#Push Connect Notify Apps

[seospicybin]

NEPTUNE.

Hyunjin x reader. (s,a)

Synopsis: In a distant future where an app can predict your death, a retired dancer and an ambitious swimmer cross path by chance. With their final day looming, they choose to share it together, finding unexpected connection in the fleeting hours they have left. (19,6k words)

Author's note: With this fic, I hope that you get to realize that no matter how small your achievement is, it matters. You are matter. Happy new year, everyone! ❣

In the distant future, death isn’t a mystery. It’s an appointment.

It started with a breakthrough—an algorithm said to be so precise it could predict the exact day someone would die. Governments called it progress, a tool to manage the chaos of an overburdened planet. They named it Mortem. What they didn’t expect was how quickly the app would seep into the fabric of life.

People stopped planning for the long term. Relationships became fleeting, careers lost their permanence, and calendars filled with expiration dates. Death notifications became part of the noise—just another alert blinking alongside weather updates and dinner reservations.

But Mortem wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t tell you the when—only the day. That meant hours, minutes, or fleeting seconds could separate you from the end. For some, it was a mercy. For others, a torment.

Tonight, the city pulses with quiet tension, as it always does. Neon lights flicker against a backdrop of endless skyscrapers, their glass walls reflecting a future built on progress and control. Somewhere, phones buzz softly, notifying their owners of an unchangeable truth: Tomorrow is your last day.

For those who receive the message, there are choices to make. Will they cling to the comforts of routine, pretending the day ahead is like any other? Or will they seek something different—a chance to hold onto life for just a little longer?

Two strangers will soon find themselves asking that same question. Their lives have never crossed before, but by the time tomorrow ends, they will have shared something no one else can understand.

-

5:00 a.m.

The alarm pierces the early morning silence, jolting Hwang Hyunjin awake. With practiced ease, he silences it, sitting on the edge of his bed as he stretches his long arms. His back arches slightly, muscles awakening as he bends forward to gather his thoughts.

The world outside is still cloaked in darkness, but Hyunjin is already lacing up his running shoes. A quick double knot secures them before he presses play on his playlist, music flooding his ears and sharpening his focus.

The crisp, cool morning air greets him as he steps outside. It stings against his skin, but he welcomes it, inhaling deeply as he begins to run. His strides are steady, powerful, each one cutting against the wind. His long, dark hair bounces with the rhythm of his movement, dampened slightly by the early morning mist.

After completing his route, Hyunjin stops by his favorite bakery, where the warm aroma of freshly baked bread envelops him. He orders his usual: a selection of warm pastries and a steaming cup of coffee to go. Back at his apartment, he settles by the window, the city stirring to life beyond the glass. He takes slow bites of his breakfast, sipping his coffee as the first golden rays of sunlight paint the skyline.

It’s moments like this, quiet and unassuming, that he treasures most. They remind him of the beauty in simplicity, grounding him before the demands of the day.

By ten o’clock, Hyunjin arrives at the training center, his focus razor-sharp. He begins with a grueling gym session, pushing his limits to strengthen his arms and back. The burn in his muscles is a familiar companion, one he embraces with resolve. Sweat drips down his chin as he finishes his final set, his determination unwavering.

But this is only the beginning.

Hyunjin steps into the aquatic center, the sharp scent of chlorine filling his lungs. In the locker room, he changes into a sleek pair of swimming briefs.

"How are you feeling, my man?" A friendly pat on his back pulls him from his thoughts.

"Excellent," he replies confidently, catching his reflection in the mirror as he adjusts his swim cap. His friend's grin widens, sensing the energy radiating off him.

"What's your current record?"

"For the 100 or the 200 medley?" Hyunjin asks, slipping the last strands of his hair beneath the cap."You know which one I'm asking."

"47.12." A proud smile curves his lips.

"Bet you can take it to 46 today," his friend challenges, tossing his shoes into his locker.

The words hang in the air, lighting a spark in Hyunjin. He doesn’t need the push—he’s already determined—but the encouragement fuels his fire.

Hyunjin steps onto the pool deck, his reflection shimmering on the surface of the water. Memories of his younger self flicker in his mind, the boy who first discovered the joy of being in the water. Back then, it felt like another world—quiet, weightless, serene.

That love hasn’t faded.

He dips a hand into the pool, splashing the cold water onto the back of his neck. It’s a small ritual, an anchor before the dive. His goggles are snug against his face, a protective barrier between him and the world above.

Hyunjin climbs onto the starting block, his heart steady, his goal clear. He holds the current record in the 100-meter freestyle, but today isn’t about records or accolades. It’s about pushing himself to the edge, chasing a version of himself he’s yet to meet.

The whistle shrieks, and Hyunjin dives.

The water welcomes him, enveloping him in its familiar embrace. Each stroke propels him forward, every kick slicing through the resistance. His body moves in perfect harmony, years of training reducing the act to instinct.

To Hyunjin, the sky isn’t the limit—it’s just the beginning. And soon, he knows, he won’t just swim among the clouds. He’ll soar beyond them.

-

8:02 a.m.

The studio is quiet, save for the soft creak of polished wood beneath your bare feet. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting long beams across the mirrored walls. You breathe in the familiar scent of resin and faintly worn leather, grounding yourself in this sacred space.

This is how you always start your mornings: alone, warming up in the quiet before the day begins. It’s a small luxury, one you’ve come to cherish in a world that feels anything but certain.

You stand in the center of the room, your reflection poised and still. Slowly, you move through the routine, arms lifting, legs extending, muscles lengthening with every step. The rhythm flows from memory—an old habit, a comfort that never falters.

Then, it happens.

A sharp ping breaks through the silence, echoing off the walls.

You freeze mid-pirouette, your balance wavering. Across the room, your phone sits on the bench, its screen lit up with a single notification. For a moment, you don’t move. It’s not unusual for your phone to chime—messages from parents, reminders for classes—but something about the sound feels heavier this time.

You exhale, lowering your arms. Whatever it is can wait. You’ve always finished what you started, and today will be no different.

You push forward, completing the warm-up with careful precision. The movements are second nature, your body carrying you through muscle memory. But there’s a weight in the air now, and with each step, your focus frays a little more.

Finally, you stop.

The studio falls silent again as you walk toward the bench. Your pulse quickens when you see the notification’s source: Mortem.

You stare at it, your breath catching in your chest. The app sits there, waiting, the message unread. Tomorrow is your last day. Is that what it will say? Or will it be another date, far off in the future?

For a moment, you consider turning away. Dancing has always been your escape, your solace. Maybe one more routine will help you clear your mind.

You step back toward the center of the studio, muscles coiled and ready to begin again. But something stops you. A voice, faint but insistent, whispers at the edge of your thoughts: Face it.

Your hands tremble as you pick up the phone. You swipe the screen, heart pounding in your ears, and open the notification.

Your eyes lock onto the date, and for a moment, everything freezes. Confusion flickers in your chest, followed by the sharp pang of disbelief. You’d told yourself you were ready for this, that the day would come eventually, but seeing it spelled out so plainly shakes you.

And then, as quickly as it came, the chaos fades. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself as you’ve done countless times before. The truth is undeniable, and no amount of fear will change it.

You’ve made your peace with death. You always knew it would come soon. And now, soon is here.

-

3:22 p.m.

Dahlias.

Your mother’s favorite flowers. They stand out vividly against the muted tones of the hospital’s inpatient ward, clutched close to your chest as you make your way to her room.

It started with an ache—sharp and unrelenting—but she didn’t see a doctor until the nausea and loss of appetite became impossible to ignore. Six months ago, the diagnosis came: stage 3 pancreatic cancer. The doctor gave her six months to a year to live, and with every agonizing moment, you’ve come to understand why she wishes the end would hurry along.

But the notification she hopes for never arrives.

“Honey, I haven’t gotten my notification yet,” she mutters the moment you step into her room. Her voice is flat, a mix of irritation and resignation, as her eyes glance at the flowers in your hands.

She’s always irritable after chemo, so you don’t let her tone sting. Instead, you walk to the sink, filling a vase with water.

After the nurse checks her IV and blood pressure, you’re left alone with her. The silence isn’t new, but it feels heavier today.

“They said six months. Why am I still here?” she groans, struggling to adjust her pillow.

You hurry to help, carefully setting the vase of dahlias on the bedside table. They brighten the room immediately.

“They’re beautiful,” she finally says, softening just a little.

“I’m glad you like them,” you reply with a faint smile.

Your mother has always lived with vivacity. She wasn’t one for small dreams; she lived a thousand of them. In her teens, she wanted to be a singer. By her twenties, fashion called her, leading to an internship at a fabric shop. There, she befriended a chef who inspired her to pursue culinary arts. It was during that chapter of her life that she met a classical musician—your father.

And you.

Her dreams shifted then, morphing into family and love, and for years, she poured herself into creating a home filled with warmth. When your father passed, she found a new dream: becoming a florist. She turned it into a thriving business.

Until six months ago.

“Are you eating well?” she asks suddenly, her concern for you breaking through her fatigue.

You nod. “Yes.”

“What did you eat this morning?”

It’s a routine question, part of her new reality where food tastes like nothing. Asking you lets her imagine the flavors she misses.

“I had cranberry ciabatta from the bakery across the street,” you lie gently.

She hums contentedly, closing her eyes. “They make the perfect ciabatta.”

“Mom,” you say softly, taking her frail hand in yours.

“Yes, my darling?”

“What would you cook for your last dinner?” You smile to hold back the lump in your throat.

Her face lights up, pleased by the question. She’s always loved sharing her stories, and now they’re all she has left to give.

“For an appetizer, I’d make eggplant croquettes,” she says with a teasing grin.

“Mom, not the eggplant,” you protest, wrinkling your nose.

Her laugh is weak but genuine. “Okay, okay. How about scampi bruschetta?”

“Now that’s more like it,” you say with exaggerated approval.

She closes her eyes, envisioning her creation. “With thyme and lemon. I’d toast the ciabatta for five minutes—just enough for a crunch—and sear the shrimp with olive oil and a pinch of salt. Then sauté spring onions with thyme, lemon zest, and honey. Acacia honey.”

As she speaks, her voice gains strength, her enthusiasm igniting memories of her former self. Between recipes, she slips in anecdotes, turning her imagined last meal into a tapestry of her life.

You hang on every word because you know these stories matter. They are her, distilled into moments you’ll carry forever.

And yet, the cruel irony doesn’t escape you.

You were supposed to be the one holding her hand at the end, not the other way around. The thought pierces through your heart as you sit there, smiling at her stories. She has spent six months longing for death, only for it to come for you first.

She deserves to rest, to find peace after everything she’s endured. You would have done anything to give her that. But the universe is merciless. It has flipped the natural order, leaving her with the unbearable task of outliving her child.

The injustice of it sits heavy in your chest, threatening to choke you. How is it fair that the one who wants to die must keep fighting, while you—her child—are robbed of the chance to live?

By the time she moves to selecting drinks, her eyelids grow heavy.

“You’re sleepy, Mom,” you whisper, smoothing the duvet around her.

She nods, offering a tired smile. “I’m just a little tired these days.”

You watch her closely, memorizing every line of her face, every glimmer in her weary eyes. “You look beautiful today.”

Her smile deepens, faint but radiant. “I know.”

“You’ve always been beautiful,” you add, unable to stop yourself.

She chuckles weakly. “I look good with cancer, huh?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, committing her image to memory.

As you stand to leave, her hand clasps yours, pulling it to her chest. For a moment, it rests there, and just when you think she’s asleep, she lifts her other hand to pat your head.

“You’re a superstar,” she whispers. “I adore you so much.”

Those were her bedtime words to you as a child, and now they hit deeper, wrapping around your heart with bittersweet comfort.

In her eyes, you will always be her child, no matter how much of the world you’ve seen or what you’ve become.

As she drifts to sleep, you kiss the back of her hand, releasing it gently. You take one last look at her before leaving the room.

This isn’t goodbye. It’s not the last mother-daughter moment, either, because in life and in death, she will always be your mother.

For you, death isn’t the opposite of life. It’s simply a part of it.

-

6:16 p.m.

“46.92!”

The words ring out in the humid air of the locker room as Hyunjin’s friend pats his back enthusiastically. They’re both standing under the shower, letting the day’s fatigue wash away.

“I see a gold medal in your near future,” his friend adds, grinning.

Hyunjin can’t stop the smile that creeps onto his face. The thought of victory is intoxicating, the image of standing atop the podium almost tangible. He can taste it—sweet, like honey.

“Beers? What do you think?” another teammate calls out as Hyunjin turns off his shower head.

For a moment, he’s tempted. He deserves it, doesn’t he? Breaking his personal record, getting closer to his dream—surely, a small celebration wouldn’t hurt.

But discipline pulls him back. His body is his temple, and the bread he allowed himself this morning was already a rare indulgence.

“Not tonight,” Hyunjin says, his tone polite but firm.

“Next time, then,” his friend replies easily, shrugging it off as he heads for the lockers.

The others filter out, their laughter and chatter fading down the hallway until silence envelops the space. Hyunjin is alone now, drying his damp hair with a towel. He moves methodically, packing his bag, folding his towel, tucking everything neatly into place.

When he pulls out his phone, a cluster of notifications greets him. Most are messages from his teammates—congratulations, plans for the weekend, harmless banter. He skims through them absentmindedly until one notification stops him cold.

It stands out like a blot of ink on an otherwise pristine page.

Mortem: Tomorrow is your last day.

For a moment, Hyunjin forgets to breathe. The locker room feels impossibly quiet, the white noise of the air conditioning fading into nothingness.

He reads the notification again, hoping—no, praying—that he’s misunderstood. But the words remain the same.

Hyunjin’s legs feel unsteady as he forces himself to move, his bag slipping from his shoulder as he stumbles toward the pool. He steps onto the edge, the scent of chlorine sharp in the air. The water is eerily still, reflecting the overhead lights in perfect symmetry.

He looks down at his reflection, and what he sees isn’t the confident, ambitious swimmer who broke his record earlier today.

It’s someone hollow. A boy with dreams just out of reach, crushed under the weight of a cruel truth.

His fists clench at his sides as anger rises in his chest, hot and unrelenting.

“FUCK YOU!” he screams, his voice tearing through the silence, reverberating across the chamber.

The sound ricochets off the walls, rippling across the surface of the water. His reflection distorts, breaking apart into fragments before settling again, unfamiliar and unkind.

They say death comes at the right time. A gentle visitor, arriving only when it’s supposed to.

But that’s a lie.

It doesn’t care about dreams or sacrifices. It doesn’t care that Hyunjin has spent years of his life in pursuit of one thing, pushing his body and mind to their limits.

It doesn’t care that he’s so close.

And now, when victory is within his grasp, it will take everything away.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving as he fights to steady his breathing. The rage doesn’t subside—it sits in his chest, a molten core of grief and frustration.

Hyunjin knows there’s nothing he can do to stop what’s coming. But for tonight, he lets himself curse the unfairness of it all, his voice echoing into the void until there’s nothing left but silence.

For Hyunjin, death is a thief.

-

7:22 p.m.

Alcohol is never your first choice. You’re not a fan of the bitter aftertaste or the burn as it slides down your throat. But tonight, you need something to dull the ache.

Your phone lies face-up on the bar, the notification glaring at you like a cruel joke. It’s accompanied by offers—a funeral service arrangement, a hotline for counseling.

You stare at the screen, unsure how to even begin processing it all. Sadness feels too small a word for the heap of emotions weighing you down. Beneath the sorrow lies a sliver of joy at the thought of not having to endure another day. And beneath that, a fragile sense of relief that it will soon be over.

How do you explain that to anyone? How do you untangle that mess of feelings, let alone share them with a therapist?

The bartender doesn’t ask. He doesn’t need to. Your sadness is written all over your face.

An hour passes, your drink long since gone, and you finally decide to leave. The bartender approaches, not with the check but with a bottle in hand.

“Here,” he says, taking your empty glass away.

You blink at him, confused. “I’m ready to pay—”

“I’m not taking your money,” he interrupts, pouring liquid from three different bottles into a pair of shot glasses with precise movements.

It clicks belatedly in your mind—some unspoken gesture, one you wouldn’t have recognized if you didn’t spend most of your nights at home.

“May I ask what this is?” you say, eyeing the amber liquid as he slides the shot glass toward you.

“The Three Wise Men,” he says with a faint smile.

“And who are they?”

“Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels,” he explains, gesturing to the bottles on the counter.

“Ah...” A small laugh escapes you. “Very wise indeed.”

He lifts his shot glass, holding it up in a silent toast. “Ready?”

You hesitate, your hand wrapping around the glass. “Any tips for this?”

“Don’t think. Just swallow.”

You nod, mirroring his stance.

“To the three wise men,” he says.

“To the three wise men,” you repeat, exhaling before tipping the shot back. The liquid burns all the way down, leaving a warmth in its wake.

“Whoo...” the bartender exhales, slamming his glass upside down on the counter.

You mimic him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That was…” You pause, laughing nervously. “…something.”

He chuckles, leaning on the counter as his gaze sweeps the bar. “They say you’re either living to die or dying to live.”

The room feels quieter for a moment as his words settle.

He sighs, his voice softening. “But you know what? I only pity the living.”

The statement strikes you in a way you can’t quite articulate. You don’t want to die, not really. But the thought of living, with all its weight, feels far worse.

“Another round?” he offers, holding up one of the bottles.

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I haven’t eaten dinner, so I don’t think that’s… wise.”

“See? You learned from these men,” he teases, capping the bottle with a grin.

You pull out your wallet, sliding a card toward him. “At least let me pay—”

He steps back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Use the money to buy yourself a nice dinner, okay?”

There’s no arguing with him, so you reluctantly tuck your card away. “Thank you,” you say softly, your voice heavier with gratitude than the words can carry.

He nods, his smile kind. “Hey, I needed that shot too.”

You rise from the stool, glancing back as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Have a great night.”

The bartender is busy with another order, but a few steps later, his voice calls out to you.

“See you on the other side,” he says, raising a hand in farewell.

For a moment, you pause, then nod, offering a faint wave before stepping out into the night.

-

7:45 p.m.

There's nowhere to go.

You’ve been walking aimlessly since leaving the bar, letting your feet lead the way. Your hands are stuffed into your jacket pockets as you stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. The thought of returning to your apartment, where silence lingers like an unwelcome guest, feels unbearable.

You could visit your mother again, but the idea of seeing her only to leave her forever—it's too much to handle.

There are so many things you want to do, yet none of them feel right.

The light finally turns green, and you step off the curb. But before you can take another step, something grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. A motorcycle speeds past, narrowly missing you.

Your mind goes blank. Instead of your life flashing before your eyes, everything shuts down for a moment.

"Come on!" a voice urges. A hand takes yours, pulling you across the street just as the light turns red again.

You don’t realize what just happened until you’re safely on the other side. Someone has just saved you. If they hadn’t stopped you, that motorcycle might have dragged your body halfway down the street.

You turn to look at your savior and freeze. He’s beautiful—stunning, even—and for a moment, you’re speechless.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle but tinged with concern.

His words snap you out of your daze, and you hurriedly compose yourself. "Yeah, I’m sorry, I was—"

"No, no, it’s not your fault. That motorcycle ran the light," he interrupts, shaking his head.

Why are you apologizing? You should be thanking him. But when you look at him, the words catch in your throat, so you glance away. "Thank you… for, uh, earlier," you manage to say.

He smiles, and his eyes curve along with it, warm and genuine. But then his next words take you by surprise.

"Your death isn’t today, right? I’m pretty sure it said tomorrow."

You freeze again, alarm bells ringing in your head. How does he know that? You take a step back, suddenly wary.

Realizing he’s scared you, he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I’m sorry—I should’ve explained first."

He lowers his hands and exhales before continuing, "I was in the bar earlier. I accidentally saw the notification on your phone when I was getting my drink. And then I followed you..." He grimaces. "Wait, that makes me sound like a creep."

He stops rambling and pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping the screen until it lights up. He turns it toward you, revealing a notification identical to yours.

His death is tomorrow, too.

"I guess we’re doomed, huh?" he says with a shrug, his tone oddly lighthearted.

You’re at a loss for words, staring at the screen and then at him. How is it possible that someone like him—this beautiful, radiant man—is doomed?

He puts his phone away and looks at you earnestly. "I know this is sudden, and random, and... probably really weird. But do you want to have dinner with me?"

It is sudden, random, and undeniably strange. But as you look at him—this stranger who saved your life—one thought crosses your mind: What’s the worst that could happen?

You’re going to be dead in a matter of hours anyway.

"Okay," you say.

-

08:10 p.m.

The two of you decide to walk to dinner, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, his adjusting his beanie every few steps. He finally breaks the silence as you pass the second block from where you met.

"I'm Hyunjin, by the way," he says.

You glance at him and give your name in return. When you expect the exchange to end, he extends his hand, and you shake it, feeling the chill of his skin against yours. His long fingers, adorned with rings, seem oddly delicate.

"Nice to meet you," he says with a small smile, pulling his hand back to adjust his beanie again.

“So... when did you get your notification?” he asks after a beat.

“This morning,” you reply, freeing your hands from your pockets now that the silence has been broken. “You?”

He tilts his head back slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. “Two hours ago.”

A strange feeling of unease stirs inside you, but he doesn’t let the conversation falter. “How do you feel about all this?”

“All this?” you echo.

He nods, waiting for your response. You search for the words, trying to name the whirlwind of emotions you’ve carried since the moment you opened that notification.

“I feel... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin stops mid-step, turning to look at you with incredulity. “Alright?”

You shrug, unsure how to elaborate.

