettle,” she shot back.

And they both burst into quiet laughter.

It was that kind of laughter only shared between people who’ve spent the night together—not in the romantic way, but in the honest, “life happened” kind of way.

“We cuddled all night?” Yeri raised a brow.

“You’re the one who crawled over,” Seulgi yawned. “I was sleeping in the armchair, thank you very much.”

“Well, you live here now. Congrats,” Yeri said grandly, scooting closer. “Hey—where do you think you’re going?”

Seulgi tried to pull away, but Yeri, still half-asleep, blindly reached out and wrapped her arms around her again.

“Let me hug you. You’re usually so… untouchable. My little ice fortress.”

“Ice fortress?” Seulgi snorted. “You’re literally a walking icicle with attitude.”

“Attitude—yeah, I’ll take that,” Yeri grinned and pressed her forehead to Seulgi’s shoulder.

From the hallway came the sound of footsteps. Kyeong and Jaeyi appeared at the doorway, both in oversized hoodies, wearing expressions ranging from amused to unreadable. Their eyes landed on the two girls curled under a blanket on the floor.

A second passed. Then another.

“Morning,” Kyeong said flatly.

“A very... cuddly morning,” Jaeyi added, deadpan.

Yeri lifted her head and squinted at them.

“You two ditched us?”

“And you two built a cabin on the floor?” Kyeong shot back.

“Real friends-slash-lovers don’t just leave,” Yeri pouted, though there was a laugh rising in her voice. “Next time, you sleep in the bathtub.”

“Only if it’s heated,” Seulgi muttered mid-yawn.

“You know,” Yeri said dreamily, eyes already closing again, “there’s something really… clothing-like about you.”

“…What?”

“You’re like a hoodie. Nothing fancy. But no one wants to take you off.”

Seulgi snorted. Kyeong and Jaeyi rolled their eyes in sync.

And then it was quiet again. Warm. Like the morning had been waiting just for this — four breaths, overlapping somewhere in the sunlit patches on the floor.

---

The kettle in the kitchen was starting to boil slowly. Morning silence clung to everything like a blanket — heavy, soft, unhurried.

Yeri sat curled up on the windowsill in a blanket, hair sticking out in every direction, exuding that chaotic readiness to “do absolutely nothing today.”
Seulgi was busying herself with mugs. Kyeong and Jaeyi were lazily debating whether cupcakes counted as a legitimate breakfast.

“So,” Seulgi said as she settled next to Yeri, handing her a mug, “dreams, anyone?”

“Yes!” Yeri lit up. “I dreamt I was a witch in a mint-colored forest. All my spells were printed on pajamas. Super efficient — sneeze once and boom, fresh socks.”

“Nice,” Kyeong nodded. “I dreamt I was battling a cursed kettle. It kept shouting, ‘You are unworthy!’ and spitting steam at me.”

Yeri snorted into her mug.

“What about you, Jaeyi?” Seulgi turned to her, tilting her head slightly. “Did you dream anything?”

Jaeyi, quiet up until now, looked away.

“Don’t wanna say,” she muttered, sipping her tea a little too casually.

That was all it took.

“Oooooh,” Yeri drawled, grinning. “Was it a Seulgi dream?”

Seulgi choked on her tea.

“Excuse me?!”

“You know…” Yeri twirled her hand dramatically. “A dream, but, like, a personal one.”

“Yeri,” Seulgi sighed. “You are impossible.”

“Which still isn’t a denial, Jaeyi,” Yeri teased. “You’re being way too suspicious right now.”

“I don’t remember anything,” Jaeyi said, entirely unconvincingly.

“Uh-huh. Especially not the part where you’re flying on a cloud while Seulgi plays the harp in a dress made of light.”

“Yeri!” both Seulgi and Kyeong groaned — but laughed anyway.

Jaeyi covered her face, though a smile tugged at her lips.

“Okay, okay, we’ll let her keep that poetic mystery,” Kyeong said with a wink. “But I’m writing it down for future blackmail.”

Laughter filled the room again — warm, gentle, the kind that makes a space feel like home. Then, a pause. The soft kind. The kind that says: you’re safe here.

Yeri, never one to let a pause go unteased, narrowed her eyes at Seulgi.

“What about you? Any dreams?”

Seulgi hesitated. Not because she didn’t remember — but because she remembered too well.

“I… dunno,” she murmured, sipping her tea. “It was weird.”

“Weird how?” Kyeong asked, intrigued.

Seulgi offered a half-smile, but something flickered in her eyes. Something delicate.

“I was in this place with no walls. Just air. Soft light. And I was facing away from someone. I couldn’t see who, but I knew they were close. Almost touching. Breathing — really softly.”

“Sounds like the start of a poem,” Yeri mumbled.

“And then…” Seulgi paused. “They put their hand on my back. Just a palm. No words. Nothing dramatic. But suddenly… everything stopped. The air, the light. Me.”

Silence followed. Not awkward. Just… listening.

“Why?” Jaeyi asked quietly.

Seulgi looked past them, squinting like there was sun in her eyes that wasn’t there.

“I don’t know,” she said. “It wasn’t a sad dream. Just… like someone was holding me, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t have to be strong.”

No one said anything. Even Yeri stayed quiet.

“That’s it?” Kyeong asked after a while.

“That’s it,” Seulgi lied. Because she didn’t say the most important part.

In that dream, when she finally turned around — so slowly, afraid the moment might shatter — she saw a face.

Jaeyi’s face.

But even in the dream, Seulgi hadn’t dared to reach out.

And somehow, that made all the sense in the world.

Now, Jaeyi was looking at her with that same quiet intensity. Not suspicion, not confusion — but something softer. Like she recognized something.

A beat passed.

Then Seulgi cleared her throat and added:

“And then I fell into a giant tub of chocolate ice cream. I’m still convinced that’s Yeri’s fault — she did mention cheesecake at 2 a.m.”

“Guilty,” Yeri shrugged, grinning. “But now you have to come get ice cream with me. It’s a sign from your subconscious.”

“Only if you stop decoding my dreams like Freud with a hangover,” Seulgi mumbled, dragging a pillow over her face.

Laughter washed over the room again — light, saving them all from the depth none of them were ready to dive into yet.

---

Yeri, wrapped in a blanket like a cape and holding a cup of tea, had sprawled dramatically across the couch, lazily eyeing Seulgi, who was sitting by the window, still a little distant, like some leftover dream was wandering through her mind.

"Hey," Yeri said suddenly, squinting. "Get over here. I need to hug you again. Urgently."

Seulgi didn’t even turn around.

"No," she replied flatly. "My daily quota for friendly affection has been met. Actually, make that the monthly quota."

Yeri stretched out an arm toward her, theatrically grasping at the air.

"What?! You think that just because you allowed it once, I’m done now? Ha! I will get to you again eventually. You just… have really comfortable energy fields."

Seulgi snorted without looking back.

"No thanks. My physical space has already survived one round of your overly enthusiastic affection," she said, scooting back in exaggerated defense. "You’ve got a new cuddle victim now anyway—Kyeong."

Yeri sat up immediately, her eyes lighting up with mock vengeance as she turned toward Kyeong.

"Kyeong, brace yourself. I’m coming for you."

Kyeong, who’d just been reaching for her cup of tea, froze.

"Why are you so clingy this early in the morning?" she muttered. "Go hug the president or something."

Right on cue, everyone turned to look at Jaeyi.

"Don’t even think about it!" Jaeyi blurted out, raising her hands like she was warding off wild animals. "I’m just… not a morning-contact person."

Kyeong raised a brow.

"You say that like it’s an official executive order."

Yeri burst out laughing.

"Seulgi, you have to fix this. Our president has trust issues. Soften her up. Bear hugs. Gently. You’ve got the technique..."

Seulgi rolled her eyes, though her lips twitched.

"I’m not a therapist. And definitely not a hugging apparatus."

"Convincing lie," Yeri shot back, now lying with her head on Kyeong’s knee. "You may not be therapy, but after your hugs, I sleep like a baby and walk around like someone who has a purpose in life."

"That’s coffee, Yeri. Not me."

"Maybe you are my coffee," Yeri sighed dreamily.

"Diagnosis confirmed," muttered Kyeong.

"Madam President," Yeri said, turning dramatically to Jaeyi, "do you see what you’re missing?"

Jaeyi let out a long breath.

"If anyone so much as tries to hug me, I’m filing it under ‘threat protocol.’"

"Seulgi," Yeri leaned forward. "You’re required to hug her. For team morale."

"Great. Now we’ve got a union rep," Seulgi muttered, but stood up anyway. She walked over to Jaeyi and paused. Silence.

"I warned you," Jaeyi whispered. "I do bite."

"Logged," Seulgi nodded. "Attempt number one… at eye contact distance."

And instead of a hug, she lightly poked Jaeyi in the forehead with her finger.

"Deep connection achieved. System reboot initiated."

Jaeyi blinked.

Kyeong snorted.

Yeri clapped her hands.

"That’s it, we’re officially a team now. We even have a bonding ritual!"

---

"Okay," Yeri declared solemnly, settling into a pile of pillows on the floor, "time to choose who gets to take the wheel of fate first."

"Let Kyeong go," Seulgi offered immediately. "Her intuition is… unique."

"Thanks," Kyeong snorted. "Then you can be my voice of reason."

"I decline," Seulgi said firmly. "I’m strictly an observer here. No responsibilities."

"Yeri’s the navigator," Jaeyi cut in, perched on the couch beside Seulgi. "She clearly knows how these things work."

"Listen, I’m a certified expert in virtual disasters," Yeri said proudly. "And I stand by that title."

Laughter rippled through the room.

Kyeong picked up the game controller as the game loaded. The screen faded in, revealing a character standing in dusky light, faced with three dialogue options. Yeri immediately loomed over her, snapping her fingers.

"Just don’t pick ‘I trust you like a brother’! That’s an instant death sentence."

"But I want to see what happens," Kyeong grinned.

"You know this is going to end in flames," Seulgi groaned.

They argued, laughed, interrupted each other, jabbing at the screen and tossing out opinions. Off to the side, on the couch, in their own little quiet corner of the universe, Seulgi and Jaeyi sat side by side. Their shoulders nearly touching.

At one point, Seulgi laughed so hard at one of the game’s absurd dialogue choices that she slapped Jaeyi’s knee without thinking. Lightly, barely. But for Jaeyi, it was like a jolt of static electricity.

