Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Before Haegukgil. Before hope.

The sound of the ticking clock filled the soft, sunlit room.

Tick.
Tick.
Tick.

"I had a nightmare last night," Jiah said, her voice low but steady. "Same one again. I'm sitting at dinner with my family, but I'm invisible. No one looks at me. No one hears me. I scream, and they just keep eating. Like I'm not even there."

Her therapist—Dr. Seo—jotted something down, but gently. Like even her pen was scared to disturb the silence around Jiah.

"They do that a lot in real life, too," Jiah added, staring at her hands. "Pretend I'm not there. Unless I do something wrong. Then suddenly I exist... just enough to get punished."

There was a pause. Dr. Seo didn't rush her. She never did.

"I used to wish they'd love me the way they love my brother," Jiah admitted, softer now. "But I think I stopped wishing a long time ago. Jay is... different. He shines. He's everything they ever wanted. Me? I'm the crack in the glass."

More silence.

"I don't want to hate them," she whispered. "But I think I do."

Dr. Seo's voice was calm. Measured. "It's okay to say that out loud here."

Jiah's lips twitched—something between a laugh and a sob.

"I know. That's why I keep coming back."

She glanced out the window. The session was nearly over. A brief moment of peace—fleeting, but real.

"I just want to breathe," she said, more to herself than anyone. "For once."

But when she stepped out into the crisp afternoon air and pulled her hoodie tighter around her shoulders, her heart stopped.

Because he was there.

Her father.
Leaning against the sleek black car parked at the curb, suit pressed to perfection, arms crossed like a statue carved from ice.

Jiah froze.

He didn't say a word. Just opened the back door and nodded. Get in.

Something in her chest folded in on itself. Her feet moved before she could stop them.

The door shut behind her with a soft click, sealing her in like a coffin.

The car pulled away from the curb. Silence wrapped around her like a noose. Her father's cold presence seeped through the leather seats, heavy and suffocating.

Jiah stared out the window, her reflection barely visible in the glass.

She didn't ask where they were going.
She already knew.

The mansion loomed ahead like a kingdom built from frost and shadows. It had never felt like home.

As soon as she stepped inside, the tension exploded.

Her mother's voice cut through the marble halls like a whip.

"You selfish, ungrateful girl! A therapist?! Do you want to shame this family?!"

"Do you know what people would say if they found out?"

"You've humiliated your brother—do you want to ruin his life too?"

The yelling blurred into one long roar. Furniture shook. A vase shattered.

Then came the first slap.

And the second.

She didn't cry. She'd learned not to.

"Answer me!" her mother shrieked, shaking her hard by the shoulders.

"I just wanted help," Jiah said through clenched teeth.

Her father stepped forward, eyes cold. "We should've done this years ago."

Her stomach twisted. "Done what?"

"You're no longer a part of this family."

"You're being sent to Haegukgil. A place where you'll have nothing and learn what your actions cost."

Her breath hitched.

Just then—the front door slammed open.

"Stop!"

Jay's voice thundered through the house.

He ran into the living room, eyes wild with panic, and pulled Jiah away from their mother. He placed himself between her and the storm.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Jay, stay out of this," their father warned.

"You're hurting her!"

"She hurt herself."

"She needed help! And you're punishing her for it?!"

"She's being dealt with," their mother said icily. "This is not your concern."

"She's my sister," Jay growled. "It's always my concern."

His hands trembled. He looked at Jiah—really looked at her—and her mask cracked. Just a little.

He didn't ask her to explain. He just knew.

"I won't let you do this," he said, voice low. "If she goes, I go too."

A beat of silence.

Then their father's words, sharp as a blade: "Try it. And we'll ruin both of you."

Jay's jaw clenched. His fists shook. But he didn't speak again.

He wasn't giving up.

But he was outnumbered.

That night, Jiah packed in silence.

Jay stood beside her, slipping bundles of cash and a burner phone into the side pocket of her bag when no one was watching.

"Keep this. Don't answer calls from the house," he said quietly. "Block their numbers."

She looked at him, eyes glassy but dry. "Are you okay?"

"No," he admitted. "But I'll pretend if you will."

He zipped the bag shut, then pulled her into a hug so tight, it almost broke her ribs.

"Live free, Jiah. And if you ever need me—I'll drop everything."

She didn't cry.

Not until she stepped onto the train to Haegukgil, alone.
Not until the lights of Seoul disappeared behind her.

Not until she realized—

She was no longer anyone's daughter.

Just a girl
with no home
and no name
on the fourth floor of a town she'd never heard of.

Chapter Text

The train hummed beneath her, rhythmic and low like a heartbeat on the edge of breaking.

Jiah sat by the window, knees tucked under her chin, arms wrapped tightly around herself as if she could hold in everything that was threatening to burst.

Outside, the world blurred into streaks of gray and green. Seoul was long gone now, swallowed by distance and dusk. And in its place—unknown roads, unfamiliar skies, and a town whose name she barely knew how to pronounce.

Haegukgil.

Her new home.

Her punishment.

She let her forehead rest lightly against the cool glass, watching the condensation form from her breath. For a long time, she didn't think about anything.

But trauma always finds its cracks.

And soon, the thoughts began to crawl back in.

Flashback

The memory came in like a storm.

She was twelve. The tea cup had slipped from her hands—just a cup. It shattered against the kitchen tile, and the silence that followed was far louder than the crash.

Her mother stared at her with disgust.

"Do you know how much that cost?"

"You clumsy, useless girl—are you even part of this family?"

She tried to apologize, to clean it up, but then her mother slapped her so hard her ears rang for hours after. Her father didn't even look up from his newspaper.

Flashback

Fifteen.
Her midterm grades were good. Not perfect.

Jay had ranked first in the entire school. Again.

Jiah ranked fifth.

"Why can't you be like your brother?" her father asked, voice cold as steel.
"Why do you always embarrass us?"

That night, she cried into her pillow until she choked on the silence. She couldn't even talk to Jay. She didn't want him to feel guilty. He never asked to be the golden child. He just was.

Flashback

Seventeen.
The night before she was disowned.

Her mother had found the journal Jiah kept. The one where she'd written about wanting to disappear. Wanting peace.

"So now you're mentally ill?"

"We gave you everything—what more do you want? Sympathy?"

That was the first time her father raised his hand. The look in his eyes told her she was no longer his daughter. Just a shameful stain he wished he could scrub away.

The memory dissolved into the windowpane again.

Back to the present. Back to the train.

Jiah blinked, realizing her fists were clenched in her lap. Her nails had drawn faint crescents into her palms.

But this time... she didn't cry.

Instead, she exhaled. Slowly. Deeply.

She was far away now. Far from the house with rooms made of silence and walls that echoed with anger. Far from the parents who called her broken.

And for the first time in years...
She didn't feel afraid of breathing.

"Maybe it won't be that bad," she murmured.

But even as she said it, her stomach twisted. Because she knew better. Her family had left scars that didn't vanish with distance. Trauma had a way of following you. Of staining your shadow.

It was like that one song Jay had once played in his room, the one with that line that always haunted her:

"I can run, but I can't hide from a family line."

Jay.

A fresh ache bloomed in her chest at the thought of him.
Her only light in a house of darkness.

The one person who looked at her and didn't see disappointment.

She missed him so much it hurt to breathe. And even though she was free now, she felt emptier than ever.

"I'll drop everything."
His last words before she stepped onto that train.

But she couldn't ask him to.

Not when he had everything still ahead of him.

So from now on—she'd be alone.

Distant. Cold.
A fortress behind glass.

No one would see her pain. No one would get close.
She didn't believe in love. Not anymore.
Not when it had only ever come wrapped in bruises and blame.

She would survive.
Not flourish.
Just... survive.

The train hissed to a stop.

And just like that, Jiah had arrived.

She stepped out into the night, dragging her single suitcase behind her. The town was quiet, bathed in a soft orange glow from the streetlights. The air was different here—lighter, but unfamiliar.

Her taxi driver barely made conversation. Just dropped her off in front of a modest, four-story apartment building nestled at the end of a narrow street.

It wasn't grand. It wasn't much.
But it was hers now.

She stood there for a while, staring up at it.

Could she really start over here?

"Hey!"

A voice called from behind her, making her jump slightly. She turned just as a tall boy jogged toward her, a basketball tucked under his arm, hoodie zipped halfway, hair slightly damp with sweat.

He looked at her curiously. "You moving in?"

She hesitated. "Yeah."

"All by yourself?"

Again, she paused. "Yeah."

He didn't comment. Just gave a small grin and stuck out his hand.

"I'm Haejoon. I live on the second floor."

She blinked at his hand. She didn't take it.

He laughed awkwardly, then rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, not a handshake person. Got it."

Jiah looked him up and down, trying to get a read. He was handsome—too handsome, actually. Friendly eyes, easy smile. The kind of guy girls probably liked instantly.

And he was nice.

Too nice.

Which instantly made her suspicious.

"I'm Jiah," she said quietly.

"Cool name. Let me help you with that." He reached for her suitcase.

"No, I'm fine," she said quickly.

He tilted his head. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He reached again. "It's okay—"

"I said I'm fine," she snapped, sharper than intended.

He blinked, taken aback, but didn't back off.

"Okay. Cool. You're stubborn. I respect that."

She exhaled, a little annoyed. He was pushy. In a weirdly... charming way.

Eventually, without asking again, he just took the handle and started wheeling the suitcase toward the building.

"Fourth floor, right?" he called over his shoulder.

She gritted her teeth but followed.

Once they reached the top, he set the suitcase down in front of her door and grinned.

"If you need anything—sugar, ramen, life advice—I'm downstairs. Second floor."

He gave a little salute and walked off without waiting for a reply.

She stared after him, stunned.

Weird guy.

Nice... but weird.

Inside, the apartment was small but clean. Simple. Unfurnished, except for the basics.

Empty walls. Empty space.

She sat on the floor beside her suitcase, staring at nothing. Trying to breathe again.

Trying to feel okay.

Meanwhile, two floors below...

"Who was that?" Juwon asked, spinning her spoon in her soup as Haejoon walked in.

"New neighbor," Haejoon replied, plopping into his seat.

Jeongjae raised a brow. "What neighbor?"

"Girl around our age. Moved into the fourth floor. Alone, I think."

Everyone looked up.

"She didn't say much. Kind of mysterious," he added. "But polite. I think."

Jeongjae suddenly stood up and started scooping crabs into a container.

"Appa?" Juwon asked, confused.

"She's alone, isn't she? We should welcome her properly," Jeongjae said, already packing chopsticks, kimchi, and some warm rice into the box. "Can't have her eating cup noodles on her first night."

He handed the container to Haejoon. "Go. Now."

Haejoon groaned but stood up. "Alright, alright."

Knock knock.

Jiah opened the door cautiously.

It was him again.

Haejoon smiled and held out the container. "Dinner delivery. My dad made too much."

She stared at it, not knowing what to say.

Then, slowly, she took it.

"Thanks," she said softly.

"No problem. Sleep well."

He left before she could think of anything else to say.

She closed the door behind her, stared at the container in her hands.

Crab. Rice. Warmth.

A tiny piece of kindness in a world that had never known her name.

Maybe... just maybe...
It won't be so bad here.

Chapter Text

The sharp trill of Jiah's alarm cut through the quiet morning. She sat up in bed, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling above her. It took a beat to remember—this wasn't her old room. This wasn't even Seoul. This was Haegukgil. A fresh start... whether she wanted one or not.

Dragging herself to the edge of the bed, she let her fingers brush the fabric of her school uniform, neatly folded on the nearby chair. It still had creases from the packaging, as if the fabric itself hadn't quite accepted its purpose yet. Much like her.

She got ready in silence. No one yelling. No footsteps storming down the hallway. No Jay peeking in to tell her to hurry or offer a piece of toast on her way out. The quiet was new. Strange. Unsettling.

Outside, the early morning sun cast a soft glow over the sleepy neighborhood. Jiah walked to school alone, backpack slung over one shoulder, hood up despite the sunshine, headphones in though no music played. Just... noise-canceling the world.

-

At school, the gates buzzed with chatter and laughter. Students gathered in clusters, catching up, comparing hair colors, complaining about tests. Jiah slipped past them unnoticed, just another face in the crowd—exactly how she preferred it.

Until someone noticed her anyway.

"Oh! Hey, I haven't seen you before," a cheerful voice called out behind her. "Are you new?"

Jiah paused. Turned. A girl with bright eyes and the warmest smile stood there, her long hair tied up in a bouncy ponytail. She had a crab keychain hanging from her backpack zipper and kindness in her expression.

"I'm Juwon," the girl said, holding out her hand.

There was something about her—so open, so genuine—it almost made Jiah feel uncomfortable. She didn't shake the hand.

"Jiah," she muttered. "I'm new."

Juwon didn't take offense. She just nodded, still smiling. "Well, welcome! Do you know your class?"

Jiah pulled out a crumpled schedule from her pocket and held it up. Juwon squinted, then gasped. "No way! Same class as me!"

Jiah blinked. Of course.

"Come on, I'll take you there," Juwon said, already grabbing her by the wrist and leading her through the crowd. "It's a bit of a maze here. You'll thank me later."

And just like that, Jiah found herself being dragged down hallways by this bubbly stranger who clearly hadn't gotten the memo that she didn't do bubbly.

Juwon was stopped by her homeroom teacher right before she was about to enter the classroom with Jiah.

"You go ahed Juwon. Let Jiah enter later, I need to introduce her to the class as the new student."

Great. Exactly what Jiah wanted. More unwanted attention.

-

"Everyone, this is Park Jiwoo. She transferred from Seoul. Please take good care of her," the teacher announced casually, before pointing her to the seat beside a no other than, Juwon, with her wide eyes and a warm expression.

The moment Jiah sat down, Juwon leaned over, whispering with a bright grin, "I am so excited. We haven't had a new student in our class for so long. If you need anything, I'm your girl."

Jiah blinked slowly. "Thanks," she replied, voice clipped. It wasn't unkind—but distant. Cold.

Juwon didn't seem to mind. "We're gonna be friends. I can already tell."

You can't, Jiah thought, but she didn't say it.

The class moved on. Jiah tried to focus on the blackboard but her thoughts kept drifting—until she heard another girl's voice.

"Hi! I'm Dal. I sit behind you," she whispered during break. "I love your hair."

Jiah nodded, a soft "thanks" escaping before she could guard herself again.

Dal beamed. "You're gonna like it here. People are pretty chill. Well, except for exams—but that's universal, right?"

Dal's friendliness wasn't fake. It almost startled Jiah. She gave a small nod, grateful for the attempt—even if she wasn't ready to fully accept it.

- After School -

The afternoon sun dipped behind Haegukgil's rooftops, casting long shadows as students began spilling out of the building. Jiah stepped outside, thankful the day was over. She could go back to her apartment. Be alone. Safe in silence.

But fate had other plans.

"Jiah!"

She turned.

Juwon was standing by the gate, waving like they'd been friends for years. Beside her was a boy in a different uniform—taller, sharp eyes, carrying his backpack lazily over one shoulder. He looked over at Jiah, expression unreadable.

"This is Sanha," Juwon introduced. "My oppa. He's in the building next to ours, in 12th grade. Don't mind him—he looks scary but he's just serious about school."

Sanha gave her a small nod. Not rude. Not warm. Just... neutral.

Jiah nodded back, her default mask sliding into place.

"Come walk with us!" Juwon said, linking her arm with Jiah's before she could say no.

"I'm good," Jiah tried, gently pulling back. "I'll go alone."

"No way!" Juwon grinned. "We live in the same building. It's destiny. Come on~"

Before she could protest again, they were walking.

The three of them strolled down the quiet street. Juwon chatted on and off, carrying most of the conversation herself, occasionally throwing Sanha a playful jab. Jiah stayed quiet, trailing slightly behind them.

She kept her head down, feeling like a misplaced puzzle piece shoved into the wrong box.

When they reached the apartment complex, Juwon looked at her again. "Wanna come eat dinner with us?"

Jiah hesitated. "No, thanks."

"It's crab night. My dad's cooking. It's the best."

"I'm not hungry."

Her tone was sharper this time. The words colder.

Juwon blinked, surprised—but didn't push. "Okay... Maybe next time."

Jiah gave a small bow, then turned and climbed the stairs, her figure disappearing into the shadows of the fourth floor.

Chapter Text

Three weeks.

That's how long it had been since Jiah moved into the fourth floor of the apartment on Haegukgil Street. Twenty-one days in a town that was quieter than the silence she grew up with. A small, cozy neighborhood wrapped in comfort and familiarity—at least for everyone except her.

From the outside, things were calm. Normal. But behind closed doors, a different kind of quiet grew in Apartment 404. Not the comforting quiet of peace—but the crushing, suffocating silence of solitude. Jiah hadn't let a single soul in—not into her space, and definitely not into her heart.

In class, she sat alone. Juwon, who had initially tried to befriend her, had given up quickly. And who could blame her? Jiah had shut her down at every turn—cold glances, single-word answers, or sometimes, nothing at all.

Juwon eventually stopped trying.

To her, Jiah seemed arrogant—like a girl who thought she was better than everyone else just because she was from Seoul. A city girl with expensive-looking shoes and an untouchable aura. Juwon never guessed that maybe, just maybe, Jiah had no one else. That maybe the girl who always kept her head down had nothing to be proud of.