“You’re not angry? At all?” His tone sharpens, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

Angry? That hadn’t crossed your mind. There’s an odd peace in accepting what you can’t control, a clarity you never expected. You shake your head. “No.”

His eyes darken, and he mutters, “Well, I am.” He starts walking again, this time faster, his strides growing wide and purposeful.

“I’m livid,” he says through gritted teeth. “If death had a face, I’d punch it.”

You pick up your pace to match his, almost jogging, until he notices and abruptly halts.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his frustration dissolving into concern.

You nod, panting slightly.

He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “Sorry, I tend to walk fast when I’m angry.”

The two of you fall into a slower, more deliberate pace, hands swinging at your sides. You want to ask what exactly makes him so angry, but before you can, he stops again.

“We’re here,” he announces, holding the door open for you.

You step inside and immediately feel out of place. The restaurant is elegant, full of people dressed to the nines. Self-consciousness creeps up your spine, and you spin around to look at him—only to bump into his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumble, looking down.

Hyunjin steadies you with a firm grip on your shoulders. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, stepping back to stand behind him.

“Table for two, please,” he tells the hostess.

She leads you to a table by a large window overlooking the city, the full moon casting a gentle glow over the skyline. As she places menus in front of you, Hyunjin mutters a polite thank-you, his attention already elsewhere.

You glance at him as he removes his jacket, folding it neatly over the back of his chair. He seems unbothered by the setting, completely at ease. He flips open the menu, his eyes scanning the options.

“Any ideas on what to have?” he asks, glancing up at you.

You fumble to open your menu, pretending to read it while avoiding his gaze. Finally, you lean forward and whisper, “Don’t you think we’re underdressed?”

He gasps dramatically, as if your words remind him of something crucial. Tugging off his beanie, his dark hair tumbles down, slightly damp and shiny, framing his small face. He ruffles it quickly, then shrugs.

“Steak? Pizza? Pasta?” he suggests, ignoring your question entirely.

You hesitate. When he offered to take you to dinner, you’d imagined a casual spot, maybe a pizza joint or noodle bar. Not this. And while you’re trying not to think about money, the menu’s prices make your stomach turn.

“I think we should go somewhere else,” you say quietly, your eyes darting over the options.

“Why?”

“It’s... too expensive.”

Hyunjin laughs, low and amused. “Do you think I can’t afford it?”

You shake your head frantically. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—”

“I’m kidding,” he interrupts with a grin. Leaning forward, he drops his voice to a whisper. “Honestly? I can probably only afford a plate of pasta and garlic bread.”

Your eyes widen, but his sly smile makes it clear he’s joking again.

“Good thing we’ve got the pity card,” he says, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug.

You freeze, reminded of the pity card. It’s a small perk that comes with the notification—a free pass to almost anything, covered by taxes. A gesture from the system to say, “Sorry you’re dying soon—here’s a little something.”

But the thought of using it makes your skin crawl.

“No,” you say, shaking your head firmly. “Not the pity card.”

“Why not?”

You struggle to explain. “It just... feels wrong. I don’t want their pity.”

Hyunjin raises a brow. “Who cares? We’ll be dead in a few hours.”

Before you can respond, a waiter approaches to pour water and set down a plate of bread. Hyunjin thanks them softly, then turns back to you.

“It’s not like we’re taking their pity with us to the grave,” he says, lifting his glass. “So, what do you say?”

You glance at the clock on the wall. Four hours left. Soon, none of this—money, pity, pride—will matter.

“We only die once, right?” you say, lifting your glass awkwardly.

Hyunjin laughs, his grin lighting up his face. “We only die once,” he echoes, clinking his glass against yours.

-

8:20 p.m.

You're not much of a conversationalist, so Hyunjin takes it upon himself to break the silence, his curiosity about you driving him forward. He has a myriad of questions on his mind but decides to start simple.

"May I ask what you do?"

His question makes you look up at him, and after a moment's hesitation, you place your hands under the table and answer with a sheepish smile, "I'm a ballet instructor."

The pieces click into place for him—the flowy skirt, black tights, and your hair tied neatly into a bun.

"So, you're a ballerina," Hyunjin remarks, nodding thoughtfully.

"I was," you correct him softly.

He tilts his head, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was?"

"I'm retired," you say briefly, offering another shy smile.

Hyunjin blinks in confusion. Retired? You seem far too young for that. "May I ask why?"

You adjust the cutlery in front of you, your hand steady despite the weight of your words. "I got into an accident a couple of years ago. I badly injured my leg, and the doctor insisted I stop dancing if I wanted to keep walking..." Your voice trails off, and your lips curve into a sad smile as you avert your gaze.

The weight of your story hits him. He can empathize with the sense of loss; after all, his situation is eerily similar. You had to give up your passion because of an accident, while he faces an abrupt end because of the ticking clock. Both of you are here, grappling with the unfairness of it all on what could be your final hours.

"It's like that saying," you continue, "‘Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.’ So that’s what I’m doing now." You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and flash him a reassuring smile, but Hyunjin isn’t convinced. He recognizes the facade; he’s worn it himself.

"And you're not mad about it?" he asks, fully aware he might be treading into private territory.

"I was, for a long time. But eventually, I realized there’s no point in drowning myself in anger."

This time, your smile is different—genuine, even serene. It’s as if you’ve made peace with the cruelty of life, embracing it with quiet strength. Hyunjin admires it, though he knows how hard it must’ve been for you to reach that place.

He takes a breath and shifts the conversation, sensing the need to lighten the mood. "So, you’re teaching at a dance company?"

"A dance academy," you correct him with a nod. "I teach girls between the ages of seven and sixteen."

He can picture it easily—you, guiding a room full of eager young dancers, patient and warm. You probably make their favorite teacher list without even trying.

"And what about you?" you ask, lifting your glass of water for a sip.

"I'm an athlete," he replies.

"Ah..." you murmur, intrigued. "What sport?"

"Take a guess," he says with a playful grin, leaning back in his seat.

Your laughter fills the air, and you give him a once-over, your eyes narrowing as you search for clues. After a moment of deliberation, you venture, "You’re tall and lean so... basketball?."

Hyunjin chuckles, pleased with the compliment but shakes his head. "Nope."

You purse your lips in thought. "Soccer?"

"I like soccer," he admits, leaning forward, "but that’s not it."

You groan in mock defeat, covering your face with your hands. "I’m terrible at this!"

Hyunjin laughs, finding your reaction endearing. "I’m a swimmer," he reveals.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "That’s amazing!"

"I was scouted for the national team," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I was supposed to compete this summer."

The realization of his words hits him mid-sentence, and the excitement drains from his face. Summer is two months away—a future he knows he won’t see.

"That’s incredible," you say gently, your empathetic smile offering comfort.

Just then, the waiter arrives with the menus, saving the atmosphere from slipping into melancholy.

"Would you like to order some wine?" the waiter asks, presenting a list.

You scan the menu and suggest, "I think I’ll have white wine."

Hyunjin glances over the options, muttering to himself, "Vanilla and peach... sounds nice."

"Viognier, sir?" the waiter recommends.

Hyunjin looks to you for approval, and your small nod seals the deal. "We’ll have that," he says.

The wine arrives alongside your meals, and the two of you fall into a rhythm of eating, sipping, and conversing between bites.

"How long have you been swimming?" you ask.

"Since I was eight," he replies, pausing to take a sip of wine.

"Wow. I didn’t even realize I wanted to be a ballerina until I was twelve," you admit.

He’s struck by how much more at ease you seem now, whether it’s the wine or simply warming up to him. "What did you want to be before that?"

"A lot of things. An astronaut, a doctor, a ventriloquist..." You pause, your cheeks flushing with a laugh. "A vampire slayer."

Hyunjin bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really wanted to be everything."

"My mom broke my heart when she said I couldn’t be a vampire slayer," you say, your expression deadly serious.

"Honestly? I’d be sad too," he jokes, grinning.

You lean in, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "Then she told me this: ‘It’s okay if you can’t achieve your dream. You can always go back to sleep and live a new dream.’"

Your laughter carries across the table, and Hyunjin smiles faintly, though the sentiment hits too close to home. Finding a new dream is one thing—but having the time to chase it is another entirely.

You finish your meal and dab your lips with a napkin. "The academy I teach at isn’t far from here, just a few blocks away. I actually have to stop by to grab a few things."

You glance at him, your expression soft. "Do you want to come with me?"

The invitation catches him off guard, but the warmth behind it makes it impossible to refuse.

"I’d love to," Hyunjin answers, smiling. For a fleeting moment, he feels less alone in facing the inevitable—because now, at least, he has a friend.

-

09:15 p.m.

"We'd like to pay with this," Hyunjin slides his phone across the table to the waiter.

The waiter studies the screen for a moment. You can see the subtle shift in his expression as realization dawns—Hyunjin's pity card, stark proof of his limited time, is what he offers as payment. The waiter looks back at both of you, his eyes softening, probably assuming this is some kind of farewell dinner.

He forces a smile and says, "We'll process it right away."

Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you, a small grin tugging at his lips as if to say, Here it comes.

Sure enough, the waiter, taking a step away, turns back around and says solemnly, "We're very sorry."

Both of you burst into quiet laughter, your shared amusement breaking the gravity of the moment.

"That's one!" you tease, raising your coffee cup as if to toast.

When the waiter returns with Hyunjin's phone and the bill, his demeanor is still tinged with melancholy. As Hyunjin signs, the waiter fidgets slightly, clearly wrestling with unspoken words. In the end, all he offers is another subdued, "I'm very sorry."

You glance at Hyunjin with a smirk. "Two," you whisper under your breath.

The waiter departs, but not before the lady at the till calls after you as you're leaving. "Thank you, and we're very sorry."

The moment the door closes behind you, you and Hyunjin burst into unrestrained laughter.

"A hat trick!" he says, shaking his head, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

As you stroll to the academy, you find yourselves critiquing the meal like professional food critics, though the details blur in your slightly tipsy haze. The wine stands out—delicious enough that you’d kept asking for refills. Thankfully, the cool evening air helps clear your head by the time you reach the academy.

You unlock the studio door, the faint scent of wood polish and faint traces of rosin welcoming you. The dim overhead lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the polished floor and mirrored walls. Hyunjin steps inside, his eyes widening as he takes in the space.

"This is where you work?" he asks, his voice tinged with awe.

You nod. "My second home."

Hyunjin walks around the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the floor. He pauses by the ballet barre, running his fingers lightly over the smooth wood. "This place is beautiful," he murmurs.

You smile, setting your bag down. "It has its charm, doesn't it?"

His gaze falls on the wall of framed photos—groups of smiling children in costumes, candid shots of performances. "Are these your students?"

"Yes," you say, walking up beside him. "They’re the reason I still love what I do."

Hyunjin glances at you, his expression soft. "I can see why they'd love you as a teacher."

The compliment catches you off guard, and your cheeks warm. Quickly, you motion to the barre. "Want to try something?"

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you offering to teach me ballet?"

"Why not?" you say, grinning. "You’re an athlete. It’ll be fun."

-

10:25 p.m.

You stand in front of him, arms crossed, as Hyunjin tentatively grips the barre. His tall frame looks comically out of place in the elegant studio.

"Okay," you begin, stepping closer. "We’ll start with something simple—a plié."

Hyunjin looks at you skeptically. "A what?"

You laugh softly. "It’s just bending your knees. Easy."

Demonstrating, you lower yourself gracefully, your knees bending outward as your back stays straight. Hyunjin watches, nodding, and attempts to mimic you.

His execution is… not as graceful.

"No, no," you say, laughing, stepping behind him to adjust his posture. "Straighten your back. And don’t forget to keep your heels on the ground."

You place your hands lightly on his shoulders to guide him. The moment your hands touch him, he stiffens, looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

"Relax," you say softly, your gaze meeting his.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and finally eases into the position. You step around to face him, studying his form critically.

"Not bad," you tease. "But your turnout needs work."

"What’s that?" he asks, genuinely curious.

You tap his knee gently. "It’s the angle of your legs. Let me show you."

You crouch slightly, your hands brushing his calf as you adjust his stance. He watches you intently, his dark eyes following your every move. When you glance up, you find him staring.

"Something wrong?" you ask, standing upright.

He blinks and shakes his head. "No, it’s just… you’re really good at this."

You chuckle, stepping back. "It’s my job."

Encouraged by your patient coaching, Hyunjin tries another plié. It’s still a little stiff, but he manages to get through it without wobbling.

"See? You’re getting the hang of it," you say, clapping lightly.

"Don’t lie," he says, laughing.

"Okay, you’re still stiff," you admit with a grin, "but that’s expected. Ballet is all about control and precision."

Hyunjin straightens up, rolling his shoulders. "It’s harder than it looks."

"Now you understand why ballerinas are tough," you say, playfully nudging him.

He laughs, the sound light and carefree. "Okay, what’s next?"

You hesitate, considering. "Maybe a pirouette?"

"A what?"

You demonstrate the spin, moving with effortless grace. Hyunjin stares, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, no," he says, laughing nervously. "I’ll break something."

You step closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I’ll guide you. Trust me."

As you position him for the spin, your hand lingers on his waist. The closeness brings an unexpected tension between you, and for a moment, neither of you moves.

"You ready?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes locked on yours.

"Okay. One… two… three."

He spins—clumsily, of course—but the two of you dissolve into laughter as he nearly stumbles into you. You catch his arm to steady him, the laughter fading as you find yourselves standing mere inches apart.

"Not bad for your first time," you say softly, your hand still on his arm.

Hyunjin smiles, his gaze lingering on you. "Only because I had a good teacher."

-

10:55 p.m.

The quiet of the studio wraps around you like a soft blanket, interrupted only by the faint hum of the overhead lights. Hyunjin leans against the barre, watching you adjust your pointe shoes with practiced precision. The thought has been circling his mind since you both left the restaurant, but now, in this space that seems so deeply a part of you, he can’t hold back his curiosity.

“So…” he begins cautiously, his voice light but uncertain, “how did it happen?”

You pause, looking up at him with a flicker of confusion.

“I mean, your accident,” he clarifies quickly, his expression apologetic, as though he’s afraid he’s overstepped. “If it’s okay to ask.”

A faint smile touches your lips, and you straighten, leaning against the mirror. “Two years ago,” you say softly, the words feeling fragile yet certain, as if the memory lives just on the edge of your voice.

Hyunjin stays quiet, giving you space to continue.

“I was preparing for an audition—Swan Lake,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of pride and pain. “I’d been working on my fouettés for weeks, trying to perfect all thirty-two of them. It was… everything to me.”

He can see it in your expression, the longing for something lost yet deeply cherished.

“The morning of the audition, I was rushing to catch the bus,” you continue, your hand gesturing lightly as though retracing steps from that day. “I was almost out the door when I realized I’d forgotten my shoes—the ones I believed would bring me luck. So, I ran back to get them.”

Your voice falters, and Hyunjin feels a pang of dread, already sensing what comes next.

“When I stepped out of my apartment building, a car came out of nowhere.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers brushing over the edge of the barre. “It wasn’t even going that fast, but the way I fell… My leg took the worst of it. Surgery, physical therapy… the usual.”

Hyunjin swallows hard, unsure what to say. “Do you… regret going back for the shoes?”

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. “Every day.”

The silence that follows feels heavy and fragile, a moment suspended between reflection and grief.

“Can you dance at all now?” Hyunjin asks gently, his voice barely above a whisper, unsure if he wants to hear your answer.

You surprise him by smiling. “Why don’t I show you?”

Standing in the center of the studio, a quiet determination settles over you. The space transforms as you raise your arms, your posture suddenly regal, every movement deliberate and graceful.

“This is the introduction to Black Swan, Act III,” you say, your voice steady. “It’s what I’d prepared for the audition.”

Hyunjin nods, unable to take his eyes off you as you begin to move. You are mesmerizing, every gesture steeped in a passion he can feel even in the silence of the room. But as you transition into the fouettés, he notices the strain in your expression. Your balance falters, your leg wobbles, and before he can call out, you tumble to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Instead of answering, you let out a loud, breathless laugh that echoes through the studio. You collapse back onto the polished floor, holding your stomach as the laughter spills out, unstoppable.

Hyunjin blinks, confused at first, but the sound of your laughter pulls him in. A small smile tugs at his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, lying down beside you.

The quiet returns, the two of you staring up at the ceiling.

After a moment, you speak, your voice softer now, almost wistful. “Sometimes, I like to think there’s another me out there, one who made it to the audition, who got to live that dream.”

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you. Your expression is calm, tinged with longing but also a quiet acceptance.

“And you know what?” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m happy for her and that’s enough for me.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say, so he simply stays beside you, sharing the silence. There’s something achingly beautiful about your acceptance, the way you’ve found peace in the life you have now.

In that moment, he realizes how much strength it takes to smile at what could have been and quietly say, That’s enough.

-

11:13 p.m.

The studio falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. After a while, you sit up, brushing your hands over the smooth wood of the floor, and glance at Hyunjin lying beside you. He looks peaceful, almost lost in thought, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as an idea forms.

“I showed you my dancing,” you say, breaking the quiet. “Now I want to see you swim.”

Hyunjin’s head turns toward you, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. “You want to see me swim?” he asks, his voice soft yet curious.

You nod, leaning back on your palms. “It’s only fair. I want to see you doing what you do best.”

For a moment, he studies you, as if trying to gauge whether you’re serious. Then, a small chuckle escapes him, and he pushes himself up to sit beside you. “Alright,” he says, a playful smile spreading across his face. “If you really want to.”

He rises to his feet effortlessly and extends a hand to you, his fingers warm and steady as they wrap around yours. With a strong tug, he pulls you up, but the motion catches you off guard, and your body stumbles forward, colliding with his.

Your breath hitches as you find yourself pressed against him, your hands instinctively landing on his chest for balance. Hyunjin’s hands settle on your waist, steadying you, and for a moment, the world feels still again—but this time, it’s charged with something unspoken.

You glance up at him, and your heart skips a beat when you notice his gaze lingering on your lips. The air feels heavier, your pulse quickening under his touch. His expression is unreadable, his eyes soft yet intense, as if caught in a moment of indecision.

Flustered, you look away quickly, stepping back to put some distance between you. “I should, um, clean out my locker first,” you say, your voice slightly rushed. “Then we can go.”

Hyunjin blinks, the spell broken, and his lips curve into a small, understanding smile. “Alright,” he replies simply, his tone easy and light, as though nothing happened.

You turn toward the studio door, your cheeks warm as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Behind you, Hyunjin’s footsteps follow quietly, his presence a steady comfort in the stillness of the room.

-

11:49 p.m.

As the taxi pulls up in front of the aquatic center, Hyunjin is the first to step out. The cool night air brushes against his skin as he circles around to your side, offering his hand to help you out of the back seat. You take it with a quiet "thank you," and he smiles softly in response, his fingers lingering for a moment before he lets go.

Inside, the center is quiet, the fluorescent lights casting a pale glow over the sleek, tiled interior. Hyunjin leads the way, his footsteps echoing lightly in the stillness, but after a few steps, he notices you’re no longer beside him.

He turns around, his brows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You hold up your phone, its screen glowing in the dim light, and his eyes fall to the numbers displayed there. It’s past midnight. The date has turned, and the realization hits him like a weight in his chest—this is it. The day has come.

“It’s today,” you say quietly, your voice steady but tinged with sadness.

Hyunjin studies your face, searching for any sign of fear. “Are you scared?” he asks softly.

You don’t answer right away, your lips curving into a sad smile instead. Then, with a steadying breath, you meet his gaze and say, “Promise me something.”

His heart tightens at your tone. “What is it?”

“If my time comes first,” you begin, your voice cracking slightly, “I want you to move on. Keep going. Finish your day, okay?”

Hyunjin’s chest tightens, his head shaking before you can even finish the thought. “No,” he says firmly, stepping closer to you. “I can’t do that. Not unless you promise me the same thing.”

You hesitate, your eyes glistening under the soft glow of the lights. After a moment, you nod, your voice a whisper. “Okay. We’ll both keep going.”

He takes your hand in his, his grip firm but comforting. “We’ll do it together,” he says, his voice steady and resolute.

You smile at him then, soft and bittersweet, and he feels his heart ache at how brave you are in this moment.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand gently and tilts his head. “So,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips, “do you still want to see me swim, or is there something else you’d rather do?”

You shake your head, a quiet laugh escaping you. “I still want to see you swim,” you insist, your determination making his heart feel lighter.

He chuckles softly, releasing your hand and motioning toward the pool. “Alright then,” he says. “Let’s make this count.”

With that, he turns and walks with you into the aquatic center, the weight of the clock pressing on both of you, but your shared promise holding it at bay for just a little longer.

-

12:07 a.m.

The sharp, unmistakable scent of chlorine stings your nose as you step inside the aquatic center. The lights overhead cast shimmering reflections across the vast, still water, and you pause, taking it all in. The pool is immense, almost intimidating in its size, with the kind of quiet that feels both peaceful and eerie.

You walk to the edge, peering over cautiously. The water glimmers below, deceptively inviting, but as your gaze shifts downward, the sheer depth of the pool sends a chill through you.

“Can you swim?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the stillness, pulling your focus to him.

You shake your head, your lips pressing into a tight line. “No,” you admit softly. “I almost drowned once when I was ten. I’ve been afraid of swimming ever since.”

Hyunjin studies you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, with a small smile, he says, “It’s not too late to learn, you know.”

You hesitate, your arms wrapping around yourself. The idea alone sends your pulse racing, the memory of water filling your lungs still too vivid in your mind. “It’s… not that easy,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

Hyunjin steps closer, holding out his hand to you. His voice is gentle but insistent. “Come with me. I can teach you how to swim… without the water.”

