Chapter Text
It was late autumn, the kind of season when the sky forgot it had ever been blue. The pale morning sun slipped weakly through Yeon Sieun’s thin curtains. Cold air clung to his bones before he even left the bed.
He lay still, staring at the ceiling, waiting for a reason to move, then remembered he didn’t need one. Habit would move him, like always.
With midterms approaching, Sieun threw himself into studying. That morning, he got to school too early, slipping into an empty classroom where the silence felt grounding. Time passed quietly, until the door opened.
Sieun glanced up briefly, gave a nod, and returned to his notes. Juntae quietly took the seat beside him.
Then came the storm.
“Yah! Sieun-ah!” Baku’s voice bounced off the walls. loud, full of energy, and annoyingly dramatic. “Midterms are coming! My father said he’ll kick me out if I fail!”
Beside him, Gotak looked half-dead with boredom.
Sieun’s expression didn’t change. “So?”
“You have to tutor me. And Gotak too, he’ll fail for sure.”
“Shut up, idiot,” Gotak muttered, looking faintly offended.
Juntae sighed, ever the peacemaker. “Sieunie, I need help too. Let’s just do a group study, yeah?”
Sieun let out a quiet sigh through his nose. “Tomorrow. Afternoon. Local library. Bring your notes.”
Baku cheered like he’d just won a gold medal, while Gotak only rolled his eyes and pretended not to care.
After school, Sieun went straight to cram class, then stayed up studying until past 1 a.m. Sleep never came easily, and when it did, nightmares tore through what little rest he managed to get.
It had been a year since he last saw Suho. The memory still burned, the sting in his knuckles, the blood on his shirt, the sound of his own voice cracking on the word sorry. Suho lying pale and still in a hospital bed. Sieun had never gone back after that. Yeongi tried to talk sense into him, but he wouldn’t listen.
And Beomseok? Gone too. Maybe Sieun stopped looking because finding him would mean facing the truth... that he’d failed them both.
By 5 a.m., Sieun gave up on sleep altogether. Another morning. Another day to get through.
After classes, he and Juntae headed to the library. Baku and Gotak trailed behind, stopping for snacks and claiming they needed food to focus.
Sieun didn’t bother arguing. Juntae filled the walk with talk about a manga he couldn’t stop reading, his hands waving as he spoke. Sieun didn’t really follow the story, but he didn’t mind listening.
At one corner, Juntae turned to walk backward mid-sentence, still talking about the climax and bumped into someone.
The man didn’t move an inch. He was older, taller, with broad shoulders and a worn leather jacket. His glare was sharp enough to cut.
“What the hell, kid?” the man snapped, his voice low and harsh. He grabbed Juntae by the collar and drew his fist back.
Sieun stepped forward, hands still in his coat pockets. His expression was calm, his tone steady. “Let him go.”
The man didn’t even look at him properly. “Mind your business.”
“He is my business.”
A smirk twisted across the man’s face. “And what are you gonna do about it?”
The man started to swing, but Sieun dropped his bag. It hit the ground with a soft thud.
Everything that followed happened too fast for Juntae to process, Sieun’s hand clamped around the man’s wrist, twisting sharply until he let go. A quick step forward, an elbow to the ribs, a precise kick to the knee. The man grunted, then swung wildly.
Sieun moved easily, like water, ducking under the punch before driving another kick into his ribs. The sound of impact echoed against the pavement. The man fell hard, gasping.
“You should walk away,” Sieun said quietly, his eyes cold. “Before I stop holding back.”
The man scrambled to his feet and stumbled off down the street.
Juntae stood frozen, still gripping his bag strap. “What… was that?”
Sieun slung his bag back over his shoulder. “You talk too much when you walk.” He started forward again.
Juntae blinked, still trying to catch up until something on the other side of the street caught his eye.
A man stood there, half-hidden in the shadow of a lamppost. His glasses glinted in the dim light, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers. Watching them.
Juntae blinked again, but the man didn’t move.
He shook his head, pushed the u nease away, and hurried to catch up with Sieun.