Juwon's resentment built slowly, day by day, fueled by misunderstanding and unspoken frustration. She avoided Jiah now, both in class and at home. She didn't know why Jiah had come to live alone in that apartment, and honestly, she didn't care anymore.

Sanha didn't think about Jiah much at all. He was in his final year, juggling exams, college applications, and the occasional bickering with Haejoon. But even he couldn't ignore Jiah's coldness. It rubbed him the wrong way—especially when she snapped at Juwon, who had only ever tried to be nice.

"She's just rude," he once muttered over dinner. "Don't bother with her."

Only Haejoon hadn't given up. If anything, her coldness amused him. He poked at her with playful grins, endless jokes, and the occasional stubborn offer to help carry groceries she clearly didn't want him touching. She glared, rolled her eyes, and slammed her door in his face more than once. But he just laughed it off every time.

Jeongjae, on the other hand, wasn't as easily fooled.

He noticed the way Jiah avoided eye contact. The way her hands trembled slightly when she held the food tray Haejoon delivered. The way she always returned it spotless, never once wasting a bite. There was something buried under her coldness—a reason, a wound.

So, once or twice a week, Jeongjae would pack extra dinner—spiced crabs, kimchi stew, warm rice—and hand the tray to Haejoon with a quiet, "Take it upstairs. Don't tell Juwon."

And Haejoon would smile like it was a secret mission. "Aye, aye, Captain."

-

It was a cloudy Saturday afternoon when it happened.

A sleek, black car pulled up outside the apartment complex. The tires crunched softly on the gravel driveway, and the engine cut off in a gentle hum. The door opened, and a boy stepped out.

Not just any boy.

A boy with soft, intelligent eyes. A boy with the exact same dimpled smile as Juwon. His hoodie was slightly too big, his hair ruffled from the ride. He looked up at the familiar building—and smiled.

Jungwon had finally come home.

After ten years of living with his aunt in Incheon, after a decade of missing birthdays, family dinners, and childhood memories—he was back. Jeongjae stood waiting at the door, and for a moment, the two just looked at each other.

And then, without words, they hugged.

Inside, Juwon stood awkwardly in the living room, twisting her fingers in her sleeves. She hadn't seen Jungwon since they were kids. Her memories of him were filled with laughter, secret games, and bedtime stories told under the covers. But now, he felt like a stranger.

When he walked in, her eyes welled with tears.

"Oppa..." she whispered.

He grinned and opened his arms wide. "Took me long enough, huh?"

They embraced tightly—ten years of absence melting in a single moment.

Sanha and Haejoon hovered near the kitchen, unsure of what to say. They had heard of Jungwon, of course—Juwon mentioned him often. But meeting him in person was different.

Haejoon was the first to speak. "So, you're the famous twin."

Jungwon laughed. "Depends. Did she talk about me in a good way?"

"Annoyingly good," Sanha muttered, still wary.

But over the next hour, the tension dissolved. Laughter returned. Conversations flowed. And by dinnertime, it felt like Jungwon had always been there. They squeezed around the dining table, sharing food and stories, the warmth of family finally feeling whole again.

Later that night, over bowls of rice and steamed crab, Juwon brought up the new tenant upstairs.

"She lives on the fourth floor," she said, stabbing her rice a little aggressively. "Her name's Jiah. Just... don't talk to her."

Jungwon raised a brow. "Why not?"

"She's rude," Juwon said flatly. "Cold. I tried being nice—she acted like I was trash. Thinks she's better than everyone."

"Maybe she's just shy?" Jungwon offered gently.

"She's from Seoul," Sanha chimed in. "Probably thinks we're all country bumpkins."

"Still," Jungwon shrugged, grinning. "Sounds interesting."

Haejoon snorted. "Careful. She bites."

Everyone laughed—but Jeongjae just looked quietly at his bowl.

Meanwhile, just outside, a taxi pulled into the driveway.

Jiah stepped out, her part-time café uniform wrinkled, her limbs aching from another long shift. She looked up at the apartment, clutching her bag close. The lights in the windows glowed warmly—but none of them were for her.

She didn't know about Jungwon's arrival.

She didn't know that downstairs, a room full of laughter waited just two floors away.

She didn't know that her story was about to change again.

With a quiet sigh, she walked up the steps, key in hand, and disappeared into the dark hallway.

Chapter Text

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon—the kind where the sun wasn't too bright, and the breeze felt just right. Juwon was scrolling through her phone as she walked alongside Haejoon, Sanha, and Jungwon. The four of them were strolling through Haegukgil's quieter streets, laughing about something Haejoon said that wasn't even funny but somehow had everyone cracking up.

"I'm starving," Jungwon groaned, rubbing his stomach dramatically. "Don't tell me we're walking all over town just to decide where to eat."

"There's a place just around the corner," Haejoon piped up, pointing. "It's this little café. Really good coffee. And the pastries? Chef's kiss."

Juwon looked up from her phone for the first time in five minutes. The second her eyes landed on the café sign, her stomach dropped.

She knew that place.

More specifically, she knew who worked there.

"Oh no," she mumbled, already slowing her pace.

Sanha raised a brow. "What?"

Juwon stopped in front of the door. "We can't go in there."

"Why not?" Jungwon asked, confused.

Haejoon blinked. "What, are you allergic to croissants now?"

Juwon gritted her teeth. "She's in there."

Sanha didn't even need to ask who. He glanced through the glass and, sure enough, there she was—behind the counter, tying her apron.

"Seriously, let's go somewhere else," Juwon muttered, already turning around.

But Haejoon grabbed her wrist. "C'mon, Juwonie. Don't be like that."

He was smirking—but inside, he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see Jiah in her little barista mode. Something about her grumpy little glares made his day, and he lived for annoying her.

"Besides," he added, "the food slaps."

With a final groan, Juwon let herself be dragged in.

The bell above the door chimed.

From behind the counter, Jiah looked up—and froze.

She blinked once.

Twice.

Was this real?

Standing at the entrance were all four of them.

Juwon, with her annoyed expression already locked in.

Sanha, as apathetic as always.

Haejoon, wearing that stupidly playful smirk.

And...

Jiah's eyes lingered on the unfamiliar boy. He was scanning the café like it was the most interesting place he'd ever seen. His eyes were soft, his smile warm. And the resemblance to Juwon was eerie.

Haejoon was already making his way to the counter, grinning like he was on a mission.

"Hey, Barista Queen," he greeted casually, leaning against the glass display.

Jiah narrowed her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Buying a croissant?" he said, all innocence. "Maybe some coffee. Maybe charming the girl behind the counter."

She rolled her eyes. "You're not charming anyone."

He grinned wider. "That's what you think."

She glanced past him, her gaze settling once more on the mystery boy who was now flipping through a menu by the entrance.

"Who's the new one?" she asked.

"Oh, right," Haejoon said, like he forgot. "That's Jungwon. Juwon's twin."

Jiah's brows furrowed slightly. Twin?

She didn't say anything, but Haejoon could tell she was processing. The gears were turning in that pretty, guarded head of hers.

"I'll get you guys your usuals," she muttered, tapping at the screen.

"Aw, you remember my usual?" he teased. "You do like me."

She shot him a glare that could've set fire to the espresso machine.

Meanwhile, back at the table, Jungwon leaned toward Sanha. "So... that's her?"

Sanha nodded. "Yup. That's Jiah. The mysterious girl from the fourth floor."

Jungwon glanced over again, watching as she worked the espresso machine with practiced ease.

"She doesn't seem that bad," he said.

Juwon snorted. "Wait till she speaks. Or don't. Just ignore her."

Jungwon didn't say anything. But he kept watching.

There was something about her—about the way her eyes flicked up just for a second, then immediately turned away. The way her shoulders stiffened around people. Like she was always on guard.

Haejoon returned to the table, placing their drinks and pastries down. "Our barista was as delightful as ever," he said, dramatic.

"You seriously like annoying her, don't you?" Juwon asked.

"I like a challenge," he said with a wink.

Jungwon chuckled quietly, then glanced back toward the counter.

For a second, his eyes met Jiah's.

She looked away immediately.

But in that fleeting moment—he saw something.

Something heavy.

Something tired.

He didn't know what she'd been through.

But Jungwon had always been good at reading people.

And Jiah Park was a book begging to be opened—no matter how many locks it had on the cover.

That night, as Jiah walked home from her shift, the streets of Haegukgil were quiet. She climbed the stairs to the fourth floor without bothering to look around.

She hadn't said a single word to the boy—Juwon's twin. But his smile had lingered in her mind longer than she wanted to admit.

Downstairs, in the second-floor apartment, Jungwon sat on the floor with Haejoon, Sanha, Juwon, and Jeongjae, laughing over card games and sharing snacks. But every now and then, his mind drifted back to the girl in the café.

The girl who hadn't smiled once.

And yet—somehow—he wanted to see her again.

Chapter Text

Jungwon's first day at school in Haegukgil wasn't exactly what he expected.

The school was smaller than the one he'd attended in Seoul, tucked between quiet hills and lined with fading cherry blossom trees. But the biggest surprise was finding himself in the same class as his twin sister, Juwon, and the girl everyone had been talking about since last night—Jiah.

He spotted her immediately when he entered the classroom, sitting by the window with her chin resting on her hand. Her eyes didn't even flicker toward him. Cold. Closed off. Just like Juwon had said.

"Don't bother trying to talk to her," Juwon muttered under her breath, nudging him toward an empty seat next to hers. "She's rude for no reason. Thinks she's better than everyone."

Jungwon glanced at Jiah again. Somehow, he didn't buy that.

But he kept his thoughts to himself.

During lunch, Juwon introduced Jungwon to Dal, the class precedent and Juwon's best friend. Dal waved brightly and launched into rapid-fire chatter, clearly excited about Jungwon's transfer. Meanwhile, Jiah sat a few rows away, eating in silence.

-

School had ended, and the classroom was nearly empty now—desks pushed in, chairs stacked, and the air growing quieter by the second.

Juwon had left in a rush, saying something about meeting Dal at the convenience store. Most of the students had already gone, leaving behind the faint smell of wet earth as the rain poured relentlessly outside the windows.

Jiah stood near the doorway, staring out at the storm.

She hadn't brought an umbrella.

Jungwon had stayed back because the teacher wanted to go over some transfer student paperwork with him. It hadn't taken long, and as he stepped into the now-empty doorway, he spotted her silhouette near.

He almost didn't recognize her at first. She looked softer somehow, framed by the gray-blue glow of the rainy afternoon. No one else around. No sharp edges in her voice.

Just... quiet.

He walked up beside her.

"It's really coming down," he said casually, watching the sheets of water hammer the pavement outside.

She didn't reply.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. Her bag was slung over her shoulder, her arms folded, her face unreadable.

"You don't have an umbrella, do you?"

Still no answer. But the slightest side-eye confirmed his suspicion.

"Well, lucky for you," he said, pulling a folded blue umbrella out of his backpack with a smile, "I do."

She looked at it. Then at him.

"No thanks," she said, stepping slightly away.

"Okay," he said, unfazed. "Then I'll just walk with you in silence. You won't even know I'm here."

"I'm fine."

"You'll get soaked."

She didn't respond.

He opened the umbrella anyway, held it over both their heads, and simply held her hand and made her start walking beside him without another word.

After a few seconds, she sighed—dramatically, he thought—but didn't push him away.

"You always this persistent?" she muttered.

"Only with people who pretend they don't need help but clearly do," he said, a small grin tugging at his lips.

That made her glance at him.

"Did your sister tell you I'm rude?"

"Yup."

"And yet here you are."

He shrugged. "I don't think being guarded makes you rude."

They walked in silence for a few more steps, the rain tapping gently on the umbrella above them. The world felt quiet. Like they were in their own little space, protected from the downpour.

Jiah didn't say anything else. But she didn't move away, either.

When they reached the apartment building, she reached for the door.

"Thanks," she said, barely audible.

He didn't press it.

Just smiled again, this time softer. "Anytime, neighbor."

-

That night, the walls of Jiah's apartment felt closer than ever.

The air was still. Heavy.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, the light from the streetlamp outside casting faint shadows across her floor. The only sound was the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen and the occasional car passing by below.

Her phone buzzed once.
She didn't look.

Buzz.
Again.

She slowly reached for it, flipping it over.

Jay.

Her heart stilled.

She stared at the screen, her thumb hovering. It had been weeks. Not a single call. Not a message. And now—out of nowhere—he was calling.

Part of her wanted to toss the phone away.

But her heart... it still reached for him.

She answered.

"...Hello?" Her voice came out small, like it hadn't been used in days.

There was a beat of silence on the other end. And then—

"Jiah," he breathed, like he had been holding it in this entire time. "Oh my God. Jiah."

Her eyes burned instantly. Her grip on the phone tightened.

"I missed you," he said, voice cracking. "I've been going crazy not knowing how you are—"

"You're calling me now?" she whispered. "Now?"

"I tried—" his voice stumbled over itself. "I tried, but Appa—he's been checking my phone. He... I couldn't—Jiah, I swear I wanted to—"

She swallowed hard, but the lump in her throat made it impossible to speak.

"Are you okay?" he asked, softer now. "Please tell me you're okay."

Her lip trembled. And then—

"No," she breathed. "No, I'm not okay."

And that was all it took.

Everything she had been holding in for the past three weeks, every unshed tear, every lonely night in her quiet apartment—every moment of trying to pretend she was fine—came crashing down like a wave. A sob tore from her throat before she could stop it.

Jay was still talking on the other end, his voice urgent and panicked, "Hey—hey, Jiah, don't cry. Please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry—"

But she couldn't stop.

"I kept thinking you forgot about me," she sobbed. "That you didn't care. That you were just... gone."

"I never forgot about you," he whispered. "I think about you every day. I look at your room, and it's empty and it kills me, Jiah. I wanted to call you on the first night. I wanted to find you—run to you—but I couldn't even leave the house. I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve any of this."

She curled up tighter, pressing her forehead to her knees as tears soaked her sleeves. Her voice came out muffled. "I hate them."

"I do too."

Jay's voice cracked again. "And I hate myself for not finding a way to stop it. Stop this form happening."

There was a long pause. Just the sound of both of them breathing and trying not to fall apart completely.

"I miss you," she whispered.

"I miss you more."

More silence.

Then, quietly:
"Do you ever think we'll be okay again?" she asked.

Jay didn't answer right away. Then, gently:
"I don't know. But I'll never stop hoping we will."

The call ended minutes later, but the ache didn't.

Jiah sat there for a while, phone still pressed to her chest, tears still falling silently. Her eyes were swollen, and her whole body felt heavy—like grief had settled into her bones.

She needed to breathe.
She needed air.
She needed space.

Without a word, she slipped on her hoodie, tucked her phone into her pocket, and quietly left her apartment. Her feet carried her up the staircase, one stair at a time, until she reached the rooftop.

And just as she stepped out into the open night air, wiping the tears from her cheeks—

She saw them.

All four of them were sitting on a blanket, mid-laugh, pieces of strawberry cake in their hands. Haejoon had frosting on his nose, and Jungwon was trying to wipe whipped cream off his shirt. Sanha looked like he had just yelled something, and Juwon was holding a fork like she was about to stab someone in revenge.

It was light. Warm. Happy.

It was everything she wasn't.

The moment they saw her, the laughter stopped. Forks paused in mid-air. Jiah froze.

Her eyes were still red. Her cheeks blotchy. Her face said everything her mouth never could.

Juwon scowled first. "Why are you here?"

Jiah didn't answer. She didn't even look at them properly. Just lowered her gaze, turned around, and quietly walked away.

And none of them noticed how her hands were trembling.

But two pairs of eyes followed her longer than the rest.

Jungwon. Haejoong.

-

Downstairs, later that night, Jungwon leaned against the kitchen counter with a thoughtful frown.

"Did you see her face?" he asked Haejoon quietly. "She was crying."

"I noticed," Haejoon said, arms crossed.

"Do you think she's okay?"

Haejoon shrugged. "I don't think she wants anyone to know."

Jungwon nodded. "Still... something's not right."

-

An hour later, while everyone else was huddled around a movie, Haejoon stood up and stretched.

"Bathroom," he announced.

But instead of heading down the hall, he tiptoed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a container of cake and a pint of ice cream. With the quietest footsteps he could manage, he snuck upstairs to the 4th floor.

Knock knock.

Jiah opened the door, still in the oversized shirt she wore to bed. Her eyes widened when she saw him.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, voice still hoarse from crying.

"I brought sweets," he said with a grin. "I figured you could use some."

"I don't want—"

"Too bad," he cut her off, slipping inside like he lived there. "Where's your table?"

"I didn't invite you in—"

"Don't care," he said, setting down the cake and ice cream on her coffee table and plopping onto the couch.

She stared at him, utterly baffled.

"You should have sugar when you're sad," he explained, patting the seat beside him. "It doesn't fix anything, but it makes the sadness taste better."

Despite herself, Jiah sat down. Wordless. But she accepted the fork he handed her.

They ate in silence. But somehow, it didn't feel heavy.

Before leaving, Haejoon stood at the door and grinned. "You should give me your number."

She raised an eyebrow.

"We're neighbors," he added. "What if I need to text you something urgent? Like, 'Hey, I left my umbrella in the hallway,' or, 'Let's eat cake again.'"