You glance at his outstretched hand, uncertainty swirling inside you. But the way he looks at you, so patient and reassuring, nudges you forward. Slowly, you nod.

“Alright,” you say, placing your hand in his.

He leads you to a smaller pool, its drained interior revealing its tiled floor. Hyunjin climbs down the ladder first, but the rungs don’t reach all the way to the bottom, and you watch as he drops the last few feet with an easy, practiced grace.

“It’s not so bad,” he calls up to you, extending his arms. “Come on. I’ll guide you down.”

You grip the ladder, your knuckles whitening as you lower yourself carefully. Hyunjin watches you closely, his gaze steady and encouraging. But as you near the bottom, your foot slips on the slick metal.

Your heart lurches as you lose your grip, your body tilting backward into the empty pool.

“Hyunjin!” you cry out, the name leaving your lips instinctively as panic seizes you.

For a split second, the world tilts and blurs, your breath catching in your throat. The feeling of falling stretches out endlessly, your chest tightening with dread. Is this it? Is this the moment everything ends?

The silence in the pool amplifies the rush of your heartbeat, drowning out everything else.

-

12:15 a.m.

It all happens so fast that Hyunjin doesn’t fully register the moment until you’re lying at the bottom of the drained pool, unmoving. A jolt of fear grips him as he rushes to your side, kneeling beside you.

“Hey,” he calls softly, his voice trembling. His hand hovers over your shoulder, unsure whether to shake you or give you space. Your eyes remain closed, and there’s no reaction. For a second, his breath hitches.

Then, just as his chest tightens with panic, you let out a low whine, your hand reaching for the back of your head. Relief crashes over him so strongly that he nearly laughs out loud.

“You scared me!” he exclaims, leaning closer as he gently brushes his fingers against the back of your head to check for any injury. “Does it hurt here?”

You wince but then immediately chuckle, brushing him off. “That would’ve been such an anticlimactic death,” you joke, trying to sit up.

Hyunjin lets out a shaky laugh, torn between exasperation and amusement. “I don’t think I’d recover from that,” he mutters, helping you up. To make sure you’re okay, he holds up three fingers with a mock-serious expression. “Alright, genius. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his hand away, a grin tugging at your lips. “I’m fine, Hyunjin.”

“You sure?” He narrows his eyes, clearly still worried.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you reply, waving him off. “Now, are you going to teach me how to swim or not?”

He laughs and takes a step back, gesturing for you to follow him to the center of the empty pool. “Alright, since you’re so eager. Do you have a swimming style in mind?”

“Uh… backstroke?”

“Backstroke, huh? Fancy choice.” He teases, listing a few others—freestyle, breaststroke, butterfly—all with a playful grin. Shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it to the side, he positions himself in front of you, standing tall and confident.

“Okay,” he says, holding his arms out in front of him. “Rest your back on my arms. I’ll guide you.”

You hesitate, your brows knitting together. “I don’t know, I might be too heavy—”

“Seriously?” He rolls his eyes and interrupts you. “I’m an athlete. I’m strong enough to hold you. Just trust me.”

Still unsure, you eventually take a deep breath and lean back, letting your weight settle onto his arms. His grip is steady, firm, and reassuring.

“See? No problem,” he says, his voice soft now, coaxing you to relax. “Alright, keep your body straight, like you’re floating on water. Flap your arms back and kick your feet forward, just like this.”

You follow his guidance, mimicking the movements, and he begins to move backward, gently carrying you along. It feels so real that for a moment, you let yourself believe you’re actually swimming.

But then your focus drifts as you glance at him—his sharp features illuminated under the pool’s dim lights, the concentration in his expression, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.

He catches your gaze and quirks a brow. “What?”

Flustered, you quickly look away, and your hand smacks against the tiled wall at the end of the pool. Startled, you sit up.

“Whoa, swimmer!” Hyunjin teases, his laughter echoing in the empty pool. “If this was real, your head would’ve hit the wall instead of your hand.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, the moment so lighthearted and surreal that it temporarily pushes the looming reality of the day out of your mind.

Hyunjin chuckles as your laughter fades, his hand brushing back his damp hair. The glimmer in his eyes is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of something softer, almost protective, as he watches you sit up fully, still smiling from his teasing.

"Alright," he says, crossing his arms. "You’re not bad for someone who’s never been in the water."

You roll your eyes but can’t help grinning. “Thanks to my amazing teacher, right?”

He bows theatrically. “Obviously. Natural talent helps too, but I’ll let you take some credit.”

You shake your head, standing up as you stretch your arms. “Well,” you say with mock seriousness, “now that I’ve impressed you with my not-so-real swimming skills, it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

Hyunjin straightens, his grin widening. “Oh, you want to see me swim for real?”

“Of course,” you reply, stepping aside and gesturing toward the other end of the pool. “How else am I supposed to judge if you’re actually any good?”

He smirks at your challenge, the competitive spark in his eyes lighting up. “Alright, I’ll show you,” he says confidently, already pulling his hoodie back on. “But don’t blink—you might miss how fast I am.”

You laugh, following him as he leads the way out of the drained pool, anticipation bubbling in the air between you.

-

12:55 a.m.

The aquatic center feels almost otherworldly in its stillness, the faint scent of chlorine hanging in the air. When Hyunjin finally reappears, dressed in nothing but his swimming trunks, towel, and goggles in hand, it takes you by surprise. His tall, lean frame seems even more striking now, the hoodie he'd worn earlier having hidden the breadth of his shoulders and the defined lines of his physique.

You catch yourself staring, and before you can stop it, an awkward giggle slips out. Hyunjin tilts his head, confused but amused. "What?" he asks.

Shyly, you admit, "Nothing, I just— I was starting to get creeped out being here all alone when you went to change."

He chuckles softly, walking to the edge of the pool. He crouches to scoop water into his hand, splashing it onto the back of his neck before straightening up.

"I need to warm up first," he says casually. You nod, stepping back to give him space.

Hyunjin drops to the ground and starts doing push-ups, his muscles flexing with each movement. You’re mesmerized despite yourself, your gaze tracing the way his body moves with fluid strength. Feeling the heat creep up your face, you force yourself to look away just as he finishes, bouncing lightly on his feet to shake out his wrists and arms.

"Don’t blink," he says, smirking as he heads toward the pool. "I swim so fast, you might miss it."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you respond with a teasing, "I’ll try to keep up."

Hyunjin dives in, his body cutting through the water with ease. The rhythmic splashing fills the air, and you can’t help but admire him. Watching him move with such precision and grace, he looks almost otherworldly—like a god emerging from the sea as he surfaces and climbs out of the pool.

The sight of water beading on his skin makes you avert your gaze, your heart racing. Grabbing the towel he'd left behind, you hand it to him without meeting his eyes.

"What did you think?" he asks, running the towel over his hair.

"Eh, it was alright," you tease with a grin.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at your playful jab but chuckles, grabbing a stopwatch from his things. "Alright, critic. Let’s make it official. Time me this time."

"I don’t know if I’ll get it right," you protest, but he waves your concerns off.

"It doesn’t have to be perfect," he reassures you, securing his swimming cap and goggles. Once he’s ready, he asks, "You ready?"

You move closer to the pool’s edge, holding up the stopwatch. "Ready when you are."

Hyunjin steps onto the starting block, his form taut and focused. You start the countdown, your voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "Three... two... one!"

At the sound of "one," he dives in, and the water comes alive with his movement. Squatting down, you watch intently as he powers through the length of the pool and then back again, his speed almost unbelievable. The closer he gets to the edge, the tighter your grip on the stopwatch becomes.

When his hand finally slaps the wall, you hit the button, exhaling in relief.

Hyunjin surfaces, wiping his face. "What’s the time?"

You glance at the stopwatch, still catching your breath. "Forty-six point six-five," you announce, your voice tinged with excitement.

For a moment, Hyunjin looks puzzled, then his expression lights up. Dropping his towel, he strides over and lifts you effortlessly by the waist, spinning you around.

"Wait—did you break your record?" you ask, half-laughing and half-stunned.

He nods, grinning, but the elation fades quickly. As he sets you back down, his smile dims, his joy giving way to something more subdued.

"Hyunjin, what’s wrong?" you ask, concerned.

He shakes his head, forcing a small smile. "It’s nothing," he murmurs. Without another word, he excuses himself to wash up, leaving you alone with the faint ripples in the pool and a lingering sense that something deeper is on his mind.

-

01:08 a.m.

The hot shower does little to clear Hyunjin’s mind, the cloud of thoughts stubbornly lingering as he dries off and dresses. He sighs, running a towel halfheartedly through his damp hair before giving up and heading out.

The sound of his footsteps echoes softly as he exits the changing room, and he sees you standing by the bulletin board, seemingly engrossed in its contents. At the sound of his approach, you turn, your face lighting up with a soft smile. Hyunjin feels something warm unfurl in his chest—a comfort he hadn’t expected.

“You didn’t dry your hair properly,” you tease gently, pointing to the still-dripping strands clinging to his neck.

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, and you tilt yours thoughtfully. “How about some hot drinks after this?”

Hyunjin arches a brow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Hot drinks, huh? I’ve got just the thing.”

The short walk to his apartment is quiet but companionable, and when Hyunjin opens the door, he apologizes for the small, bare setup. His apartment is modest and practical—one room with everything visible at a glance—but he doesn’t seem embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.

He heads straight for the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet. “This is what I mean by hot drinks,” he says, smirking as he pours two glasses.

You both take a sip, and the burn of the alcohol draws simultaneous gasps. Laughing, Hyunjin suggests snacks to enjoy the drinks with and disappears back into the kitchen.

While he’s gone, your attention is drawn to a shelf lined with photos, medals, and trophies. You step closer, taking in the collection of memories. There’s Hyunjin on a podium, his face glowing with pride as he holds up a medal; Hyunjin mid-dive, captured in perfect form; Hyunjin smiling so brightly that the photo seems to radiate his joy.

When he returns, balancing a plate of snacks, he pauses beside you, his gaze falling on the same shelf. For a moment, there’s silence, just the two of you standing there, and then Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh.

Hyunjin sets everything down on the small table, but his eyes linger on the shelf filled with memorabilia. The once-vivid memories of his accomplishments now feel distant, like faded photographs of a life that no longer feels like his own.

He steps closer, his gaze tracing over the medals hanging neatly on hooks, the trophies gleaming faintly under the dim light, and the framed photos of him on various winner's podiums. He can almost hear the echo of applause, the feel of a medal being draped around his neck, the weight of victory sitting proud on his shoulders.

But the applause has long since faded, and what hangs over him now is a heavier truth: it will all become nothing.

Hyunjin swallows hard, the realization pressing against his chest like a stone. Every record he broke, every trophy he held high—soon, none of it will matter. No one will remember him or the things he did. The glory, the pride, the recognition—it will all vanish as if it never existed.

He lets out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “All of this... it’s meaningless now. Everything I’ve done—it’s nothing. Soon, it’ll all be forgotten.”

The weight of his words fills the room, thick and suffocating. His shoulders slump as he drops his gaze, unable to meet your eyes. For a moment, he feels like the water he’s so accustomed to—a surface rippling with movement, but underneath, a deep void pulling him down.

You stand beside him, quietly taking in his anguish. Finally, you turn to him, your voice steady, a soft but unyielding anchor against the tide of his despair. “I disagree with you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin looks at you, surprised by your tone.

“This is... your whole life and it shows that you achieved a lot of great, wonderful things. You can see how far you've become, your triumphs and failures, everything that makes you who you are now,” you say, your eyes locking with his. “And just because the whole world doesn't know how great you are this doesn't mean it's nothing. This is not nothing, this is everything.”

He watches you intently, your words weaving through the storm of his thoughts like threads of light. For a moment, he feels the weight on his chest lift, just enough for him to draw a deeper breath.

It's true that his dream is to make a mark in the world, he wants to be remembered by the world but as he looks at you, Hyunjin realizes that it only takes one person to know what he capable of. He doesn't need the whole world to know that he's great, he only needs one that fully acknowledges him as one.

-

01:22 a.m.

Hyunjin's words linger in the air, heavy with vulnerability, and for the first time since meeting him, you realize just how deeply he craves to make a mark on this world. It isn’t just about the trophies on his shelf or the accolades he’s earned—it’s about the story he wants to leave behind, the proof that he existed, that he mattered.

You see it in the way his fingers hover over the medals, in the wistful look in his eyes as they trace the photos on the shelf. For all his confidence and charisma, there’s a quiet fear beneath it all—a fear of being forgotten, of fading into obscurity when his time is up.

“Hyunjin…” you say softly, stepping closer to him. He doesn’t look at you right away, his gaze fixed on a photo of him on a podium, his smile bright but distant, like a memory that no longer feels real.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, the words spill out. “You are something and you're a fool for thinking otherwise.”

That catches his attention. He turns to look at you, his expression unreadable, and for a second, you worry you’ve said too much. But then his lips part, as if he’s about to say something, and he stops himself.

Instead, he just looks at you. Really looks at you. And in his eyes, you see something shift—a softening, a quiet acknowledgment of your words sinking in.

You feel your pulse quicken, the air between you charged with something unspoken. “And I know that we'll go into oblivion soon,” you continue, your voice steady but quiet, “but I'm still here and I know, I know how remarkable you are.”

Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t waver, and for the first time, you see him without the walls he’s so carefully built around himself. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to steady himself—or maybe you.

“I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “But… thank you.”

The way he’s looking at you now feels different—like he’s searching for something, something only you can give him. And as the silence stretches between you, you feel the weight of it shift into something warmer, something that pulls you closer to him without either of you realizing it.

When Hyunjin leans in, it isn’t sudden. It’s slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you every chance to step back. But you don’t. You hold your ground, your breath catching as his face inches closer to yours.

And when his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft, almost hesitant, like he’s asking a question he’s too afraid to voice aloud. But as you kiss him back, the answer becomes clear. For this moment, at least, he isn’t alone.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you both stay there, caught in the stillness of the moment. His gaze searches yours, hesitant but vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something—validation, reassurance, or maybe just the courage to believe in himself.

Before he can say anything, you lean in again, capturing his lips with yours. This kiss is different, deeper, more intentional. You pour everything you want him to know into it—all the words he needs to hear, the things you can’t quite say aloud.

You are something. You are remarkable. You are a wonder, both in the water and outside of it.

Hyunjin responds immediately, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you like you’re the anchor he didn’t realize he needed. You can feel the way his lips tremble slightly against yours, the way his touch tightens just enough to keep you close but not trap you.

Through the kisses, you try to tell him everything you feel. That his achievements aren’t meaningless. That his existence isn’t something that will fade into nothingness. That even in the face of the inevitable, he has already left a mark—on you, on the world, on everyone lucky enough to know him.

His hands move to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as if grounding himself in this moment, in you. His lips press harder against yours, the kiss turning fervent, desperate, as though he’s trying to absorb every ounce of comfort and affirmation you’re giving him.

You can feel the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet space.

When you finally pull back, it’s not far—just enough to catch your breath. Hyunjin’s eyes remain closed for a moment, his expression unreadable, but when they open, they’re shining with something you can’t quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Hope.

“You’re…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn’t finish. Instead, he leans in again, his lips finding yours once more, and this time, it feels like a promise.

The two of you melt into each other, the kisses growing slower but no less intense. You lose track of time, caught in the warmth and closeness, as if the weight of the world has lifted, if only for a little while. For this moment, at least, you’re both enough—just as you are.

-

01:52 a.m.

Hyunjin's forehead still resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. His fingers trail softly down your arms, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. There’s no hesitation now, no doubt in the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail, every curve, every moment.

Without a word, he cups your face, his touch both gentle and steady, as if grounding himself in you. His thumbs trace slow circles over your cheeks, and you feel your breath hitch as his lips find yours again, softer this time, yet filled with a quiet yearning.

The world around you feels muted, distant, as he leads you toward the bed. The dim light casts soft shadows, and the room seems to shrink until it holds only the two of you.

“You're breathtaking,” Hyunjin murmurs with a low, sultry voice.

"Wait, wait. I'm..." you protest in breathless sighs, your hips arching, lifting off the bed.

He rushes a kiss on your open mouth, his lips graze yours as he says, "Let go. I've got you."

Your abdomen flexes under his arm as you clench around his fingers so hard it nearly pushes him out of you. His cock has never been so jealous than when you begin to come. Your eyes grow big, and your mouth drops open on a silent scream, and your wall clutches around his long, dainty fingers harder with each pulse.

Unreal. Hyunjin says in his head as he looks at you with a pair of big, lustful eyes.

"Look how gorgeous you are, coming on my fingers." He coos, his eyes traveling down your naked body that feels small in his arms. You moan louder in response and he knows he hits his mark.

Eventually, looking is not enough for him so he uses his free hand to touch you. "Look at your eyes, your mouth, your breasts. This soft, soft skin..."

Hyunjin softly smiles at your beauty as you fall apart around him. "So beautiful..."

You're still climaxing and you need this more than he realized. Which means you haven't had it in a while, at least not this good.

"Hyunjin!" You shriek, almost in a panic.

He presses his plush lips to your ear, his breath hot and tickling. "You look perfect like this."

Low moans are spilling out of you, still coming and struggling to breathe through it. Hyunjin curls his fingers and taps you right in the spot in a quick rhythm, and your eyes roll back a little.

"Good girl, keep coming for me. You're doing so well. That's it, be my greedy girl."

When you collapse onto the bed, he ushers you onto his lap, then cradles your spent body in his arms. As soon as he pulls his fingers out, your thighs press together.

"Don't close your legs." Hyunjin rests a hand on your inner thigh, wanting to see every spasm as he tastes your lips. "You're done hiding from me."

You lie side by side, and Hyunjin hesitates for a moment, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. His gaze searches yours, as if silently asking for permission, for reassurance. You respond with a small nod, your fingers reaching to trace the curve of his jaw.

When he leans in again, it’s slow, deliberate. His lips move with yours in a rhythm that feels like a conversation, one that needs no words. His hand finds yours, fingers interlacing as he presses you closer, as if trying to erase the space between you.

“At least, we don't have to worry about condoms,” Hyunjin makes a funny remark as he settles himself between you.

A chuckle escapes your mouth in response, your head falls back onto the pillow. “That’s one way to see it!”

Hyunjin lowers his mouth on you, his trail of kisses begin from your ribcage, he goes lower and sideways, placing kisses on your abdomen that tenses as his lips get closer to where you want him the most. He flashes you a sly smile before placing the gentlest of kiss on your clit. As if that isn't enough to make you wet, he lands a few licks between your folds and drags his tongue upward only to swirls it around your clit and finishes it with another kiss on your clit, briefly sucking at it before letting go.

“I'm going in, yeah?”

You nod in consent, opening your legs wider for him and trying not to stare too much as Hyunjin will only stare back at you, and you'll likely crumble under his intense gaze.

“Oh...” you bite back a gasp the second you feel him entering you, just the tip but you can already feel that his size is above average.

Hyunjin props his hands on each side of you, deciding to hover above you as he pushes the rest of his length by motioning his hips. In this proximity, you can see the way his pupils gradually dilated and his eyelids fluttering the more of him being inside you. Overwhelmed, Hyunjin throws his head back and pushes the rest of his cock until he's fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

“Argh...” his moan raw and broken as if something wounded him.

The world feels suspended, reduced to just the two of you and the quiet rhythm of your breaths. His bare skin glows in the dim of the light, the contours of his body sculpted with an almost otherworldly beauty.

As he thrusts into you at a slow, steady pace, you reach up, your fingers tracing the elegant lines of his collarbone, the smooth expanse of his chest. Every touch feels like discovering him for the first time, each detail making your heart ache with something too profound to name.

“You’re staring,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice soft, almost teasing, though a faint blush colors his cheeks.

“Can you blame me?” you whisper, your voice filled with awe as your fingers trail over the curve of his shoulder. “You’re so beautiful, Hyunjin.”

His lips twitch into a small, shy smile, but his eyes stay locked on yours, filled with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “You make me feel like I’m more than I am,” he says quietly, the vulnerability in his voice wrapping around you.

You shake your head, your hand sliding to the slope of his waist, marveling at how perfectly he fits into the moment, into you. “No,” you whisper. “You’re exactly as you are. And that’s perfect.”

He lowers himself slightly, his long hair brushing against your skin as his lips hover near yours. Your hands continue their exploration, tracing the ridges of his ribs, the softness of his hips, and the strength of his arms as they're now propped in each side of your head.

“You’re not real,” you murmur, your fingertips brushing along his jaw, marveling at how soft yet strong he feels. “You can’t be.”

Hyunjin laughs softly, the sound vibrating through both of you. “I’m real,” he assures you, lowering his lips to brush against yours in a kiss that feels as light as air. “But if I’m not,” he whispers against your mouth, “then I’m glad I get to exist in this moment with you.”

Your hand finds his face, cupping his cheek as you pull him down into a deeper kiss, your body pressing against his as if to anchor him to the earth, to you. And in this moment, as you touch and hold and feel him, you believe in the magic of him, in the impossibility made real, and in the fleeting beauty of this shared, perfect moment.

The rest of the night unfolds in whispers and warmth, every touch and movement filled with quiet intimacy. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the two of you discovering and rediscovering each other, as if this fleeting moment is all that matters.

Eventually, the room falls into a soft silence, broken only by the sound of your breathing. Hyunjin’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into the curve of his body. His hand rests lightly against your waist, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on your skin.

In the stillness, he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re remarkable too,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with sincerity.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you nestle closer to him, your fingers brushing against his. For the first time, the weight of the day seems to lift, leaving only this shared moment, this connection, that feels infinite despite the inevitable.