Something tightened inside her, then lit up. She didn’t let it show, just allowed a small, almost unnoticeable smile to grow at the corner of her mouth.

"Watch—she’s gonna pick the weirdest option again," Seulgi whispered, leaning in so her hair nearly brushed Jaeyi’s cheek.

"I’m already mentally preparing myself," Jaeyi replied, leaning in too. Their shoulders brushed, just slightly. Neither of them moved away.

Meanwhile, Yeri was shouting:

"Pick HIM! He has a moon tattoo—that’s fate calling!"

"Yeri, he’s the villain," Kyeong pointed out. "He’s going to betray everyone."

"*But so beautifully!*"

Laughter filled the room again.

Seulgi turned slightly to Jaeyi, her gaze still on the screen, and asked softly:

"Would you have picked him?"

"Too theatrical," Jaeyi shrugged. "Feels like he rehearses every line in the mirror."

"Then who?"

Seulgi was quiet for a second, then said in a low voice:

"Someone who’s just… there. No promises, just warmth. Even in silence."

Jaeyi caught her eyes. And didn’t look away.

On-screen, the heroine said:

> *“I don’t know why, but when I’m with you, I’m someone else.”*

Yeri froze.

"Why do I feel like I’m third-wheeling a date?"

"Because you are the third wheel," Kyeong deadpanned.

"Don’t be jealous of my feelings," Yeri said, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. "This man understands me on a soul level."

Laughter returned once more.

But between the two on the couch, everything stayed quiet. And warm.

At some point, Jaeyi leaned in toward the screen, like she was trying to read something closer, and Seulgi, without taking her eyes off her, murmured:

"Careful. One more move like that, and you’ll expose all your secrets."

"Only if you go first," Jaeyi murmured back.

And for a second, they froze.

Then—

"Yeri," Kyeong said flatly, "if you pick ‘You’re like a brother to me’ *one more time*, I’m throwing you off the balcony."

"Then let it be known: I die with dignity."

And once again—laughter exploded in the room.

---

The game had been going for a while — they were halfway through the story, the dialogue growing more dramatic, and the choices increasingly, dangerously ambiguous. The controller had been passed around a few times, but at some point, it all faded into the background.

Seulgi sat perched on the edge of the couch, one leg slung over a pillow, her elbow resting on the backrest. She was gently rocking, lazily watching the screen. She looked almost regal — like a predator surveying its domain, if not for the tired little chuckle she let out.

“If she says ‘I love him, but I’m afraid of my feelings’ one more time,” Seulgi muttered, squinting at the screen, “I’m personally jumping into this game to shake some sense into her.”

“Yeah,” Yeri laughed, “and yell, ‘Take some accountability for your decisions!’”

“Or, ‘You need a therapist, not a brooding hot guy with tragic backstory,’” Kyeong added.

All three burst into laughter. It was so sudden and contagious that Seulgi, throwing her head back in a fit of laughter, lost her balance. She tumbled backward in slow motion — softly — and landed straight onto someone’s lap.

Jaeyi’s.

Instant silence. Inside Seulgi. Inside Jaeyi, too.

“Oops, sorry,” Seulgi mumbled, immediately pushing herself up, “I didn’t mean to, I—”

Jaeyi didn’t say a word. But before Seulgi could get up, a gentle touch landed on her shoulder — Jaeyi’s hand. Warm, but firm. A quiet, wordless invitation to stay.

Seulgi froze.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she lay back down. Carefully. Her head rested on Jaeyi’s lap. Her hair spilled loose. Her lashes lowered. Her breath uneven.

A moment of perfect stillness wrapped around them.

Seulgi didn’t move. A wave of heat rose from her chest to her cheekbones, settling in her face. Lying there on Jaeyi’s lap, she met her gaze for a second — then looked away quickly, almost shyly, and shifted onto her side, settling more comfortably.

Yeri and Kyeong were still bickering loudly over the next move in the game, throwing jokes back and forth like a competition to see who was wittier. Seulgi, still curled up in Jaeyi’s lap, smiled quietly to herself, listening to their playful back-and-forth.

Jaeyi’s fingers began to run through Seulgi’s hair — so lightly it felt like air. As if combing invisible knots. Her palm smoothed out strands, gently carding through them like she was trying to keep every lock in place. It wasn’t just a touch — it was tenderness made physical, speaking without a single word.

Seulgi stilled — her heart skipped a beat, her breath slowed just a little. She felt the warmth of Jaeyi’s hand seep from her scalp down her spine like a calming stream, carrying away the noise and weight of the world.

She couldn’t — and didn’t want to — turn her head to meet Jaeyi’s eyes. But inside, she felt the fullness of the moment. Slowly, almost shyly, she placed her hand on the knee where her head rested — grounding herself. Finding balance. Reaching back, just a little.

Jaeyi felt the contact, and her heart gave a quiet stutter. This was more than comfort or friendship. It was a silent conversation just for the two of them, hidden in plain sight. Around them, the laughter and game chatter continued, but in their corner of the room, time had slipped into stillness.

They were alone — together — in a small world where nothing else mattered.

---

The karaoke room felt like a cocoon. Dim, muffled lighting, sound-absorbing walls, and an old screen blinking with lyrics. Drinks and snacks scattered on the table, along with scraps of paper scribbled with song titles. Yeri was the first to crash onto the couch and grab the mic.

“Okay! Who’s up first?!” Her voice rang out like a bell in the cramped little room.

“You are,” Kyeong waved her off, sipping from her glass. “This was your bright idea.”

“No-no-no, I’m not singing alone. Seulgi! Come with me!” Yeri grabbed Seulgi by the wrist and practically dragged her to the screen.

“Yeri, I don’t—” Seulgi started to protest, but it was already too late. The opening notes of *Falling Slowly* by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova filled the room.

The melody wrapped around them like something soft and familiar. Yeri started first, her voice trembling with nerves — but the moment Seulgi joined in, everything clicked. Their voices blended gently, sincerely, like they weren’t just singing, but sharing something intimate. The room went still. Even Kyeong, already eyeing her next pick, fell quiet and hummed along.

Next came a duet between Yeri and Kyeong — some old-school K-pop song they exaggerated dramatically, laughing and goofing around. Kyeong even did a mock dance routine with the mic as her imaginary partner.

“Alright, watch out,” Seulgi said, getting up. “It’s my turn to be iconic.”

The screen flashed with the opening to Jennie’s *SOLO*. Seulgi carried herself with confidence, a sly half-smile playing on her lips as she moved with the rhythm like the stage was hers. At one point, when she turned her back to the group and leaned toward the screen, Jaeyi leaned closer and whispered in her ear:

“You’ve got such a cute voice.”

Seulgi just smirked and kept singing — but the blush that bloomed on her cheeks gave her away completely.

Then it was Jaeyi’s turn. Hesitating a little, she sat on the edge of the stage and chose *You Are My Sunshine*. A simple, almost naive song. But as the first few lines rang out, the room held its breath.

Her voice was soft, warm, with just a touch of velvet. No edge, no cool detachment. Just light. Seulgi, sitting nearby, felt her breath catch. Her shoulders trembled slightly — not from the sound, but from everything behind it.

Even Kyeong and Yeri fell quiet. All eyes turned to Jaeyi. The song ended.

“That was incredible,” Yeri breathed. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jaeyi?”

“You sing like you’re keeping a secret — about love,” Kyeong said, squinting at her. “Just don’t start whispering any of it to me later.”

Jaeyi laughed, hiding her face with her hand, blushing. Seulgi said nothing. Just sat, staring at a single point. Frozen.

“Uh, is she okay?” Yeri poked. “Or is this a music-induced trance?”

Seulgi blinked like she was waking up.

“I’m fine. Just... unexpected.”

Later, while Kyeong and Yeri bickered about the next track, Seulgi leaned toward Jaeyi.

“You know, it’s not just your voice that’s cute,” she whispered, barely making eye contact.

This time, it was Jaeyi’s turn to blush.

Laughter, raised voices, debates over theme songs and Disney soundtracks filled the room again. But something had shifted between Jaeyi and Seulgi — something quiet, but real. Like a final note struck just a little too close to the heart.

---

The soft half-light of the karaoke room grew cozier as the four of them began to truly relax. Song after song, emotions came in waves — from ridiculous laughter to unexpectedly tender moments. They weren’t just singing — they were living tiny stories through every track.

Yeri, glowing after her latest performance, collapsed onto the couch next to Kyeong.

“That’s it, that was my peak! It’s all downhill from here!” she laughed, jabbing Kyeong in the ribs. “Come on, save our setlist!”

“Nope,” Kyeong waved her off, “still recovering from the national anthem. I need spiritual rehab.”

Seulgi, still a little dazed from Jaeyi’s song, sat next to her — maybe just a bit closer than before. Jaeyi’s arm rested along the back of the couch, and when it brushed Seulgi’s shoulder, she didn’t flinch — just glanced sideways, as if trying to tell if it was really accidental.

“By the way,” Yeri said, pointing at Jaeyi, “you’re studying medicine, right?”

“Yeah,” Jaeyi nodded, sipping her water. “Internal medicine, pathophysiology, surgery… you know, everything that doesn’t kill me makes me a doctor.”

“That sounded like you’ve already cut someone open,” Yeri narrowed her eyes.

“Not yet. But if you keep going,” Jaeyi turned to her, completely deadpan, “I’ll perform emergency brain surgery. Or heart surgery. Right here.”

Laughter drowned out the music. Yeri huddled next to Kyeong like she was hiding.

“Ahhh! The president is back! Who let her near a license?!”

“Don’t worry,” Seulgi murmured quietly, “she’s careful with the ones she cares about…”

The words lingered in the air. Jaeyi raised an eyebrow, looking at her.

“Feels like there’s a romance unfolding and we’re just extras,” Kyeong muttered, flipping through the songbook.

“Shh, don’t interrupt. This is our drama’s second act,” Yeri whispered, winking.

“Ooh, this one!” she shouted, stopping on *We're Going With You, With the Moth and the Bee* from *Adventure Time*.

“What is this kindergarten nonsense?” Kyeong scoffed.

“Silence! It’s the anthem of our friendship!”