To his surprise, Jiah handed him her phone.

"Don't make it weird," she muttered.

He laughed as he saved his contact. "Never. I'm the least weird person you'll ever meet."

As he walked out the door, he called over his shoulder, "Text me if you ever feel like being less sad."

The door clicked shut.

And for the first time in weeks, Jiah smiled. Just a little.

Chapter Text

The next morning at school, Jiah wasn't expecting anything different. She had mastered the art of slipping through the hallways without making noise, dodging conversations, and keeping her eyes low.

But that day, as she stepped into class, a quiet voice called out to her.

"Hey," Jungwon said, walking over with a small paper bag in hand. "You left early this morning. Thought you might like this."

Jiah blinked, unsure whether to respond or simply walk away. But the smell of something sweet hit her before she could decide—fresh bread. She glanced down. Inside the bag was a warm, soft melonpan from the bakery near their neighborhood.

"I heard from Haejoon that you like melon bread," he said with a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck. "I saw the bakery this morning and just... figured it might make today better."

"...Why?" Her voice was cautious, low.

Jungwon shrugged. "I don't know. You just seemed... sad. On the rooftop, I mean."

Jiah stiffened slightly, her eyes falling to the bag before lifting back up to him. There wasn't pity in his face. Just kindness. And something else—understanding.

"I don't need pity bread," she said, but there was no real bite to her tone. Just habit.

"I didn't bring pity bread," he said, smiling. "It's appreciation bread."

"Appreciation?"

"For walking home with me yesterday. You saved me from an awkward solo walk in the rain."

"But you literally dragged or forced me into walking with you..?"

Jungwon didn't say anything to that but just gave her a cheeky smile.

"I'll take the bread," she said finally, her fingers brushing his as she took the bag.

"Good," he replied, his eyes crinkling with that gentle warmth. "One step closer to friendship."

Jiah paused, holding the bread like it was a foreign object. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Jungwon laughed quietly. "No promises."

She turned, heading toward her seat, but she kept the bag close to her chest. Warm. Soft. Comforting. And for a second, the ache in her chest that had been there for weeks... dulled.

-

Outside the classroom, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Haejoon watched the whole interaction unfold through the open door.

He hadn't been looking for anything in particular. He was just passing by—early to school for once, probably because Jeongjae forced him out of bed. But when he saw her—Jiah, standing still with that bread in her hands—and him, smiling like he'd just made someone's entire day...

A weird feeling curled up in Haejoon's stomach.

Jealousy?

No. No, definitely not. That would be ridiculous.

It's not like he liked Jiah. She was annoying. She always acted like she didn't care about anyone. She barely even tolerated him, and that was after he brought her cake and ice cream and everything.

But still...

He didn't like how easily she was talking to Jungwon. How soft her expression had looked. How her fingers had brushed his when she took the bread. She'd never let Haejoon get that close.

Haejoon scoffed under his breath and turned away, heading down the hallway. He tried to shake it off. He even stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets like he always did when he was annoyed.

But the image stayed in his mind the entire morning.

That damn bread. That look on her face. The way Jungwon smiled like he'd just unlocked a secret level of Jiah.

Haejoon hated that it bothered him.

And yet, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

-

Later that night, Jiah stood on the rooftop, her arms wrapped around herself as the night breeze brushed past. The stars above Haegukgil shone brighter than they ever did back in Seoul. Out here, away from the blinding city lights, the sky felt endless.

She didn't know why she'd come up.

Maybe it was because her apartment was too quiet. Maybe it was because the melon bread had softened a part of her she was trying desperately to keep hard.

Maybe it was because she couldn't stop thinking about the phone call from Jay the night before. His voice still echoed in her ears, cracked and choked with tears as he said he missed her. That he'd do anything to bring her back.

That he still couldn't forgive himself for not stopping it.

Her throat tightened. She bit down hard, trying to will the tears away. Not here. Not again.

A soft creak sounded behind her.

She turned.

Jungwon.

He was holding two paper cups and a blanket tossed over one arm. "Didn't expect to find you up here."

Jiah said nothing, quickly turning back to the edge. "You following me?"

"Nope," he said easily, stepping beside her and placing one of the cups on the ledge. "Just needed fresh air. But since you're here... want some hot chocolate?"

She glanced sideways. "You carry hot chocolate around for rooftop emergencies?"

"I like to be prepared," he said with a grin. "Also, my dad said it might get really cold due to the rain, so I brought the blanket. Want to sit?"

Jiah hesitated. But then, silently, she sat.

They didn't speak for a few moments. Just sipped quietly as the wind danced around them. The world felt quieter here—like it paused just long enough for people like her to catch their breath.

"You know," Jungwon said, gazing up at the stars, "My aunt used to tell me that the stars are the pieces of people's dreams that escaped and found a place to live forever."

Jiah looked up slowly. "That's... dramatic."

"I like dramatic," he replied. "Makes life more interesting."

She hummed softly. "What if you don't have any dreams left?"

"Then maybe someone else will dream for you until you do."

Jiah stared at him, heart twisting unexpectedly.

"I don't think you're cold," he added, barely above a whisper. "I think you're tired. Of everything."

Her fingers curled around the cup. "You don't know me."

"Not yet," he said. "But I'd like to."

For the first time in a long while, Jiah didn't feel the urge to run. Or hide. Or build a wall.

She looked back up at the sky, the stars flickering softly above them.

Maybe—just maybe—she didn't have to carry everything alone.

Chapter Text

It rained again.

Not a soft drizzle like last time, but a heavy, steady downpour that soaked the pavement and flooded the gutters. Jiah stood beneath the awning just outside the school gates, umbrella already in hand. She had learned from last time.

She hadn't expected to see Jungwon sprinting out of the school building—bag over his head, clearly unprepared.

Their eyes met.

He slowed as he saw her, his brows raised slightly. "Hey."

Jiah didn't respond right away. She looked at her umbrella, then at him. A war played out in her head—indifference battling with... something else.

"I thought you were smart," she said finally, lifting the umbrella just an inch.

"I am," Jungwon said, flashing a grin. "Just not when it comes to the weather app."

A beat passed. Then, wordlessly, she stepped closer and tilted the umbrella to cover them both.

He didn't thank her. He just smiled wider, falling into step beside her as they walked through the rain.

Unlike last time, it was her choice.

The silence between them wasn't awkward anymore. It felt... easy. Raindrops pattered against the umbrella. Puddles splashed under their shoes. And for once, the sky wasn't the only thing softening.

"I didn't expect you to wait," Jungwon said quietly.

"I didn't," Jiah replied. "I just... didn't want to deal with a soaked neighbor later complaining about catching a cold."

Jungwon laughed. "Right. You're doing this for the greater good of the building."

"Exactly."

But her voice didn't hold the same sharp edge. It was drier, almost teasing.

And Jungwon noticed.

-

Later that afternoon, Jiah finished up her shift at the café. Her feet ached from standing, but she was glad the day was over. Just as she was gathering her things, the doorbell above the café rang.

"Can I help you?" Jiah asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she walked to the counter.

A tall, familiar figure stood before her, looking down with an amused glint in his eyes. He was holding a box of pastries in one hand and a thick envelope in the other.

"Ah, Jiah, is that you?" Heeseung's teasing voice rang out.

Jiah blinked, taken aback for a moment. She hadn't expected him here. "Heeseung... what are you doing here?"

He chuckled. "Well, Jay sent me to check on you. Couldn't come himself, you know? He's got family stuff. But I've got some stuff for you." He waved the envelope in front of her. "From him."

Jiah eyed the pastries. "And those?"

"I brought these, too. Got them for us. Your work must be exhausting, right?" Heeseung's grin was mischievous, and there was something brotherly about the way he looked at her. "I thought we could eat these together. No barista duties for the next hour."

Jiah rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. Heeseung was like the second older brother she never had—always teasing, always there when she needed him. He was Jay's best friend.

"Thanks," she said, taking the envelope and pastries. "You know Jay didn't have to do that."

Heeseung waved a hand dismissively. "Of course, he did. He's always looking out for you." He motioned toward the door. "Let's go to your place. We can eat this stuff there."

-

After the café closed, Heeseung and Jiah made their way back to the apartment building together. The sky was darker now, clouds heavy with rain again, and the streets were still damp from the earlier storm. They laughed quietly as they walked, Heeseung swinging the bag of pastries he bought earlier and teasing Jiah about her "expert barista skills."

Jiah just rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know, my latte art has improved drastically. I can make a heart now."

"Oh, a heart?" Heeseung smirked. "You practicing for someone?"

She bumped into him playfully. "Shut up."

From the third floor, Sanha stood near the stairwell window, his eyes narrowing slightly as he caught sight of Jiah walking into the building with an unfamiliar man. They were talking and laughing—way too casually.

-

Later that evening, dinner on the second floor was loud as always. Sanha sat beside his dad, poking at his rice half-heartedly while the others chatted.

"Hey," he said, setting his chopsticks down. "I saw Jiah earlier."

Everyone looked up.

"She was coming into the building with some guy. I think they went to her place."

There was a sharp pause.

Haejoon blinked. "Some guy?"

Jungwon didn't say anything, but the shift in his expression was noticeable—shoulders tensed, jaw clenched.

Juwon raised an eyebrow. "Huh. Interesting."

Sanha shrugged. "He looked older. They seemed close."

Juwon leaned over to Haejoon, lowering her voice just enough. "You should take her some food. You know... be neighborly. Maybe see who this 'guy' is."

Haejoon narrowed his eyes. "You just want me to spy."

"Exactly," Juwon said with a smug grin. "You're the only one she doesn't hate."

Jeongjae, sitting nearby, glanced up with a frown. "Guys, come on. That sounds like an invasion of privacy."

"Too late," Juwon sang, already packing up a small plate of leftovers. "Haejoon, move."

Haejoon sighed, grabbed the plate, and headed upstairs.

-

The hallway was quiet, thunder rumbling in the distance. Rain began tapping on the windows again—another storm rolling in. Haejoon reached the fourth floor and knocked on Jiah's door.

It opened after a few seconds.

But it wasn't Jiah.

Heeseung stood in the doorway, casually dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie, hair slightly damp from earlier. His eyes flicked to Haejoon, expression unreadable. He raised an eyebrow.

"...Uh," Haejoon said, frozen in place. "I'm Jiah's downstairs neighbor. Brought her some food."

Heeseung took a second to respond. Then he smiled—polite, calm, but distant. "Thanks. She's in the shower. I'll let her know."

Haejoon handed him the plate, still kind of stunned. "Right. Cool."

Without another word, Heeseung nodded and gently shut the door.

Haejoon just stood there for a second, eyes wide, before heading back down.

-

Back at the dinner table, everyone turned to him as he sat down.

"Well?" Juwon asked.

"There's a guy," Haejoon muttered. "Older. Tall. Handsome. Opened the door. Didn't say much."

"Did he say who he was?" Jeongjae asked.

"No. Said Jiah was in the shower."

That earned a few raised eyebrows.

Jungwon tried to stay neutral, but the stiffness in his posture gave him away. His chopsticks didn't move.

Juwon smirked and leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying this a little too much.

"Interesting."

Chapter Text

Heeseung was leaving for Seoul that afternoon, but not before one last meal with his favorite little sister, Jiah.

"Lunch is on me," he'd said with a grin that morning, waving a card loaded with way too much money for fried rice and banchan. "Jay would murder me if I didn't spoil you properly before heading back."

Downstairs, on the second floor, Juwon was suspicious.

She stood at the window, eyes narrowed as she spotted Jiah coming down the stairs with a tall, annoyingly good-looking guy. The same guy from yesterday. The same guy who had apparently stayed the night. She didn't care if the weather was bad—there were hotels for that. Motels. Basements.

"I knew it," she muttered. "I knew something was off about her."

Sanha, who was just trying to eat cereal in peace, blinked. "Who?"

"That girl. Fourth floor. Miss Mysterious. She's with him again. You saw him, right?"

"I saw a guy with her yesterday, yeah. What about it?"

"We're following them."

Sanha choked. "Wait, what?"

"For investigative purposes only."

He stared at her. "You just don't like her."

"Exactly," she said with a proud nod, already grabbing a hoodie and pulling her hair into a bun. "Now come on. Don't you want to know what kind of guy she's sneaking around with?"

"This feels illegal."

"Too late, we're in too deep."

And that's how Juwon and Sanha found themselves trailing behind Jiah and Heeseung from a safe-ish distance, ducking behind signs and pretending to look at menus they had zero interest in.

Juwon whispered, "You be my lookout. I'll be the eyes."

"You've watched too many spy movies."

Meanwhile, at the cozy restaurant tucked between two side streets, Jiah sat across from Heeseung, a bowl of jjajangmyeon in front of her and a warm, familiar smile across the table.

"I still can't believe you showed up at my work," she said, half-laughing. "You looked like you were going to faint."

"I did not," Heeseung defended. "I just didn't expect you to be a full-time barista now. With the cute apron and everything."

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

As they ate, their conversation slowly shifted—softened. Jiah poked at her food a little before speaking, her voice quieter than before.

"It's hard sometimes," she admitted. "Pretending everything's okay."

Heeseung didn't say anything right away. He just looked at her. Not pitying—just... understanding.

"It's easier to act like I'm fine than explain why I'm not," she added.

Heeseung leaned back in his chair, lifting a dumpling with his chopsticks. "Then don't explain," he said. "Just eat. Crying ruins the flavor anyway."

She laughed—like, really laughed—and it was the best sound he'd heard all week.

"Jay misses you a lot, by the way," he added more seriously. "He wanted to come. You know that, right?"

"I know." Her eyes softened. "But if he did, they'd... do something."

"Yeah. So, I got sent instead. I'm like the more funnier version of Jay."

She smirked. "You've sure got your charms."

Heeseung beamed, then dramatically placed a hand on his chest. "You wound me."

Outside, Juwon whispered to Sanha, "She's laughing. That's evil. No one laughs that much with a guy unless there's something shady going on."

Sanha, chewing a rice cake from a random snack stand, replied flatly, "Or they're just friends."

"You're too trusting," she said, snapping a photo like she was documenting a criminal. "This is evidence."

After lunch, Heeseung and Jiah walked side by side down the street, casually sharing a custard bun from a street vendor.

"I swear, if Jay finds out I gave you more money again he'll say I'm spoiling you."

"You are spoiling me," she replied.

"Good," Heeseung grinned.

They were mid-laugh when they heard a familiar voice.

"Jiah?"

She turned—and her heart skipped.

There, standing near the crosswalk, holding grocery bags, were Jungwon and Haejoon.

Of course.

Jiah straightened slightly. Heeseung blinked, then smiled.

"Oh, hey! I know you," he said to Haejoon, pointing like they were old friends. "You came by with food last night, right? It was so good."

Haejoon's expression didn't change. "I gave it for Jiah, not you."

Jiah blinked. "Um—"

Heeseung just laughed, patting Haejoon's shoulder like they were all best buds. "Still counts. Thanks, neighbor."

The tension in the air was... thick.

Jiah cleared her throat. "Right. Uh... This is Heeseung. A... friend. He was visiting."

Heeseung added with a smile, "And you guys are...?"

"Neighbors," Jungwon said at the same time Jiah did.

Their eyes met briefly. Jungwon looked away.

Jiah added, "Heeseung's going back to Seoul today."

"Oh." Haejoon's voice was flat. "How sad."

Heeseung grinned. "Yeah, tragic. I'll survive somehow."

She didn't miss the slight twitch of Jungwon's jaw.

They walked away after a beat, and the awkward energy left with them.

Back on the second floor, Juwon was already retelling the story over dinner like it was a drama script.

"She laughed. Like... laughed. Not even fake laughed. It was suspicious."

Sanha, chewing rice, muttered, "She's allowed to laugh."

"I'm just saying."

Their dad sighed. "We should really not spy on our neighbors."

Haejoon dropped his chopsticks suddenly. "I gave her food last night."

Everyone turned to him.

Juwon perked up. "And?!"

"Some guy opened the door. I didn't catch his name then, but... it was the same guy today. He just opened it, smiled, thanked me, and shut the door. Jiah was in the shower."

Sanha: "That sounds so weird."

Juwon gasped. "See?! He stayed over."

Jungwon was quiet.

Too quiet.

His fingers tightened around his glass just slightly.

Sanha's dad, who'd just walked in, looked between them. "What did I miss?"

Juwon: "Only the start of Jiah's secret romance arc."

Jungwon muttered, "It's not a romance."

But nobody missed the way his voice dipped.

Not even himself.

Chapter Text

Heeseung had left for Seoul last night.

Jiah should've felt relief, or at least peace. But instead, the apartment felt too quiet. No more teasing. No more loud chewing and annoying tapping of his phone against the table. No more warmth.

She didn't realize how much space one person's presence could take up until they were gone.

Even thought he was here for just one day, she still missed him. She missed her older brother.

She sighed and tied up her hair, tossing her hoodie over her head.
Time for school. Time to move on. Time to not think about anything else.

-

Downstairs, Jungwon was already outside, his backpack slung lazily over one shoulder as he leaned against the gate. His eyes flicked up when he saw her coming. He straightened, but didn't smile.

Not this time.

"You're late," he said plainly.

Jiah blinked. "You're not my timekeeper."