-

02:59 a.m.

The early dawn filters softly through the curtains, casting a bluish glow over the room as you lay next to Hyunjin, your head resting on his arm while his other hand lazily traces small patterns along your back. His warmth surrounds you, and for a moment, the world feels still and quiet.

With a curious smile, you tilt your head to look up at him. “Hyunjin?” you call softly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Hyunjin turns his head to the side and softly gazes into your eyes. “Yeah?”

“What would your perfect day look like?”

Hyunjin grins, a playful gleam in his eyes. “This,” he says, gesturing to the two of you tangled together under the covers. “Right here, right now. Best way to be found dead.”

You laugh and gently swat at his chest, shaking your head. “Stop saying things like that,” you scold, though the smile on your face betrays your amusement. “I want a serious answer.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling as he considers. “Okay,” he finally says. “I’d start the day early, maybe before sunrise. I’d drive to this lake I used to visit when I was younger. It’s peaceful, surrounded by trees, and the water’s always so calm in the morning.” His voice softens as he speaks, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. “It must be beautiful this time of year.”

You shift slightly, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him. “Is it far?”

“Not too far,” Hyunjin replies, turning his head to meet your gaze. “About two hours by car.”

A spark of determination lights up in your eyes, and you sit up, pulling the blanket with you. “Then let’s go,” you declare, your voice filled with excitement. “Let’s create a perfect day. It’s the last chance we have, so why not make it count?”

Hyunjin looks up at you, his expression softening as his lips curve into a tender smile. For a moment, he says nothing, just gazes at you like you’ve just handed him the world.

“No, let’s just stay here. It's perfect like this,” Hyunjin says with a sly grin.

You gently slap his chest and whine, hoping to put some senses into him.

Slowly, he sits up, leaning closer until his lips brush against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a promise. When he pulls back, his face lingers close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Okay. Let’s do it,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “Let’s go.”

-

03:25 a.m.

Hyunjin is scribbling something on a piece of paper when you return, holding two bags of snacks and drinks from the convenience store. The way his brow furrows slightly in concentration catches your attention, and you pause for a moment, noticing he's using your red hairtie to tie his hair into a low ponytail and engrossed on writing something on a piece of paper.

You step closer and knock on the windshield, grinning as his head snaps up, startled. His wide eyes make you laugh, the sound light and teasing as you shake your head. He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance but leans over to push the car door open for you.

“Need help with those?” he asks, already reaching for the bags in your hands.

“Thanks,” you say, handing them over as he places them neatly in the backseat.

“Did you get everything?” he asks, glancing at the bags.

You nod. “Yep, all set.” Then, reaching into your pocket, you pull out something small and hold it up. “Oh, and this,” you add with a smile.

Hyunjin tilts his head, curious. “What’s that?”

“For you,” you say, showing him the little star-shaped pin in your hand. “Your reward for breaking your time record today.”

His expression shifts, his gaze softening as he looks at the pin. A smile spreads slowly across his face, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything.

Without waiting, you lean in and carefully attach the pin to the lapel of his jacket. “There,” you say, stepping back slightly to admire your work. “Congratulations, Hyunjin.”

He looks down at the pin, his smile widening, and when his gaze lifts to meet yours, there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “You're not going to kiss me?” he asks, his voice teasing yet warm.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in, brushing a quick kiss against his lips. But before you can fully pull away, Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in for another kiss—deeper, slower.

You giggle against his lips, your laughter muffled between you, and he smiles into the kiss before finally pulling back. The warmth in his gaze lingers, leaving you breathless and smiling.

“Alright,” he says, settling back into his seat and starting the car. “Shall we?”

You buckle your seatbelt, excitement bubbling up as you nod. “Ready when you are.”

Hyunjin glances at you, his own excitement mirrored in his expression. “Alright, here we go,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot, the perfect day waiting just ahead.

-

04:11 a.m.

The hum of the car fills the air as you and Hyunjin drive down the winding road, the sun rising higher with each passing mile. You’re both relaxed, trading stories and laughing as a small mountain of snack wrappers begins to pile up between you. Hyunjin occasionally glances your way, his smile soft but constant, as if the moment itself feels too perfect to break.

Reaching into the bag beside you, you pull out a can of soda and hand it to him. “Here,” you say, passing it over without thinking.

Hyunjin takes it with one hand, his other still loosely gripping the steering wheel. As he shifts his attention to crack the tab open, the can slips from his fingers. The drink spills across the front of his t-shirt in an instant, cold liquid spreading like a stain across the fabric.

“Ah, shit!” Hyunjin exclaims, pulling the car slightly to the side as you grab a handful of tissues.

“Hold still,” you say, leaning over to help dab at the spill.

Hyunjin laughs, the sound tinged with embarrassment as he attempts to help, both of your hands awkwardly brushing against each other. “You’re worse at this than me,” he teases.

“Hey, it’s your fault for spilling in the first place!” you counter, trying to keep your tone light as you both focus on cleaning up the mess.

But then it happens—Hyunjin’s attention strays too long from the road, and neither of you notice the dog suddenly darting into the street.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice sharp with panic as your hand instinctively shoots out to grab his arm.

His eyes snap forward, and his body reacts instantly. The tires screech against the asphalt as he slams on the brakes, the force jerking both of you against your seatbelts. The world feels as though it’s spinning for a second, the weight of the abrupt stop pressing hard against your chest.

The car comes to a halt just inches away from the small, trembling dog, its wide eyes staring at you through the windshield.

Your heart is racing, your breaths shallow and shaky as you sit frozen, staring out at the still figure on the road. Hyunjin grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and thick with concern.

You nod numbly, your voice catching in your throat as you try to answer. “Y-yeah. Are you?”

He glances at you, his expression softening when he sees your trembling hands. “I’m fine,” he assures you, though his voice is quieter now, more careful.

The two of you sit in silence for a long moment, the sound of your racing hearts almost audible in the stillness. Then, Hyunjin glances at the dog, who scampers away unscathed, disappearing into the brush.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he turns to face you fully.

You shake your head quickly, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” you say, though the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your words waver.

Hyunjin’s hand hesitates for a moment before it finds yours, his fingers squeezing gently. “We’re okay,” he whispers, almost as if convincing himself.

You nod again, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

As the car slowly starts moving again, the tension lingers, but there’s a quiet understanding between you—a shared moment that feels heavier than words, as if both of you silently acknowledge how fragile this perfect day could have been.

-

05:22 a.m.

The car ride is quiet now, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Neither of you speak for a while, each lost in your thoughts as the road stretches ahead. The sun begins to crest over the horizon, its warm light spilling across the landscape, painting the morning in hues of gold and soft pink.

You reach for the window switch and roll it down, letting the cool morning breeze rush into the car. It sweeps through your hair, refreshing and light, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation calm your nerves.

When you glance over at Hyunjin, he’s already looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back, warmth blooming in your chest despite the chill of the breeze.

“Look at the sky,” you say softly, nodding toward the view. “It’s beautiful.”

Hyunjin tears his gaze from you, his eyes following your gesture. The sky is breathtaking, streaked with the first slivers of sunlight that break through the faint morning mist.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and reflective. “It is.”

His hand leaves the steering wheel, searching for yours. When he finds it, he laces his fingers with yours and rests them gently on his lap. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent reassurance that everything is okay now.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on the horizon, the soft glow of the sun reflecting in his gaze. “It’s beautiful,” he repeats, but this time, his voice is heavier, almost wistful, as if he’s savoring the moment in a way he never has before.

You tighten your hold on his hand, the simple gesture conveying what words can’t. Together, you sit in the quiet, watching the morning unfold, the world outside feeling peaceful and endless as the car moves forward.

-

05:40 a.m.

The car comes to a halt, and you step out into the crisp morning air. Hyunjin joins you, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied sigh. You glance around, the scent of pine and damp earth filling your lungs as you take in the scenery.

After a short walk, the lake comes into view, and you gasp, unable to contain your amazement. The water is perfectly still, a mirror reflecting the sky and the towering trees surrounding it. The faint golden light of the morning casts everything in a dreamy glow. The trees, just beginning to turn with the season, stand like silent sentinels guarding this little piece of paradise.

“Wow,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustling of leaves.

Hyunjin looks at you, his smile growing at your reaction. He reaches for your hand and takes it, his fingers warm and steady against yours. “Come on,” he says, leading you toward the water’s edge.

The two of you stop just where the land kisses the lake. You peer down at the water, its surface so calm it feels like stepping into a painting.

“It must be freezing,” you say, giving Hyunjin a wary glance.

He narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s what makes it perfect for a morning swim.”

You shake your head firmly, taking a step back. “No way.”

Hyunjin laughs, undeterred. “Trust me. Once you’re in, it’s not that bad.”

You laugh nervously, shaking your head again. “Hyunjin, I still can’t swim, remember?”

His expression softens, and he takes both of your hands in his. “And I told you— No worries, I’ll hold you.” His tone is earnest, his dark eyes unwavering.

Despite your protests, he’s relentless, coaxing you closer to the edge until you’re standing there, shivering slightly in your underwear. You grip his hand tightly, trying one last time to dissuade him.

“Hyunjin, I’m serious—”

Before you can finish, he sweeps you off your feet, his arms locking around your waist. You let out a startled squeal, clinging to him instinctively.

“Hyunjin, don’t you dare—”

But it’s too late. He steps into the water, pulling you with him. The cold shocks your body the second you make contact, and you scream, the sound piercing through the stillness of the lake.

Hyunjin doesn’t stop until the two of you are submerged waist-deep. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your legs curling up to avoid the icy water.

“See? It’s not as bad as you think,” he says, his voice light with amusement as he looks down at you.

Your teeth are chattering, and you tighten your hold on him. “You’re right,” you say through gritted teeth. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs, his warm breath misting in the cool air. The sound is infectious, and soon you’re laughing too, your voices echoing across the serene lake.

He then adjusts your arms around his shoulders and gives you an encouraging look. “Hold on tight,” he says, his voice warm with reassurance. You do as he says, gripping him as he begins to move through the water with ease.

The cold from earlier feels less harsh now, your body gradually adapting to the temperature. As Hyunjin swims farther from the shore, you cling to him, feeling the strength in his movements as he effortlessly cuts through the water.

“Not so bad now, huh?” he teases, glancing over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes but can’t help a small smile. “I’m still debating.”

When he slows down, you notice just how far you’ve come from the shore. The lake stretches around you, a perfect circle of serenity framed by towering trees. Hyunjin turns to face you, still holding you securely as you float together.

“Relax,” he says, his voice softer now. His hands guide you gently, helping you stay afloat. You take a deep breath and allow yourself to loosen your grip, trusting him.

The stillness of the moment washes over you as you look around. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the calm water under the open sky. The reflection of the trees and clouds ripples gently with every movement.

“Still as bad as you think?” Hyunjin asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You shrug, pretending to be unimpressed. “It’s... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, his joy infectious as it echoes across the lake. He leans in slightly, his arms finding their way around your waist. Before you can react, he pulls you down with him, both of you plunging beneath the surface.

The cold water shocks you as it rushes over your head, and you instinctively hold your breath. A moment later, you break the surface, gasping for air.

“Hyunjin!” you sputter, wiping water from your face. “What was that for?”

He’s already laughing, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You glare at him, about to launch into a scolding, but he interrupts by cupping your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss.

Your protest dies on your lips, muffled by his. You try to hold on to your indignation, muttering complaints against his mouth, but his kiss is too warm, too insistent. Eventually, you give in, melting against him as his laughter hums through the connection.

When you finally pull away, Hyunjin grins at you, water dripping from his face. “Still want to complain?”

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “You’re lucky I can’t swim away from you right now.”

“Exactly,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s why I had to bring you out here.”

The water is cold, but in this moment, surrounded by the beauty of the lake and the warmth of Hyunjin’s arms, you’ve never felt more alive.

-

06:21 a.m.

The sun climbs higher into the sky, warming your skin as you sit on the smooth rocks by the shore, your clothes drying slowly in the gentle breeze. Hyunjin’s jacket is draped over your shoulders, a welcome layer against the cool air still lingering from your swim. You glance at him and murmur your thanks, to which he responds with a small, warm smile.

Opening a can of soda, you take a sip, the drink now lukewarm but refreshing nonetheless. You tilt your head toward Hyunjin. “So, what’s next on your perfect day itinerary?”

Hyunjin sets his can down and grins, his eyes lighting up with boyish excitement. “There’s this diner I used to go to. It’s not too far from here. They make the best waffles.”

“Waffles, huh?” you ask, raising a brow, though his enthusiasm already has you smiling.

“They’re amazing,” he insists, his hands gesturing animatedly. “Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, with this maple syrup that’s just—” He sighs in exaggerated bliss, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright,” you say, holding up your hands. “I’m sold. Waffles it is.”

Hyunjin chuckles and shifts closer, his hand reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, his fingers lingering for a moment before he tucks the strand behind your ear. Without a word, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s soft and slow, like the morning sun warming your skin.

When he pulls back, his smile is tender, and it makes your heart ache. “I'm glad I met you.”

“Me too,” you say back while placing your hand on his and hold it tightly.

The sunlight hits right on Hyunjin’s eyes, making them shine as he stares at you. You know you've only known him for barely a day but Hyunjin knows things most people doesn't know about you. He knows your prefers your flowers to be red than blue, he knows your dreams you never say out loud but you secretly wish to come true and that makes you feel significant to him as he is significant to you. You believe that is how Hyunjin going to make a mark on you.

“I’m going to take one more lap around the lake before we go,” he says, his voice quiet yet certain.

You nod, but before he can move, you catch his wrist, pulling him back toward you. This time, it’s you who closes the distance, pressing a kiss to his lips. It lingers, a silent plea that feels like it’s carrying the weight of everything you can’t say aloud. You wish for more time—just one more day, one more perfect morning.

Hyunjin seems to sense it, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he gazes at you, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. He leans in to press a featherlight kiss to your lips before pulling away completely.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink, his voice lighter now. “I won’t take too long.”

As you watch him dive back into the water, the sunlight catching on the ripples he leaves behind, you feel a fleeting, impossible sense of forever. For this moment, at least, Hyunjin makes you believe that forever is within grasp.

-

06:51 a.m.

The warmth of the morning sun wraps around you, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin. The sky is alive with soft hues of gold and blue, a masterpiece unfolding before your eyes. Overhead, a flock of birds glides effortlessly, their formation cutting gracefully through the stillness. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to marvel at it all—the simplicity, the beauty, the life you’ve taken for granted.

But the moment fractures.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find Hyunjin slicing through the water, to hear the rhythmic splashes that have become so familiar. Instead, there is only silence. The lake mirrors the sky, undisturbed, serene, and empty.

A flicker of unease takes root in your chest. You scan the shoreline, your gaze darting to every shadow, every ripple. The stillness feels wrong now.

“Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice tentative, breaking the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the cool rocks pressing into your bare feet, your heart beginning to pound against your ribcage. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, but the name hangs in the air unanswered.

The warmth of the morning sun seems to mock you now, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin as the sky stretches overhead, a canvas of soft gold and endless blue. The flock of birds that once felt like a sign of life now drifts aimlessly, their formation a cruel reminder of how fragile everything truly is.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find him slicing through the water, his laughter echoing in the stillness. Instead, there is only silence. The lake reflects the sky perfectly, undisturbed, as if it had swallowed him whole and left no trace.

Your chest tightens. “Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice soft at first, hesitant to break the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the rocks digging into your bare feet as your pulse quickens. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, your voice trembling. But the name dissipates into the air, unanswered.

A flicker of unease blooms into full-blown panic. You scan the water frantically, your eyes darting across every ripple, every shadow. “This isn’t funny!” you yell, your voice rising with desperation. “If you’re hiding, just stop it and come out!”

Still nothing.

Fear grips you like a vice, and before you can stop yourself, you wade into the water. The cold seeps through your skin, biting and relentless, but you don’t care. You splash forward, the ripples spreading around you, as though trying to reach him through sheer force of will.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear. “Answer me!”

The water clings to you, dragging you down as if conspiring with your helplessness. You tread forward a little more, but you can’t go far. Your feet leave the ground, and you freeze, paralyzed by the sudden depth. You try to push forward, but your body resists—muscles locking up with the knowledge that you can’t swim.

Frustration and panic mix into a volatile cocktail in your chest. You slap the water with your hands, gasping for breath, tears streaming as you scream his name again.

“I can’t do this! Hyunjin!” you cry out, the words breaking apart into sobs. The lake offers no comfort, its silence an unbearable void. You flail for a moment, trying to search the surface, but every movement feels futile.

You cling to the thought of him, to his smile, his laughter, the warmth he carried with him like a shield against the world. But now, that warmth feels so far away, unreachable in the depths of the water.

“Hyunjin!” you cry again, weaker this time, the weight of your helplessness pressing down on you. You force yourself back toward the shore, stumbling onto the rocks as you collapse to your knees, breathless and shaking. “Please, don't— don't leave me...”

The water stills behind you, its surface reflecting the endless morning sky. You look out at it, broken and trembling, your heart refusing to accept what your mind is beginning to believe. It can’t be over. Not like this.

“Hyunjin...”

-

08:01 a.m.

The rocks beneath you feel sharp, unforgiving, but you barely notice. You sit there, knees pulled tight to your chest, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you watch the rescue team comb through the lake. Every moment stretches painfully, the weight of silence crushing you with each passing second.

Your fingers dig into your arms as if grounding yourself can keep you from unraveling completely. Then, a shout echoes from the water. You see them—a group of rescuers—working together to pull a body from the depths.

Your breath catches in your throat.

They move with careful precision, carrying the body to shore in a black bag. You feel your body trembling uncontrollably as they approach. One of them steps forward, their expression solemn, as they lower the bag in front of you.

"Is this him?" they ask, their voice heavy with the weight of what they know must be unbearable.

You freeze, staring at the zipper of the bag, your entire being screaming to look and yet refusing at the same time. You can’t do it. You can’t see him like that.

But then your eyes catch something—a flash of red against the black. It’s your hair tie, wrapped around his wrist. You had given it to him, smiling at how absurdly adorable he’d looked wearing it. And now, it’s the confirmation you never wanted.

Your breath hitches as tears flood your vision. "It’s him," you whisper, the words breaking apart as they leave your lips.

Slowly, you reach out, your trembling hand finding his through the body bag.

With shaking fingers, you reach at the lapel of his jacket you're wearing and take off the star-shaped pin, the one you had given him just hours ago. It glints faintly in the sunlight, a small reminder of the joy he carried with him. Carefully, you place it in his palm and fold his fingers around it.

"Keep it," you say softly, tears dripping onto the bag. "It’s yours."

It’s cold—his hand is so cold it sends a shiver through you. But you hold it tight, pressing his lifeless hand to your lips. "Wait for me," you murmur, your voice cracking as the tears spill over. "I’ll see you soon, Hyunjin."

You step back as they zip the bag closed, sealing him away from you forever. The sound cuts through the air like a blade, leaving you raw and hollow.

The ambulance arrives, and they load his body inside. You stand there, watching, your hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. As the vehicle pulls away, your fingers brush against something—a folded piece of paper.

Curious and aching, you pull it out and unfold it with trembling hands. It’s his handwriting, messy but unmistakably his. A list of things he wanted to do today.

Swim in the lake.

Watch the sunrise.

Have waffles for breakfast.

Visit the art gallery.

Hot cocoa at the park.

The last line reads, Buy roses for...

Your lips tremble as you remember the promise you’d made to each other—the promise to keep moving forward, no matter who went first. The memory feels like a cruel joke now, but as you stare at his words, something inside you hardens.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you say to the empty air, "I’m keeping my promise, Hyunjin."

The ambulance disappears down the road, and you stand there, the morning sun casting long shadows around you. Still, you refuse to believe that Hyunjin’s gone. He is not, he just goes to sleep to live a new dream.

-

09:14 a.m.

You sit in the corner booth of the diner, the same one Hyunjin had gushed about just hours ago. The waffles arrive, golden and drenched in syrup, the butter melting into small pools on the plate. You take a bite, the sweetness coating your tongue, but it tastes hollow. Your chest tightens as you remember how Hyunjin’s eyes had sparkled when he described them to you, as though they were a treasure worth crossing the world for.

Now, it feels like swallowing shards of glass.

The drive back to the city is quiet, the hum of the engine filling the void Hyunjin once occupied. His note sits folded on the passenger seat, a reminder of the day you’re piecing together without him. You glance at it at every stoplight, as if his handwriting might come alive and guide you forward.

Your next stop is the art gallery. You find his favorite painting almost instinctively, a swirling masterpiece of color and emotion. Sitting on the bench before it, you let your mind wander. You picture Hyunjin here, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted slightly as he studied the strokes.

"Do you see how the colors bleed into each other?" he would say. "It’s chaotic but still… perfect."

The memory slices through you, and you blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

From the gallery, you walk to a nearby café, the warmth of the cup of hot cocoa in your hands doing little to soothe the chill in your heart. You sit on a bench overlooking the river, the city split in two by its calm flow. The world moves on around you—people walking their dogs, children laughing in the distance—but you’re trapped in stillness.

You think of Hyunjin, of how he was alive and laughing mere hours ago. You think of his voice, his touch, the way he could make the ordinary feel extraordinary.

And now he’s gone.

For the first time, anger stirs beneath your grief. It rises like a storm, raw and uncontrollable. You clench the cup tightly, your knuckles whitening. How could death be so cruel? How could it take someone so vibrant and leave you tethered to feelings that have nowhere to go?

Death is so unfair. It takes the person, but not the love.

-

04:02 p.m.