Yeri jumped up and pulled Seulgi with her again. Everyone sang along — even Kyeong, despite grumbling that she looked ridiculous. It was too loud, off-key in places, and completely sincere. No one wanted it to end.

“That’s it,” Yeri croaked into the mic, “we’re starting an idol group. We’ll be called *The Lost Tonic*. Because we’re energizing — but also a little lost.”

“Or *BPM 4* — because someone’s heart rate is *off the charts* right now,” Kyeong teased, glancing at Seulgi.

---

Jaeyi leaned toward Seulgi again, this time without words — their eyes met, and the silence between them held everything: warmth, recognition, something unspoken but fully understood. Seulgi blushed but didn’t answer right away. She simply nestled in a little closer.

“My head’s spinning,” she murmured softly.

Jaeyi smiled, as if it were the most beautiful melody she’d ever heard.

When the laughter died down a bit and Kyeong and Yeri were busy arguing over who’d pick the next song, Seulgi reached across the table for her cocktail — but her elbow slipped on the smooth surface, and with a soft thud, she fell to the plush carpet, hitting her temple on the edge of the couch.

“OW!” she cried out, clutching her head. “Now I’m seeing cartoons.”

Yeri didn’t miss a beat. She leaned forward with a smirk.

“Well, with how often you get hit in the head, I won’t be surprised if one day you wake up and forget your name. You’ll just be… I don’t know. Dory.”

“I’m already Dory,” Seulgi groaned, still holding her temple but smiling crookedly. “I forget everything anyway — especially when it’s convenient. But if Jaeyi sings me that song again with *that* voice…” — she squinted at Jaeyi — “…I swear, I’ll remember everything. Where I live, what day it is, even why I cry like it’s the first time every time I watch *The Green Mile*.”

Jaeyi looked away quickly, but the corners of her lips betrayed her.

“Sounds suspicious,” Kyeong chuckled, reaching out to help Seulgi up. “Was that your roundabout way of confessing something?”

Seulgi just grunted in response and leaned on Kyeong as she sat back down, finally managing to bring the cocktail to her lips. She took a sip. Then another.

“If it was a confession, it’s like a goldfish one — I’ll forget and do it again in five minutes. Very efficient system,” she said with a wink.

Yeri clapped her hands.

“That’s it! I’ve got it. We’re forming an idol group. Name: *Dory and the Ones Who Remember*. Our concept: romance and amnesia.”

“I’m out,” Kyeong replied. “Don’t make me sing about butterflies and that stupid bee again…”

“We’ll go with you, with butterflies and the bee…” Yeri crooned in fake vibrato, reaching dramatically for Kyeong.

“Stop,” Kyeong groaned. “I can’t take this kindergarten energy anymore.”

“But you’re smiling,” Seulgi noted, now leaning on Jaeyi’s shoulder. Jaeyi’s hand rested gently on Seulgi’s back, barely noticeable.

“That’s because you’re like Dory. Short-term memory. You won’t remember that I laughed,” Kyeong retorted.

The room filled with light and laughter again. The lamplight danced in their empty glasses and the glint of their eyes. Everything felt light — almost weightless. But in the touches, the glances, and the stillness between moments, there lingered a quiet — the kind where the heartbeat sounds just a little louder than usual.

---

The night was warm. The air smelled like sun-baked pavement, dust, and leaves. The city buzzed somewhere behind them — but their little street was wrapped in a soft kind of darkness, broken only by the occasional streetlight.

They walked side by side, unhurried. Seulgi kept her hands in her pockets, as if to keep them from shaking. Jaeyi walked just a little ahead, but every step seemed perfectly in sync with Seulgi’s breathing. There were no words yet. None were needed.

“You know…” Seulgi said quietly, eyes still down. “When you were singing… it felt like…” — she hesitated — “like someone turned on a light in my chest. A warm, neon kind of light. Like I didn’t have to be scared anymore.”

Jaeyi turned to her. She was standing beneath the shadow of a streetlamp, eyes slightly squinted, as if shielding herself from her own feelings.

“You talk like you’re naked,” she said with a small smile, though her eyes stayed serious.

“It feels like that,” Seulgi exhaled. “Like I don’t have any skin on.”

She paused, then added:

“Your voice… if I were lost in the dark, completely lost — you could get me out. Just sing. I’d follow.”

Jaeyi exhaled sharply, shoulders lifting like from a sudden gust of wind.

“Seulgi…”

She said her name almost like a whisper. Slow. Soft. Like she was tasting it.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted someone to hear that in me. Not ‘you’re cool,’ or ‘you’re confident,’ or ‘you’ve got perfect pitch.’ But this… What you just said.”

They stopped in front of Seulgi’s building. The light behind them cast long shadows on the pavement, nearly merging into one.

Seulgi stepped closer. She didn’t ask. Just walked into the space between them — the space where breath was meant to be shared.

She wrapped her arms around Jaeyi. Slowly. Gently. As if afraid to startle her. One arm around the back, one at the shoulder. Her palm rested lightly against the back of Jaeyi’s head. Jaeyi held on like the city had fallen away and only this moment remained.

Their breathing matched. Uneven. Slightly nervous. Their hands moved slowly across each other’s backs — not searching, but memorizing. There were no words. Only warmth. Only closeness — not of bodies, but of trust. Of being seen. Of knowing that here, no one takes a step back.

“Thank you,” Jaeyi whispered into Seulgi’s collarbone. “Just… for being like this.”

Seulgi exhaled, barely audible. And without letting go, she thought:

*I love her so much. All of her. One hundred percent. And I’ll tell her on Monday.
If she’s not ready — I’ll wait.
But I’m not stepping back anymore.*

No one could say how long they stayed like that. Maybe minutes. Maybe a lifetime.

But when they finally parted, their faces held the same expression — like they’d just been breathing inside one shared heart.

“Text me when you get home,” Jaeyi said suddenly, casually.
But her voice carried everything she didn’t say aloud.

Seulgi squinted, smirking playfully.

“What’s this? Worry? Are you saying you actually care about me?”

“I may not look it,” Jaeyi replied softly, “but I do care, Seulgi.”

She said it quietly. Calmly. Almost too sincerely.

Seulgi, who had been ready with another teasing comeback, faltered. Her eyes lowered. The corners of her mouth twitched — and her whole face softened. Vulnerable. Blushing.

She looked like she’d lost her balance for a moment — like her heart had skipped a beat.

“Oh,” she breathed. “So the president finally makes a move…”

But she quickly recovered, raising her eyebrow, playful again — hiding behind a joke from the storm inside.

“Maybe I’ll send you a very long message. With a detailed route from my door to my bed. Just for you.”

“Don’t forget a selfie,” Jaeyi teased, already smiling again, though her voice still trembled with leftover emotion.

Seulgi stepped back slowly, eyes still on her.

“Alright then. See you Monday, my serious one.”

“Good night, Seulgi.”

“Sweet dreams, Jaeyi.”

And with that, Seulgi turned to leave — but still looked back more than once.
Jaeyi stood at the entrance longer than she needed to — like she wasn’t quite ready to let the evening go.

---

**12:03 AM**

Seulgi closed the door behind her and kicked off her shoes without turning on the light. The apartment breathed quiet, just like her chest. Jaeyi’s voice still echoed in her head. Her face in the dim light. The final words she’d whispered.

She sat on the couch, stared at her screen for a long time, then finally typed:

> **Princess ♥️:**
> Touchdown. Safe. No injuries. Though the step in the stairwell *did* try to assassinate me.

> **Princess ♥️:**
> Are you worried because I’m adorable? Or because you’ve already diagnosed me?

The reply came almost instantly. The screen lit up with a familiar name:

> **My Favorite President ♥️:**
> What took you so long? I almost contacted the Missing Adorable Seulgi Hotline.
> I worry because you’re the only patient who makes my heart race.
> And I can’t have you breaking before I give you my final diagnosis.

Seulgi covered her mouth with her hand. It was *almost* a confession. Almost. But not too much.

> **Princess ♥️:**
> Just… took a walk. Checked if my skull was cracked 🙃
> Weirdly… this is the first time anyone’s really worried about me like that.
> I don’t even know how to respond without blushing.
> …You’re criminally sweet, Jaeyi.

> **My Favorite President ♥️:**
> So… no skull fracture?
> Just don’t lose your memory on the way to the shower. Or I’ll have to sing *that* song again.

> **Princess ♥️:**
> Well, I *am* still talking to you — so either I’m fine, or I’m already Dory.
> *Builds staircase out of steps just to fall again and hear the song.*
> I’m going now. Otherwise you’ll drive me crazy before bed.

> **My Favorite President ♥️:**
> Fair.
> You’re so beautiful when you’re flustered.
> (Hope you haven’t gotten into bed yet — you might’ve forgotten how to sleep and I’ll need to sing you a lullaby.)

> **Princess ♥️:**
> One more word like that and I’ll say something I’ll regret in the morning.

> **My Favorite President ♥️:**
> I wouldn’t regret it.
> Sleep well, Seulgi.
> Really. I’m so glad you were there tonight.

> **Princess ♥️:**
> And I’m glad you sang for me.
> You have no idea how much it meant.
> Good night, Jaeyi.

Seulgi stared at the last message for a long time without closing the chat. She hugged the panda Jaeyi had given her, turned off the sound, and thought:

Maybe, for the first time in a long while…
she really felt okay. Not loud. Not dazzling. Just — okay.

***

**Another day off**

But for Seulgi, it was anything but restful—inside, she was chaos. She sat curled up on the windowsill, wrapped in a blanket, staring at her phone screen. Her fingers hovered, again and again, over the message icon. That chat. Those last few messages. Her heart skipped a beat every time Jaeyi’s name lit up.

The problem was, somewhere between that night, two cups of tea, and the countless memories of being wrapped in Jaeyi’s arms—Seulgi realized she was in deep. Hopelessly deep. And admitting it, even to herself, felt almost shameful. But what was worse—far worse—was not knowing what to do about it.

Monday came, and she arrived at school earlier than usual, back straight like a ruler, breath stuttering every few seconds. And—of course—Jaeyi wasn’t there.
“She had something today,” Yeri said, sipping from a juice box like it was a royal scepter. “She’ll be back in the afternoon.”

“Yeri…” Seulgi didn’t lift her gaze. “What if… say, someone had a friend. And suddenly they realized they had… feelings. Not like, ‘Oh yay, I’m glad we’re friends,’ but more like, ‘Every time I see you, my heart does a backflip.’”