He didn't respond right away. Just started walking. She followed.

The silence was different today. Tense. Not comfortable. Not easy.

She stole a glance at him. He looked fine, like always—calm and unreadable. But there was a slight tightness in his jaw, and he wasn't walking as close as usual.

"Something wrong?" she finally asked.

He kept walking. "No."

"...You're lying."

That made him stop. He turned his head slightly, looking at her.
"You're really close with that Heeseung guy, huh?" he asked, voice deceptively light.

Jiah blinked. "What?"

"I saw you two. Laughing, walking home together. Eating lunch outside."

Her brows raised. "Were you spying on me?"

"No," he said quickly. "Sanha and Juwon were."

Jiah laughed under her breath. "Let me guess. Juwon narrated it like a spy drama?"

"...She might've said 'operation sushi surveillance.'"

A pause. Then both of them broke into soft laughter. It was short-lived.

Jungwon looked ahead again. "Heeseung... he's important to you."

"He's family," Jiah said. "Basically a second older brother. He only came because Jay asked him to check up on me."

He didn't respond.

"You were jealous," Jiah said before she could stop herself.

Jungwon's head whipped toward her. "I was not."

"You were so jealous."

"No, I— I just... didn't know who he was. It was suspicious."

She smiled. "Jealousy isn't a crime, Jungwon."

He stared at her. She expected him to deny it again. Instead, he mumbled, "Well, maybe I just didn't like the thought of someone else making you laugh like that."

Jiah's smile disappeared. Her heart stuttered—completely, inconveniently.

She looked away. "That's dumb."

"Yeah," he said. "Probably."

-

Jiah sat in the library during lunch, flipping through a book she wasn't reading. She had told her classmates she wanted to be alone, but part of her was hoping—just a little—that someone would ignore that.

And someone did.

Jungwon slid into the seat across from her, two onigiri in his hand. He didn't say anything. Just pushed one across the table.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Peace offering," he said. "Sorry for being weird this morning."

She took the rice ball, unwrapped it slowly. "...You weren't that weird."

A pause. She added, "Just slightly dramatic."

"I was not dramatic," he protested.

"You literally sulked like a K-drama lead."

He gaped. "Take that back."

Jiah took a bite of the rice ball and smiled. "Not a chance."

Jungwon looked at her for a moment—like he wanted to say something else—but then just shook his head with a soft smile and dug into his own.

For a while, they just sat like that. No tension. No walls.

Just two people who'd both been carrying too much, finally letting something else in.

-

The sky was dark, but not heavy. The stars were faint, scattered across the inky canvas like afterthoughts. The kind of night where everything felt quiet, but nothing felt still.

Jiah sat alone on the rooftop, legs pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. The wind tugged at her sleeves, and the distant hum of the city buzzed below. She didn't mind the cold.

She hadn't cried. She hadn't broken down. She hadn't even screamed.

But everything inside her felt loud.

She tilted her head back, staring up at the stars that barely blinked through the city haze.

What a joke.

She hated how easily people assumed she was fine. How quickly they mistook silence for strength. She hadn't said she was okay—but no one ever asked twice, either.

And maybe that was the point. Maybe if she looked fine long enough, she'd actually start to believe it too.

But tonight, there was no mask. No front. No perfectly timed comebacks or cold stares. Just her. Just the weight she didn't let others see.

Her fingers tightened around her sleeves.

She wasn't lonely. She was just... tired.

Tired of pretending she didn't want someone to understand without needing the full explanation.

Tired of building walls and still wondering why no one tried to climb over them.

Tired of carrying things alone and being praised for it.

The stars didn't answer. They just blinked — indifferent and distant.

Jiah didn't ask anything from them anyway.

She exhaled slowly, grounding herself in the chill of the wind and the stillness of the rooftop. No one could reach her here. And for now, that was enough.

She felt something heavy. Something coming her way and she did not know how to stop it. She has a feeling that she was not going to like what the future will be holding for her.

She wanted to escape.

Chapter Text

The news dropped like a thunderclap.

"For the next two weeks, you'll be working in pairs for the literature project," their teacher announced, eyes twinkling with evil glee. "Partners have already been randomly assigned."

Juwon immediately looked to the ceiling. "No. Please no."

Jiah didn't react at all—she simply closed her textbook and waited.

"Juwon... and Jiah."

Boom.

The class collectively gasped. Someone whispered, "They're going to fight before the first slide's made."

Juwon gave a slow, disbelieving blink. "No. Absolutely not. I protest. Academic injustice."

Across the room, Jiah calmly pulled out her planner, flipping to the week's schedule. "I'll message you a time. I'm free after six."

Juwon stared. "You think I want to make time for this?!"

Jiah looked up, expression blank. "You think I do?"

The class oohed like it was a reality show. Even the teacher sighed. "Good luck, girls."

-

Later that evening, Jiah knocked on the second floor apartment, literature book in hand. Haejoon opened the door like it was Christmas morning. "Oh? Look who's here. The girl Juwon pretends not to like but secretly keeps tabs on."

Juwon shouted from the living room, "Haejoon, I will throw something."

He just winked and waved Jiah inside. "Make yourself at home, Ice Queen."

Jeongjae appeared behind him, polite and calm as always. "I set out tea. And snacks. In case things get... intense."

Jiah walked in, scanned the living room, and paused. "You have a nice place."

"Yeah, well, we live here. Unlike you, who ghosts the entire apartment complex like we're the problem," Juwon replied, arms crossed.

Jiah smiled tightly. "We starting with the insults or the thesis statement?"

Haejoon dramatically whispered to Jeongjae, "Oh this is better than cable."

-

They cracked open their books and laptops, sitting awkwardly across from each other on the living room floor.

"I think we should focus on the symbolism of isolation in the poem." Jiah stated.

"Of course you do. That's your whole thing." Juwon said.

Jiah raised an eyebrow. "You want to do some cliché love theme instead?"

Juwon scoffed. "Love themes are relatable. You know, emotions? Human connection?"

"Pass."

They bickered. Endlessly. About fonts. Slide transitions. Who would read the introduction. At one point, Juwon insisted on using a cursive title slide and Jiah responded, deadpan, "It's a poem, not a wedding invitation."

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Haejoon whispered "Should we stop them?"

"They need this. It's growth." Jeongjae states.

"I think they might just kill each other while they are at it."

-

Midway through their study session, Juwon got up to refill their tea. As she passed by the hallway near the kitchen, she paused. There was a quiet voice—low, soft, almost too gentle to belong to the girl who'd been sniping back all evening.

It was Jiah, on the phone.

"...No, I'm fine. I'm eating, studying. I'm not alone... I promise."

Her voice trembled slightly—just for a second. But it was there, a crack in the icy calm she usually wore like armor.

"...I'll call you tomorrow. Please tell him I'm okay. And tell him not to worry."

Juwon froze, half-hidden by the wall. There was a long silence on Jiah's end, just quiet listening, then a tired little sigh.

"...I miss you, too."

That was the one that hit hardest. Soft, aching. Real.

When Jiah turned around a few seconds later, startled to find Juwon standing there, her expression shifted quickly—defenses back up, like the moment hadn't just happened. But Juwon wasn't smirking or mocking. She just handed over the tea silently.

"...Heeseung?" she asked, not in a snide tone, but a neutral one—curious.

Jiah gave the smallest nod. "Yeah."

Juwon didn't push. She just nodded back and returned to the table.

Jiah followed after a moment and quietly sat down across from her.

"...Thanks," she said, barely above a whisper.

Juwon gave her a sideways glance. "You know, for someone who's so closed off, you're kinda bad at hiding when something's wrong."

Jiah rolled her eyes softly, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "That supposed to be a compliment?"

"Dunno," Juwon shrugged. "Just saying... you don't have to pretend all the time. At least not here."

There was a small silence as Jiah looked down at her tea.

Then she glanced back up. "...Where's Jungwon?"

The question made Juwon raise a brow, caught a little off guard. "Why?"

"No reason," Jiah replied a little too quickly.

Juwon smirked knowingly. "He's out with his project partner. Some girl from the other class. They went to the library together."

"...Oh."

"Oh," Juwon mimicked teasingly, raising an eyebrow. "Why, do you miss him already?"

Jiah rolled her eyes again, turning her face away to hide the warmth creeping into her cheeks. "I just asked."

"Mhm. Sure."

But there was no bite in the teasing anymore. It was... warm.

-

It was almost 9PM when their presentation finally started looking... amazing.

Juwon stared at the screen. "Okay, wait. This slide is actually genius."

Jiah blinked. "You like something I made?"

"I know. I'm scared, too."

They both laughed, the tension lifting slightly. Juwon leaned back, twirling a pen.

"...Why are you like this?" she asked. "All closed off."

Jiah didn't look up. "It's easier that way."

"From what? People? Emotions? Your neighbors?"

Jiah's voice was low. "Everything."

Pause.

"...You know," Juwon said softly, "I thought I hated you."

"Yeah. I noticed."

"But now I think I just... didn't understand you. Or maybe I didn't want to."

Jiah met her gaze. "Why now?"

"I don't know," Juwon shrugged. "You let me yell at you without throwing a book, so that's a start."

That got a smile out of Jiah. Not her usual polite one, but a real one—small and soft.

-

As Jiah packed up to leave, Jeongjae handed her a wrapped container. "For the road. Haejoon made brownies."

"I live two floors above you..there no road- wait, did you just say Haejoon baked?" Jiah asked, genuinely surprised.

Haejoon hearing that, responded from the kitchen "I contain multitudes!"

"Hey," Juwon said, scratching the back of her neck. "If you ever want to... hang out. You know. Without the presentation stuff. You can."

"Yeah..." Jiah smiled faintly. "I think I'll like that."

-

The next day, as they were getting their presentation files in order, a girl sitting near the back leaned over to her friend and whispered—just loud enough to be heard—

"Ugh, she's so annoying. She thinks that being cold is so cool. Guess it is the new trend."

Jiah heard it. So did Juwon.

Without looking up, Juwon said clearly, "You know she's right here, right?"

The girl blinked. "What?"

"I said," Juwon repeated, calm but cutting, "if you're going to talk trash, at least have the guts to say it to her face. Or better yet, maybe worry about your own slides—didn't yours still have clip art?"

A few students snickered. The whisperer shrank back into her seat.

The classroom went awkwardly quiet, but Juwon just clicked through their shared PowerPoint like nothing happened.

Jiah stared at her, surprised.

Juwon didn't look back, but her voice was low when she said, "You're my partner now. I don't let people talk about my partner like that."

It was casual. Like it wasn't a big deal.

But to Jiah—it kind of was.

Chapter Text

Two weeks had passed since that night of awkward cake, quiet rooftop talks, and a borrowed hoodie.

Flashback

It was during one of those random late evenings. Jiah had dropped by the second floor for dinner — something that had become a new norm, surprisingly. Afterward, while the others were off arguing over what movie to watch, she had stepped outside onto the balcony to get some air.

She didn't expect Jungwon to follow her out.

"It's freezing," he said, holding his soda can with one hand and draping his hoodie over her shoulders with the other before she could even reply.

"I'm fine," Jiah muttered, but didn't give it back.

"Uh-huh. Your arms were crossed like you were about to hex the cold."

She gave him a look. He just grinned and leaned on the railing beside her.

They didn't talk much after that. Just stood there quietly — shoulder to shoulder, the moon hanging low, and the wind a little less biting with the borrowed warmth. Jiah hadn't meant to keep the hoodie. But when she went upstairs later that night, she realized she still had it on.

She never gave it back.

And Jungwon never asked.

-

Jiah found herself spending more and more time on the second floor. Sometimes it was to borrow ingredients for her failed attempts at cooking. Sometimes it was because she got dragged down by Juwon under the excuse of "You need human interaction and also, I made too much kimchi stew."

But most of the time... she didn't mind being there.

Juwon and Jiah had somehow become actual friends. Real ones. The kind who bickered about which ramen brand was superior and stayed up way too late watching mystery dramas. The kind who laughed about inside jokes no one else understood. Juwon no longer looked at her like an enemy. She looked at her like a sister.

And Jungwon?

Well.

Jiah wasn't sure what to call that.

They hadn't talked about the hoodie. Or the rooftop. Or the way her heart sped up whenever he looked at her for too long. But they shared glances now, subtle ones that lingered. Quiet moments. Playful teasing. There was something there. Something neither of them was brave enough to name.

But someone else noticed.

"Let's go to the beach this Saturday!" Juwon announced brightly over dinner one night, casually eating from Jiah's bowl instead of her own.

Everyone looked up.

"You mean all of us?" Haejoon asked, mouth half full.

"Yup. Everyone. You, me, Dal Sanha, Jiah, Jungwon. We'll bring food, play music, touch some grass."

"Isn't it gonna rain?" Sanha asked suspiciously.

"Nope, weather app says sunny. So don't flake. Okay? Promise?"

Everyone nodded. Even Jiah, a little surprised, but kind of looking forward to it.

-

The beach was quiet when Jiah and Jungwon finally met up — a soft breeze weaving through the air, the waves kissing the shore in a lazy rhythm. At first, neither of them questioned why no one else had shown up. They walked side by side, shoes in hand, letting the cold sand squish between their toes.

But halfway through their walk, Jiah paused. "...Wait. Where is everyone?"

Jungwon blinked. "You're right. Where is everyone?"

Cue a buzz on their phones.

♡♡♡♡♡

Haejoon: Sorry, coach just texted me saying that I have extra practice today so I can't make it.

Sanha: Emergency tutoring. Next time!

Juwon: Dal and I got caught up. You two have fun though! 💗

Jiah stared at the screen. "She planned this."

Jungwon smirked. "Oh, definitely."

Jiah laughed. "You're not surprised?"

He shrugged. "I think she's rooting for us."

Jiah gave him a look. "There's no 'us' to root for."

Jungwon stopped walking and looked at her, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Not yet."

Her breath caught for half a second. "Don't flirt."

"I'm not flirting," he said, inching closer. "I'm just stating facts."

They stared at each other, the tension buzzing between them like static.

"You're so annoying," Jiah muttered, looking away.

Their eyes met for a moment, and it was too quiet for it to not be a little awkward.

"Wanna pretend we didn't fall for the world's most obvious setup?" he offered casually.

Jiah snorted. "Only if you promise not to get weird about it."

"No promises."

-

They ended up buying overpriced snacks from a beachside stall and sitting down on a picnic blanket Jungwon had brought — "just in case," he said, smug. They played rock-paper-scissors to decide who'd go get drinks. Jiah lost. Twice.

"Do you cheat at this?" she asked when she returned, handing him a soda.

"I don't cheat. I manifest," Jungwon said, opening the can dramatically.

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling now — the kind of smile she rarely let herself show. She didn't notice it, but Jungwon did. He stared a moment too long, then quickly looked away.

They wandered around the boardwalk, shared a mango ice cream, and bickered over whether or not to feed the seagulls. (Jiah voted no. Jungwon fed them anyway and got chased. She filmed it.)

Later, they walked along the water, and Jungwon teased her by pretending to push her in. She shrieked and shoved him back. They laughed too loud, chased each other a little, and ended up sitting by the shore again, panting and soaked halfway up their calves.

"You've got sand in your hair," he said, reaching out gently.

Jiah froze as his fingers brushed her hair.

"There you go," he said softly, hand lingering just a second too long.

Their eyes met — close, a little breathless, and a little too much for a second.

She looked away first, heart thumping stupidly.

"You're doing that on purpose," she muttered.

"What?" he grinned.

"That whole... teasing, flirty thing. You're doing it on purpose."

Jungwon raised a brow. "Would it bother you if I was?"

"Depends," she said, not meeting his eyes, "on if you're serious."

He didn't answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head, gaze still on her.

"Depends," he echoed, "on if you want me to be."

And Jiah hated — hated — that her heart fluttered right then. Hated even more that she didn't say anything. She just looked at the ocean and let the silence stretch with the sound of waves filling the gaps.

They sat there until the sun began to set — orange and pink bleeding into the sky.

And when they finally stood to leave, Jungwon offered his hand to help her up.

She didn't need it.

But she took it anyway.

-

Later that night, Juwon sat on her bed with Dal, scrolling through a video Sanha had secretly recorded of Jungwon and Jiah walking side-by-side, coming back home.

"They're so in love," Juwon said dramatically.

Dal sighed. "You need a hobby."

Chapter Text

Two weeks ago, Jiah would've said she was doing fine.

She had her walls up, her routines in check, her part-time job as an excuse to keep her distance. But somewhere along the line—between rooftop stargazing, awkward dinner nights, Sanha's reluctant side-eyes, and Jungwon's teasing smile—things had changed. Not in a loud, obvious way. It was slow. Like soft water carving through stone.

And now she found herself... okay.

Better than okay, actually.

Until today.

-

Jay leaned against his car like he owned the building. He didn't fit the setting at all—his charcoal coat was tailored, his shirt sharp, his cologne expensive. His brows were furrowed as he glanced down at his phone for the fifth time. Still no answer.

The girl who used to pick up his calls in one ring had vanished into silence.

Just then, the sound of footsteps caught his attention.

Jungwon turned the corner with a plastic bag in hand, eyes immediately narrowing when he saw the stranger in front of the building. And the car.

Yeah. This guy wasn't from around here.

Jungwon stopped a few feet away. "You lost?"