The world has grown quiet around you, the buzz of the city dimmed to a distant hum as you sit alone on a park bench overlooking the river. The sun dips low in the sky, painting the water with hues of gold and amber. You clutch Hyunjin's jacket tighter around your shoulders, the scent of him still lingering faintly, a bittersweet reminder of everything you've lost—and everything you're about to gain.

The list he left behind is tucked into your pocket, crumpled and worn from your grip throughout the day. You pull it out, scanning the list. There’s only one thing left, unfinished: “Buys roses for…”

He hadn’t finished the sentence. You remember startling him as he jotted it down, and now the incomplete thought feels like a cruel echo. But you know what to do.

You find the nearest florist and step inside, the smell of flowers overwhelming you. "Roses," you tell the florist, your voice quiet but firm. "A bouquet of red roses."

They hand you the bouquet, the petals deep and vibrant, reminiscent of Hyunjin’s flushed cheeks and his soft lips. You trace a fingertip over the delicate blooms before asking for a card.

Sitting at a small table in the corner of the shop, you stare at the blank card. The weight of all you want to say crushes you, an endless stream of emotions that can’t possibly fit onto a single piece of paper.

Still, you write:

For what it’s worth, you showed me that there is such a thing as a perfect day. You made a mark on me, Hyunjin.

Your hand shakes as you finish the words. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, willing the tears to stay at bay. When you’re ready, you fold the card and slip it into the bouquet.

You stand at the corner of the street, clutching the bouquet of roses close to your chest as you wait for the light to turn. The city hums around you, alive and indifferent, the world moving on as it always does. But your mind drifts elsewhere, carried away by memories.

This was the place you met Hyunjin for the first time. You can almost see him standing there, smiling like the world belonged to him. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet so vivid it could have been yesterday. You replay the moment in your mind, the way he held himself with an effortless grace, the way his eyes met yours and lingered, as if he'd been waiting for you his entire life.

The light changes, and the crowd around you begins to move. Lost in your thoughts, you follow them, stepping onto the street.

A distant sound reaches your ears—a horn blaring, tires screeching—but it feels far away, as if it belongs to another world. By the time you register the rushing car, it’s too late. There’s no time to scream, no time to run.

This is it.

-

06:11 p.m.

The world comes back to you in fragments: the cool roughness of asphalt beneath your body, the distant murmur of voices, the sharp tang of blood in the air. Your vision swims, but when it clears, the twilight sky is the first thing you see.

It’s beautiful, painted in hues of lavender and gold, with the faintest blush of pink at the edges. The sight feels distant yet oddly comforting, like a gentle reminder of where you are—and where you’re going.

Your body is heavy, the pain a dull throb that seems to ebb and flow, fading as the seconds stretch on. You’re dimly aware of the rose petals scattered around you, spinning lazily in the air with every gust of wind. They look like they’re floating, as if gravity itself has softened its grip.

You close your eyes briefly and feel something shift inside you—a strange sense of clarity. This is it. You know it, feel it in your very bones. This is your ending.

But there’s no fear. Instead, a deep, resounding calm washes over you, carrying with it the promise of reunion. Hyunjin’s face fills your mind, vivid and bright, his laughter echoing in your ears, his touch still lingering on your skin.

You force your eyes open again, taking in the petals that now rest lightly against your arm, the faint scent of roses mingling with the cool evening air. A soft smile tugs at your lips, even as your breaths come slower, shallower.

Death is not an end, you think. It’s a reunion. It’s a promise kept. It’s my happy ending.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear sirens, but they feel like they belong to another world entirely. You’re beyond that now. Your heart slows, the pain dulls, and in its place is an overwhelming sense of peace.

The light in the sky begins to blur, stars flickering faintly above as if welcoming you home. You can almost feel him, his hand in yours, his voice calling your name like a melody you’ve always known.

Tears slip down your cheeks, but they’re not from sorrow. They’re from relief, from the quiet joy of knowing you’ll see him again, touch him again, love him again.

As the world fades, you exhale one last time, your voice barely a whisper in the wind. “I’m coming, Hyunjin.”

And then there’s nothing but light.

-

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[notseospicy]

NEPTUNE.

Hyunjin x reader. (f,a) SFW

Synopsis: In a distant future where an app can predict your death, a retired dancer and an ambitious swimmer cross path by chance. With their final day looming, they choose to share it together, finding unexpected connection in the fleeting hours they have left. (19,5k words)

In the distant future, death isn’t a mystery. It’s an appointment.

It started with a breakthrough—an algorithm said to be so precise it could predict the exact day someone would die. Governments called it progress, a tool to manage the chaos of an overburdened planet. They named it Mortem. What they didn’t expect was how quickly the app would seep into the fabric of life.

People stopped planning for the long term. Relationships became fleeting, careers lost their permanence, and calendars filled with expiration dates. Death notifications became part of the noise—just another alert blinking alongside weather updates and dinner reservations.

But Mortem wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t tell you the when—only the day. That meant hours, minutes, or fleeting seconds could separate you from the end. For some, it was a mercy. For others, a torment.

Tonight, the city pulses with quiet tension, as it always does. Neon lights flicker against a backdrop of endless skyscrapers, their glass walls reflecting a future built on progress and control. Somewhere, phones buzz softly, notifying their owners of an unchangeable truth: Tomorrow is your last day.

For those who receive the message, there are choices to make. Will they cling to the comforts of routine, pretending the day ahead is like any other? Or will they seek something different—a chance to hold onto life for just a little longer?

Two strangers will soon find themselves asking that same question. Their lives have never crossed before, but by the time tomorrow ends, they will have shared something no one else can understand.

-

5:00 a.m.

The alarm pierces the early morning silence, jolting Hwang Hyunjin awake. With practiced ease, he silences it, sitting on the edge of his bed as he stretches his long arms. His back arches slightly, muscles awakening as he bends forward to gather his thoughts.

The world outside is still cloaked in darkness, but Hyunjin is already lacing up his running shoes. A quick double knot secures them before he presses play on his playlist, music flooding his ears and sharpening his focus.

The crisp, cool morning air greets him as he steps outside. It stings against his skin, but he welcomes it, inhaling deeply as he begins to run. His strides are steady, powerful, each one cutting against the wind. His long, dark hair bounces with the rhythm of his movement, dampened slightly by the early morning mist.

After completing his route, Hyunjin stops by his favorite bakery, where the warm aroma of freshly baked bread envelops him. He orders his usual: a selection of warm pastries and a steaming cup of coffee to go. Back at his apartment, he settles by the window, the city stirring to life beyond the glass. He takes slow bites of his breakfast, sipping his coffee as the first golden rays of sunlight paint the skyline.

It’s moments like this, quiet and unassuming, that he treasures most. They remind him of the beauty in simplicity, grounding him before the demands of the day.

By ten o’clock, Hyunjin arrives at the training center, his focus razor-sharp. He begins with a grueling gym session, pushing his limits to strengthen his arms and back. The burn in his muscles is a familiar companion, one he embraces with resolve. Sweat drips down his chin as he finishes his final set, his determination unwavering.

But this is only the beginning.

Hyunjin steps into the aquatic center, the sharp scent of chlorine filling his lungs. In the locker room, he changes into a sleek pair of swimming briefs.

"How are you feeling, my man?" A friendly pat on his back pulls him from his thoughts.

"Excellent," he replies confidently, catching his reflection in the mirror as he adjusts his swim cap. His friend's grin widens, sensing the energy radiating off him.

"What's your current record?"

"For the 100 or the 200 medley?" Hyunjin asks, slipping the last strands of his hair beneath the cap."You know which one I'm asking."

"47.12." A proud smile curves his lips.

"Bet you can take it to 46 today," his friend challenges, tossing his shoes into his locker.

The words hang in the air, lighting a spark in Hyunjin. He doesn’t need the push—he’s already determined—but the encouragement fuels his fire.

Hyunjin steps onto the pool deck, his reflection shimmering on the surface of the water. Memories of his younger self flicker in his mind, the boy who first discovered the joy of being in the water. Back then, it felt like another world—quiet, weightless, serene.

That love hasn’t faded.

He dips a hand into the pool, splashing the cold water onto the back of his neck. It’s a small ritual, an anchor before the dive. His goggles are snug against his face, a protective barrier between him and the world above.

Hyunjin climbs onto the starting block, his heart steady, his goal clear. He holds the current record in the 100-meter freestyle, but today isn’t about records or accolades. It’s about pushing himself to the edge, chasing a version of himself he’s yet to meet.

The whistle shrieks, and Hyunjin dives.

The water welcomes him, enveloping him in its familiar embrace. Each stroke propels him forward, every kick slicing through the resistance. His body moves in perfect harmony, years of training reducing the act to instinct.

To Hyunjin, the sky isn’t the limit—it’s just the beginning. And soon, he knows, he won’t just swim among the clouds. He’ll soar beyond them.

-

8:02 a.m.

The studio is quiet, save for the soft creak of polished wood beneath your bare feet. Sunlight streams through the high windows, casting long beams across the mirrored walls. You breathe in the familiar scent of resin and faintly worn leather, grounding yourself in this sacred space.

This is how you always start your mornings: alone, warming up in the quiet before the day begins. It’s a small luxury, one you’ve come to cherish in a world that feels anything but certain.

You stand in the center of the room, your reflection poised and still. Slowly, you move through the routine, arms lifting, legs extending, muscles lengthening with every step. The rhythm flows from memory—an old habit, a comfort that never falters.

Then, it happens.

A sharp ping breaks through the silence, echoing off the walls.

You freeze mid-pirouette, your balance wavering. Across the room, your phone sits on the bench, its screen lit up with a single notification. For a moment, you don’t move. It’s not unusual for your phone to chime—messages from parents, reminders for classes—but something about the sound feels heavier this time.

You exhale, lowering your arms. Whatever it is can wait. You’ve always finished what you started, and today will be no different.

You push forward, completing the warm-up with careful precision. The movements are second nature, your body carrying you through muscle memory. But there’s a weight in the air now, and with each step, your focus frays a little more.

Finally, you stop.

The studio falls silent again as you walk toward the bench. Your pulse quickens when you see the notification’s source: Mortem.

You stare at it, your breath catching in your chest. The app sits there, waiting, the message unread. Tomorrow is your last day. Is that what it will say? Or will it be another date, far off in the future?

For a moment, you consider turning away. Dancing has always been your escape, your solace. Maybe one more routine will help you clear your mind.

You step back toward the center of the studio, muscles coiled and ready to begin again. But something stops you. A voice, faint but insistent, whispers at the edge of your thoughts: Face it.

Your hands tremble as you pick up the phone. You swipe the screen, heart pounding in your ears, and open the notification.

Your eyes lock onto the date, and for a moment, everything freezes. Confusion flickers in your chest, followed by the sharp pang of disbelief. You’d told yourself you were ready for this, that the day would come eventually, but seeing it spelled out so plainly shakes you.

And then, as quickly as it came, the chaos fades. You take a deep breath, grounding yourself as you’ve done countless times before. The truth is undeniable, and no amount of fear will change it.

You’ve made your peace with death. You always knew it would come soon. And now, soon is here.

-

3:25 p.m.

Dahlias.

Your mother’s favorite flowers. They stand out vividly against the muted tones of the hospital’s inpatient ward, clutched close to your chest as you make your way to her room.

It started with an ache—sharp and unrelenting—but she didn’t see a doctor until the nausea and loss of appetite became impossible to ignore. Six months ago, the diagnosis came: stage 3 pancreatic cancer. The doctor gave her six months to a year to live, and with every agonizing moment, you’ve come to understand why she wishes the end would hurry along.

But the notification she hopes for never arrives.

“Honey, I haven’t gotten my notification yet,” she mutters the moment you step into her room. Her voice is flat, a mix of irritation and resignation, as her eyes glance at the flowers in your hands.

She’s always irritable after chemo, so you don’t let her tone sting. Instead, you walk to the sink, filling a vase with water.

After the nurse checks her IV and blood pressure, you’re left alone with her. The silence isn’t new, but it feels heavier today.

“They said six months. Why am I still here?” she groans, struggling to adjust her pillow.

You hurry to help, carefully setting the vase of dahlias on the bedside table. They brighten the room immediately.

“They’re beautiful,” she finally says, softening just a little.

“I’m glad you like them,” you reply with a faint smile.

Your mother has always lived with vivacity. She wasn’t one for small dreams; she lived a thousand of them. In her teens, she wanted to be a singer. By her twenties, fashion called her, leading to an internship at a fabric shop. There, she befriended a chef who inspired her to pursue culinary arts. It was during that chapter of her life that she met a classical musician—your father.

And you.

Her dreams shifted then, morphing into family and love, and for years, she poured herself into creating a home filled with warmth. When your father passed, she found a new dream: becoming a florist. She turned it into a thriving business.

Until six months ago.

“Are you eating well?” she asks suddenly, her concern for you breaking through her fatigue.

You nod. “Yes.”

“What did you eat this morning?”

It’s a routine question, part of her new reality where food tastes like nothing. Asking you lets her imagine the flavors she misses.

“I had cranberry ciabatta from the bakery across the street,” you lie gently.

She hums contentedly, closing her eyes. “They make the perfect ciabatta.”

“Mom,” you say softly, taking her frail hand in yours.

“Yes, my darling?”

“What would you cook for your last dinner?” You smile to hold back the lump in your throat.

Her face lights up, pleased by the question. She’s always loved sharing her stories, and now they’re all she has left to give.

“For an appetizer, I’d make eggplant croquettes,” she says with a teasing grin.

“Mom, not the eggplant,” you protest, wrinkling your nose.

Her laugh is weak but genuine. “Okay, okay. How about scampi bruschetta?”

“Now that’s more like it,” you say with exaggerated approval.

She closes her eyes, envisioning her creation. “With thyme and lemon. I’d toast the ciabatta for five minutes—just enough for a crunch—and sear the shrimp with olive oil and a pinch of salt. Then sauté spring onions with thyme, lemon zest, and honey. Acacia honey.”

As she speaks, her voice gains strength, her enthusiasm igniting memories of her former self. Between recipes, she slips in anecdotes, turning her imagined last meal into a tapestry of her life.

You hang on every word because you know these stories matter. They are her, distilled into moments you’ll carry forever.

And yet, the cruel irony doesn’t escape you.

You were supposed to be the one holding her hand at the end, not the other way around. The thought pierces through your heart as you sit there, smiling at her stories. She has spent six months longing for death, only for it to come for you first.

She deserves to rest, to find peace after everything she’s endured. You would have done anything to give her that. But the universe is merciless. It has flipped the natural order, leaving her with the unbearable task of outliving her child.

The injustice of it sits heavy in your chest, threatening to choke you. How is it fair that the one who wants to die must keep fighting, while you—her child—are robbed of the chance to live?

By the time she moves to selecting drinks, her eyelids grow heavy.

“You’re sleepy, Mom,” you whisper, smoothing the duvet around her.

She nods, offering a tired smile. “I’m just a little tired these days.”

You watch her closely, memorizing every line of her face, every glimmer in her weary eyes. “You look beautiful today.”

Her smile deepens, faint but radiant. “I know.”

“You’ve always been beautiful,” you add, unable to stop yourself.

She chuckles weakly. “I look good with cancer, huh?”

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, committing her image to memory.

As you stand to leave, her hand clasps yours, pulling it to her chest. For a moment, it rests there, and just when you think she’s asleep, she lifts her other hand to pat your head.

“You’re a superstar,” she whispers. “I adore you so much.”

Those were her bedtime words to you as a child, and now they hit deeper, wrapping around your heart with bittersweet comfort.

In her eyes, you will always be her child, no matter how much of the world you’ve seen or what you’ve become.

As she drifts to sleep, you kiss the back of her hand, releasing it gently. You take one last look at her before leaving the room.

This isn’t goodbye. It’s not the last mother-daughter moment, either, because in life and in death, she will always be your mother.

For you, death isn’t the opposite of life. It’s simply a part of it.

-

6:16 p.m.

“46.92!”

The words ring out in the humid air of the locker room as Hyunjin’s friend pats his back enthusiastically. They’re both standing under the shower, letting the day’s fatigue wash away.

“I see a gold medal in your near future,” his friend adds, grinning.

Hyunjin can’t stop the smile that creeps onto his face. The thought of victory is intoxicating, the image of standing atop the podium almost tangible. He can taste it—sweet, like honey.

“Beers? What do you think?” another teammate calls out as Hyunjin turns off his shower head.

For a moment, he’s tempted. He deserves it, doesn’t he? Breaking his personal record, getting closer to his dream—surely, a small celebration wouldn’t hurt.

But discipline pulls him back. His body is his temple, and the bread he allowed himself this morning was already a rare indulgence.

“Not tonight,” Hyunjin says, his tone polite but firm.

“Next time, then,” his friend replies easily, shrugging it off as he heads for the lockers.

The others filter out, their laughter and chatter fading down the hallway until silence envelops the space. Hyunjin is alone now, drying his damp hair with a towel. He moves methodically, packing his bag, folding his towel, tucking everything neatly into place.

When he pulls out his phone, a cluster of notifications greets him. Most are messages from his teammates—congratulations, plans for the weekend, harmless banter. He skims through them absentmindedly until one notification stops him cold.

It stands out like a blot of ink on an otherwise pristine page.

Mortem: Tomorrow is your last day.

For a moment, Hyunjin forgets to breathe. The locker room feels impossibly quiet, the white noise of the air conditioning fading into nothingness.

He reads the notification again, hoping—no, praying—that he’s misunderstood. But the words remain the same.

Hyunjin’s legs feel unsteady as he forces himself to move, his bag slipping from his shoulder as he stumbles toward the pool. He steps onto the edge, the scent of chlorine sharp in the air. The water is eerily still, reflecting the overhead lights in perfect symmetry.

He looks down at his reflection, and what he sees isn’t the confident, ambitious swimmer who broke his record earlier today.

It’s someone hollow. A boy with dreams just out of reach, crushed under the weight of a cruel truth.

His fists clench at his sides as anger rises in his chest, hot and unrelenting.

“FUCK YOU!” he screams, his voice tearing through the silence, reverberating across the chamber.

The sound ricochets off the walls, rippling across the surface of the water. His reflection distorts, breaking apart into fragments before settling again, unfamiliar and unkind.

They say death comes at the right time. A gentle visitor, arriving only when it’s supposed to.

But that’s a lie.

It doesn’t care about dreams or sacrifices. It doesn’t care that Hyunjin has spent years of his life in pursuit of one thing, pushing his body and mind to their limits.

It doesn’t care that he’s so close.

And now, when victory is within his grasp, it will take everything away.

He closes his eyes, chest heaving as he fights to steady his breathing. The rage doesn’t subside—it sits in his chest, a molten core of grief and frustration.

Hyunjin knows there’s nothing he can do to stop what’s coming. But for tonight, he lets himself curse the unfairness of it all, his voice echoing into the void until there’s nothing left but silence.

For Hyunjin, death is a thief.

-

7:22 p.m.

Alcohol is never your first choice. You’re not a fan of the bitter aftertaste or the burn as it slides down your throat. But tonight, you need something to dull the ache.

Your phone lies face-up on the bar, the notification glaring at you like a cruel joke. It’s accompanied by offers—a funeral service arrangement, a hotline for counseling.

You stare at the screen, unsure how to even begin processing it all. Sadness feels too small a word for the heap of emotions weighing you down. Beneath the sorrow lies a sliver of joy at the thought of not having to endure another day. And beneath that, a fragile sense of relief that it will soon be over.

How do you explain that to anyone? How do you untangle that mess of feelings, let alone share them with a therapist?

The bartender doesn’t ask. He doesn’t need to. Your sadness is written all over your face.

An hour passes, your drink long since gone, and you finally decide to leave. The bartender approaches, not with the check but with a bottle in hand.

“Here,” he says, taking your empty glass away.

You blink at him, confused. “I’m ready to pay—”

“I’m not taking your money,” he interrupts, pouring liquid from three different bottles into a pair of shot glasses with precise movements.

It clicks belatedly in your mind—some unspoken gesture, one you wouldn’t have recognized if you didn’t spend most of your nights at home.

“May I ask what this is?” you say, eyeing the amber liquid as he slides the shot glass toward you.

“The Three Wise Men,” he says with a faint smile.

“And who are they?”

“Johnnie Walker, Jim Beam, and Jack Daniels,” he explains, gesturing to the bottles on the counter.

“Ah...” A small laugh escapes you. “Very wise indeed.”

He lifts his shot glass, holding it up in a silent toast. “Ready?”

You hesitate, your hand wrapping around the glass. “Any tips for this?”

“Don’t think. Just swallow.”

You nod, mirroring his stance.

“To the three wise men,” he says.

“To the three wise men,” you repeat, exhaling before tipping the shot back. The liquid burns all the way down, leaving a warmth in its wake.

“Whoo...” the bartender exhales, slamming his glass upside down on the counter.

You mimic him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That was…” You pause, laughing nervously. “…something.”

He chuckles, leaning on the counter as his gaze sweeps the bar. “They say you’re either living to die or dying to live.”

The room feels quieter for a moment as his words settle.

He sighs, his voice softening. “But you know what? I only pity the living.”

The statement strikes you in a way you can’t quite articulate. You don’t want to die, not really. But the thought of living, with all its weight, feels far worse.

“Another round?” he offers, holding up one of the bottles.

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I haven’t eaten dinner, so I don’t think that’s… wise.”

“See? You learned from these men,” he teases, capping the bottle with a grin.

You pull out your wallet, sliding a card toward him. “At least let me pay—”

He steps back, hands raised in mock surrender. “Use the money to buy yourself a nice dinner, okay?”