Yeri turned toward her. A glint sparked in her eyes—teasing at first, then curious.
“A friend, huh?” she drawled. “And this *friend*, by any chance… isn’t you? Or are we doing shadow puppets now and you’re reading from a play?”

Seulgi rolled her eyes, but with no heat.
“I’m serious.”

“Okay, okay,” Yeri raised her hands in mock surrender. “So what’s this mysterious girl’s problem?”

Seulgi took a breath like she was about to dive underwater. “She doesn’t know how to say it. Or if she even should. Everything’s tangled. Her heart races, her breathing’s off, her head won’t stop spinning. It’s like feelings are this rogue storm, and she’s in the middle of it without a compass. And… this person means so much to her. Too much. So much it’s terrifying to even *risk* shifting what they already have.”

Yeri watched her. No jokes this time.

“And if it was you… how would you tell Kyeong that she’s… not just someone you like?”

Yeri leaned back on the bench, head tilted toward the sky.

“Well… I’d walk up to her, hand her a bouquet of instant noodles, and say, ‘You’re like the spice packet in my life. Without you, everything’s bland.’”

Seulgi let out a weak laugh, then buried her face in the collar of her sweater.
“Yeri…”

“I know, I know,” Yeri lowered her head again. “I joke because it’s easier than talking seriously about feelings. It’s always easier to hide behind sarcasm. But…”

She reached out, tucked a loose strand of Seulgi’s hair behind her ear, and said so quietly the wind nearly carried the words away:

“If I had a friend like that… and I saw the way her eyes lit up when she talked about this person… I’d tell her: ‘Say it. Even if you’re scared.’
Because fear isn’t a sign you *shouldn’t*. It’s a sign it *really matters*.”

Seulgi stared into the glass, where trees blurred into silhouettes and students walked past, distorted.
“And what if… what if that person gets scared?”

“Then what?” Yeri shrugged. “You’ll be there. You’ll support them. Step back if you have to, but stay close.”

“And if they… if she says no?”

Yeri was quiet for a long moment. Then she leaned closer.

“Then you’ll still be you. You won’t have betrayed yourself by being honest. But if you don’t say anything—there’ll always be a ‘what if.’ And you deserve the truth. Even if it hurts.”

Seulgi dropped her face into her hands.
“Sometimes you sound like a philosopher in a coffee shop.”

“A philosopher with mango juice,” Yeri grinned. “Just don’t forget: even if the words aren’t perfect—even if your voice shakes—they’re yours. And that’s the strongest thing you can offer.”

Seulgi looked at her.
“Thanks… for not joking this time.”

“Oh, that’ll cost you. Chocolate tax for emotional labor.”

“I’ll remember.”

They sat a while longer in silence. Just breathing. And somewhere in that quiet, between breaths, between heartbeats, Seulgi let herself think about the future—not as something terrifying, but as something possible. Students began trickling in for class.

---

Seulgi approached Jaeyi during break—quieter than usual, less sure of herself than she wanted to be. They stood in the hallway, where sunlight filtered through dusty windows, falling in warm patches across the floor.

“Hey…” Seulgi began, avoiding eye contact. “Could you wait for me after class? Outside. I… I just… need to talk to you. Is that okay?”

Jaeyi raised an eyebrow slightly.
“Of course. Is everything okay?”

Seulgi gave a smile—the kind that’s stretchedtoo tight, on the edge of snapping.
“It will be.”

And she disappeared before Jaeyi could ask anything else.

---

After class, just as promised, Jaeyi stepped outside to wait. The air had turned cool—the sun drifting down to rest on the rooftops. Students milled around, laughing, calling to each other, but Jaeyi just stood still, eyes on the doors.

Kyeong and Yeri showed up first.

“You waiting for Seulgi?” Yeri asked, adjusting her backpack.

“Yeah… she asked me to stay.”

“She got called to the principal’s office,” Kyeong nodded, glancing over her shoulder. “About twenty minutes ago. Weird. She looked kinda… off.”

Something twisted in Jaeyi’s chest. She stayed. Another ten minutes. Another fifteen. The wind was colder now, tingling against her fingers.

And then—Seulgi.

She was walking fast, shoulders tight, hair a little messy. Her face looked hollow—blank, burned out. Eyes downcast, her steps almost aimless.

“Hey,” Jaeyi said gently, stepping closer. “Are you okay? What happened? Why did you—”

“Huh?” Seulgi blinked, like she’d just remembered where she was. “Oh, right… I… was gonna say something. I think.”

She paused for a second, then snorted softly and muttered, not meeting her eyes:

“Guess I’m like Dory again. Honestly forgot why I even asked you to wait.”

She smiled, barely. The kind that doesn’t come from inside, but from behind a mask.

“I’m fine. Really.”

Jaeyi squinted, trying to read her, but Seulgi had already turned toward the street.

“Come on. I’ll walk you.”

They walked in silence. The breeze was cool—end-of-day quiet—and petals from fading trees skittered across the pavement. Jaeyi asked a few light questions—about classes, the weekend, the whole pizza incident with Yeri—but Seulgi’s replies were thin, scattered, like lines from a different conversation:

“Yeah.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll tell you later.”

It was like Seulgi wasn’t really there—just a shell, walking beside her.

When they reached Jaeyi’s house, she stopped and turned, but Seulgi didn’t lift her head. She was staring at her sneakers, like they might tell her what to say.

Then she whispered—soft, almost tender:
“Thanks for waiting. Sorry it was for nothing. Good night.”

And left—quickly, without looking back.

Jaeyi stayed there, rooted to the spot, feeling like someone had handed her a letter… with half the words erased.

---

And after that…

Seulgi didn’t answer any messages.

Not the “Are you okay?”
Not the picture of a penguin.
Not Yeri’s voice memo: “Hey. You alive?”

The next day—Seulgi didn’t show up to school.

And her desk stayed empty.

But the silence that hung in the air— was louder than any school bell.

Chapter Text

Seulgi didn’t get up.

She just lay there, wrapped in silence and weakness, as if she had become part of the bed itself. The blanket didn’t feel like comfort—it felt like earth at the bottom of a grave. Heavy. Warm. Smothering. The pillow still held the scent of sleep, but not  real sleep—not the kind that brings peace. This sleep was more like fading away, like dissolving, like waiting for an end that never got a date.

The room was quiet and stale. The air was thick, as if it had been breathed in by a hundred anxious thoughts. Heat and cold came and went like tides. One moment her body burned with fever, like embers had been lit inside her—in her chest, in her cheeks, in her temples, in her fingertips.
Then, half an hour later, that heat would drain into a freezing void—numb fingers, goosebumps, teeth chattering like spoons in a porcelain cup.

It wasn’t an illness.

Not the flu.

It was a state.

A kind of stress that had grown roots so deep it began to tell the body to fall apart.
Her sympathetic nervous system was running on empty, as if there was a war happening inside her that no one could see.
The hypothalamus—the body’s conductor, meant to keep everything in rhythm—had lost the beat. Now it played like a broken choir in an empty hall: off-key, dissonant, wrong.

Seulgi hardly opened her eyes anymore. Why would she? The world outside her eyelids was too bright. Too loud.

And here...

Here, it was just her. And her thoughts. And her pain. The kind that lived in her chest like a shard of glass—unseen, but stabbing with every breath.

She wasn’t eating. Food felt like a foreign language. She’d look at the trays Mina brought—hot soup, a neat cup of tea—and feel nothing but nausea rising to her throat. It felt like swallowing anything would mean betraying her pain. And pain was the only thing she still had. The word “appetite” felt like mockery. Food didn’t belong in a world where every morning felt like falling off a roof.

Her head buzzed with thoughts, but she couldn’t catch a single one. They were wasps—loud, stinging, everywhere.

Sometimes she felt like she was dying. Slowly. Not from sickness, but from something breaking apart inside her. From memories. From Jaeyi’s face that kept appearing—in the dark, on the ceiling, in the hum of blood in her ears.

Jaeyi.

Her name didn’t just echo in Seulgi’s mind.
It burned in the air.

It trembled in every pause between breaths, whispered itself inside her, like a prayer. Like a scream she couldn’t let out.

That name was a fracture. And ice was breaking beneath it.

How many ways can you miss someone?
Seulgi knew them all. Each one with the taste of salt on her lips. Each one like a thin needle under the skin.

She missed her voice—soft, like the first drop of summer rain on her forehead.
Her eyes—slightly tilted, attentive, warm... like Jaeyi always saw something in Seulgi that Seulgi herself couldn’t.

She missed her hands—not perfect, not fragile, but familiar to the point of trembling. Her touch—brief, accidental, almost friendly… But in those moments, the world would go quiet. Time would freeze for just one heartbeat.

And if she could crawl into that memory and live there—stay in that small, silent forever—Seulgi would do it without a second thought.

But instead—there was only pain.

She remembered those bruises on Jaeyi’s skin—those shadows that tried to hide under a collar. How Jaeyi had flinched, pulled away… As if a gentle touch had brought fear, not warmth. How her lips trembled when she whispered, *“Please… don’t.”* How she turned her face too fast. How she said, *“I’m fine.”*

It wasn’t true. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a fall. It was something more. Something worse.

And Seulgi knew. She knew.  In her gut. In her skin. In her heartbeat.

And she hated herself for not stopping her.
For not saying, *“You’re not fine.”*
For not asking, not pressing, not staying.
For *leaving*, when Jaeyi might have been standing on the edge.

Now everything was torn. Now there was only silence between them. Thick. Heavy. Like rain at 4 a.m. Like someone had cut a song in the middle of the chorus. And all that remained was the echo.

And Seulgi...

She missed her like someone misses their own reflection when they don’t recognize themselves anymore.

---

The phone was silent.

It didn’t ring. Didn’t call. But it vibrated—like a heart still beating somewhere deep inside her. Somewhere under the pillow, in the soft, dim dark, unread messages piled up. From Yeri. From Kyeong. From Jaeyi herself.

They lived there, like tiny campfires in the night, and Seulgi didn’t have the strength to light a single one. She was afraid of the light. Afraid of words.

Every time the screen buzzed faintly, something inside her dropped. The air thickened. Her chest sank—like something had tied her to the bottom.