Jay looked up, face unreadable. "I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

"Jiah. Do you know her?"

Jungwon's grip on the bag tightened slightly. "Why?"

Jay arched a brow. "You live here?"

"Yeah."

"Then answer the question."

"You answer mine first," Jungwon shot back. "Who are you?"

Jay stared at him, then slowly pushed off the car, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve. "I'm her brother."

Jungwon blinked. "Brother?"

"Yes."

"...Are you sure?"

Jay's eye twitched. "Am I sure that I'm her brother?"

"I'm just saying," Jungwon shrugged, "you don't really look like her."

Jay sighed. "And you don't look like someone who should be this protective."

"Someone has to be," Jungwon said bluntly.

There was a beat of silence. Then, unexpectedly, Jay smirked. "Huh."

"What?"

"You like her."

"What?"

Jay shrugged. "It's obvious. You looked like you were about to body slam me."

Jungwon coughed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Jay grinned wider. "You're not subtle, kid."

"JUNGWON—look at this cute keychain I got—"

Juwon's voice cut short as she caught sight of the handsome stranger next to her brother. Haejoon slowed down beside her. Jiah was a few steps behind them, scrolling through her phone.

And then she froze.

She looked up. And her heart dropped.

"...Jay?"

Jay turned.

"Jiah."

She dropped everything she was holding and sprinted toward him.

Juwon blinked. "Who the hell is that?"

Haejoon whispered, "Ex-boyfriend?"

Jungwon's eyes never left the pair. "That's her brother."

"...Oh," Juwon said, still watching the hug. "Wait, the Jay? As in Jay Jay?"

"Apparently."

Jay held Jiah tightly. "Why weren't you picking up your phone?"

"I didn't think you'd actually come," she whispered. "You said—"

"I know what I said," he muttered. "Plans changed."

"Is something wrong?"

Jay sighed. "Let's go upstairs."

-

The walls were still the same. The bed was still tiny. The shelf still crooked. Jay looked around the small, simple apartment, and something bitter twisted in his chest.

"You seriously live like this?" he said finally.

Jiah laughed. "Oh my god, don't be dramatic."

"I'm not. You're a literal princess. What are you doing eating convenience store ramen?"

"Enjoying freedom," she said with a small smile. "You should try it sometime."

Jay didn't smile back. He sat down, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't come to fight."

"Then why are you here?"

Jay hesitated. Then he looked at her, serious. "Mom and Dad are planning something."

Jiah went still. "What kind of something?"

"They're meeting families. Talking about business connections. Setting dates."

"Jay—"

"They're planning to get you engaged."

She couldn't breathe for a second. Her heart dropped like an anchor in her chest.

"I don't know who. They're being vague. But it's serious."

Jiah's voice cracked. "They disowned me."

"I thought so too."

"Why would they want me back now?"

"Because now you're useful again," Jay said bitterly. "You've always just been a pawn to them."

Jiah stood up, pacing. "No. No, this isn't happening."

"I came to warn you," Jay said quietly. "Because if they track you down again—"

"I'm not going back."

"I know."

"I can't go back."

"You won't," Jay promised. "I won't let them."

Her eyes stung. "You'll get in trouble."

"I don't care."

She sat down beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I hate them."

"I know."

-

Jay had left. He couldn't say for long. He wanted to, but he was bound to leave. He couldn't let them find out that he was here.

She didn't want to cry again. She was so tired of crying. But the rooftop was the only place where she could breathe, even when it hurt.

She wasn't expecting company.

"Again?" Juwon said softly, sitting up from her spot. She was bundled in a blanket, sipping hot chocolate. Sanha and Jungwon were there too, playing some card game.

Jiah gave them a small, watery smile. "Can I join?"

Jungwon stood immediately, pulling over a stool. "Of course."

"Something wrong?" Juwon asked gently.

Jiah hesitated. Then, slowly, she sat down.

"I want to tell you guys something."

The air shifted.

She took a deep breath. "My parents kicked me out. That's why I'm here. That's why I've been... the way I've been."

They didn't interrupt.

"They're not strict," she continued. "They're controlling. They tried to shape every second of my life. And when I said no... they cut me off."

Juwon's face softened. "Oh, Jiah..."

"But today," Jiah swallowed, "Jay came. And he said... they're trying to get me engaged, and I don't even know who."

"WHAT?!" Jungwon exploded. "Are you serious?!"

Sanha blinked slowly. "This is why I don't talk to adults."

"They can't do that," Juwon said. "They can't just decide your life for you!"

Jiah looked down. "Apparently they can."

"Like hell they can," Jungwon growled. "They try anything, and I'll—"

"Jungwon," she said quietly.

He stopped pacing.

She looked at all of them. "Thank you. For being here."

Juwon pulled her into a hug. "You're not alone."

Sanha muttered something and handed her a juice box.

And Jungwon, slowly, sat beside her. His hand found hers under the blanket.

He didn't say anything.

But she felt it anyway.

And this time, for the first time in a long time, she let herself feel safe, even if it was just for a brief moment. Because she knew. She knew all hell was about to break down.

Chapter Text

It had only been a few days since Jay's unexpected visit, but for Jungwon, those days felt like a countdown clock ticking louder and louder.

He was on edge.
On high alert.
On protective-boyfriend-mode—even though they weren't official.

But the moment Jiah confessed everything on that rooftop—the abuse, the exile, the looming engagement—something inside him clicked.
This wasn't just about his feelings anymore.
This was about keeping her safe.

Jungwon now waited at her door every morning, leaning against the hallway wall like a bodyguard in a school uniform.

Jiah opened her door, sleepy and confused. "You're here again?"

"You work today," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"I can walk myself, you know."

"I know. But I'm still coming."

Jiah sighed, brushing her bangs from her face. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," he repeated, looking her right in the eyes. "But I want to."

And just like that—she couldn't argue.

-

He Watched. Everything.

He knew the car models of every resident in the area.
He flinched every time someone rang the doorbell.
He scanned the street every time Jiah stepped out of the apartment building.

At one point, he even installed a free tracking app on her phone under the excuse of "in case you get lost coming back from work or school."

"You're literally insane," Jiah told him with a huff, but her cheeks were pink.

"Better insane than careless," he replied.

-

And of course—Haejoon noticed.

One night as Jungwon sat near the window, glaring at a suspicious-looking van that turned out to be delivering fried chicken, Haejoon strolled past and said:

"Relax, Romeo, she's just going to buy tteokbokki."

Jungwon didn't even blink. "They're not taking her. Not again."

Haejoon paused. Blinked.
"...Damn."

-

It was Juwon who called it.

"We're doing this," she announced, hands on her hips. "Operation: Save Jiah is now in session."

They sat on the living room floor of the 2nd-floor apartment, legs crossed like kids in a secret club.

Sanha brought chips, soda, and ppushu-ppushu ramen crumbs.
Haejoon was lounging but listening.
Juwon had a whiteboard.
Jungwon was pacing.

And Jiah?

She sat in the corner, stunned.

"Wait—you're all serious?"

"Dead serious," said Juwon, writing Plan A: Disappear Into the Woods on the board before crossing it out. "Okay maybe not that."

Sanha munched a chip. "Plan B: Pretend Jiah doesn't live here."

"Plan C: She becomes my fake girlfriend. That always works." Haejoon said, sipping on his drink.

"NO." shouted everyone in unison, maybe Jungwon a little louder than others.

Jungwon turned sharply. "Plan D: They come, I break their kneecaps."

Juwon rolling her eyes said "Please calm down."

But Jiah just... stared at them.

These people—these once-strangers—were planning a war just for her.

"Why are you guys doing this?" she whispered.

Silence.

Then Sanha shrugged. "You live here."

Haejoon raised a brow. "You're part of the chaos now. No take-backs."

Juwon gave her a gentle smile. "Because you're not alone anymore."

And Jungwon stopped pacing long enough to kneel in front of her.

"They don't get to hurt you again," he said. "Not while we're here."

Tears slipped down her cheeks.
But this time—it wasn't from fear.

-

Jiah stood on the rooftop again, this time leaning on the railing, the breeze brushing against her skin.

Footsteps behind her.
She didn't have to look. She knew.

Jungwon joined her side, quiet at first.

Then,

"I meant it, you know," he said.

She glanced at him. "Which part?"

"All of it." He looked at her like she was something fragile and rare. "But especially the part where I'd break kneecaps for you."

Jiah laughed, nose scrunching. "You're an idiot."

"Your idiot," he whispered, then paused.

She blinked. "What?"

He looked down, then back at her. "I know it's not the right time. I know there's so much going on. But I need you to know—I like you. Like, a lot."

She froze.

"And I don't care how messy life gets. I want to be here. With you. For you. Whenever you let me."

She opened her mouth—words halfway out—

Then her voice broke. "Jungwon..."

He turned, brows slightly furrowed, like he didn't want her to say something that would make him have to back away. But instead—

"I'm scared," she whispered.

He exhaled like he'd been holding that same fear in his own chest. "Me too."

She looked up at him, eyes glassy but not from sadness this time—just full. Full of everything she hadn't let herself feel until now.

"I don't know how to let someone stay," she admitted. "I'm not used to people wanting to."

Jungwon gently reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, fingers barely grazing her cheek. His touch was warm. Solid. Steady.

"I'm not people," he said quietly. "I'm me. And I'm not going anywhere."

Jiah's lips parted. "What if I mess it up?"

"Then we'll mess it up together...You make me nervous." He smiled slightly. "Like, my-heart's-been-doing-backflips nervous since that first time you let me sit next to you at lunch."

"You stole my tangerine."

"I asked politely."

"You didn't."

"...Okay fine I didn't. But you smiled. That was enough for me."

Jiah tried to hide her grin behind her sleeve. "You're such a dork."

"I know," he said, gaze locking onto hers. "But I'm your dork, if you'll have me."

She looked at him for a long second. Like she was memorizing every line of his face. Like she was waiting to see if this moment was real.

Then she did something unexpected—
She reached up and flicked his forehead.

He winced. "Ow—what the hell—?"

"You're too smooth," she muttered, turning away so he wouldn't see her smile.

He grinned. "You love it."

"Don't push it."

"I confessed, I deserve at least one push."

"You confessed and compared yourself to a kneecap-breaking maniac."

"And yet, here you are."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

She turned toward him again—eyes shining, cheeks flushed.

They were standing too close now. One more step and there'd be no space left between them.

"Jungwon," she whispered.

He leaned in just a little. "Yeah?"

"...Don't go."

And just like that—

The door to her heart opened a little wider.

He stepped just a little closer, gently tilting his head. "You don't have to say anything. I didn't tell you because I expected something back. I just wanted you to know."

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign of a joke, a catch, something that would make this feel less terrifying. But all she saw was sincerity.

Warmth.

Hope.

Her lips quirked into the tiniest smile. "You're brave."

"I'm stupid," he muttered. "But thanks."

A beat of silence passed between them—soft, charged, almost too much.

Then—

She nudged him with her shoulder. "You gonna keep staring or are you gonna help me sneak leftover ice cream from Haejoon's freezer?"

Jungwon grinned. "Wow. That's the most romantic thing anyone's ever said to me."

"No promises I'll share."

"I confessed my love. I think I deserve at least one bite."

"I'll consider it."

They headed back toward the stairs, side by side, their arms just barely brushing.

And as they reached the rooftop door, Jungwon glanced down at her and said, quietly—

"So... does this mean I can hold your hand next time?"

Jiah didn't look at him. But her fingers brushed his.

Lightly.

Deliberately.

She didn't pull away.

Jungwon smiled.

Chapter Text

The building was quiet, almost too quiet for a Saturday night. Outside, the sky was bruised navy, stars barely visible behind the city haze. Jiah rolled over in bed for the twelfth time, her hoodie pulled halfway over her face, eyes locked on the ceiling like it had answers.

"I like you. Like a lot."

Ugh.

She groaned into her sleeve.

That rooftop confession had been stuck in her brain like a catchy chorus she couldn't skip. She hadn't answered him. Not really. And the longer she stayed silent, the louder the weight of it pressed on her chest.

Finally, she gave up pretending she could sleep.

Jiah crept down the stairs in her slippers, hoodie sleeves covering her hands, hair messy. She needed something sweet. Something to distract her. Or someone to talk to.

So here she was standing in front of her 2nd floor neighbour's door, typing in the passcode to the door.

The soft light from the kitchen spilled into the hallway, and she paused.

Weird. Had someone forgotten to turn it off?

She peeked inside—then stopped dead in her tracks.

Jungwon. Sitting on the floor. Fridge open. Fork in hand. Mid-bite into a slice of cake.

He looked up at her, caught red-handed, lips already curved into that annoyingly perfect smile.

"You're kidding," she said flatly.

"Late-night emotional eating," he said with zero shame, patting the floor next to him. "Join me."

"I—" she hesitated, then sighed. "Fine."

Jiah padded over and sat beside him, pulling the fridge door closed gently so the light wouldn't blind them. He held out the cake without a word, and she accepted it, grabbing a clean fork.

"Didn't peg you for a fridge-sitter," she mumbled.

"I contain multitudes," he replied, and she couldn't help but laugh.

They ate in silence for a while, the kind that wasn't awkward—just warm. Familiar. Like neither of them needed to fill the space with words because the quiet said enough.

Jungwon looked at her, head tilted, cake container now resting on his lap.

"You looked happy today," he said softly.

She blinked. "Huh?"

"Earlier. When you were talking to Juwon and throwing grapes at Haejoon. You looked happy." He gave a small smile. "I like seeing you like that."

Her breath caught.

She looked away, cheeks warming. "You can't say stuff like that."

"Why not?"

"Because..." she hesitated, staring at her fork. "It makes me want to kiss you."

The words slipped out before she could stop them.

Silence.

She immediately wished she could dig a hole through the floor and vanish.

But then—he put the cake down slowly. And leaned closer.

"So do it," he said, voice quiet but steady.

She turned toward him, heart thumping.

His eyes searched hers—not demanding, just... waiting. Letting her choose.

"Jungwon..." she whispered, unsure if she was warning him or herself.

"I meant everything I said," he murmured. "And I'm not asking you to be anything you're not ready to be. I just want you to know... I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

His gaze dipped to her lips. "But if you kiss me right now, I won't complain."

Jiah laughed, nervous and breathless. "You're so annoying."

"Yours, though?" he teased.

And that was it.

She leaned in and kissed him.

It started soft. Tentative. Her lips brushed his like a question, barely there—almost like she was testing the weight of what this meant. Jungwon didn't move at first, letting her lead, letting her know it was okay to take her time.

But when she lingered, pressing just a little more, he responded. Gently. Carefully.

His hand found the side of her neck, warm and steady, thumb grazing just under her jaw like he was anchoring her to the moment. Like he was making sure she didn't float away.

Jiah's fingers clutched the hem of his hoodie, knuckles tight against his stomach. She tugged him a little closer without meaning to, and he went, no hesitation. His knee bumped into hers as he shifted, body curling instinctively around her like he didn't know how not to.

And then she accidentally bumped his nose.

Jungwon laughed—soft and breathless—into her lips.

Jiah pulled back just enough to stare at him, face hot. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," he grinned.

"You thought it."

He tilted his head, still smiling, and nudged her nose with his in a playful eskimo kiss. "You're cute when you panic."

She groaned, but he was already leaning in again—this time slower, more sure.

Their second kiss melted the awkward edges. His other hand slid across her waist, tentative at first, but then resting gently against her lower back. Not pulling—just there, just present. Like a quiet promise: I've got you.

Jiah relaxed into him without thinking, her hand now splayed across his chest, feeling the fast thud of his heart beneath his hoodie. He felt real. Warm. Here.

Their lips moved in sync, small and careful and sweet, but there was something simmering underneath it too. Something a little electric. Something that made Jiah's stomach flip.

She pulled away again, breath caught somewhere between her ribs and her throat.

Jungwon was watching her—eyes wide, lashes soft, lips parted.

"I think my heart just exploded," she whispered.

Jungwon let out a shaky laugh. "Same."

He reached up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a moment too long.

"You okay?" he asked, voice quieter now.

She nodded, smiling like an idiot. "I think I'm gonna pass out."

"Fair," he said. "But if you do, please fall away from the fridge. I don't want your head denting the kimchi."

"Jungwon."

"Just saying."

They laughed—giddy, breathless, a little stunned. He leaned back slightly but didn't let go of her. His fingers were still brushing her waist, absentmindedly tracing the fabric of her hoodie like he hadn't even realized he was doing it.

She looked at him, flushed and happy and more confused than ever.

And when he whispered, "Still your idiot?"
She just whispered back, "Definitely."

Chapter Text

The rooftop felt different in the daylight.

Maybe it was because the stars were gone, or maybe it was because of what had happened under them. Jiah kept replaying Jungwon's voice in her head, the way his eyes held onto hers like she was the only person in the universe. It didn't feel real. None of it did.

And yet, her heart wouldn't shut up.

She pulled on her hoodie and headed downstairs to the 2nd floor.

The door opened before she could knock.

Jungwon. Sleep-tousled hair. Hoodie half-zipped. Barefoot. He blinked like he'd just woken up but had been waiting for her anyway.

"Hey," he said, voice low and warm.

"Hey," she echoed, suddenly unsure of how to stand, how to breathe, how to exist.