There’s no arguing with him, so you reluctantly tuck your card away. “Thank you,” you say softly, your voice heavier with gratitude than the words can carry.

He nods, his smile kind. “Hey, I needed that shot too.”

You rise from the stool, glancing back as you sling your bag over your shoulder. “Have a great night.”

The bartender is busy with another order, but a few steps later, his voice calls out to you.

“See you on the other side,” he says, raising a hand in farewell.

For a moment, you pause, then nod, offering a faint wave before stepping out into the night.

-

7:45 p.m.

There's nowhere to go.

You’ve been walking aimlessly since leaving the bar, letting your feet lead the way. Your hands are stuffed into your jacket pockets as you stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn green. The thought of returning to your apartment, where silence lingers like an unwelcome guest, feels unbearable.

You could visit your mother again, but the idea of seeing her only to leave her forever—it's too much to handle.

There are so many things you want to do, yet none of them feel right.

The light finally turns green, and you step off the curb. But before you can take another step, something grabs your shoulders and pulls you back. A motorcycle speeds past, narrowly missing you.

Your mind goes blank. Instead of your life flashing before your eyes, everything shuts down for a moment.

"Come on!" a voice urges. A hand takes yours, pulling you across the street just as the light turns red again.

You don’t realize what just happened until you’re safely on the other side. Someone has just saved you. If they hadn’t stopped you, that motorcycle might have dragged your body halfway down the street.

You turn to look at your savior and freeze. He’s beautiful—stunning, even—and for a moment, you’re speechless.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle but tinged with concern.

His words snap you out of your daze, and you hurriedly compose yourself. "Yeah, I’m sorry, I was—"

"No, no, it’s not your fault. That motorcycle ran the light," he interrupts, shaking his head.

Why are you apologizing? You should be thanking him. But when you look at him, the words catch in your throat, so you glance away. "Thank you… for, uh, earlier," you manage to say.

He smiles, and his eyes curve along with it, warm and genuine. But then his next words take you by surprise.

"Your death isn’t today, right? I’m pretty sure it said tomorrow."

You freeze again, alarm bells ringing in your head. How does he know that? You take a step back, suddenly wary.

Realizing he’s scared you, he raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I’m sorry—I should’ve explained first."

He lowers his hands and exhales before continuing, "I was in the bar earlier. I accidentally saw the notification on your phone when I was getting my drink. And then I followed you..." He grimaces. "Wait, that makes me sound like a creep."

He stops rambling and pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping the screen until it lights up. He turns it toward you, revealing a notification identical to yours.

His death is tomorrow, too.

"I guess we’re doomed, huh?" he says with a shrug, his tone oddly lighthearted.

You’re at a loss for words, staring at the screen and then at him. How is it possible that someone like him—this beautiful, radiant man—is doomed?

He puts his phone away and looks at you earnestly. "I know this is sudden, and random, and... probably really weird. But do you want to have dinner with me?"

It is sudden, random, and undeniably strange. But as you look at him—this stranger who saved your life—one thought crosses your mind: What’s the worst that could happen?

You’re going to be dead in a matter of hours anyway.

"Okay," you say.

-

08:10 p.m.

The two of you decide to walk to dinner, hands tucked into your jacket pockets, his adjusting his beanie every few steps. He finally breaks the silence as you pass the second block from where you met.

"I'm Hyunjin, by the way," he says.

You glance at him and give your name in return. When you expect the exchange to end, he extends his hand, and you shake it, feeling the chill of his skin against yours. His long fingers, adorned with rings, seem oddly delicate.

"Nice to meet you," he says with a small smile, pulling his hand back to adjust his beanie again.

“So... when did you get your notification?” he asks after a beat.

“This morning,” you reply, freeing your hands from your pockets now that the silence has been broken. “You?”

He tilts his head back slightly, lips pressing into a thin line. “Two hours ago.”

A strange feeling of unease stirs inside you, but he doesn’t let the conversation falter. “How do you feel about all this?”

“All this?” you echo.

He nods, waiting for your response. You search for the words, trying to name the whirlwind of emotions you’ve carried since the moment you opened that notification.

“I feel... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin stops mid-step, turning to look at you with incredulity. “Alright?”

You shrug, unsure how to elaborate.

“You’re not angry? At all?” His tone sharpens, his brow furrowing in disbelief.

Angry? That hadn’t crossed your mind. There’s an odd peace in accepting what you can’t control, a clarity you never expected. You shake your head. “No.”

His eyes darken, and he mutters, “Well, I am.” He starts walking again, this time faster, his strides growing wide and purposeful.

“I’m livid,” he says through gritted teeth. “If death had a face, I’d punch it.”

You pick up your pace to match his, almost jogging, until he notices and abruptly halts.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his frustration dissolving into concern.

You nod, panting slightly.

He chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. “Sorry, I tend to walk fast when I’m angry.”

The two of you fall into a slower, more deliberate pace, hands swinging at your sides. You want to ask what exactly makes him so angry, but before you can, he stops again.

“We’re here,” he announces, holding the door open for you.

You step inside and immediately feel out of place. The restaurant is elegant, full of people dressed to the nines. Self-consciousness creeps up your spine, and you spin around to look at him—only to bump into his chest.

“Sorry,” you mumble, looking down.

Hyunjin steadies you with a firm grip on your shoulders. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, stepping back to stand behind him.

“Table for two, please,” he tells the hostess.

She leads you to a table by a large window overlooking the city, the full moon casting a gentle glow over the skyline. As she places menus in front of you, Hyunjin mutters a polite thank-you, his attention already elsewhere.

You glance at him as he removes his jacket, folding it neatly over the back of his chair. He seems unbothered by the setting, completely at ease. He flips open the menu, his eyes scanning the options.

“Any ideas on what to have?” he asks, glancing up at you.

You fumble to open your menu, pretending to read it while avoiding his gaze. Finally, you lean forward and whisper, “Don’t you think we’re underdressed?”

He gasps dramatically, as if your words remind him of something crucial. Tugging off his beanie, his dark hair tumbles down, slightly damp and shiny, framing his small face. He ruffles it quickly, then shrugs.

“Steak? Pizza? Pasta?” he suggests, ignoring your question entirely.

You hesitate. When he offered to take you to dinner, you’d imagined a casual spot, maybe a pizza joint or noodle bar. Not this. And while you’re trying not to think about money, the menu’s prices make your stomach turn.

“I think we should go somewhere else,” you say quietly, your eyes darting over the options.

“Why?”

“It’s... too expensive.”

Hyunjin laughs, low and amused. “Do you think I can’t afford it?”

You shake your head frantically. “No, no, that’s not what I meant—”

“I’m kidding,” he interrupts with a grin. Leaning forward, he drops his voice to a whisper. “Honestly? I can probably only afford a plate of pasta and garlic bread.”

Your eyes widen, but his sly smile makes it clear he’s joking again.

“Good thing we’ve got the pity card,” he says, leaning back with a nonchalant shrug.

You freeze, reminded of the pity card. It’s a small perk that comes with the notification—a free pass to almost anything, covered by taxes. A gesture from the system to say, “Sorry you’re dying soon—here’s a little something.”

But the thought of using it makes your skin crawl.

“No,” you say, shaking your head firmly. “Not the pity card.”

“Why not?”

You struggle to explain. “It just... feels wrong. I don’t want their pity.”

Hyunjin raises a brow. “Who cares? We’ll be dead in a few hours.”

Before you can respond, a waiter approaches to pour water and set down a plate of bread. Hyunjin thanks them softly, then turns back to you.

“It’s not like we’re taking their pity with us to the grave,” he says, lifting his glass. “So, what do you say?”

You glance at the clock on the wall. Four hours left. Soon, none of this—money, pity, pride—will matter.

“We only die once, right?” you say, lifting your glass awkwardly.

Hyunjin laughs, his grin lighting up his face. “We only die once,” he echoes, clinking his glass against yours.

-

8:20 p.m.

You're not much of a conversationalist, so Hyunjin takes it upon himself to break the silence, his curiosity about you driving him forward. He has a myriad of questions on his mind but decides to start simple.

"May I ask what you do?"

His question makes you look up at him, and after a moment's hesitation, you place your hands under the table and answer with a sheepish smile, "I'm a ballet instructor."

The pieces click into place for him—the flowy skirt, black tights, and your hair tied neatly into a bun.

"So, you're a ballerina," Hyunjin remarks, nodding thoughtfully.

"I was," you correct him softly.

He tilts his head, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was?"

"I'm retired," you say briefly, offering another shy smile.

Hyunjin blinks in confusion. Retired? You seem far too young for that. "May I ask why?"

You adjust the cutlery in front of you, your hand steady despite the weight of your words. "I got into an accident a couple of years ago. I badly injured my leg, and the doctor insisted I stop dancing if I wanted to keep walking..." Your voice trails off, and your lips curve into a sad smile as you avert your gaze.

The weight of your story hits him. He can empathize with the sense of loss; after all, his situation is eerily similar. You had to give up your passion because of an accident, while he faces an abrupt end because of the ticking clock. Both of you are here, grappling with the unfairness of it all on what could be your final hours.

"It's like that saying," you continue, "‘Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.’ So that’s what I’m doing now." You tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and flash him a reassuring smile, but Hyunjin isn’t convinced. He recognizes the facade; he’s worn it himself.

"And you're not mad about it?" he asks, fully aware he might be treading into private territory.

"I was, for a long time. But eventually, I realized there’s no point in drowning myself in anger."

This time, your smile is different—genuine, even serene. It’s as if you’ve made peace with the cruelty of life, embracing it with quiet strength. Hyunjin admires it, though he knows how hard it must’ve been for you to reach that place.

He takes a breath and shifts the conversation, sensing the need to lighten the mood. "So, you’re teaching at a dance company?"

"A dance academy," you correct him with a nod. "I teach girls between the ages of seven and sixteen."

He can picture it easily—you, guiding a room full of eager young dancers, patient and warm. You probably make their favorite teacher list without even trying.

"And what about you?" you ask, lifting your glass of water for a sip.

"I'm an athlete," he replies.

"Ah..." you murmur, intrigued. "What sport?"

"Take a guess," he says with a playful grin, leaning back in his seat.

Your laughter fills the air, and you give him a once-over, your eyes narrowing as you search for clues. After a moment of deliberation, you venture, "You’re tall and lean so... basketball?."

Hyunjin chuckles, pleased with the compliment but shakes his head. "Nope."

You purse your lips in thought. "Soccer?"

"I like soccer," he admits, leaning forward, "but that’s not it."

You groan in mock defeat, covering your face with your hands. "I’m terrible at this!"

Hyunjin laughs, finding your reaction endearing. "I’m a swimmer," he reveals.

Your eyes widen in surprise. "That’s amazing!"

"I was scouted for the national team," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I was supposed to compete this summer."

The realization of his words hits him mid-sentence, and the excitement drains from his face. Summer is two months away—a future he knows he won’t see.

"That’s incredible," you say gently, your empathetic smile offering comfort.

Just then, the waiter arrives with the menus, saving the atmosphere from slipping into melancholy.

"Would you like to order some wine?" the waiter asks, presenting a list.

You scan the menu and suggest, "I think I’ll have white wine."

Hyunjin glances over the options, muttering to himself, "Vanilla and peach... sounds nice."

"Viognier, sir?" the waiter recommends.

Hyunjin looks to you for approval, and your small nod seals the deal. "We’ll have that," he says.

The wine arrives alongside your meals, and the two of you fall into a rhythm of eating, sipping, and conversing between bites.

"How long have you been swimming?" you ask.

"Since I was eight," he replies, pausing to take a sip of wine.

"Wow. I didn’t even realize I wanted to be a ballerina until I was twelve," you admit.

He’s struck by how much more at ease you seem now, whether it’s the wine or simply warming up to him. "What did you want to be before that?"

"A lot of things. An astronaut, a doctor, a ventriloquist..." You pause, your cheeks flushing with a laugh. "A vampire slayer."

Hyunjin bursts into laughter, shaking his head in disbelief. "You really wanted to be everything."

"My mom broke my heart when she said I couldn’t be a vampire slayer," you say, your expression deadly serious.

"Honestly? I’d be sad too," he jokes, grinning.

You lean in, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. "Then she told me this: ‘It’s okay if you can’t achieve your dream. You can always go back to sleep and live a new dream.’"

Your laughter carries across the table, and Hyunjin smiles faintly, though the sentiment hits too close to home. Finding a new dream is one thing—but having the time to chase it is another entirely.

You finish your meal and dab your lips with a napkin. "The academy I teach at isn’t far from here, just a few blocks away. I actually have to stop by to grab a few things."

You glance at him, your expression soft. "Do you want to come with me?"

The invitation catches him off guard, but the warmth behind it makes it impossible to refuse.

"I’d love to," Hyunjin answers, smiling. For a fleeting moment, he feels less alone in facing the inevitable—because now, at least, he has a friend.

-

09:15 p.m.

"We'd like to pay with this," Hyunjin slides his phone across the table to the waiter.

The waiter studies the screen for a moment. You can see the subtle shift in his expression as realization dawns—Hyunjin's pity card, stark proof of his limited time, is what he offers as payment. The waiter looks back at both of you, his eyes softening, probably assuming this is some kind of farewell dinner.

He forces a smile and says, "We'll process it right away."

Hyunjin raises his eyebrows at you, a small grin tugging at his lips as if to say, Here it comes.

Sure enough, the waiter, taking a step away, turns back around and says solemnly, "We're very sorry."

Both of you burst into quiet laughter, your shared amusement breaking the gravity of the moment.

"That's one!" you tease, raising your coffee cup as if to toast.

When the waiter returns with Hyunjin's phone and the bill, his demeanor is still tinged with melancholy. As Hyunjin signs, the waiter fidgets slightly, clearly wrestling with unspoken words. In the end, all he offers is another subdued, "I'm very sorry."

You glance at Hyunjin with a smirk. "Two," you whisper under your breath.

The waiter departs, but not before the lady at the till calls after you as you're leaving. "Thank you, and we're very sorry."

The moment the door closes behind you, you and Hyunjin burst into unrestrained laughter.

"A hat trick!" he says, shaking his head, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

As you stroll to the academy, you find yourselves critiquing the meal like professional food critics, though the details blur in your slightly tipsy haze. The wine stands out—delicious enough that you’d kept asking for refills. Thankfully, the cool evening air helps clear your head by the time you reach the academy.

You unlock the studio door, the faint scent of wood polish and faint traces of rosin welcoming you. The dim overhead lights flicker on, casting a warm glow over the polished floor and mirrored walls. Hyunjin steps inside, his eyes widening as he takes in the space.

"This is where you work?" he asks, his voice tinged with awe.

You nod. "My second home."

Hyunjin walks around the room, his footsteps echoing softly against the floor. He pauses by the ballet barre, running his fingers lightly over the smooth wood. "This place is beautiful," he murmurs.

You smile, setting your bag down. "It has its charm, doesn't it?"

His gaze falls on the wall of framed photos—groups of smiling children in costumes, candid shots of performances. "Are these your students?"

"Yes," you say, walking up beside him. "They’re the reason I still love what I do."

Hyunjin glances at you, his expression soft. "I can see why they'd love you as a teacher."

The compliment catches you off guard, and your cheeks warm. Quickly, you motion to the barre. "Want to try something?"

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you offering to teach me ballet?"

"Why not?" you say, grinning. "You’re an athlete. It’ll be fun."

-

10:25 p.m.

You stand in front of him, arms crossed, as Hyunjin tentatively grips the barre. His tall frame looks comically out of place in the elegant studio.

"Okay," you begin, stepping closer. "We’ll start with something simple—a plié."

Hyunjin looks at you skeptically. "A what?"

You laugh softly. "It’s just bending your knees. Easy."

Demonstrating, you lower yourself gracefully, your knees bending outward as your back stays straight. Hyunjin watches, nodding, and attempts to mimic you.

His execution is… not as graceful.

"No, no," you say, laughing, stepping behind him to adjust his posture. "Straighten your back. And don’t forget to keep your heels on the ground."

You place your hands lightly on his shoulders to guide him. The moment your hands touch him, he stiffens, looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

"Relax," you say softly, your gaze meeting his.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and finally eases into the position. You step around to face him, studying his form critically.

"Not bad," you tease. "But your turnout needs work."

"What’s that?" he asks, genuinely curious.

You tap his knee gently. "It’s the angle of your legs. Let me show you."

You crouch slightly, your hands brushing his calf as you adjust his stance. He watches you intently, his dark eyes following your every move. When you glance up, you find him staring.

"Something wrong?" you ask, standing upright.

He blinks and shakes his head. "No, it’s just… you’re really good at this."

You chuckle, stepping back. "It’s my job."

Encouraged by your patient coaching, Hyunjin tries another plié. It’s still a little stiff, but he manages to get through it without wobbling.

"See? You’re getting the hang of it," you say, clapping lightly.

"Don’t lie," he says, laughing.

"Okay, you’re still stiff," you admit with a grin, "but that’s expected. Ballet is all about control and precision."

Hyunjin straightens up, rolling his shoulders. "It’s harder than it looks."

"Now you understand why ballerinas are tough," you say, playfully nudging him.

He laughs, the sound light and carefree. "Okay, what’s next?"

You hesitate, considering. "Maybe a pirouette?"

"A what?"

You demonstrate the spin, moving with effortless grace. Hyunjin stares, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, no," he says, laughing nervously. "I’ll break something."

You step closer, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I’ll guide you. Trust me."

As you position him for the spin, your hand lingers on his waist. The closeness brings an unexpected tension between you, and for a moment, neither of you moves.

"You ready?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin nods, his eyes locked on yours.

"Okay. One… two… three."

He spins—clumsily, of course—but the two of you dissolve into laughter as he nearly stumbles into you. You catch his arm to steady him, the laughter fading as you find yourselves standing mere inches apart.

"Not bad for your first time," you say softly, your hand still on his arm.

Hyunjin smiles, his gaze lingering on you. "Only because I had a good teacher."

-

10:55 p.m.

The quiet of the studio wraps around you like a soft blanket, interrupted only by the faint hum of the overhead lights. Hyunjin leans against the barre, watching you adjust your pointe shoes with practiced precision. The thought has been circling his mind since you both left the restaurant, but now, in this space that seems so deeply a part of you, he can’t hold back his curiosity.

“So…” he begins cautiously, his voice light but uncertain, “how did it happen?”

You pause, looking up at him with a flicker of confusion.

“I mean, your accident,” he clarifies quickly, his expression apologetic, as though he’s afraid he’s overstepped. “If it’s okay to ask.”

A faint smile touches your lips, and you straighten, leaning against the mirror. “Two years ago,” you say softly, the words feeling fragile yet certain, as if the memory lives just on the edge of your voice.

Hyunjin stays quiet, giving you space to continue.

“I was preparing for an audition—Swan Lake,” you say, your eyes shimmering with a mix of pride and pain. “I’d been working on my fouettés for weeks, trying to perfect all thirty-two of them. It was… everything to me.”

He can see it in your expression, the longing for something lost yet deeply cherished.

“The morning of the audition, I was rushing to catch the bus,” you continue, your hand gesturing lightly as though retracing steps from that day. “I was almost out the door when I realized I’d forgotten my shoes—the ones I believed would bring me luck. So, I ran back to get them.”

Your voice falters, and Hyunjin feels a pang of dread, already sensing what comes next.

“When I stepped out of my apartment building, a car came out of nowhere.”

You take a deep breath, your fingers brushing over the edge of the barre. “It wasn’t even going that fast, but the way I fell… My leg took the worst of it. Surgery, physical therapy… the usual.”

Hyunjin swallows hard, unsure what to say. “Do you… regret going back for the shoes?”

A soft, almost bitter laugh escapes you. “Every day.”

The silence that follows feels heavy and fragile, a moment suspended between reflection and grief.

“Can you dance at all now?” Hyunjin asks gently, his voice barely above a whisper, unsure if he wants to hear your answer.

You surprise him by smiling. “Why don’t I show you?”

Standing in the center of the studio, a quiet determination settles over you. The space transforms as you raise your arms, your posture suddenly regal, every movement deliberate and graceful.

“This is the introduction to Black Swan, Act III,” you say, your voice steady. “It’s what I’d prepared for the audition.”

Hyunjin nods, unable to take his eyes off you as you begin to move. You are mesmerizing, every gesture steeped in a passion he can feel even in the silence of the room. But as you transition into the fouettés, he notices the strain in your expression. Your balance falters, your leg wobbles, and before he can call out, you tumble to the floor.

“Are you okay?” Hyunjin rushes to your side, dropping to his knees as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Instead of answering, you let out a loud, breathless laugh that echoes through the studio. You collapse back onto the polished floor, holding your stomach as the laughter spills out, unstoppable.

Hyunjin blinks, confused at first, but the sound of your laughter pulls him in. A small smile tugs at his lips. “You’re unbelievable,” he mutters, lying down beside you.

The quiet returns, the two of you staring up at the ceiling.

After a moment, you speak, your voice softer now, almost wistful. “Sometimes, I like to think there’s another me out there, one who made it to the audition, who got to live that dream.”

Hyunjin turns his head to look at you. Your expression is calm, tinged with longing but also a quiet acceptance.

“And you know what?” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m happy for her and that’s enough for me.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say, so he simply stays beside you, sharing the silence. There’s something achingly beautiful about your acceptance, the way you’ve found peace in the life you have now.

In that moment, he realizes how much strength it takes to smile at what could have been and quietly say, That’s enough.

-

11:13 p.m.

The studio falls into a comfortable silence, the kind that feels like a warm embrace. After a while, you sit up, brushing your hands over the smooth wood of the floor, and glance at Hyunjin lying beside you. He looks peaceful, almost lost in thought, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as an idea forms.