Then came the spiral:

**Panic. Shame. Guilt.**

Three poisons. She drank them in rotation, like punishment.

*I’m a failure. I’m a coward.* That chant repeated, again and again. Never stopping.

It didn’t scream. It whispered. Buzzed under her skin, gnawed her ribs from the inside, corroded her soul.

This wasn’t just sadness. It was an entire belief system. A closed loop.
That’s what depression sounds like: not weepy, but almost scientific.
Cold. Logical. Undeniable.

Seulgi no longer had the strength to argue with that voice. She barely had strength at all.

Her body felt warm—almost hot—but not with comfort.
Her temperature flared like a wild animal.
Sometimes it felt like her skin was melting.
Other times, a cold wave would crash through her, and her teeth would chatter.

The blanket didn’t help.
Nothing did.

The door creaked softly.

Seulgi didn’t turn her head.
Only her eyelashes fluttered.

“Seulgi?”

It was Mina. Gentle, always.

Careful, like someone afraid to hurt someone already broken.

A tray shook in her hands—soup, a cup of tea, steam rising like a fragile cloud of comfort.

“I… brought you something to eat,” she said quietly. Almost a whisper. “You need to eat. Just a little.”

But every word felt like sandpaper to Seulgi’s nerves.

She curled tighter, turned to the wall, pressing into the pillow like a child with nowhere to hide.

“I can’t…” her voice cracked, dry and thin. “I… feel sick.”

Not from the food.

From everything. From herself. From the world. From the same thoughts on endless repeat:

*You’re broken. You break the people you love.*

Mina set the tray down gently. She didn’t push. Didn’t insist. She just sat at the edge of the bed—softly, like she was afraid to disturb the water Seulgi was drowning in.

She looked at her. Not with pity. Not frustration. With quiet, real worry—the kind that asks for nothing in return.

Finally, Seulgi looked up.

And for the first time in what felt like forever—she met someone’s eyes. And in those eyes, there was too much kindness. Too much light for so much darkness.

Mina leaned in. Touched her forehead with the back of her hand—lightly. Almost like a blessing.

“You’re burning up…” she whispered.
“You’re going to burn yourself away…”
She sighed.
“I’m worried about you, Seulgi.”

And that “worried”—was louder than any scream.

Because being needed when you feel the most useless—is the most terrifying and precious thing in the world.

Seulgi choked on tears that wouldn’t fall.

They didn’t come out—and that made the pain sharper. Silent. Crushing. Splitting.

Her lips trembled. Her chin quivered.
But her eyes stayed dry. Like everything that should’ve poured out had frozen insid —heavy, salty, like an ocean sealed inside her chest.

And deep down, something howled. Wild. Wordless. On snapped strings:

*I don’t deserve this worry. Why do you care? I hate myself for leaving. For being weak. For doing nothing. But it was to keep them safe, right? Right?*

The silence rang in the room like glass about to shatter.

Mina sat beside her, saying nothing. She knew—it was all too fragile now. Everything hanging by a thread.

She didn’t touch Seulgi again.
She just stayed.

And time passed—not minutes. But an entire lifetime folded into a breath.

---

Then Mina spoke—slowly, carefully:

"Someone’s here for you."

Seulgi didn’t understand at first. She heard the words, but her brain didn’t tie them to reality.

It was like surfacing from underwater.

Her head turned with effort, slowly, as if gravity belonged to another planet.

“…Who?” Her voice was barely audible, raspy. Like a wound that had learned how to speak.

Mina exhaled before replying.

“Yeri. Kyeong. And…”

A pause.

And then—like a slap. No, like a punch straight to the gut, to the solar plexus:

“…Jaeyi.”

The name flared—like pain.
*Jaeyi. Here. At the doorstep. In this same air.*
So close, Seulgi could almost touch her. Hear her breathe. Maybe see if she’d forgive her—for leaving. Or if she needed answers. Or just wanted to look at her.

But Seulgi—

*She can’t. Not like this. Not right now. Not with this fever in her head. Not with this bitterness in her chest. Not with this lump in her throat. Not with this guilt under her skin.*

Mina continued quietly:

“She asked… if you could talk. Said she’ll wait if you need time.”

Seulgi squeezed her eyes shut. The tears came—warm now, heavy. As if a dam had finally burst. And inside, everything clenched. Her soul folded in on itself, her heart reduced to a whisper.

*I miss you…*

*I miss her every damn second, every night. I want to touch her, to hear that she isn’t broken because of me. That she’s breathing. That she’s okay. But I can’t…*

Seulgi’s world felt like it was behind glass. Like she was trapped at the bottom of an aquarium, where everything sounded muffled and distant. She missed her voice. Her warmth. If she could just hear “I’m here”—it would be enough not to drown.

She let out a sob, for the first time out loud.

“…Don’t let anyone in,” she whispered. Her voice trembled like shattered glass in someone’s hand. “Please. Not now…”

Mina nodded. Her eyes glistened slightly—she understood. Without words. Without blame. Just… understood.

“All right. I’ll tell them you’re asleep.”

Seulgi didn’t answer. She only gave the smallest nod—then curled into the pillow, as if it could shield her from the world.

Mina left. The door clicked softly shut behind her.

And then Seulgi broke down.

For real.

Choking, gasping, sobbing like a child who’d lost her home. Like an adult who’d lost herself. Like she might drown in her own tears.

Her shoulders shook. The pillow soaked. Her voice dissolved into the tight, heavy air of the room. It wasn’t just crying—it was something inside her screaming: *I can’t do this anymore. Somebody help me. Or make it all just… disappear.*

The tears didn’t stop until her face went numb. Until she was too drained to sob. Until the storm faded… into silence.

When it was over, she lay there, emptied to the core. Not hollow—burned out. And in that scorched stillness, something finally let go. Something allowed her eyes to close. Allowed her to vanish for a while.

And the silence she fell into—it wasn’t death. It was release. As if even the pain had grown too tired to stay.

---

**A day after Seulgi disappeared**

It didn’t all collapse at once. First, a few unanswered messages. Then, “read” with no reply. Then—nothing.

A day has already passed. Seulgi was silent. As if she’d simply been… erased.

Yeri messaged her every day.
Kyeong called a few times, but never made it past the dial tone—it sounded like a sentence being passed.

And Jaeyi…

Jaeyi carried her phone everywhere. Caught every buzz. But it was never her. Never Seulgi.

“Kyeong,” Yeri whispered in the school locker room, hunched over like the cold had gotten into her bones. “Please… tell me something. You saw her that yesterday, right?”

Kyeong shook her head silently.

Yeri exhaled hard, wiping at her tears with a shaky hand. “What if… something happened? We don’t even know. She could be in danger. Or… I don’t know. What if she just doesn’t want to see us anymore?”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Jaeyi whispered. And both of them fell silent.

---

Two more days later, they were standing outside Seulgi’s house. The three of them. Soaked from the drizzle, staring at the dark windows, hoping one might flicker on.

Mina—her stepmother—opened the door. Her face was tired. Hollow. Haunted by some deep, unspeakable worry.

“She barely gets out of bed,” she said, carefully. Like every word might tip the girls into panic. “Sleeps… if you can call it sleep. Barely eats. The fever’s up and down. She hardly talks. Today she only said: ‘Don’t let anyone in.’”

Yeri turned away so they wouldn’t see her cry. Kyeong dropped her gaze.

And Jaeyi… just stood there. Motionless. Silent.

“Can we… maybe just…” Yeri began, but Mina shook her head.

“She hears everything. I told her you came. She… doesn’t want to. I’m sorry.”

---

They sat on the playground behind the building as dusk settled in. Yeri picked at the edge of her sleeve. Kyeong stared at the ground.
And Jaeyi… kept her eyes on the third window from the left. The one with the white curtains. Seulgi was in there.

“I think this is my fault,” Jaeyi said suddenly. Her voice was raw. “That day… she got called to the principal. She came to see me afterward. She didn’t say much. Felt distant. I should’ve pressed her. I shouldn’t have let it go like that.”

“It’s not your fault,” Kyeong whispered, but Jaeyi didn’t hear her.

“She already felt far away, even then,” she went on. “I thought it would pass. But now…” Her voice cracked.

“Now I just want to scream. I’m scared. I… I don’t know how to help her. And it’s killing me.”

Yeri couldn’t hold it anymore.

“None of us know. But just because she won’t let us in… doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel us. Doesn’t hear us. She’s hurting. So much, love alone isn’t enough to save her.”

Kyeong reached for Jaeyi’s hand and gave it a firm squeeze.

“You can still be there. Even through a wall. Through a closed door. Through silence. Just… don’t leave.”

Jaeyi pressed her lips together. She didn’t cry. Her eyes looked like they’d forgotten how.

“I’d give anything. Just to hear her voice again. Even if she yelled at me. Even if she said she hated me.”

She closed her eyes.

“Anything. Just not this silence.”

The quiet thickened like smoke. Heavy. Unspoken words hanging like iron.

After a while, Jaeyi stood up. Without looking back.

“I’m going to her. One more time.”

---

Mina opened the door again. No surprise in her face. Just a quiet gaze.

“I won’t bother her,” Jaeyi said, voice trembling. “Please… just let me in. I need to know she’s alive. That she’s… still here.”

Mina gave a small nod and stepped aside, saying nothing.

---

The room was dim, silent. It smelled of pain—of midnight tears, damp blankets, spilled broth. The air was still, like no one had breathed for hours.

Seulgi lay on her side, face buried in a pillow. Her hair was tangled and damp, like after a fever. Her skin smelled of cold swea —old, stagnant. Her face was flushed and weary, like after a storm, but no longer burning. Fingers clenched. Shoulders tight, as if even in sleep, she was bracing herself.

Jaeyi’s knees nearly gave out. She tiptoed closer, then knelt beside the bed. Breath catching.

Seulgi looked… shattered. And so fragile.

Jaeyi’s hand trembled as she brushed hair off her forehead. The strands clung to her skin. Beneath them—tear streaks, dried but clear. Her eyes were slightly open, red, swollen.

She made faint sounds—soft, like a child after crying herself to sleep. It wasn’t rest. It was surrender. Like her body had given up.

Jaeyi stroked her hair, slow and gentle.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry I didn’t know. Didn’t see it. Didn’t stop it. That I let you walk into that darkness alone… What happened to you..?”