He stepped aside to let her in. Their hands brushed—just barely—but it was enough to make her pulse quicken.

They sat at the kitchen table. The others hadn't woken up yet. It was just them and the quiet clinking of mugs as Jungwon poured two cups of tea like it was routine. Like this was normal. Like they hadn't stood on a rooftop last night with the world burning behind them and something soft growing between them.

Or kissed in front of the fridge when neither of them could find the words.

Her fingers curled around the mug. Warm. Familiar. Still not enough to calm her.

"So..." he started, eyes on the steam rising between them. "About last night."

She looked at him carefully. "What about it?"

His lip tugged into a soft smile, the kind he wore when he was trying not to be obvious. "Are you planning on pretending that didn't happen? 'Cause I gotta warn you—I'm terrible at pretending."

Jiah's throat tightened. "I'm not pretending."

"Oh?" He leaned forward, elbows on the table. "Then what are you doing?"

She opened her mouth. Closed it again. She hated how flustered he made her.

"I'm... processing," she said finally.

He grinned. "That's fair. Should I just sit here and look pretty while you do that?"

She threw a sugar packet at him.

Jungwon laughed, catching it midair. "No, but seriously. I was thinking about it, you know... the kiss."

She blinked. "The what?"

His smile turned slow. Intentionally smug. "You don't remember?"

Jiah's face turned scarlet. "I—of course I remember, you moron."
She buried her face in her hands. "We kissed."

"I thought it was romantic," Jungwon teased, reaching over and gently tugging one of her hands away from her face. "All dim lighting, heart-pounding tension... very cinematic."

She groaned. "You're literally the worst."

"You kissed me first," he reminded her.

Her head shot up. "I—you kissed me back!"

He shrugged, looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. "Would've kissed you first, too, if you gave me half a second."

She glared at him, cheeks still burning. "You're enjoying this too much."

He tilted his head, tone softening just enough. "Only because it mattered."

Jiah froze.

Her chest tightened. He wasn't teasing now. He was serious. And maybe that's what scared her the most.

"So what does that make us?" she asked quietly.

He tilted his head like he was studying her.

"I don't know," he said. "You tell me."

Her lips twitched. "You're annoying."

"But charming," he added, leaning closer.

Jiah stared at him. "I haven't even said I like you back yet."

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. "No, but your eyes did."

She scoffed. "Stop flirting."

"I'm not flirting. I'm being honest."
He leaned back and added casually, "Besides, I already figured I was your type."

She blinked. "You're literally not."

"Oh?" His foot nudged hers under the table. "Then why did you hold my hand last night? Why did you kiss me?"

Jiah turned bright red again.

"You're evil," she muttered, sipping her tea aggressively.

He smiled like she just proved his point.

They sat like that for a while—comfortably quiet, stupidly soft. Until footsteps thumped upstairs and the spell broke.

-

The walk to school was... weird.

In the good way.

In the "oh my god did we actually kiss last night" kind of way.

Jiah kept her eyes on the sidewalk, pretending the pink in her cheeks was just from the morning breeze. But Jungwon? He was annoyingly smug—grinning to himself, swinging both their bags over one shoulder like the absolute menace he was.

"You're quiet," he said casually.

"I'm thinking," she replied, tone flat.

"Thinking about last night?" he asked, leaning in, lips brushing her ear like a secret.

She elbowed him. "You're literally insane."

"You're not denying it, though."

She rolled her eyes but didn't push him away.

They ended up sitting next to each other, obviously. It wasn't a seating arrangement thing—more like a silent decision, a gravitational pull. As class dragged on, their shoulders bumped occasionally. Their knees brushed under the desk once. Twice. Five times.

The sixth time, Jiah didn't pull away.

Jungwon, the absolute menace, slipped her a folded piece of paper without looking.

She unfolded it beneath the desk.

"Wanna kiss again or are you still 'processing'?
Check yes ☐
Check no ☐
P.S. I'm very patient. (But not that patient.) "

She bit her lip to keep from laughing and quickly scribbled back:

"Keep this up and I'm spilling your lunch tray on purpose."

She passed it back.

He read it. Smirked. Then dramatically clutched his heart like she had mortally wounded him. Jiah smacked his arm with her pen, but her smile gave her away.

-

The gang sat together at their usual table, minus Haejoon today (apparently had to stay behind for basketball practice—tragic).

Jungwon kept stealing fries from Jiah's tray like it was his god-given right. She was about to stab him with her chopsticks when—

"Can I ask something?" Juwon said suddenly.

Both Jiah and Jungwon looked up.

Juwon had her arms crossed, one brow raised, all older-sister authority mode activated.

Jiah blinked. "Uh. Sure?"

She leaned across the table. "Are you and my brother... like... a thing now?"

Jiah immediately choked on her water. Jungwon froze, mid-bite.

"We're not— I mean—he just—" Jiah stammered.

"Relax." Juwon popped a fry in her mouth, clearly enjoying the chaos. "I'm not mad. Yet."

"Yet?" Jungwon asked, frowning.

"I'm just saying," she said, locking eyes with Jiah, "if you're gonna be in his life... don't hurt him."

Jiah's lips parted. It wasn't a threat—it was a soft reminder. Of how much they all cared for each other here. How much she was starting to be a part of this weird, messy, loving little group.

"I won't," Jiah said quietly. "I promise."

Juwon smiled and tossed a grape at Jungwon's head.

-

After school, they walked home slowly.

Jiah's shoelace came undone halfway there, and before she even noticed, Jungwon was already kneeling down to tie it.

She blinked. "I can do that—"

"I got it." His fingers worked fast, gentle. He didn't look up until he was done. When he did, he didn't move.

Still kneeling, still holding the loop of her laces, he stared at her like she held the sun behind her eyes.

"You sure you don't wanna just say yes?" he said quietly. "Make this official already?"

Jiah's heart did things. She wanted to say yes. She almost did.

Instead, she smacked his shoulder lightly and stepped back, cheeks on fire.

"Try again tomorrow," she said, walking ahead.

Jungwon stood there, watching her go, absolutely grinning.

"I will," he called out. "Every day, if I have to."

-

Later that afternoon, the house was full of life again.

Jiah and Juwon were chopping vegetables in the kitchen while Haejoon argued with Sanha about whether or not he could cook eggs properly.

And Jiah?

Jiah kept spacing out.

Juwon noticed. Of course she did.

"You're slicing cucumbers like they just broke your heart," she said, eyeing the sad little pile.

Jiah blinked. "Sorry. I just... was thinking."

Juwon smirked. "About Jungwon?"

Jiah dropped the knife.

"Oh my god." Juwon beamed. "You were!"

"Shut up."

"You like him. So you guys actually are officially a thing!"

"I never said that!"

"You didn't have to. Your soul left your body when I said his name."

Meanwhile, in the living room,

"You've been humming for ten minutes. That's weird. You don't hum, you straight up sing." Haejoon said.

"People change."

"People don't change overnight. Unless they fall in *love—*oh my god, you fell in love."

Jungwon rolled his eyes. "I didn't fall in love."

"You confessed to Jiah on the rooftop under the stars."

Jungwon paused. "...Okay maybe a little- WAIT how did you know?"

-

Dinner was chaos.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Sanha questioned, side-eying Jiah.

"I'm literally not."

"You literally look like you just got proposed to."

"She basically did!" Juwon whispered, maybe a bit too loudly.

Jiah kicked her under the table.

Jungwon casually refilled Jiah's rice bowl. Haejoon narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, what's going on?"

"Nothing," they both said, at the exact same time.

"Liars."

-

After dinner, Jiah stood and grabbed her hoodie. "I'm going to the convenience store."

"I'll come with you," Jungwon said immediately.

"I'll be fine."

"Yeah, and I'll be five feet behind you, just in case."

She sighed. "You're impossible."

But she didn't stop him from joining her.

The night air was cool. Their hands brushed. Neither of them pulled away.

When they reached the store, a flirty cashier perked up at Jiah's arrival.

"Haven't seen you around here before."

"She's been here. With me." Jungwon responded.

The cashier raised an eyebrow. Jungwon raised his eyebrows back. Jiah, completely over it, dragged him by the sleeve toward the snack aisle.

"Jealous much?" she teased.

"I don't like creeps."

"Jealous," she repeated, smirking.

"Maybe a little," he muttered.

On the way back, their fingers brushed again. This time, Jiah laced them together.

They walked in silence.

Until,

"So... does this mean I'm your boyfriend?"

She glanced at him sideways. "Do you want to be?"

He looked down at their intertwined hands. Smiled.

"I already am."

Chapter Text

Jungwon was lying on the floor of his room, arms spread out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers. His phone buzzed on the nightstand.

Jay.

He sat up instantly, tension already crawling down his spine. He picked up.

"Hello?"

Jay's voice was tight. "Hey. You got a second?"

"Yeah, what's going on?"

A pause.

Then—

"I just found out who my parents are planning to have Jiah engaged to."

Jungwon's heart dropped. He sat upright, already fearing the worst. "Who?"

Jay hesitated. "Heeseung."

Silence.

Jungwon didn't move. He didn't even breathe. For a second, he thought maybe he'd misheard—but no. Jay had said it. Heeseung.

His voice came out hoarse. "What... what do you mean?"

Jay sighed on the other end, like he'd been holding this in all day. "It's not about her. It never is, with them. They don't care what she wants."

"Then why Heeseung?"

"Because his family," Jay said bluntly. "Old money. Powerful contacts. My parents have been trying to get closer to them for years. If they can tie the families together with a marriage, it's basically a done deal. It's business to them—Jiah's just a pawn in their game."

Jungwon's jaw clenched. "That's insane."

Jay exhaled sharply. "Heeseung didn't know either. He just found out today. He called me, freaking out. Said he'd never agree to it, not like this. Especially not without Jiah's say in it."

Jungwon said nothing. His fingers tightened around the edge of his blanket.

Jay lowered his voice. "I wanted to tell you first. Because... I know how this hits you."

Jungwon shut his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even.

"I saw it when I visited," Jay added. "The way you looked at her. Like she was yours already. That's why I gave you my number, remember? I had a feeling this might blow up one day, and I didn't want to leave you in the dark."

Jungwon stayed silent for a moment.

"Thanks."

But the word felt empty. Because nothing—nothing—about this felt okay.

[FLASHBACK – The Day Jay Visited Jiah]

As Jay was leaving, he caught Jungwon lingering awkwardly by the stairs.

"Hey," Jay said, stopping him. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

They stood outside, near the gate.

"I don't know what's going on between you and my sister," Jay began, hands in his coat pockets, "but... you look at her like you'd fight the world for her."

Jungwon flushed. "I—she's important to me."

Jay gave him a long, unreadable look. Then he pulled out his phone. "Give me your number. Just in case."

[PRESENT]

Now, that "just in case" was happening.

-

Sanha slammed his soda can on the table. "HEESEUNG?!"

"Keep your voice down," Juwon hissed.

They were all gathered again on the 2nd floor. A 'family meeting,' though this time, nobody was teasing or snacking. The air was tense.

Jungwon sat on the edge of the couch, head in his hands. Haejoon leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Even he wasn't joking.

"She didn't even know," Jungwon muttered. "Neither did Jay or Heeseung."

"So what happens now?" Sanha asked. "They can't actually make her go through with this, right?"

Nobody answered.

-

That evening, Jiah didn't show up at dinner.

Haejoon kept checking his phone, tapping it against the table with an anxious rhythm. "She said she'd be home by six, right?"

Sanha frowned. "It's almost eight."

Juwon had already tried calling twice. Both went straight to voicemail.

"Maybe her phone died?" Haejoon offered, but even he didn't sound convinced.

Jungwon wasn't speaking. He just stared at the uneaten plate of food in front of him, lips pressed into a hard line, fingers curling into fists in his lap.

Another minute passed. No message. No sign of her upstairs. No café update.

Juwon's phone buzzed—everyone jumped—but it was just a weather alert.

Jungwon stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loud against the floor. "She's gone," he said, voice tight. "Something's wrong."

Haejoon rose too. "Gone where?"

Jungwon was already heading for the door. "I don't know. But she wouldn't just disappear."

Panic started to settle in everyone's chest like heavy fog.

They split up. Jungwon and Haejoon checked the café, even asked around if anyone had seen her there that day. The barista said she hadn't shown up for her shift.

Juwon and Sanha went to the park, then the bus stops near the station. Nothing.

They regrouped at the convenience store near the apartment—the one Jiah liked to go to when she wanted snacks or space.

"She's not here either," Juwon muttered, breath short. "Where could she have gone?"

Jungwon stared at the empty sidewalk, mind racing. His heart pounded with every second she wasn't found.

"She wouldn't just leave," he whispered. "Not without saying something."

Not unless something—or someone—forced her.

-

The black car that pulled up to the estate gleamed like a threat. Its windows were tinted, the driver dressed in a black uniform, gloves pristine as he opened the back door.

Jiah stepped out first, heels clicking against the marble driveway, a soft rustle following as her silk dress shifted with her movements. It was off-shoulder, deep wine red, cinched at the waist, elegant and expensive—too expensive for a girl who'd been tossed out of her own home just months ago. Her hair was styled back by her mother's request, revealing the sharp lines of her jaw and the bruising truth in her eyes.

She looked flawless.

She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Heeseung stepped out behind her.

He was dressed in a dark navy suit, tie perfectly knotted, shoes polished. His hair was styled slightly back, with few strands of his fair falling to his forehead—he looked like a young CEO straight out of a magazine. His face was unreadable, but when his eyes met hers, Jiah saw it—the silent apology.

They were led inside by a butler, where soft classical music played in the distance. The air was scented with expensive cologne and cold wealth. A chandelier hung above the dining room, casting a golden glow over everything, but it did nothing to warm the tension.

Jiah's parents sat at the head of the long table. Across from them were Heeseung's mother and father—her mother in a black velvet dress, her father already sipping from a wine glass, looking disinterested but present.

Jiah was guided to sit between her parents. Heeseung was across from her, beside his own.

No one said a word at first. Silverware clinked gently against porcelain as soup was served, untouched.

Then her mother finally spoke, voice smooth like venom in honey.
"So, the engagement will take place next month."

Jiah's fork clattered against her plate. Her throat tightened.

"A formal announcement will be made in a few days," her mother added without flinching.

Jiah looked at her, then her father—who didn't even glance at her.
"I—I thought I was disowned."

Her father didn't blink. "Plans change."

Heeseung shifted uncomfortably. "Mr. and Mrs. Park, with all due respect, I wasn't told anything about this either."

His mother placed a hand over his. "We wanted it to be a surprise, darling. The opportunity came up again and... well, it's perfect timing, isn't it?"

"Perfect for what?" Jiah snapped, voice barely above a whisper but shaking with rage.

Her mother's smile tightened. "The Lee family has agreed to a merger. Our companies will benefit greatly. Your union will be symbolic—two legacies intertwining."

"Like I'm some product to be exchanged?" she said.

Her father set down his fork. "Watch your tone."

"I've been gone for months. You threw me out. You didn't call. You didn't even care if I was alive—and now you want to parade me like some perfect daughter for a press release?"

Heeseung sat straighter. "Look, if Jiah's not okay with this, I'm not going along with it either."

His father shot him a sharp glance. "This isn't about personal feelings."

"Yes, it is," Jiah said, voice rising. "Because you don't get to erase everything just because it's convenient now."

Her mother leaned in slowly. "You will do what is best for our family."

Jiah's hand trembled under the table. She clenched it into a fist in her lap.

Heeseung saw it.

He reached beneath the table, fingers brushing hers. She tensed, but didn't pull away. It was the only warmth in the room.

-

After Dinner

The adults lingered in the lounge, glasses in hand, talking business like nothing had happened.

Heeseung led Jiah out onto the balcony, the cool air biting against her skin. She crossed her arms.

"I didn't know," he said again. "I swear, Jiah."

"I know," she said softly. "You looked just as shocked."

He hesitated, then added, "If I'd known... if I'd even suspected... I never would've come near this deal."

She nodded, eyes distant. "It's not about you, Heeseung. I just... I thought I was free. I really thought I got out."

He leaned against the stone railing. "Do you want me to say no?"

"I don't want you to get caught in this mess."

He scoffed. "Too late. I'm already in it. Jay didn't know either, by the way. He's pissed."

They were silent for a while, watching the distant skyline. Then Heeseung spoke again.

"You like him, don't you?"

She looked over. "Who?"

He gave her a pointed look.

She didn't deny it.

He smiled, sad and warm. "Then don't let them win."

She blinked. "What?"

"Whatever they're planning, don't let them make you forget who you are. You've fought so hard to be free. Don't let them shove you back into a cage."

Her throat tightened again, but this time it wasn't just fear.

It was love.

Love in all its forms. In friendship. In defiance. In standing your ground.

She hugged Heeseung tight. "Thank you."

He hugged her back just as fiercely. "Now go. I think someone's waiting for you."

-

The door to the 2nd floor apartment opened with a soft creak.

Jungwon looked up from where he sat on the floor.

It was her.

Still in the same dress she wore to dinner. Eyes rimmed red, hair tousled. She looked at him—and said nothing.

He stood immediately. "Jiah—"

She walked straight into his room without a word. He followed.

She turned around. "We should stop."

He blinked. "What?"

"This... us," she said, voice cracking. "It's better if we're just friends."