“I showed you my dancing,” you say, breaking the quiet. “Now I want to see you swim.”

Hyunjin’s head turns toward you, his brows lifting slightly in surprise. “You want to see me swim?” he asks, his voice soft yet curious.

You nod, leaning back on your palms. “It’s only fair. I want to see you doing what you do best.”

For a moment, he studies you, as if trying to gauge whether you’re serious. Then, a small chuckle escapes him, and he pushes himself up to sit beside you. “Alright,” he says, a playful smile spreading across his face. “If you really want to.”

He rises to his feet effortlessly and extends a hand to you, his fingers warm and steady as they wrap around yours. With a strong tug, he pulls you up, but the motion catches you off guard, and your body stumbles forward, colliding with his.

Your breath hitches as you find yourself pressed against him, your hands instinctively landing on his chest for balance. Hyunjin’s hands settle on your waist, steadying you, and for a moment, the world feels still again—but this time, it’s charged with something unspoken.

You glance up at him, and your heart skips a beat when you notice his gaze lingering on your lips. The air feels heavier, your pulse quickening under his touch. His expression is unreadable, his eyes soft yet intense, as if caught in a moment of indecision.

Flustered, you look away quickly, stepping back to put some distance between you. “I should, um, clean out my locker first,” you say, your voice slightly rushed. “Then we can go.”

Hyunjin blinks, the spell broken, and his lips curve into a small, understanding smile. “Alright,” he replies simply, his tone easy and light, as though nothing happened.

You turn toward the studio door, your cheeks warm as you try to steady your racing thoughts. Behind you, Hyunjin’s footsteps follow quietly, his presence a steady comfort in the stillness of the room.

-

11:49 p.m.

As the taxi pulls up in front of the aquatic center, Hyunjin is the first to step out. The cool night air brushes against his skin as he circles around to your side, offering his hand to help you out of the back seat. You take it with a quiet "thank you," and he smiles softly in response, his fingers lingering for a moment before he lets go.

Inside, the center is quiet, the fluorescent lights casting a pale glow over the sleek, tiled interior. Hyunjin leads the way, his footsteps echoing lightly in the stillness, but after a few steps, he notices you’re no longer beside him.

He turns around, his brows knitting together in concern. “What’s wrong?” he asks.

You hold up your phone, its screen glowing in the dim light, and his eyes fall to the numbers displayed there. It’s past midnight. The date has turned, and the realization hits him like a weight in his chest—this is it. The day has come.

“It’s today,” you say quietly, your voice steady but tinged with sadness.

Hyunjin studies your face, searching for any sign of fear. “Are you scared?” he asks softly.

You don’t answer right away, your lips curving into a sad smile instead. Then, with a steadying breath, you meet his gaze and say, “Promise me something.”

His heart tightens at your tone. “What is it?”

“If my time comes first,” you begin, your voice cracking slightly, “I want you to move on. Keep going. Finish your day, okay?”

Hyunjin’s chest tightens, his head shaking before you can even finish the thought. “No,” he says firmly, stepping closer to you. “I can’t do that. Not unless you promise me the same thing.”

You hesitate, your eyes glistening under the soft glow of the lights. After a moment, you nod, your voice a whisper. “Okay. We’ll both keep going.”

He takes your hand in his, his grip firm but comforting. “We’ll do it together,” he says, his voice steady and resolute.

You smile at him then, soft and bittersweet, and he feels his heart ache at how brave you are in this moment.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand gently and tilts his head. “So,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips, “do you still want to see me swim, or is there something else you’d rather do?”

You shake your head, a quiet laugh escaping you. “I still want to see you swim,” you insist, your determination making his heart feel lighter.

He chuckles softly, releasing your hand and motioning toward the pool. “Alright then,” he says. “Let’s make this count.”

With that, he turns and walks with you into the aquatic center, the weight of the clock pressing on both of you, but your shared promise holding it at bay for just a little longer.

-

12:07 a.m.

The sharp, unmistakable scent of chlorine stings your nose as you step inside the aquatic center. The lights overhead cast shimmering reflections across the vast, still water, and you pause, taking it all in. The pool is immense, almost intimidating in its size, with the kind of quiet that feels both peaceful and eerie.

You walk to the edge, peering over cautiously. The water glimmers below, deceptively inviting, but as your gaze shifts downward, the sheer depth of the pool sends a chill through you.

“Can you swim?” Hyunjin’s voice cuts through the stillness, pulling your focus to him.

You shake your head, your lips pressing into a tight line. “No,” you admit softly. “I almost drowned once when I was ten. I’ve been afraid of swimming ever since.”

Hyunjin studies you for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, with a small smile, he says, “It’s not too late to learn, you know.”

You hesitate, your arms wrapping around yourself. The idea alone sends your pulse racing, the memory of water filling your lungs still too vivid in your mind. “It’s… not that easy,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

Hyunjin steps closer, holding out his hand to you. His voice is gentle but insistent. “Come with me. I can teach you how to swim… without the water.”

You glance at his outstretched hand, uncertainty swirling inside you. But the way he looks at you, so patient and reassuring, nudges you forward. Slowly, you nod.

“Alright,” you say, placing your hand in his.

He leads you to a smaller pool, its drained interior revealing its tiled floor. Hyunjin climbs down the ladder first, but the rungs don’t reach all the way to the bottom, and you watch as he drops the last few feet with an easy, practiced grace.

“It’s not so bad,” he calls up to you, extending his arms. “Come on. I’ll guide you down.”

You grip the ladder, your knuckles whitening as you lower yourself carefully. Hyunjin watches you closely, his gaze steady and encouraging. But as you near the bottom, your foot slips on the slick metal.

Your heart lurches as you lose your grip, your body tilting backward into the empty pool.

“Hyunjin!” you cry out, the name leaving your lips instinctively as panic seizes you.

For a split second, the world tilts and blurs, your breath catching in your throat. The feeling of falling stretches out endlessly, your chest tightening with dread. Is this it? Is this the moment everything ends?

The silence in the pool amplifies the rush of your heartbeat, drowning out everything else.

-

12:15 a.m.

It all happens so fast that Hyunjin doesn’t fully register the moment until you’re lying at the bottom of the drained pool, unmoving. A jolt of fear grips him as he rushes to your side, kneeling beside you.

“Hey,” he calls softly, his voice trembling. His hand hovers over your shoulder, unsure whether to shake you or give you space. Your eyes remain closed, and there’s no reaction. For a second, his breath hitches.

Then, just as his chest tightens with panic, you let out a low whine, your hand reaching for the back of your head. Relief crashes over him so strongly that he nearly laughs out loud.

“You scared me!” he exclaims, leaning closer as he gently brushes his fingers against the back of your head to check for any injury. “Does it hurt here?”

You wince but then immediately chuckle, brushing him off. “That would’ve been such an anticlimactic death,” you joke, trying to sit up.

Hyunjin lets out a shaky laugh, torn between exasperation and amusement. “I don’t think I’d recover from that,” he mutters, helping you up. To make sure you’re okay, he holds up three fingers with a mock-serious expression. “Alright, genius. How many fingers am I holding up?”

Rolling your eyes, you swat his hand away, a grin tugging at your lips. “I’m fine, Hyunjin.”

“You sure?” He narrows his eyes, clearly still worried.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you reply, waving him off. “Now, are you going to teach me how to swim or not?”

He laughs and takes a step back, gesturing for you to follow him to the center of the empty pool. “Alright, since you’re so eager. Do you have a swimming style in mind?”

“Uh… backstroke?”

“Backstroke, huh? Fancy choice.” He teases, listing a few others—freestyle, breaststroke, butterfly—all with a playful grin. Shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it to the side, he positions himself in front of you, standing tall and confident.

“Okay,” he says, holding his arms out in front of him. “Rest your back on my arms. I’ll guide you.”

You hesitate, your brows knitting together. “I don’t know, I might be too heavy—”

“Seriously?” He rolls his eyes and interrupts you. “I’m an athlete. I’m strong enough to hold you. Just trust me.”

Still unsure, you eventually take a deep breath and lean back, letting your weight settle onto his arms. His grip is steady, firm, and reassuring.

“See? No problem,” he says, his voice soft now, coaxing you to relax. “Alright, keep your body straight, like you’re floating on water. Flap your arms back and kick your feet forward, just like this.”

You follow his guidance, mimicking the movements, and he begins to move backward, gently carrying you along. It feels so real that for a moment, you let yourself believe you’re actually swimming.

But then your focus drifts as you glance at him—his sharp features illuminated under the pool’s dim lights, the concentration in his expression, the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the world.

He catches your gaze and quirks a brow. “What?”

Flustered, you quickly look away, and your hand smacks against the tiled wall at the end of the pool. Startled, you sit up.

“Whoa, swimmer!” Hyunjin teases, his laughter echoing in the empty pool. “If this was real, your head would’ve hit the wall instead of your hand.”

You can’t help but laugh with him, the moment so lighthearted and surreal that it temporarily pushes the looming reality of the day out of your mind.

Hyunjin chuckles as your laughter fades, his hand brushing back his damp hair. The glimmer in his eyes is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of something softer, almost protective, as he watches you sit up fully, still smiling from his teasing.

"Alright," he says, crossing his arms. "You’re not bad for someone who’s never been in the water."

You roll your eyes but can’t help grinning. “Thanks to my amazing teacher, right?”

He bows theatrically. “Obviously. Natural talent helps too, but I’ll let you take some credit.”

You shake your head, standing up as you stretch your arms. “Well,” you say with mock seriousness, “now that I’ve impressed you with my not-so-real swimming skills, it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

Hyunjin straightens, his grin widening. “Oh, you want to see me swim for real?”

“Of course,” you reply, stepping aside and gesturing toward the other end of the pool. “How else am I supposed to judge if you’re actually any good?”

He smirks at your challenge, the competitive spark in his eyes lighting up. “Alright, I’ll show you,” he says confidently, already pulling his hoodie back on. “But don’t blink—you might miss how fast I am.”

You laugh, following him as he leads the way out of the drained pool, anticipation bubbling in the air between you.

-

12:55 a.m.

The aquatic center feels almost otherworldly in its stillness, the faint scent of chlorine hanging in the air. When Hyunjin finally reappears, dressed in nothing but his swimming trunks, towel, and goggles in hand, it takes you by surprise. His tall, lean frame seems even more striking now, the hoodie he'd worn earlier having hidden the breadth of his shoulders and the defined lines of his physique.

You catch yourself staring, and before you can stop it, an awkward giggle slips out. Hyunjin tilts his head, confused but amused. "What?" he asks.

Shyly, you admit, "Nothing, I just— I was starting to get creeped out being here all alone when you went to change."

He chuckles softly, walking to the edge of the pool. He crouches to scoop water into his hand, splashing it onto the back of his neck before straightening up.

"I need to warm up first," he says casually. You nod, stepping back to give him space.

Hyunjin drops to the ground and starts doing push-ups, his muscles flexing with each movement. You’re mesmerized despite yourself, your gaze tracing the way his body moves with fluid strength. Feeling the heat creep up your face, you force yourself to look away just as he finishes, bouncing lightly on his feet to shake out his wrists and arms.

"Don’t blink," he says, smirking as he heads toward the pool. "I swim so fast, you might miss it."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you respond with a teasing, "I’ll try to keep up."

Hyunjin dives in, his body cutting through the water with ease. The rhythmic splashing fills the air, and you can’t help but admire him. Watching him move with such precision and grace, he looks almost otherworldly—like a god emerging from the sea as he surfaces and climbs out of the pool.

The sight of water beading on his skin makes you avert your gaze, your heart racing. Grabbing the towel he'd left behind, you hand it to him without meeting his eyes.

"What did you think?" he asks, running the towel over his hair.

"Eh, it was alright," you tease with a grin.

Hyunjin raises an eyebrow at your playful jab but chuckles, grabbing a stopwatch from his things. "Alright, critic. Let’s make it official. Time me this time."

"I don’t know if I’ll get it right," you protest, but he waves your concerns off.

"It doesn’t have to be perfect," he reassures you, securing his swimming cap and goggles. Once he’s ready, he asks, "You ready?"

You move closer to the pool’s edge, holding up the stopwatch. "Ready when you are."

Hyunjin steps onto the starting block, his form taut and focused. You start the countdown, your voice echoing slightly in the vast space. "Three... two... one!"

At the sound of "one," he dives in, and the water comes alive with his movement. Squatting down, you watch intently as he powers through the length of the pool and then back again, his speed almost unbelievable. The closer he gets to the edge, the tighter your grip on the stopwatch becomes.

When his hand finally slaps the wall, you hit the button, exhaling in relief.

Hyunjin surfaces, wiping his face. "What’s the time?"

You glance at the stopwatch, still catching your breath. "Forty-six point six-five," you announce, your voice tinged with excitement.

For a moment, Hyunjin looks puzzled, then his expression lights up. Dropping his towel, he strides over and lifts you effortlessly by the waist, spinning you around.

"Wait—did you break your record?" you ask, half-laughing and half-stunned.

He nods, grinning, but the elation fades quickly. As he sets you back down, his smile dims, his joy giving way to something more subdued.

"Hyunjin, what’s wrong?" you ask, concerned.

He shakes his head, forcing a small smile. "It’s nothing," he murmurs. Without another word, he excuses himself to wash up, leaving you alone with the faint ripples in the pool and a lingering sense that something deeper is on his mind.

-

01:08 a.m.

The hot shower does little to clear Hyunjin’s mind, the cloud of thoughts stubbornly lingering as he dries off and dresses. He sighs, running a towel halfheartedly through his damp hair before giving up and heading out.

The sound of his footsteps echoes softly as he exits the changing room, and he sees you standing by the bulletin board, seemingly engrossed in its contents. At the sound of his approach, you turn, your face lighting up with a soft smile. Hyunjin feels something warm unfurl in his chest—a comfort he hadn’t expected.

“You didn’t dry your hair properly,” you tease gently, pointing to the still-dripping strands clinging to his neck.

He rubs the back of his head sheepishly, and you tilt yours thoughtfully. “How about some hot drinks after this?”

Hyunjin arches a brow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “Hot drinks, huh? I’ve got just the thing.”

The short walk to his apartment is quiet but companionable, and when Hyunjin opens the door, he apologizes for the small, bare setup. His apartment is modest and practical—one room with everything visible at a glance—but he doesn’t seem embarrassed, just matter-of-fact.

He heads straight for the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey from a cabinet. “This is what I mean by hot drinks,” he says, smirking as he pours two glasses.

You both take a sip, and the burn of the alcohol draws simultaneous gasps. Laughing, Hyunjin suggests snacks to enjoy the drinks with and disappears back into the kitchen.

While he’s gone, your attention is drawn to a shelf lined with photos, medals, and trophies. You step closer, taking in the collection of memories. There’s Hyunjin on a podium, his face glowing with pride as he holds up a medal; Hyunjin mid-dive, captured in perfect form; Hyunjin smiling so brightly that the photo seems to radiate his joy.

When he returns, balancing a plate of snacks, he pauses beside you, his gaze falling on the same shelf. For a moment, there’s silence, just the two of you standing there, and then Hyunjin lets out a soft sigh.

Hyunjin sets everything down on the small table, but his eyes linger on the shelf filled with memorabilia. The once-vivid memories of his accomplishments now feel distant, like faded photographs of a life that no longer feels like his own.

He steps closer, his gaze tracing over the medals hanging neatly on hooks, the trophies gleaming faintly under the dim light, and the framed photos of him on various winner's podiums. He can almost hear the echo of applause, the feel of a medal being draped around his neck, the weight of victory sitting proud on his shoulders.

But the applause has long since faded, and what hangs over him now is a heavier truth: it will all become nothing.

Hyunjin swallows hard, the realization pressing against his chest like a stone. Every record he broke, every trophy he held high—soon, none of it will matter. No one will remember him or the things he did. The glory, the pride, the recognition—it will all vanish as if it never existed.

He lets out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “All of this... it’s meaningless now. Everything I’ve done—it’s nothing. Soon, it’ll all be forgotten.”

The weight of his words fills the room, thick and suffocating. His shoulders slump as he drops his gaze, unable to meet your eyes. For a moment, he feels like the water he’s so accustomed to—a surface rippling with movement, but underneath, a deep void pulling him down.

You stand beside him, quietly taking in his anguish. Finally, you turn to him, your voice steady, a soft but unyielding anchor against the tide of his despair. “I disagree with you, Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin looks at you, surprised by your tone.

“This is... your whole life and it shows that you achieved a lot of great, wonderful things. You can see how far you've become, your triumphs and failures, everything that makes you who you are now,” you say, your eyes locking with his. “And just because the whole world doesn't know how great you are this doesn't mean it's nothing. This is not nothing, this is everything.”

He watches you intently, your words weaving through the storm of his thoughts like threads of light. For a moment, he feels the weight on his chest lift, just enough for him to draw a deeper breath.

It's true that his dream is to make a mark in the world, he wants to be remembered by the world but as he looks at you, Hyunjin realizes that it only takes one person to know what he capable of. He doesn't need the whole world to know that he's great, he only needs one that fully acknowledges him as one.

-

01:22 a.m.

Hyunjin's words linger in the air, heavy with vulnerability, and for the first time since meeting him, you realize just how deeply he craves to make a mark on this world. It isn’t just about the trophies on his shelf or the accolades he’s earned—it’s about the story he wants to leave behind, the proof that he existed, that he mattered.

You see it in the way his fingers hover over the medals, in the wistful look in his eyes as they trace the photos on the shelf. For all his confidence and charisma, there’s a quiet fear beneath it all—a fear of being forgotten, of fading into obscurity when his time is up.

“Hyunjin…” you say softly, stepping closer to him. He doesn’t look at you right away, his gaze fixed on a photo of him on a podium, his smile bright but distant, like a memory that no longer feels real.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to say. But then, the words spill out. “You are something and you're a fool for thinking otherwise.”

That catches his attention. He turns to look at you, his expression unreadable, and for a second, you worry you’ve said too much. But then his lips part, as if he’s about to say something, and he stops himself.

Instead, he just looks at you. Really looks at you. And in his eyes, you see something shift—a softening, a quiet acknowledgment of your words sinking in.

You feel your pulse quicken, the air between you charged with something unspoken. “And I know that we'll go into oblivion soon,” you continue, your voice steady but quiet, “but I'm still here and I know, I know how remarkable you are.”

Hyunjin’s gaze doesn’t waver, and for the first time, you see him without the walls he’s so carefully built around himself. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out as if to steady himself—or maybe you.

“I don’t know if I can believe that yet,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s almost a whisper. “But… thank you.”

The way he’s looking at you now feels different—like he’s searching for something, something only you can give him. And as the silence stretches between you, you feel the weight of it shift into something warmer, something that pulls you closer to him without either of you realizing it.

When Hyunjin leans in, it isn’t sudden. It’s slow, deliberate, as if he’s giving you every chance to step back. But you don’t. You hold your ground, your breath catching as his face inches closer to yours.

And when his lips finally meet yours, it’s soft, almost hesitant, like he’s asking a question he’s too afraid to voice aloud. But as you kiss him back, the answer becomes clear. For this moment, at least, he isn’t alone.

Hyunjin pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. His eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you both stay there, caught in the stillness of the moment. His gaze searches yours, hesitant but vulnerable, like he’s waiting for something—validation, reassurance, or maybe just the courage to believe in himself.

Before he can say anything, you lean in again, capturing his lips with yours. This kiss is different, deeper, more intentional. You pour everything you want him to know into it—all the words he needs to hear, the things you can’t quite say aloud.

You are something. You are remarkable. You are a wonder, both in the water and outside of it.

Hyunjin responds immediately, his hands sliding to your waist, holding you like you’re the anchor he didn’t realize he needed. You can feel the way his lips tremble slightly against yours, the way his touch tightens just enough to keep you close but not trap you.

Through the kisses, you try to tell him everything you feel. That his achievements aren’t meaningless. That his existence isn’t something that will fade into nothingness. That even in the face of the inevitable, he has already left a mark—on you, on the world, on everyone lucky enough to know him.

His hands move to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as if grounding himself in this moment, in you. His lips press harder against yours, the kiss turning fervent, desperate, as though he’s trying to absorb every ounce of comfort and affirmation you’re giving him.

You can feel the tension in his body begin to melt away, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. The world outside fades, leaving only the two of you in this small, quiet space.

When you finally pull back, it’s not far—just enough to catch your breath. Hyunjin’s eyes remain closed for a moment, his expression unreadable, but when they open, they’re shining with something you can’t quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Hope.

“You’re…” he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn’t finish. Instead, he leans in again, his lips finding yours once more, and this time, it feels like a promise.

The two of you melt into each other, the kisses growing slower but no less intense. You lose track of time, caught in the warmth and closeness, as if the weight of the world has lifted, if only for a little while. For this moment, at least, you’re both enough—just as you are.

-

01:52 a.m.

Hyunjin's forehead still resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. His fingers trail softly down your arms, and his gaze locks onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. There’s no hesitation now, no doubt in the way he looks at you, like he’s trying to memorize every detail, every curve, every moment.

Without a word, he cups your face, his touch both gentle and steady, as if grounding himself in you. His thumbs trace slow circles over your cheeks, and you feel your breath hitch as his lips find yours again, softer this time, yet filled with a quiet yearning.

The world around you feels muted, distant, as he leads you toward the bed. The dim light casts soft shadows, and the room seems to shrink until it holds only the two of you.

Eventually, the room falls into a soft silence, broken only by the sound of your breathing. Hyunjin’s arm wraps around you, pulling you into the curve of his body. His hand rests lightly against your waist, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on your skin.