Her lips quivered. Her chest tightened. She wanted to scream. To hug her. To shake her awake. But she just sat there. Silent.

Watching.

Seeing her Seulgi—not bold, not defiant, not strong—but tired. Raw. Broken.

Jaeyi gently pulled the blanket up, covering Seulgi’s shoulders with care, like she might burn herself on someone else’s pain. Then she sat at the edge of the bed, held her breath, and ran her hand through her hair again. So many days without that touch—and now it felt unfamiliar, but she couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry…” she breathed, barely a whisper. “For everything.”

There was no hope in her voice. Only a crushed sound, frayed and hoarse. She didn’t expect to be heard. Didn’t believe she deserved forgiveness. But still—she said it.

Her fingers found Seulgi’s hand—cold, limp, unmoving. She held it carefully, like a shard of glass. Anything more and they’d both bleed.

Seulgi didn’t stir. Didn’t flinch. Even her breathing stayed unchanged. Still asleep. Or hiding in sleep—far from everything. Even her.

And Jaeyi leaned closer. Cautious. Reverent.
She pressed her lips to her forehead—cold and damp from the fever. A kiss, quiet and uncertain, like a goodbye.

She stayed there for a second. Just to remember this warmth, even if it wasn’t hers. Just in case Seulgi never came back—so she’d have this one moment.

Then she whispered:

“I’d give anything. Just to see you smile again.”

She squeezed her hand once more, then slowly stood up. Left without looking back.

Because if she had turned around—

She would’ve stayed forever.

---

She sank to the floor, right by the door, as if sitting closer could somehow make the pain stop. Drew her knees to her chest. Pressed her face into her hands.

No words. Just the pounding ache of despair in her chest. *What’s wrong with you?.. Why won’t you speak?.. How did we end up here?.. Why were you crying?*

The thought whispered like a spell. Over and over, bouncing around her skull.

*Why so long, so bitter, that your eyes were swollen? What could’ve done that to you? Who? Me?..*

Jaeyi couldn’t unsee the marks. Those shimmering trails dried on Seulgi’s cheeks, like rivers of pain she hadn’t told anyone about. Her lips, still slightly parted from the sobs. Heavy, red eyelids.

*You were alone, weren’t you?.. When you cried. Alone in that room, alone in that hell — and I…*

Jaeyi’s knees were drawn in tight. Hands over her face. And inside — a silence louder than anything she could’ve said.

*What did I do wrong?.. When did everything start falling apart?.. Why didn’t I notice how far you were slipping?..*

A deep inhale. A ragged exhale.

*You always said you hated loneliness. That it eats you from the inside. I listened, but I didn’t hear you. And now — now I feel it myself. This… is hell. The real kind.*

There were no tears — just the burning of her face, like her skin had been scalded. Her eyes stung. Her thoughts tore her apart.

*I would’ve taken any anger from you. Any “get away from me.” Any “leave.” But you chose silence. The worst thing. It cuts like a knife under the ribs. It echoes even when it’s quiet. It speaks for you, and says the most terrible things.*

She lowered her head onto her knees. Wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could hold herself together. She was shaking.

*I don’t know where you are. Not physically — I saw you, you were lying there, breathing… But where are *you*, Seulgi? The one who laughs, who flirts, who eats ice cream in the middle of winter, who chases trouble like it’s dust on her boots?..*

Her temples pounded, like her heart was trying to beat through her skull.

*If I could take your pain — I’d take it all. Every drop. Just so you could come back.*

Her chest tightened, as if there wasn’t enough air in the room.

*You’re so strong… and that’s why I didn’t see you falling. And strong people… they fall the quietest.*

Silence. Only breath. And the creaking of her thoughts inside.

*Come back. Just with a glance. Just with a word. Please. I’m not asking for happiness. I’m not asking for forgiveness. I just want to know that you’re still there. That you’re still *you*.

She pressed her forehead to her knees. Squeezed her eyes shut.

*I love you. And maybe that’s the most helpless I’ve ever felt.*

---

Seulgi didn’t wake up from sleep — she woke up from silence.

The kind of silence that comes after crying. Not sharp. Not ringing. Just… tired. Like even the air had sighed with her.

Her dream was… nothing. No color, no shape. Just a black veil stretched over her body. No thoughts. No nightmares. And in that emptiness — a strange kind of comfort. Like someone had turned her off for a while, so she wouldn’t destroy herself completely.

Light slipped through the curtains, soft, dusty. The room smelled of medicine, damp fabric… and something else.

Seulgi lay still. Eyes open, though she didn’t realize it at first — like she’d become part of the wall. Her body ached with exhaustion, but her heart — for the first time in three days — beat not in panic, but just… alive. Uneven, but alive. Somehow lighter. Not healed.

But awake enough to notice again.

She breathed in slowly. And… froze.

A scent.

Something faint. Elusive. Not hers — but achingly familiar.

“No…” she whispered, almost not believing herself.

She inhaled again — gently, afraid to break the spell. A floral note. A bit of coolness. A hint of citrus — those same perfumes that used to cling to Jaeyi’s collar after a hug that lingered a second too long. The ones that stayed on her scarf, the time Seulgi secretly wore it all day under her coat. She knew that scent. Like a scar on her skin.

But she…

“She didn’t come in. I… I told them not to let her…”

And yet — it was here. It was here.

Her pulse kicked in her chest. A strange storm — panic and relief. Shame and longing. What was this? A trick? A leftover dream? Or…

Had she come?

Seulgi pushed herself up on one elbow, barely. Her body felt foreign — soft and heavy, like after a long fever. A faint sweat mark on the sheet. A damp pillow. Tangled hair. But none of it mattered — if Jaeyi had been here.

“Why did you…” she started to say to the empty air — then stopped herself.

If Jaeyi had come, if she stepped into the room, then maybe… she still wanted to be close? Or was it goodbye? Just checking if Seulgi was alive — nothing more?

Pain coiled inside her — not physical, this time.

It was the not knowing.

Too many things left unsaid. Too much meaning in silence. In the way she ran.

She turned to the wall. Her cheek met the cold fold of the sheets.

*Why did I run… why did I let fear destroy everything?*

*Why is it that when I love, I only seem to hurt?*

And then — a thought. Thin but sharp. Born deep in her gut.

*You were afraid. Not for yourself. For her.

And immediately — a flash of memory. His voice. Cold. Even. Like he wasn’t speaking to a girl, but to something that needed to be erased:

> *“You think you can stay close to her? Just make sure you won’t regret it. You, your friends — none of you will be safe if you don’t back off. You’re holding her back. You’re a disgrace. I’ll remove you. Cleanly. Without a trace. Got it?”*

That’s when she folded in on herself. Left. Went silent. Hid under blankets like fabric could keep out the truth.

But now… now she smelled Jaeyi.

She’d been here. And maybe — maybe she still was.

And if Seulgi meant anything to her — even a little, even by a single touch — then she had no right to just lie here.

No right to be afraid without proof.

She had to know.

What he *did to her*.

What he *will do*.

What he *already did*.

She clenched the sheet in her fist.

“I’ll find out,” she whispered. Not aloud. In her soul.

---

That day, Seulgi stood up. Not completely. Not like a hero. But for the first time — not to run, but to understand.

And that was the beginning.

---

Seulgi’s phone lay beside her, screen dimly glowing — just enough to light the thin skin of her fingers.

She sat propped up on a pillow, one leg tucked beneath her, the other slipped off the bed. The pose looked unintentional, uncomfortable — like someone who only meant to sit for a moment but forgot to move again.

Her head was heavy, as if someone had chained it to her shoulders. Her eyes burned from exhaustion. But it wasn’t sickness anymore. It was thought.

Thoughts buzzed in her skull like a hornet’s nest. Jaeyi’s father’s words still echoed beneath her skin, like the aftertaste of being hit.

*“If you really care about her… you should disappear from her life. Otherwise the consequences might be… just as irreversible as they were with Jena.”*

The name flared through her mind like a red-hot needle.

Jena.

She’d never really heard anything concrete. Just fragments. Whispers in the halls.

“Her sister, I think.”
“Ran away from school.”
“No one’s seen her in four years.”
“Dead?”
“No, just in some psych ward.”

Rumors. Each one more absurd than the last. And still — something about them stuck. *As if Jena wasn’t just a girl who disappeared.* As if she were a warning. Or… a key.

---

Seulgi stares at the screen. Her fingers tremble slightly — not from fear, but from exhaustion. From not having spoken to anyone in a long time. From the feeling that this—whatever this is—is somehow forbidden. Like she’s not supposed to touch it.

Still, she types.

Slowly. Carefully. Almost in a whisper.

> **Seulgi → Kyeong:**
*"Who is Jena?"*

Her finger hovers over the send button. One second. Then another. Still—she sends it.

The message scrolls up and vanishes. Seulgi leans back. And in that moment, real fear hits her. Fear of the unknown. What if Kyeong doesn’t want to answer?

She shuts her eyes.
But in her ears, she can still hear:

*“…just like Jena.”*

---

Three cups on the table. Yeri is laughing—saying something about their chemistry teacher, trying to lighten the mood, to steer thoughts away from Seulgi.
Jaeyi stays quiet, distant, leaning back in her chair, eyes lost in the windows.
Kyeong is on her phone—but this time, her gaze stops.

A message.
From Seulgi.

> **"Who is Jena?"**

Kyeong’s eyes freeze. She doesn’t move. Only her pupils twitch.

*Why is she asking about that? Who told her?*

Yeri reaches for Kyeong’s phone:
— “Reading the news again, counselor?”

Kyeong instantly locks the screen, smiling softly but tensely: — “Just boring texts. You wouldn’t like them. No memes.”

Yeri rolls her eyes and goes back to her pastry. Jaeyi remains silent.

Then Kyeong replies.

> **Kyeong → Seulgi:**
> *"Why are you asking? Who told you that name?"*

There’s a pause. The answer doesn’t come right away.
But it does come.