Jungwon looked at her like she'd stabbed him. "Why?"

"Because I'm scared. Because this thing with Heeseung and my parents... It's too much. And I can't drag you into it."

"Too late," he said quietly.

She stared at him.

He stepped closer. "It's too late, Jiah. I already chose you."

Her breath hitched.

"I chose you when you handed me an umbrella. When you brought me strawberry milk. When you looked like the world was ending and still tried to smile." His voice cracked. "I chose you, and I don't want to go back."

Jiah's eyes brimmed. She tried to speak—but he was already reaching for her.

His hands cupped her face, gently, like he was afraid she'd disappear.

Her breath caught. Her hands gripped his hoodie tightly.

And then—

He kissed her.

Slow. Steady. Not rushed or wild, but real—the kind of kiss that said you're safe here, I'm not going anywhere.

When they pulled apart, foreheads resting together, Jiah whispered, "What are we going to do?"

Jungwon breathed, "Whatever it takes."

Chapter Text

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the night outside. Jiah hadn't moved since the kiss. Neither had Jungwon. They were still inches apart, his fingers lingering lightly at her waist like he was afraid to let her go.

She whispered, "You shouldn't have done that."

He blinked, not moving. "But I wanted to."

And for once... she didn't want to fight that.

They stood there, still caught in the thick air between what had just happened and what it all meant. Then Jiah exhaled and pulled away, gently — not out of rejection, but the weight of reality was heavy on her shoulders again.

"We can't stay here."

Jungwon leaned back against the wall, brows furrowed. "Then where do we go?"

A pause.

She hesitated. Then sat on the edge of his bed, fiddling with the hem of her sleeve. "I can't keep pretending this is fine. My parents... they're serious. That dinner wasn't a bluff."

"I know," Jungwon said softly, joining her. "Jay told me. He said it's like... a contract to them. Heeseung's family is filthy rich, right? The whole thing is practically a business merger."

Jiah let out a shaky laugh. "Imagine being the prize in someone's business deal."

"You're not a prize." Jungwon's voice was sharp — not at her, but for her. "You're a person. And you deserve to make your own decisions."

She glanced at him. "Even if those decisions are stupid?"

He smiled faintly. "Especially then."

That got a tiny laugh out of her.

There was a beat of silence. Then Jiah whispered, "I want to run away."

Jungwon turned to face her. "Okay."

She blinked. "What?"

"I said okay." His eyes didn't waver. "If that's what you want, we'll make a plan."

Her breath caught.

He wasn't saying "don't do it." He wasn't telling her it was impossible. He was in. Fully, completely in.

"You're crazy," she said softly.

"Maybe." His voice gentled. "But you wouldn't be doing this alone."

They stayed like that, knees barely touching, hearts beating just a little faster in a shared rhythm.

-

Later That Night...

They moved to the rooftop. It was empty tonight — almost like it knew they needed the space.

Jiah was sitting on the ledge, hoodie wrapped tight around her, and Jungwon sat beside her, legs dangling off the edge.

"Alright," she said, eyes scanning the stars. "Let's be delusional for a second. What if I did leave?"

"Then you'd need a fake ID, maybe a place to crash."

"I've got some savings. From the café and Jay."

"I have more," Jungwon offered. "We can pool it."

She looked at him. "You'd really do all that?"

He nodded. "For you? Yeah."

Silence.

Then she murmured, "We could go to Busan."

"Or Daegu. Rent's cheaper."

They giggled.

"You realize we sound like we're planning a heist?" she teased.

Jungwon smirked. "Escape plans are kind of romantic."

That shut her up for a second.

Then she softly asked, "Would you really leave everything behind?"

He turned to her, gaze steady. "If it meant you'd be safe? Happier?" His voice was low. "Then yeah. No question."

Their eyes met again. This time, the air wasn't so quiet.

It was charged.

Jiah's fingers reached for his hand on instinct, lacing through it slowly. He looked down, then up at her again, something soft and endless in his gaze.

"You terrify me," she whispered.

He smiled. "Good. Keeps things interesting."

They both laughed — tired, breathless, real.

Then her smile faded. "I don't want to keep running."

"Then don't," he whispered. "Let's walk through it. Together."

She turned to him, her forehead resting against his. Their hands stayed joined.

It was like a silent vow.

A shared promise.

And under the night sky, they stayed like that — not planning how to run anymore, but how to fight.

Chapter Text

The classroom was alive with the usual end-of-day chaos—chairs scraping against the floor, students laughing over inside jokes, the buzz of hushed gossip, and the rustle of notebooks being shoved into bags.

But Jiah didn't hear any of it.

She sat in the far corner by the window, her face half-lit by the pale afternoon sunlight. One hand cradled her cheek, the other idly twirling the edge of her pencil. Her notebook lay open in front of her, a blank page daring her to write something... anything.

But she couldn't. Her mind wasn't here.

It was trapped between memory and future—a mess of what-ifs and consequences, like a storm she couldn't step out of.

Her gaze drifted toward the front of the classroom where Jungwon stood, leaning casually against a desk. He was laughing, his entire body relaxing with each breath. The dimple in his cheek peeked out when one of the boys nudged him and he responded with that crooked, boyish smile.

He was wearing the blue hoodie she always liked on him—the one with the slightly too-long sleeves that made him look younger, softer. His hair was messy from gym class. His laughter was light.

He looked happy.
Unbothered.
Free.

And that was when it hit her.

A slow, aching realization that climbed from her chest and pressed against her throat.

If they ran away—if she dared to ask him to leave with her—he would lose all of this.

His school, where he had finally found his place.

His father, who waited every evening to eat dinner together.

His sister, Juwon, who had only just come back into his life after ten years apart.

His home, where he could walk barefoot across warm floors, where he belonged.

And it wasn't just about leaving. It was about hiding. Running. Looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.

She knew her parents. They wouldn't stop until they dragged her back. They would track Jungwon down too. They would find him and ruin him, just for touching the life they so carefully curated.

Jiah clenched her hands together under the desk. Her nails dug into her palms, grounding her. Her heart was pounding—not from panic, but from grief.

The grief of knowing she couldn't be selfish.

Because this wasn't a romance novel where love conquered all.

This was her reality, and in it, love meant sacrifice.

Her lips trembled as she looked down at her notebook again. The page remained blank.

She blinked hard, forcing the tears back. She wouldn't cry here. Not where he could see her. Not where anyone could.

Jiah raised her eyes once more, just in time to see Jungwon's friends tug him toward the hallway. He laughed again, waving to someone, his voice echoing faintly.

He didn't see her watching.

But maybe that was better.

Because in that moment—while the world spun on and her own was falling apart—she realized something else.

She loved him.

God, she loved him.

And she couldn't do this to him.

-

The day dragged on, period after period bleeding into one another like a blurred painting. Jiah floated through it, her body present but her mind... miles away.

In the library, her eyes skimmed pages she never really read. She sat by the window again, watching raindrops begin to gather against the glass, tapping softly like whispers of the thoughts she couldn't escape.

A chair scraped beside her.

She barely flinched.

"You okay?"
It was Haejoon.

He tilted his head, studying her face with those thoughtful eyes of his.

"Yeah," she said. It was the easiest lie to tell these days.

"You sure? You're doing that whole 'pretending to be okay while staring into the void' thing again." He leaned closer, resting his chin on his palm, half smiling.

She returned the smile—small and tired. "Just tired."

He didn't push. He just nodded, accepting the lie, even though he didn't believe it.

-

By the time the final bell rang, the halls erupted with noise—lockers slamming, students yelling across the corridor, sneakers squeaking against tile.

Jiah stayed seated.

The classroom had mostly emptied. Her backpack sat untouched beside her. Her notebook was still open to the same blank page.

Only now... her thoughts had shifted.

Heeseung.

What would happen to him?

If she refused this engagement—if she rebelled—the media would find out. The public would start digging. They would spin headlines like wildfire, speculating why she turned him down.

They wouldn't say it was her fault.
No—they would blame him.

"Did she find out something about him?"
"Was he not good enough?"
"Did he do something to her?"

Heeseung, with his quiet strength and soft teasing. Heeseung, who had always protected her even when she didn't ask. He didn't deserve that.

He came from a family with reputation thicker than blood. This would stain everything.

And she couldn't let that happen.

She couldn't ruin two lives to save her own.

She closed her notebook slowly, like sealing away the last piece of herself.

In that moment, something in her hardened. Resigned. She knew what she had to do.

She would protect them both.

Even if it meant burning everything she ever wanted...

"Earth to Jiah?"

The voice tugged her from the edge of her thoughts. She looked up, startled.

Juwon was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, brows raised. "You coming? Bell rang like five minutes ago."

Jiah blinked. "Right. Sorry."

She stood, slipping her notebook into her bag like it was just another object—when in reality, it felt like she was burying a piece of her soul.

As they walked through the hallway, Jiah slipped back into her mask.

She laughed when Juwon teased her. She nodded when classmates waved goodbye. She smiled so easily it made her sick.

But inside?

Inside, she was crumbling.

Every step she took felt heavier. Every breath felt forced.

Because no one could know.

No one could see the war she was fighting—the one she had already lost. The decision had been made. And the worst part? No one would even know that it was a decision. That she had chosen pain so others wouldn't have to.

-

That night, she stared at her ceiling in silence. The world outside moved on. The streetlights buzzed faintly. Somewhere, a dog barked.

But in Jiah's world, time had stopped.

And all she could think about was that classroom. That blue hoodie. That boy with the smile.

That boy she loved.

And the love she had chosen to bury.

Chapter Text

It started with Haejoon.

He wasn't the type to sit still and watch things crumble, especially when it came to people he cared about—even if they were difficult, cold, or wore fake smiles like armor.

Jiah had been smiling too much lately. Too brightly. Too often.

And it was driving him crazy.

He found her on the rooftop after school, sitting on the edge bench with a drink in hand, eyes staring at the horizon like she could see the future if she squinted hard enough.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know," Haejoon said, walking over with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.

Jiah blinked. "What?"

He stopped a few feet in front of her, sighing. "This thing you're doing. Smiling like your world isn't falling apart."

She laughed softly, eyes back on the skyline. "It's better than crying all the time."

"That's not you," Haejoon said. "That's not the girl who told me to stop throwing paper planes at her door. That's not the girl who snapped at Sanha like he kicked her dog."

Her lips twitched. "I'm just... tired."

"No. You're pretending." His voice was sharper now. "You're trying to make this easier for us, but what about you? Huh? What about what you want?"

She didn't respond. The silence made him clench his jaw.

"You think we'd be better off if you left. If you gave in. But we're not. I'm not. Jungwon sure as hell isn't. And if you think Heeseung will be happy watching you waste away beside him, then you really don't know your 'fiancé' at all."

Her eyes watered. Just slightly. But she blinked it away before he could catch it properly.

"I'm doing what I have to."

Haejoon stepped closer, kneeling in front of her. His voice dropped to a whisper. "No. You're doing what you think will save everyone. But you're not a fire escape, Jiah. You're not a sacrifice."

She looked down at him, finally—really looked.

And for the first time in days, her smile cracked.

-

Jungwon's POV

He should've known something was wrong when she started sitting farther from him in class.

It was small at first. Her desk angled slightly away. A few seconds late when he waited for her by the lockers. Laughing louder at things that weren't funny.

And then... she stopped texting first.

He didn't want to overthink it. He hated overthinking. But the pit in his stomach had only grown deeper since.

She had kissed him. She had chosen him.

So why did it feel like she was slipping through his fingers?

That afternoon, as he walked past the classroom, he saw her talking to Juwon. Jiah smiled at something she said—and Jungwon's heart twisted. Because he could see it now. The hollow behind her eyes.

She was hurting, and she wasn't telling him.

He stood in the hallway, frozen, until Haejoon brushed past and muttered, "She's planning something."

And that's when it hit Jungwon,

She was preparing to leave.

-

It was late when Heeseung arrived.

The knock on the 4th floor door was polite. Gentle.

But Jiah's stomach twisted when she opened it.

Heeseung stood there in a charcoal overcoat, black turtleneck beneath, tailored slacks, and his usual expensive shoes that probably cost more than her rent. His hair was pushed back neatly, jaw tense, eyes flickering with quiet regret.

"Hey," he said softly.

Jiah stepped aside without a word.

He walked in, glancing around like he was memorizing her space. Like it was the last time he'd see her here.

"You didn't tell them yet?" he asked, once the door closed.

She shook her head.

Heeseung let out a breath. "Jiah... they'll find out eventually."

"I know." Her voice was small.

He walked over to the kitchen, hands on the counter, back turned to her.

"My mom said the media will probably catch wind soon. They're planning to announce the engagement within the week."

Jiah swallowed hard. "And I'm expected to move to Seoul?"

He turned, finally. "Tonight."

Her breath hitched.

"They said it'll be temporary. Just until the announcement is settled, the preparations begin. Your mom's already waiting at the estate." He paused. "I didn't know they'd move this fast."

Jiah sat down. "It's okay."

Heeseung walked over and crouched beside her like Haejoon had earlier.

"But it's not. I didn't ask for this. You didn't either. If I had known sooner..."

She shook her head. "You're not the villain here."

A beat passed.

Heeseung reached out, gently taking her hand. "Then tell me—do you still want to run?"

She looked at him, eyes wide.

"If you do," he continued, "say the word, and I'll help you. I'll get you out."

Her heart shattered.

She pulled her hand back slowly. "I can't. I already made my choice."

Heeseung nodded, slowly standing up. "Then I'll take you to Seoul."

-

Back on the 2nd floor

Jungwon was pacing his room, unable to focus. Something was wrong. His chest ached.

Then Sanha burst through the door, panting. "She's gone."

Jungwon froze. "What?"

"Jiah. I saw Heeseung. He picked her up."

Jungwon bolted to the 4th floor. Knocked once. Twice. No answer.

He let himself in. It was dark.

Empty.

A single note lay on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Jiah stood by the window of the guest room in the sprawling Seoul estate, dressed in soft beige loungewear that clung gently to her frame. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, her chin lifted—but her eyes betrayed the storm beneath.

From here, she could see the gates—tall, black, unmovable. Cold steel, glinting under the late afternoon sun like a prison cell dressed in riches.

The perfect metaphor.

It had been two days since she left.

Two days since she looked into Jungwon's eyes and walked away anyway.

Her parents called it a "cooling-off period."

She called it punishment.

-

Meanwhile, Few Hours Earlier.

Jungwon wasn't listening in class. He hadn't been, really, since the moment Jiah left.

His notebook was blank.

So were his eyes.

It wasn't until he overheard Juwon on the phone—her voice sharp, emotional—that something clicked.

He wasn't even trying to eavesdrop. But when she said, "She's staying in her family's Seoul estate. Near the old art museum," his heart stopped.

That was all he needed.

He went home. Stuffed some clothes in his backpack. Didn't even change out of his uniform.

He texted Juwon once.

"I'm going to get her back. Don't try to stop me."

She didn't reply, but five minutes later, she sent him the gate code.

-

The train ride to Seoul felt endless.

Jungwon sat by the window, knees bouncing, his uniform shirt half-buttoned, his tie stuffed into his bag. His hair had gone messy from running across platforms. He was barely breathing.

He tried to rehearse what he would say.

None of it sounded right.

He just knew one thing: he couldn't let her go without fighting.

When he got off the train, Seoul air hit him like a memory.

Loud. Busy. Alive.

None of it mattered.

He took a cab straight to the estate—he knew the area, remembered it vaguely from school trips and history lessons. The estate stood tall, encased in white walls and black gates. There were guards at the front.

And Jungwon had no plan.

He stood across the street, backpack slung over one shoulder, heart pounding. Then he crossed, bold and sure, despite his lungs screaming otherwise.

The guard stopped him immediately. "This is private property."

"I'm here to see someone," he said. Calm. But his fingers clenched tight.

"Name?"

"Jiah."

The guard scoffed. "Miss Jiah doesn't take visitors."

Jungwon opened his phone. Showed him a message from Juwon. The guard hesitated.

Then, finally, with a quiet mutter into his earpiece, the gate clicked open.

Jungwon walked in like it was a battlefield.

The guest wing was tucked into the farthest corner of the estate, past marbled corridors and ornate glass chandeliers. He heard footsteps, voices from the kitchen.

But he didn't stop.

He found her door like his heart was drawn to it.

And when it opened—

There she was.

Standing at the window. Light spilling across her like something divine. Soft beige against the gold trim of the room. Bare feet on polished floors.

When she turned, her eyes went wide.

"Jungwon?"

He stood in the doorway, chest heaving, wind-wild hair falling into his eyes, the silver button of his school uniform clinging on by a thread. His backpack hung lazily from one shoulder. He looked furious. And broken.

She backed up a step. "How—how did you find me?"

He didn't answer.

Instead, he stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and whispered,

"Why did you leave?"

She looked away. "You shouldn't be here."

"You're going to have to do better than that," he said, jaw clenched.

She swallowed. Turned back to the window. "It was the right thing to do."

"No," he said sharply. "It wasn't."

He stepped closer. "You didn't even say goodbye. You left like none of it mattered. Like I didn't matter."

Her lips trembled. But she pressed them shut. "It's better this way."

"For who?" he snapped. "Not for me. You left and took everything with you. My mornings. My nights. Every time I close my eyes, it's you. You, Jiah. And you just... vanished."