> **Seulgi → Kyeong:**
> *"You don’t need to know how. Just tell me. Please. I can’t explain right now. But… it matters. A lot."*

Kyeong stares at the message for a long time. Then slowly types:

> **Kyeong → Seulgi:**
> *"Jaeyi’s sister. Older. They barely talked in recent years. Jena… was different. Didn’t fit the family’s mold. Too warm, too real. And then… she disappeared. No one knows how. I don’t either. I looked."*

> **Seulgi → Kyeong:**
> *"I think the answer is at the hospital. Where Taejoon works. I know it sounds strange. But I have to check. I can’t do it alone."*

> **Kyeong → Seulgi:**
> *"You want to go there? Seriously?"*

> **Seulgi → Kyeong:**
> *"Yes. But don’t tell anyone. Not Yeri. Not… especially not Jaeyi."*

Kyeong lifts her eyes from the screen slowly. Looks at Jaeyi. Then Yeri. They have no idea.

She feels a knot tighten in her gut. But she just types:

> **Kyeong → Seulgi:**
> *"Okay. Tomorrow. 5 PM. Back entrance. Just you and me."*
> *"And I’m still here, if you need me."*

Seulgi reads it.
In silence. For a long time.
Then sets her phone down and closes her eyes.

---

*Jena.*

She wasn’t just a shadow from the past.
She was something Jaeyi had buried deep—like a burn: don’t touch.

And her father…
He spoke of her like a warning.

*“If you don’t stop, you’ll disappear like Jena.”*

So it’s all connected.

What if Jena’s still alive?

What if… he did something to her?

I don’t care what happens to me.
But if he lays a hand on any of them...

*I have to know. I have to be stronger than fear. For her.*

*For Jaeyi.*

---

The Hospital "J" loomed like a tired giant, worn out by its own walls. It looked... too clean. Lifelessly tidy. Like a place where sterility didn’t cover care—but something deeper. Silence that hides truth. Or the dead.

Kyeong and Seulgi approached the side entrance. Officially: *“staff only.”* Unofficially: no cameras. As always, Kyeong had everything mapped out—guard rotations, floor layouts, blind spots. She’d even printed a fake keycard.

Despite the heat of anxiety burning in her chest, Seulgi felt a grim kind of gratitude for Kyeong’s cold efficiency. Without her, she wouldn’t last two minutes.

The corridors greeted them with the buzz of neon lights—*k-zzk-klick*—like the building was breathing through clenched teeth. Silence hung heavy. No voices. No footsteps. Just the distant hum of vents and the drip of a broken tap somewhere deep inside.

Seulgi walked slightly behind, shoulders hunched like bracing against wind—though there was none.

“Still on plan,” Kyeong whispered, glancing back. — “Taejoon’s office is in the west wing. Third floor. If anyone sees us, it’ll be cameras downstairs—but not yet.”

“Okay,” Seulgi murmured. Her voice slipped from her lips like it didn’t belong to her. She wasn’t here. She was deeper—in her thoughts. In a swamp where there was no up or bottom.

The staircase climb was wordless. Like a funeral march.

---

At the door, Seulgi was surprised to find her palms shaking. It pissed her off. She didn’t want to be afraid. Not now—not when she’d come this far.

But fear still crept beneath her skin.
Like a shadow brushing her shoulder, always one step behind.

Kyeong pulled out a lockpick and slid it into the door.

“Five seconds,” she whispered.

Click. The door gave way.

The office was… too quiet.

Not a speck of dust. Not a single thing out of place. Like no one had ever worked here. Or someone had—and was good at erasing even their air.

Seulgi went to the window first—shut.
Blinds drawn tight. She touched the glass for a second. It was cold. Like ice.

Kyeong was already flipping through the cabinet. Quick. Careful. Mechanical.

Files marked “personnel,” “medical records,” “legal documents.” All present. All… *too* present. Like someone knew they were coming—and removedeverything else.

“It’s clean,” Kyeong muttered, crawling out from under the desk. “No trace. Not a single mention of Jena. Not even listed as staff. And I *know* she worked here as a janitor.”

“Why are you even talking about her again—after everything?”

Seulgi sank slowly into Taejoon’s chair.
Looked at her hands like they might explain.

“Because it’s all too weird,” she finally said.
“Because a missing girl’s name has become a threat. And a name should be… a memory. Or love. Not fear.”

Kyeong narrowed her eyes.

“That’s nice. Poetic, even. But I know you. Something happened. What aren’t you telling me?”

Seulgi looked at her. Her eyes were tired, dim—but somewhere deep: stubborn silence.

“Nothing you could fix.”

“Try me.”

“Not now.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“I do. I just… if I say it out loud, everything breaks.”

Kyeong didn’t respond. She flipped through more files—rougher, sharper.

“We came here to dig into someone else’s past. *Her* family. And you won’t even say why. That’s messed up.”

Seulgi sighed. Low. Then, after a moment, she opened a drawer with a lock.

The lock… was broken. Like someone had tried to get in before them. Or had rushed to take something out.

“It’s useless,” Seulgi said. Her voice worn, but angry. “He cleaned it all up.”

“Or it’s hidden somewhere else.”

“Then why are we—”

Kyeong froze.

“Wait.”

She turned the desk lamp. Its base creaked, sliding out of a groove—revealing a thin sheet of paper taped underneath.

Glued pages.
Between them—a key.

“No way…”

"Under the rug,” Seulgi whispered. “Old trick. Hide it where no one looks. If you’re sure everyone’s looking for something complicated.”

Kyeong darted to the carpet’s edge, peeled it back.

A hatch.
Sealed, built flush with the floor.
No markings. No labels.
Just a faint scratch on the metal.

The key fit.

The lid opened with a low groan—like the hospital itself was protesting.

Inside — A metal box. Dusty. Hidden, not disguised.

Seulgi pulled it out.
Inside—folders. Papers. No labels.
Kyeong flipped through them.

“These aren’t personnel files. These are dossiers. On people. Students. Doctors. Look — records of mental conditions, diagnoses, personal contacts. Illegal notes.”

Seulgi tore through the pages until she found it.

A name.
Next to a photo.

**Yoo Jena.**

Gray eyes. Just like Jaeyi’s. Only softer. More alive.

Below the photo—reports. Behavioral notes, tendencies, complaints, suspicions of psychotic episodes. Doctor’s entries—likely forged. But signed and dated.

The last one—three days before she disappeared.

“There’s an address,” Kyeong whispered. “But it’s old. Fake. Still… the date—Jena was here the night she vanished.”

“Who signed it?”

Kyeong looked. Their eyes met.

“Yoo Taejoon.”

The silence changed.
It turned heavy.

And then—
From the hallway.
A creak.

Like footsteps sliding on tile.

They froze. Seulgi’s heartbeat slammed against her throat.

“Quick,” Kyeong whispered. “Hide the files. Take the flash drive. We’re leaving. And—Seulgi, you will tell me everything. Got it?”

Seulgi stared at her.

Long and steady.

Then nodded. Quietly.

Just as something creaked again in the depth of the hospital—Like a warning.

But when they peeked out into the hallway—It was empty.

And they vanished into the dark.

---

The corridor was empty. Silent. Only the echo of their footsteps filled the space, as if the hospital itself were watching, listening—remembering.

Kyeong walked ahead—flash drive in hand, copies of documents in her pocket. Seulgi lagged slightly behind, as if the air had thickened. Every movement felt like wading through water.

Then she stopped.

A few steps ahead—Jaeyi.

She stood there like she had just happened to be passing by. A folder in her hand. Her face—surprised. Not angry. Not cold. Just surprised.

But Seulgi no longer saw her clearly.

Because behind Jaeyi—cut from air, from shadow—he stood.

Yoo Taejoon.

And time snapped backward.

---

** Flashback **

*"Wait for me after class! I want to tell you something!"*

Seulgi was smiling, almost skipping. Her heart thudded in her chest like it was alive. She watched Jaeyi—her silhouette, her stride, her fingers clutching her backpack strap.

She wanted to say it. Everything. That Jaeyi had become something more than a "friend." That Jaeyi felt like home.

But then—
*"Seulgi, the principal wants to see you,"* the math teacher said, poking his head out of the classroom.

And instantly something twisted in her gut. Cold. Like a premonition had crawled beneath her skin.

---

She entered. The office was empty. Almost.

The principal was gone. But he—Yoo Taejoon—was already there, standing by the window like he belonged. Like he was the one in charge.

Seulgi froze at the door. Didn’t move.

"You do realize," he began, not turning around, "that your little game has gone too far?"

His tone was flat. Emotionless. No anger—somehow worse.

"I... I don’t understand what you’re—"

"Jaeyi. My daughter. You—a nameless, rootless orphan—have corrupted what I spent years perfecting. You’ve fed her thoughts. Emotions. Desires she should never have had. You disrupted a system I built with care."

He turned. His eyes were lifeless, like glass. But the cold in them was alive. Deadly.

"She started skipping class. Arguing. Falling silent when she shouldn’t. You cracked what was flawless.
*My perfect doll*—damaged, because you decided to play with feelings."

Seulgi’s breath came slower, like the world was tightening around her throat.

"You don’t want anything... irreversible happening to the people you care about, do you?"

He stepped closer.

"Mina. Yeri. Kyeong. And of course—Jaeyi herself. Would you like her to vanish, like Jenna?" He blurted out casually, keeping an emotionless face, as if he hadn't just given away some kind of "secret"

The name hit like a blade. There was something familiar about it.

Seulgi froze. He was staring straight at her. Into her.

"You have twenty-four hours. Make her stop looking at you like that. Needing you. Break her hope—while you still can."

"But..." she whispered, almost crying. "I don’t want to—"

He wasn’t listening. He’d already turned away.

"You have one day. If you don’t do it, I will. But it will hurt. Her. You. She might not live to regret it."

---

Seulgi walked out. She couldn’t feel her body. Everything inside was noise. Like a thousand heartbeats—and not one was real.

She turned the corner. Didn’t go to Jaeyi. Sat down by the wall. Hugged her knees.

Her heart beat strangely.

Arrhythmically. Like a stutter, then—*a hard stop*. Like sinus bradycardia. Her chest sank. Ribs squeezed inward.

"Don’t cry," she whispered into her knees. "Don’t cry. It hurts her. Don’t you dare."

*I’m sorry, Jaeyi... I can’t be the one who hurts you.*

A thought released into the universe. Maybe neural networks would carry it. *Maybe love could still find a way.*

Then—emptiness. Her consciousness blurred. No decisions, only one instinct: disappear.

When a teacher found her and asked:

"Are you alright?"

Seulgi barely managed:

"I just... need some air..."

She walked away.

And saw—Jaeyi was still waiting.

Staring at the door, the hallway... waiting.

Seulgi told herself:

This is how I protect her.
I destroy myself—so she survives.

**End of flashback**

---

And now—the corridor. The hospital. Jaeyi stands beneath the lamp’s cold glow. Behind her—Taejoon.

Seulgi takes a step back. Then another.

And walks away. Silent. Fast. Just like before.

Jaeyi turns—but he’s already gone.

Only that look remains—the same one. Full of fear. Not for herself—for her.

---

* Later that same night *

Jaeyi lay in her room. The ceiling—blank. But her thoughts—far from it.

*Seulgi… why did you look at me like I was a target?*

Something burned inside. As if that gaze had scorched her—left a mark that would never fade.

She replayed every moment. Seulgi stepping back. Her eyes—like a trapped animal’s.

*This isn’t just stress. It’s something else. Something I’m not being told.*

And then, at dawn, she made a decision.

---

"Excuse me..." Jaeyi said, standing in the doorway of the principal’s office. "Why did you call Seulgi in last week?"

The principal looked up from his papers.

"Me?.. I didn’t call her."

Pause. Jaeyi froze.

"But… the teacher said you—"

"Strange. Must’ve been a misunderstanding. Or maybe..." he hesitated, stumbling over the words. "Taejoon-nim was in that day. Maybe he needed to speak with her."

Jaeyi straightened. Something in her gaze tightened—like a fist.

"Thank you."

She walked out. And inside her, something began to crack—the shell of what she once believed in.

---

The corridor felt endless—too bright, too white. Jaeyi walked quickly, not looking around, the principal’s voice echoing in her head: *“I didn’t call Seulgi.”* Her feet moved on autopilot—until her eyes caught a familiar shape. And her body stiffened.

Him.

Taejoon stood slightly turned toward the chemistry teacher. His face calm. Like a man who controlled everything. He nodded, listening intently.

Then shook hands. And stayed alone.

Jaeyi felt something snap. Without thinking—before doubt could stop her—she moved.

"What did you say to her?!" Her voice rang out. Not a scream—but it cut like a whip.

Taejoon raised his eyebrows. That smile—the cold, revolting one—slid onto his face.

"Who? Oh, Seulgi?"

"Don’t play with me!" Her voice trembled, but didn’t break. "You were in the office. I *know*. You said something—and she vanished. You—"

He cut her off with a small shake of his head.

"You’re shockingly naive, Jaeyi. I protected you. From her. From those who tear down order."

"You’re lying!"

He stepped closer.

"She dragged you down. Made you weak. Damaged. You don’t even realize what you were becoming. Skipping class. Breaking down. Feelings. Feelings, Jaeyi? That’s not what you need. I won’t let you become another Jenna."

The name hit like a gunshot.

"You broke Jenna." Her voice was a whisper, eyes locked on his. "You turned her into a shadow. And now you want to do the same to me?"

He froze.

"You think I don’t know?" Her voice was quieter, but sharper. "You deleted her. Like a corrupted file. Like an error. But I’m *not* her."

Then—her hand went up.

The slap was sudden. The sound dull, like inside her own head. His ring left a jagged cut on her cheek, blood rising immediately.

Silence.

"I’ll fix you," he said, wiping his hand on his jacket. "While you’re still my daughter."

He turned and walked away. Never looked back.

---

Yeri had been standing by the corner. She’d heard the words echo down the hall—*“What did you say to Seulgi?!”*

She hadn’t made it in time.

When the slap landed, Yeri froze like a statue. Her heart slammed into her chest. Only once he was gone—his footsteps fading—did she run forward.

"Jaeyi..." her voice trembled.

Jaeyi looked at her. Her eyes like glass—holding everything: pain, fear, rage. But she whispered:

"Please... don’t tell anyone. Just... let it disappear."

Yeri nodded silently, but inside—her heart was breaking.

---

Seulgi wasn’t supposed to come back to school.

She knew that. School had long stopped being a safe place for her. But her feet carried her there anyway, like something was calling. Like a whisper inside her said: check. go. don’t wait.

And now she was here—inside a cold, empty hallway where the lights flickered with a tired hum, and everything felt too familiar.
As if she was that Seulgi again.
Only now—slightly broken. Quieter. Cautious.

She slowed down as she passed the nurse’s office. Listened. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"It’s fine. You don’t have to. Yeri, it’s okay."

A voice.

Jaeyi.

That name inside her felt like a spasm.
And the word “okay” hit her like a lie—spoken with a tremble on the tongue.

Seulgi stopped.

Her palms were slick with sweat. She took a step back.

*Leave.*

*Get out. Now.*

But she couldn’t.

She knew that voice. She knew its tone, its quiver, the strained “okay” that meant everything was not okay.

Like a zombie, she pushed the door open. The nurse’s office smelled of rubbing alcohol, sharp and sterile, as always.

There were two of them: Jaeyi sat on the exam bed, turned toward the wall. Her face was half-hidden, hair falling to one side. Her cheek was covered by her hand. Yeri stood nearby with a bottle and some cotton.

For one second—everything froze. The world stopped breathing.

Seulgi took a step forward.
Then another.

Her voice cracked out, hoarse:

"Who did this?"

She was speaking to Yeri. Only Yeri. That made it easier.

Yeri froze, like she didn’t know whether to speak or stay silent. Her eyes flicked to Jaeyi. Then dropped to the floor. She said nothing.

"Yeri", — Seulgi’s voice was sharp now, almost forceful. — "Who. Did. This?"

Yeri’s shoulders curled inward, as if she'd been accused of something herself.

And suddenly, Jaeyi’s voice sliced the air like glass:

"Enough."

Seulgi froze.

Jaeyi lifted her head. And in her eyes was something Seulgi had never seen before. Not just anger. Not even pain. Ruin.

"Stop, Seulgi. Stop pretending you care. You disappeared. For a week. You wouldn’t even look at me. And now you care? What are you now, some hero? Some savior? Where were you when I was scared out of my mind, when I didn’t understand why I didn’t exist to you anymore?"

Seulgi stepped back. As if struck.

She couldn’t answer. Her throat tightened.

"Was it him?.." — she whispered, barely audible. As if she herself was afraid to say his name.

Jaeyi flinched. Didn’t respond.

That was enough.

"Just tell me…" — Seulgi’s voice cracked. — "Was it him?"

Silence.

As if the world had ceased to exist. As if the windows were holding their breath before they shattered.

"Stay out of it," — Jaeyi hissed. Her voice shook with icy rage. — "This is none of your damn business, got it?"

Silence slammed shut like a cell door.
Yeri stood frozen, barely breathing.
Seulgi… said nothing.

But something broke inside her.
Something deep beneath her ribs.

And with that sound—something awakened.

Not fear. Not sorrow. A monster.

As if her veins filled with venomous heat, she turned and left—step by step, with trembling fingers and a heart that beat like it would tear itself apart.

---

The streets blurred. She didn’t remember leaving the building. Her head was boiling. Thoughts tangled. Every step felt like shattered glass.

*He hit her.*

*He threatened me. He broke Jena. Now he’s breaking Jaeyi.*

And then the thought lit up, like a match:

*I won’t let him.*

*I won’t let him.*

She didn’t look around. Didn’t hear the noise of the world. Only the rhythm inside:

*Protect. Destroy. Protect. Destroy.*

And then…

A voice. Too familiar. Slick like cold oil.

*There you are.*

*Taejoon.*

He stood there like nothing happened. By the school gate. Talking to someone. Smiling.

But when he saw her—The smile vanished.

Seulgi stopped. Tilted her head slightly.
Her heart—a hammer.

And then… she lunged forward.

Her body moved on its own.

"SEULGI, NO!" — someone shouted.
Too late.

Her fist slammed into his jaw with a force she didn’t know she had. A sickening crunch. Wet and raw. Taejoon stumbled back, hit the wall hard.

Someone screamed.

He clutched his face. Blood. She didn’t know—was it his nose? Jaw? Teeth? Maybe all of it.

Seulgi stood there, panting, eyes ablaze with something wild. She felt no pain. Only rage.

Her voice came low. Barely a whisper.

"That’s for Jaeyi, you piece of shit."

And she walked away.
Never looked back.

She didn’t know what came next. Only one thing—She wouldn’t stay silent anymore.

---

The face of an executioner.

Seulgi stopped for a second. Her vision darkened further.

"You think I’m just some orphan?" — she shouted, her voice rasping like metal on glass. — "You think you can crush me like a tin can?! That orphan—she’s going to be your end!"

He barely raised a brow. A small smirk, like a man who thinks he’s untouchable.

"I’m taking Jaeyi from you. You hear me?! I’ll pull her out. She’ll never live in your shadow again. I don’t care what happens to me. But for the others—for Yeri, for Kyeong, for Mina, for Jaeyi—I will strangle you with my bare hands!"

And she moved in on him again. Close. Too close. He didn’t move an inch.

But then:

"Seulgi, stop!" — Kyeong’s voice. Panic. She came rushing from the side like her life depended on it. — "Enough! You have to leave. Now! Not many people saw—there’s still a chance, no teachers yet… Please, Seulgi!"

Seulgi was panting like a hunted animal. Eyes burning. Kyeong grabbed her wrist, pulling her back as Taejun called after them:

"You’ll regret this, Woo Seulgi."

His voice was cold as grave dirt.

---

They reached the bleachers. Kyeong practically dragged her there. It smelled of dust and warm rust—old metal, sunlight, something familiar.

Seulgi sat down and buried her face in her hands.

"Are you insane?!" — Kyeong’s voice cracked. — "You hit him in front of students! Do you want to get expelled—or arrested?!"

"I don’t care." — Seulgi stared at the ground. Her lips trembled. — "He promised not to hurt her…"

"What?" — Kyeong froze. — "What are you talking about?.."

Seulgi looked up—and dropped her gaze again. Something twisted in her chest.

"Forget it. Forget I said anything."

"Are you serious right now?" — Kyeong was almost yelling. — "You disappeared, ghosted everyone, said nothing—and now it’s just “forget it”?! I can’t be in the dark anymore, Seulgi! If you don’t tell me, you’re betraying me. Do you get that?!"

"I didn’t betray you! I…" — Seulgi jumped to her feet, but Kyeong grabbed her arm.

"No. Don’t run again!"