Tears welled in her eyes, blurring the moonlight outside.

"You'll be fine," she said softly. "You'll move on."

"I don't want to move on," he said, voice cracking. "I want you."

She looked at him, finally, and something inside her shattered.

"I'm not yours to want," she whispered. "Not anymore."

He stared at her like she'd just broken him open.

And then, slowly—like his soul was being torn in two—he said it,

"Tell me you don't love me."

Jiah froze.

"Say it," Jungwon begged. "If you say it, I'll leave. I'll let you go. Just... say it."

The silence was deafening.

Say it. Just say it.

She opened her mouth.

And then—barely, barely—she whispered,

"I don't love you."

It was a lie.

A trembling, breathless, shattered lie.

But she said it.

Jungwon's face didn't move. Not really. Just his eyes. Just the way they dimmed.

He nodded slowly. "Okay."

Then he turned and walked out.

The door closed behind him with a soft click.

Jiah didn't breathe.

She stood frozen for a moment, then collapsed onto the sofa, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped around herself.

Her world had just walked out.

And she let it.

Because she loved him too much to let him stay.

And now he'd never know.

-

Jungwon stood outside under the long, stone archway at the edge of the estate, fists buried deep in the pockets of his worn gray hoodie. His backpack slouched at his feet, half-zipped, like him—undone. The sharp Seoul air bit into his skin, but he didn't flinch. Not even once. The ache inside him was louder than the cold.

Jungwon haden't left beucase Jiah said she doesn't love him. Jungwon knew better. He knew it was a lie.

But he still left. Left to figure out how to get his Jiah out of this mess.

The night sky above the estate was pitch black, dotted with stars that didn't offer comfort—just distance. The kind that made you feel small.

Then came footsteps. Calm. Steady. Too familiar.

Jungwon didn't need to look up to know who it was.

"Didn't think I'd find you here," Heeseung's voice broke the silence, cool and measured.

He stood a few steps away, dressed in a long black coat that hugged his tall frame, a navy scarf wrapped perfectly around his neck. He looked like he belonged here. Like he always had. His shoes didn't crunch against the gravel the same way Jungwon's did—his presence didn't ask permission.

Heeseung looked at Jungwon like he had for months- gently, but with a question behind his eyes. A quiet warning.

Jungwon didn't move. "You knew?"

Heeseung exhaled, stuffing his gloved hands into his pockets. "Not until after she left," he said. "Jay told me."

The wind blew between them. Cold and weightless. They stood like statues on opposite ends of the same pain.

There was a long pause. No one said anything.

Then Heeseung added quietly, almost as if confessing to himself, "If I had known sooner, I never would've agreed to any of this. I would try to stop it even before it began."

Jungwon's fingers clenched in his hoodie pockets. He still wouldn't look at him. "Doesn't matter," he muttered, jaw tight. "She's yours now, right?"

Heeseung flinched like he'd been hit.

"She's not something to have," he said, softer now. "No one owns her. Not even me."

Jungwon finally looked up.

His eyes were red, not just from the wind. He blinked slowly, like even that hurt.

"She's pretending, you know," he said. "She's trying to protect everyone. You. Me. Even her damn parents. But she's not okay."

Heeseung didn't argue. "I know."

Jungwon's voice cracked when he asked, "Then why are you letting her do this?"

Heeseung looked away, up at the estate—at the cold lights flickering from her window. "Because she begged me to."

And there it was.

The same girl. Two hearts. One impossible choice.

"You love her, don't you? You pretend that she is just like a younger sister to you, but no. You love her." Jungwon said with a trembling voice.

It wasn't a question.

Heeseung was quiet. Then nodded once. "Yeah. I do."

Jungwon bit the inside of his cheek. His voice was a whisper. "So do I."

The silence that followed was worse than shouting. It was full of everything they weren't saying.

The ache. The jealousy. The shared grief of loving someone who chose to break herself to save you.

Heeseung stepped back first.

"I'll walk you to the gate," he offered, but Jungwon shook his head.

"No," he said. "I'm not ready to leave her yet."

Heeseung gave a quiet nod, then turned and walked away, his footsteps fading down the stone path.

Jungwon stayed.

Because if she was going to be a ghost in his life—he wanted to hold onto her shadow just a little longer.

-

She stormed through the marble halls like she owned the place—which she absolutely didn't—but no one dared stop her.

"Where is she?" she barked at the housekeeper.

Ten minutes later, she was in Jiah's room.

"You don't get to do this," Juwon snapped the second she saw her.

Jiah, sitting on the bed, looked up in surprise. "Juwon—what—"

After receiving Jungwon's message, Juwon couldn't hold herself in anymore. She had to go see Jiah as well. She had to go see her best frined.

"You don't get to act like a martyr. You don't get to walk away from people who love you and act like it's noble."

Jiah blinked back tears. "It wasn't about me—"

"No," Juwon interrupted. "Exactly. It was never about you. Not your happiness. Not your dreams. Always someone else's. Well, guess what? You're allowed to choose yourself."

Jiah shook her head. "You don't understand—"

"Maybe I don't," Juwon admitted, voice softening. "But I saw what you were like with him. I saw how he looked at you. And I saw how you looked at him. That kind of thing doesn't come around twice."

Jiah bit her lip so hard she tasted blood.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Then she broke.

Collapsed into Juwon's arms, sobbing silently as the older girl held her tight.

-

Jungwon's voice lingered in the room long after he was gone.

"How could you leave me?"

Jiah sat frozen on the bed, fingers clenched in the folds of her sweater. The air felt heavy, thick with all the words she couldn't say. The ones that had stuck to the back of her throat when he stood there, waiting. Pleading.

Juwon had also left. She had to before anyone else saw her.

Jiah's heart beat wildly inside her chest, but her face remained still—numb, almost.

How could she answer that?

How could she explain that every step away from him felt like ripping her own soul out?

That every smile she gave Heeseung, every nod to her parents, every time she said "I'm fine," she was lying so thoroughly she could barely tell what was real anymore?

She stared at the closed door, hoping—praying—he'd come back.

He didn't.

The silence screamed.

And all at once, the walls began to cave in.

She curled into herself, shaking silently, pressing her fist to her lips to keep from sobbing out loud. Her lungs burned. Her throat tightened. But she couldn't cry—not fully. Not like she did in Juwon's arms earlier. This was different.

This was grief.

Because Jungwon wasn't just the boy she loved.

He was the boy who made her believe, even for a moment, that she was allowed to have something for herself. Someone.

He was the first thing she had ever wanted.

And she let him go.

Not because she stopped loving him.

But because she loved him too much.

She turned her face to the pillow, blinking through the tears that finally fell, and whispered into the silence:

"I'm sorry."

But he wasn't there to hear it.

And maybe he never would be again.

Chapter Text

Jiah sat in the quiet of her room, her hands trembling as they held the cream-colored envelope. The gold trim around the edges shimmered under the dim light of the desk lamp. The envelope was embossed with intricate patterns, a symbol of wealth and expectations, something she had grown all too familiar with.

Her name. Her parents' names. His name. His family name. The date. The place.

The ink seemed to blur as she blinked, her vision swimming.

She didn't need to read it to know what it said. She had seen this day coming. Yet, here she was, holding it as if it had just landed from another world. Her world. One she had tried to outrun, but it had caught up to her.

Her eyes burned, but no tears fell. Not yet. She couldn't allow them. Not when she couldn't even figure out what she felt anymore.

The words of the invitation were clear:
"Park Jiwoo [Jiah] & Lee Heeseung—Engagement Celebration, Saturday, 7:00 PM, The Grand Ballroom."

It was happening. They were forcing her to do it. A life she didn't choose, a path she didn't want.

She crushed the paper in her hands, the golden edges now crinkled and faintly wrinkled. But even in her fury, it was nothing compared to the heartache.

The door creaked open softly, and Jiah turned, still holding the invitation. It was Heeseung. As usual, his face was calm, like a peaceful sea hiding the storm inside.

"I came to check on you," Heeseung said, his voice as warm as always. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer immediately. She just stared at him, fighting to keep her face neutral, to not show the weight she was carrying. Heeseung didn't press her, stepping inside, his eyes scanning the room.

"Whatever you choose, Jiah... make it for yourself," he said softly, his tone so understanding that it hurt.

She blinked, but no words came. Heeseung noticed the crumpled invitation in her hand and his lips twisted into a small, sad smile. "You'll do what's best, I'm sure," he said quietly.

Without another word, Heeseung reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key. "Take it," he said, handing it to her.

Jiah stared at it, her heart pounding. "What is this?"

"A car key," Heeseung answered. "I promised to give you a way out. The car is waiting outside. If you need to go, if you need to run, just drive. No one will stop you. And don't worry about what's going to happen here. I got this under my control. Trust me Jiah. Live your life."

Heeseung's eyes were tired. He wasn't trying to guilt her. He was letting her choose. He didn't want to make things harder than they already were.

And then, as silently as he came, he turned and left. But not before giving her one last glance. A look of pain, of love—unspoken but clear.

Jiah didn't see it, though. She was already lost in her thoughts, her fingers clenching the key.

The door clicked shut, and Jiah sat back against the wall, her legs folding beneath her. And then, the tears came. Uncontrollable, shaking sobs. It was as if the dam inside her had finally cracked.

She had done her best to keep it all inside. To hold everything together, for Heeseung, for her parents, for the life they expected her to live. But now, with the invitation still crumpled in her hand, the weight of it all crashed over her like a flood.

She thought of Jungwon—his smile, his laughter, the way he had held her close when everything felt like it was falling apart. She thought of their quiet moments, their shared secrets, their promise that they would somehow make it work.

"You don't get to choose for me," he had said.

She could still feel the warmth of his embrace, but it only made the distance between them feel even greater.

She grabbed her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed his number, but it went to voicemail.

Her heart clenched.

-

Flashback

She was in the café. The cold winter air outside. Jungwon sitting across from her, staring at the paper in his hand, the pen poised, but never quite touching it.

"I'm writing this because if I don't, I'll regret it forever," he had said. "I know you're scared, but if there's even a chance, Jiah... a chance for you to be mine... I'll wait for you. A hundred years if I have to. But I'll be here. Waiting. Just please... don't let this be the end."

Present Moment

She hadn't read the letter. She couldn't. She'd kept it hidden, not because she didn't care, but because the weight of his words terrified her. The thought of him waiting. Of choosing him when she was already tethered to a fate she couldn't escape.

But now, as the weight of the invitation pressed down on her, she realized that perhaps she didn't have a choice at all.

-

The day arrived with a chilling certainty. The grand ballroom sparkled with elegance, the lights too bright, the people too perfect. Jiah stood in front of the mirror, dressed in an ivory gown. Her makeup was flawless. Her hair, pinned just right.

But she felt hollow. Beautiful on the outside, but empty inside.

She glanced at the clock. Heeseung would be waiting for her, his expression unreadable. She didn't want this. None of it. But it was too late to turn back now.

Her heart, once so sure of Jungwon, now felt frozen.

The moment came. Her name was called. The soft music filled the air.

But Jiah stood there. Not moving. Her eyes were glued to the floor as her breath quickened.

The door to the ballroom was just there, and for the first time, she could feel the world outside. It beckoned her. Freedom.

She looked at herself in the mirror once more.

And then, she made a choice.

She turned away. The heels in her hand, Heeseung left behind.

Every light outside blurred as she ran. The car, waiting just like Heeseung promised, was parked in the driveway. The engine roared to life as she stepped inside.

The world outside was a blur, but her heart was steady. She was scared. Terrified. But she couldn't go back. She couldn't live this life.

-

Jungwon was at the rooftop again. He had told himself not to wait, not to expect her to show up, but when he saw the moon rise, he couldn't help it.

He sat there, looking at the stars, knowing deep down that Jiah would never come.

Then, he heard footsteps.

He didn't turn around. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to stay still.

And then, he heard it.

"You're still bad at hiding."

He whipped around, his breath catching in his throat.

Jiah was standing there. Barefoot. In the same ivory dress. Her hair wild, her face flushed, but her eyes... so full of him.

Tears filled his eyes, and before he could speak, she rushed into his arms, wrapping herself around him like she had never let go.

"Jiah..." he whispered, his voice trembling.

"I'm home," she whispered back, her voice full of emotion.

Jungwon cupped her face, his hands shaking. "Tell me this is real."

Jiah looked up at him, her heart racing. "This is me choosing you," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

And then, without another word, their lips met. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't shy. It was everything they had held back, every moment of longing, of fear, of hope, poured into that kiss.

And as they pulled away, Jiah whispered again, her voice barely audible, "No more running. I'm home."

Chapter Text

The tiny feet came first—slapping excitedly against the wooden floor. Then came the wild squeals.

"Appaaaaa!! Uncle Jayyyy!!"

A blur of black curls and mismatched socks raced down the hallway like a rocket, clutching something shiny in his chubby little hands.

Jungwon turned from the kitchen with a grin, wiping frosting off his fingers just in time to catch the blur in his arms.

"You're not supposed to be here yet, minion," he laughed, lifting the four-year-old effortlessly. "Mommy will see!"

"But I made this!" Joon announced proudly, showing off a glitter-covered birthday card with a huge pink heart that looked like it had been chewed on. "For Mommy!"

Jay walked over, ruffling Joon's hair. "She's gonna cry, huh?"

"Like a lot," Sanha added from the couch, balancing an armful of streamers.

Dal and Haejoon emerged from the hallway, still bickering over candle placements.

"She likes pink, not purple," Haejoon insisted, already re-arranging them.

"And I like your face, but I don't see anyone decorating that," Dal retorted.

"Okay but—wait, you do?"

Dal snorted and shoved him toward the table.

The apartment was full of chaos and laughter and frosting and flowers. All of it for one person.

Jiah.

It was her 28th birthday.

She'd left the house a few hours ago with Juwon, unaware of the chaos waiting for her. She thought she was just grabbing coffee and catching up with her best friend. She had no idea that her entire little world had been conspiring behind her back to give her a day she wouldn't forget.

Jay pulled Jungwon aside while the others decorated.
"You ready?" he asked.

Jungwon looked down at his son—their son—now occupied with placing stickers on Haejoon's jeans. He smiled.

"Yeah," he said. "For everything."

Jay leaned against the counter. "You did good, Jungwon."

Because ten years ago, this had been impossible.

Ten years ago, it was nothing but pain, silence, heartbreak, and sacrifice.

But somehow, somehow, they made it.

And her parents? They'd fought. Hard. But eventually, they gave in.

They saw Jiah's happiness.

They saw the little boy who lit up every room.

And they stopped fighting.

They didn't love it, didn't celebrate it. But they accepted it.

And that was enough.

-

The door opened.

Jiah stepped in with a coffee in one hand and sunglasses sliding down her nose. "Why are the lights off—?"

"SURPRISE!!"

The room exploded in confetti, streamers flying, people cheering. Balloons bounced in the air, candles flickered, and a giant banner with her name in glitter hung crookedly on the wall.

Jiah froze, eyes wide.
"What—how—?"

And then her baby ran to her, card in hand. "Happy birthday, Mommyyyy!"

She dropped her coffee immediately, catching him in her arms, burying her face into his curls. "Oh my god—" she gasped, already tearing up. "You guys—what is all this?"

"You're turning old," Haejoon offered.

"Twenty-eight's the new twenty," Dal said, looping an arm around her.

Juwon smirked, handing her a tissue. "We missed the drama, so we settled for cake this year."

Everyone laughed, but Jiah's eyes scanned the room, heart full—and then—

"Hey."

Her breath caught.

She turned to see someone new at the door.

Heeseung.

Older now. Taller, still. But his smile? Gentle. The same.

Jiah blinked in surprise. "You came?"

"I wasn't going to," he said. "But Jay told me... you might want to see me."

She moved toward him slowly, memories crashing like waves. "I didn't know if I'd ever get to thank you," she whispered.

Heeseung looked away for a moment, then met her eyes. "You don't have to."

"I want to," she said. "You were... always kind. Even when it hurt."

He gave her a soft smile. "I only ever wanted you happy."

"Are you?" she asked.

He hesitated. Then nodded. "Working on it."

And with that, he gave her a gentle hug, let her go, and turned to help light the candles in the cake.

-

Later that night, after everyone had eaten too much and Joon had passed out halfway through singing a song about dinosaurs, Jiah sat beside Jungwon on their tiny rooftop—just like old times.

Only this time, they weren't hiding. They weren't pretending.

This time, they were just living.

"Do you remember," Jiah said softly, "the first time we talked up here?"

Jungwon nodded. "You told me the stars were stupid."

She laughed. "I was wrong."

He turned toward her. "You said a lot of things. But the one thing you never said—"

"I love you," she interrupted quietly. "I love you, Jungwon."

His eyes crinkled. He kissed her.

Soft. Sure. Home.

And then—

"EWWWW!!"

Joon had somehow woken up and found them. He pointed dramatically. "NO KISSING! That's gross!"

They both burst out laughing as he ran at them, diving between them, demanding hugs and attention.

Jungwon ruffled his hair. "Someday you'll understand."

"I hope not," Jiah teased, wrapping her arms around both of them.

And in that little moment, under the same stars they used to wish on, they didn't need anything else.

Because after everything, they'd made it.

They'd made it home.

Jiah had made her own Family Line.