In the stillness, he presses a lingering kiss to the crown of your head. “You’re remarkable too,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with sincerity.

A small smile tugs at your lips, and you nestle closer to him, your fingers brushing against his. For the first time, the weight of the day seems to lift, leaving only this shared moment, this connection, that feels infinite despite the inevitable.

-

02:59 a.m.

The early dawn filters softly through the curtains, casting a bluish glow over the room as you lay next to Hyunjin, your head resting on his arm while his other hand lazily traces small patterns along your back. His warmth surrounds you, and for a moment, the world feels still and quiet.

With a curious smile, you tilt your head to look up at him. “Hyunjin?” you call softly, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

Hyunjin turns his head to the side and softly gazes into your eyes. “Yeah?”

“What would your perfect day look like?”

Hyunjin grins, a playful gleam in his eyes. “This,” he says, gesturing to the two of you tangled together under the covers. “Right here, right now. Best way to be found dead.”

You laugh and gently swat at his chest, shaking your head. “Stop saying things like that,” you scold, though the smile on your face betrays your amusement. “I want a serious answer.”

Hyunjin hums thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward the ceiling as he considers. “Okay,” he finally says. “I’d start the day early, maybe before sunrise. I’d drive to this lake I used to visit when I was younger. It’s peaceful, surrounded by trees, and the water’s always so calm in the morning.” His voice softens as he speaks, a hint of nostalgia coloring his words. “It must be beautiful this time of year.”

You shift slightly, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him. “Is it far?”

“Not too far,” Hyunjin replies, turning his head to meet your gaze. “About two hours by car.”

A spark of determination lights up in your eyes, and you sit up, pulling the blanket with you. “Then let’s go,” you declare, your voice filled with excitement. “Let’s create a perfect day. It’s the last chance we have, so why not make it count?”

Hyunjin looks up at you, his expression softening as his lips curve into a tender smile. For a moment, he says nothing, just gazes at you like you’ve just handed him the world.

“No, let’s just stay here. It's perfect like this,” Hyunjin says with a sly grin.

You gently slap his chest and whine, hoping to put some senses into him.

Slowly, he sits up, leaning closer until his lips brush against yours in a kiss so gentle it feels like a promise. When he pulls back, his face lingers close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “Okay. Let’s do it,” he murmurs, his voice low but steady. “Let’s go.”

-

03:25 a.m.

Hyunjin is scribbling something on a piece of paper when you return, holding two bags of snacks and drinks from the convenience store. The way his brow furrows slightly in concentration catches your attention, and you pause for a moment, noticing he's using your red hairtie to tie his hair into a low ponytail and engrossed on writing something on a piece of paper.

You step closer and knock on the windshield, grinning as his head snaps up, startled. His wide eyes make you laugh, the sound light and teasing as you shake your head. He rolls his eyes in mock annoyance but leans over to push the car door open for you.

“Need help with those?” he asks, already reaching for the bags in your hands.

“Thanks,” you say, handing them over as he places them neatly in the backseat.

“Did you get everything?” he asks, glancing at the bags.

You nod. “Yep, all set.” Then, reaching into your pocket, you pull out something small and hold it up. “Oh, and this,” you add with a smile.

Hyunjin tilts his head, curious. “What’s that?”

“For you,” you say, showing him the little star-shaped pin in your hand. “Your reward for breaking your time record today.”

His expression shifts, his gaze softening as he looks at the pin. A smile spreads slowly across his face, and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything.

Without waiting, you lean in and carefully attach the pin to the lapel of his jacket. “There,” you say, stepping back slightly to admire your work. “Congratulations, Hyunjin.”

He looks down at the pin, his smile widening, and when his gaze lifts to meet yours, there’s a playful glint in his eyes. “You're not going to kiss me?” he asks, his voice teasing yet warm.

You let out a soft laugh and lean in, brushing a quick kiss against his lips. But before you can fully pull away, Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the back of your neck, and he pulls you in for another kiss—deeper, slower.

You giggle against his lips, your laughter muffled between you, and he smiles into the kiss before finally pulling back. The warmth in his gaze lingers, leaving you breathless and smiling.

“Alright,” he says, settling back into his seat and starting the car. “Shall we?”

You buckle your seatbelt, excitement bubbling up as you nod. “Ready when you are.”

Hyunjin glances at you, his own excitement mirrored in his expression. “Alright, here we go,” he says, pulling out of the parking lot, the perfect day waiting just ahead.

-

04:11 a.m.

The hum of the car fills the air as you and Hyunjin drive down the winding road, the sun rising higher with each passing mile. You’re both relaxed, trading stories and laughing as a small mountain of snack wrappers begins to pile up between you. Hyunjin occasionally glances your way, his smile soft but constant, as if the moment itself feels too perfect to break.

Reaching into the bag beside you, you pull out a can of soda and hand it to him. “Here,” you say, passing it over without thinking.

Hyunjin takes it with one hand, his other still loosely gripping the steering wheel. As he shifts his attention to crack the tab open, the can slips from his fingers. The drink spills across the front of his t-shirt in an instant, cold liquid spreading like a stain across the fabric.

“Ah, shit!” Hyunjin exclaims, pulling the car slightly to the side as you grab a handful of tissues.

“Hold still,” you say, leaning over to help dab at the spill.

Hyunjin laughs, the sound tinged with embarrassment as he attempts to help, both of your hands awkwardly brushing against each other. “You’re worse at this than me,” he teases.

“Hey, it’s your fault for spilling in the first place!” you counter, trying to keep your tone light as you both focus on cleaning up the mess.

But then it happens—Hyunjin’s attention strays too long from the road, and neither of you notice the dog suddenly darting into the street.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice sharp with panic as your hand instinctively shoots out to grab his arm.

His eyes snap forward, and his body reacts instantly. The tires screech against the asphalt as he slams on the brakes, the force jerking both of you against your seatbelts. The world feels as though it’s spinning for a second, the weight of the abrupt stop pressing hard against your chest.

The car comes to a halt just inches away from the small, trembling dog, its wide eyes staring at you through the windshield.

Your heart is racing, your breaths shallow and shaky as you sit frozen, staring out at the still figure on the road. Hyunjin grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as he exhales a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and thick with concern.

You nod numbly, your voice catching in your throat as you try to answer. “Y-yeah. Are you?”

He glances at you, his expression softening when he sees your trembling hands. “I’m fine,” he assures you, though his voice is quieter now, more careful.

The two of you sit in silence for a long moment, the sound of your racing hearts almost audible in the stillness. Then, Hyunjin glances at the dog, who scampers away unscathed, disappearing into the brush.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice cracking slightly as he turns to face you fully.

You shake your head quickly, trying to reassure him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” you say, though the adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your words waver.

Hyunjin’s hand hesitates for a moment before it finds yours, his fingers squeezing gently. “We’re okay,” he whispers, almost as if convincing himself.

You nod again, letting out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, we are.”

As the car slowly starts moving again, the tension lingers, but there’s a quiet understanding between you—a shared moment that feels heavier than words, as if both of you silently acknowledge how fragile this perfect day could have been.

-

05:22 a.m.

The car ride is quiet now, the earlier tension still lingering in the air. Neither of you speak for a while, each lost in your thoughts as the road stretches ahead. The sun begins to crest over the horizon, its warm light spilling across the landscape, painting the morning in hues of gold and soft pink.

You reach for the window switch and roll it down, letting the cool morning breeze rush into the car. It sweeps through your hair, refreshing and light, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation calm your nerves.

When you glance over at Hyunjin, he’s already looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back, warmth blooming in your chest despite the chill of the breeze.

“Look at the sky,” you say softly, nodding toward the view. “It’s beautiful.”

Hyunjin tears his gaze from you, his eyes following your gesture. The sky is breathtaking, streaked with the first slivers of sunlight that break through the faint morning mist.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low and reflective. “It is.”

His hand leaves the steering wheel, searching for yours. When he finds it, he laces his fingers with yours and rests them gently on his lap. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent reassurance that everything is okay now.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes on the horizon, the soft glow of the sun reflecting in his gaze. “It’s beautiful,” he repeats, but this time, his voice is heavier, almost wistful, as if he’s savoring the moment in a way he never has before.

You tighten your hold on his hand, the simple gesture conveying what words can’t. Together, you sit in the quiet, watching the morning unfold, the world outside feeling peaceful and endless as the car moves forward.

-

05:40 a.m.

The car comes to a halt, and you step out into the crisp morning air. Hyunjin joins you, stretching his arms over his head with a satisfied sigh. You glance around, the scent of pine and damp earth filling your lungs as you take in the scenery.

After a short walk, the lake comes into view, and you gasp, unable to contain your amazement. The water is perfectly still, a mirror reflecting the sky and the towering trees surrounding it. The faint golden light of the morning casts everything in a dreamy glow. The trees, just beginning to turn with the season, stand like silent sentinels guarding this little piece of paradise.

“Wow,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the soft rustling of leaves.

Hyunjin looks at you, his smile growing at your reaction. He reaches for your hand and takes it, his fingers warm and steady against yours. “Come on,” he says, leading you toward the water’s edge.

The two of you stop just where the land kisses the lake. You peer down at the water, its surface so calm it feels like stepping into a painting.

“It must be freezing,” you say, giving Hyunjin a wary glance.

He narrows his eyes playfully. “That’s what makes it perfect for a morning swim.”

You shake your head firmly, taking a step back. “No way.”

Hyunjin laughs, undeterred. “Trust me. Once you’re in, it’s not that bad.”

You laugh nervously, shaking your head again. “Hyunjin, I still can’t swim, remember?”

His expression softens, and he takes both of your hands in his. “And I told you— No worries, I’ll hold you.” His tone is earnest, his dark eyes unwavering.

Despite your protests, he’s relentless, coaxing you closer to the edge until you’re standing there, shivering slightly in your underwear. You grip his hand tightly, trying one last time to dissuade him.

“Hyunjin, I’m serious—”

Before you can finish, he sweeps you off your feet, his arms locking around your waist. You let out a startled squeal, clinging to him instinctively.

“Hyunjin, don’t you dare—”

But it’s too late. He steps into the water, pulling you with him. The cold shocks your body the second you make contact, and you scream, the sound piercing through the stillness of the lake.

Hyunjin doesn’t stop until the two of you are submerged waist-deep. You’re clinging to him for dear life, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, your legs curling up to avoid the icy water.

“See? It’s not as bad as you think,” he says, his voice light with amusement as he looks down at you.

Your teeth are chattering, and you tighten your hold on him. “You’re right,” you say through gritted teeth. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”

Hyunjin throws his head back and laughs, his warm breath misting in the cool air. The sound is infectious, and soon you’re laughing too, your voices echoing across the serene lake.

He then adjusts your arms around his shoulders and gives you an encouraging look. “Hold on tight,” he says, his voice warm with reassurance. You do as he says, gripping him as he begins to move through the water with ease.

The cold from earlier feels less harsh now, your body gradually adapting to the temperature. As Hyunjin swims farther from the shore, you cling to him, feeling the strength in his movements as he effortlessly cuts through the water.

“Not so bad now, huh?” he teases, glancing over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes but can’t help a small smile. “I’m still debating.”

When he slows down, you notice just how far you’ve come from the shore. The lake stretches around you, a perfect circle of serenity framed by towering trees. Hyunjin turns to face you, still holding you securely as you float together.

“Relax,” he says, his voice softer now. His hands guide you gently, helping you stay afloat. You take a deep breath and allow yourself to loosen your grip, trusting him.

The stillness of the moment washes over you as you look around. The world seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in the calm water under the open sky. The reflection of the trees and clouds ripples gently with every movement.

“Still as bad as you think?” Hyunjin asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

You shrug, pretending to be unimpressed. “It’s... alright, I guess.”

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, his joy infectious as it echoes across the lake. He leans in slightly, his arms finding their way around your waist. Before you can react, he pulls you down with him, both of you plunging beneath the surface.

The cold water shocks you as it rushes over your head, and you instinctively hold your breath. A moment later, you break the surface, gasping for air.

“Hyunjin!” you sputter, wiping water from your face. “What was that for?”

He’s already laughing, his wet hair plastered to his forehead. “You should’ve seen your face!”

You glare at him, about to launch into a scolding, but he interrupts by cupping your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss.

Your protest dies on your lips, muffled by his. You try to hold on to your indignation, muttering complaints against his mouth, but his kiss is too warm, too insistent. Eventually, you give in, melting against him as his laughter hums through the connection.

When you finally pull away, Hyunjin grins at you, water dripping from his face. “Still want to complain?”

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “You’re lucky I can’t swim away from you right now.”

“Exactly,” he says, leaning his forehead against yours. “That’s why I had to bring you out here.”

The water is cold, but in this moment, surrounded by the beauty of the lake and the warmth of Hyunjin’s arms, you’ve never felt more alive.

-

06:21 a.m.

The sun climbs higher into the sky, warming your skin as you sit on the smooth rocks by the shore, your clothes drying slowly in the gentle breeze. Hyunjin’s jacket is draped over your shoulders, a welcome layer against the cool air still lingering from your swim. You glance at him and murmur your thanks, to which he responds with a small, warm smile.

Opening a can of soda, you take a sip, the drink now lukewarm but refreshing nonetheless. You tilt your head toward Hyunjin. “So, what’s next on your perfect day itinerary?”

Hyunjin sets his can down and grins, his eyes lighting up with boyish excitement. “There’s this diner I used to go to. It’s not too far from here. They make the best waffles.”

“Waffles, huh?” you ask, raising a brow, though his enthusiasm already has you smiling.

“They’re amazing,” he insists, his hands gesturing animatedly. “Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, with this maple syrup that’s just—” He sighs in exaggerated bliss, making you laugh.

“Alright, alright,” you say, holding up your hands. “I’m sold. Waffles it is.”

Hyunjin chuckles and shifts closer, his hand reaching up to brush a damp strand of hair from your face. His touch is gentle, his fingers lingering for a moment before he tucks the strand behind your ear. Without a word, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s soft and slow, like the morning sun warming your skin.

When he pulls back, his smile is tender, and it makes your heart ache. “I'm glad I met you.”

“Me too,” you say back while placing your hand on his and hold it tightly.

The sunlight hits right on Hyunjin’s eyes, making them shine as he stares at you. You know you've only known him for barely a day but Hyunjin knows things most people doesn't know about you. He knows your prefers your flowers to be red than blue, he knows your dreams you never say out loud but you secretly wish to come true and that makes you feel significant to him as he is significant to you. You believe that is how Hyunjin going to make a mark on you.

“I’m going to take one more lap around the lake before we go,” he says, his voice quiet yet certain.

You nod, but before he can move, you catch his wrist, pulling him back toward you. This time, it’s you who closes the distance, pressing a kiss to his lips. It lingers, a silent plea that feels like it’s carrying the weight of everything you can’t say aloud. You wish for more time—just one more day, one more perfect morning.

Hyunjin seems to sense it, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he gazes at you, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. He leans in to press a featherlight kiss to your lips before pulling away completely.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a wink, his voice lighter now. “I won’t take too long.”

As you watch him dive back into the water, the sunlight catching on the ripples he leaves behind, you feel a fleeting, impossible sense of forever. For this moment, at least, Hyunjin makes you believe it’s within reach.

-

06:51 a.m.

The warmth of the morning sun wraps around you, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin. The sky is alive with soft hues of gold and blue, a masterpiece unfolding before your eyes. Overhead, a flock of birds glides effortlessly, their formation cutting gracefully through the stillness. For the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to marvel at it all—the simplicity, the beauty, the life you’ve taken for granted.

But the moment fractures.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find Hyunjin slicing through the water, to hear the rhythmic splashes that have become so familiar. Instead, there is only silence. The lake mirrors the sky, undisturbed, serene, and empty.

A flicker of unease takes root in your chest. You scan the shoreline, your gaze darting to every shadow, every ripple. The stillness feels wrong now.

“Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice tentative, breaking the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the cool rocks pressing into your bare feet, your heart beginning to pound against your ribcage. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, but the name hangs in the air unanswered.

The warmth of the morning sun seems to mock you now, its gentle rays brushing against your damp skin as the sky stretches overhead, a canvas of soft gold and endless blue. The flock of birds that once felt like a sign of life now drifts aimlessly, their formation a cruel reminder of how fragile everything truly is.

You glance toward the lake, expecting to find him slicing through the water, his laughter echoing in the stillness. Instead, there is only silence. The lake reflects the sky perfectly, undisturbed, as if it had swallowed him whole and left no trace.

Your chest tightens. “Hyunjin?” you call out, your voice soft at first, hesitant to break the quiet.

No answer.

You step closer to the edge, the rocks digging into your bare feet as your pulse quickens. “Hyunjin,” you try again, louder this time, your voice trembling. But the name dissipates into the air, unanswered.

A flicker of unease blooms into full-blown panic. You scan the water frantically, your eyes darting across every ripple, every shadow. “This isn’t funny!” you yell, your voice rising with desperation. “If you’re hiding, just stop it and come out!”

Still nothing.

Fear grips you like a vice, and before you can stop yourself, you wade into the water. The cold seeps through your skin, biting and relentless, but you don’t care. You splash forward, the ripples spreading around you, as though trying to reach him through sheer force of will.

“Hyunjin!” you scream, your voice cracking under the weight of your fear. “Answer me!”

The water clings to you, dragging you down as if conspiring with your helplessness. You tread forward a little more, but you can’t go far. Your feet leave the ground, and you freeze, paralyzed by the sudden depth. You try to push forward, but your body resists—muscles locking up with the knowledge that you can’t swim.

Frustration and panic mix into a volatile cocktail in your chest. You slap the water with your hands, gasping for breath, tears streaming as you scream his name again.

“I can’t do this! Hyunjin!” you cry out, the words breaking apart into sobs. The lake offers no comfort, its silence an unbearable void. You flail for a moment, trying to search the surface, but every movement feels futile.

You cling to the thought of him, to his smile, his laughter, the warmth he carried with him like a shield against the world. But now, that warmth feels so far away, unreachable in the depths of the water.

“Hyunjin!” you cry again, weaker this time, the weight of your helplessness pressing down on you. You force yourself back toward the shore, stumbling onto the rocks as you collapse to your knees, breathless and shaking. “Please, don't— don't leave me”

The water stills behind you, its surface reflecting the endless morning sky. You look out at it, broken and trembling, your heart refusing to accept what your mind is beginning to believe. It can’t be over. Not like this.

“Hyunjin...”

-

08:01 a.m.

The rocks beneath you feel sharp, unforgiving, but you barely notice. You sit there, knees pulled tight to your chest, your damp clothes clinging to your skin as you watch the rescue team comb through the lake. Every moment stretches painfully, the weight of silence crushing you with each passing second.

Your fingers dig into your arms as if grounding yourself can keep you from unraveling completely. Then, a shout echoes from the water. You see them—a group of rescuers—working together to pull a body from the depths.

Your breath catches in your throat.

They move with careful precision, carrying the body to shore in a black bag. You feel your body trembling uncontrollably as they approach. One of them steps forward, their expression solemn, as they lower the bag in front of you.

"Is this him?" they ask, their voice heavy with the weight of what they know must be unbearable.

You freeze, staring at the zipper of the bag, your entire being screaming to look and yet refusing at the same time. You can’t do it. You can’t see him like that.

But then your eyes catch something—a flash of red against the black. It’s your hair tie, wrapped around his wrist. You had given it to him, smiling at how absurdly adorable he’d looked wearing it. And now, it’s the confirmation you never wanted.

Your breath hitches as tears flood your vision. "It’s him," you whisper, the words breaking apart as they leave your lips.

Slowly, you reach out, your trembling hand finding his through the body bag.

With shaking fingers, you reach at the lapel of his jacket you're wearing and take off the star-shaped pin, the one you had given him just hours ago. It glints faintly in the sunlight, a small reminder of the joy he carried with him. Carefully, you place it in his palm and fold his fingers around it.

"Keep it," you say softly, tears dripping onto the bag. "It’s yours."

It’s cold—his hand is so cold it sends a shiver through you. But you hold it tight, pressing his lifeless hand to your lips. "Wait for me," you murmur, your voice cracking as the tears spill over. "I’ll see you soon, Hyunjin."

You step back as they zip the bag closed, sealing him away from you forever. The sound cuts through the air like a blade, leaving you raw and hollow.

The ambulance arrives, and they load his body inside. You stand there, watching, your hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. As the vehicle pulls away, your fingers brush against something—a folded piece of paper.

Curious and aching, you pull it out and unfold it with trembling hands. It’s his handwriting, messy but unmistakably his. A list of things he wanted to do today.

Swim in the lake.

Watch the sunrise.

Have waffles for breakfast.

Visit the art gallery.

Hot cocoa at the park.

The last line reads, Buy roses for...

Your lips tremble as you remember the promise you’d made to each other—the promise to keep moving forward, no matter who went first. The memory feels like a cruel joke now, but as you stare at his words, something inside you hardens.

You swallow the lump in your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you say to the empty air, "I’m keeping my promise, Hyunjin."

The ambulance disappears down the road, and you stand there, the morning sun casting long shadows around you. Still, you refuse to believe that Hyunjin’s gone. He is not, he just goes to sleep to live a new dream.

-

09:14 a.m.

You sit in the corner booth of the diner, the same one Hyunjin had gushed about just hours ago. The waffles arrive, golden and drenched in syrup, the butter melting into small pools on the plate. You take a bite, the sweetness coating your tongue, but it tastes hollow. Your chest tightens as you remember how Hyunjin’s eyes had sparkled when he described them to you, as though they were a treasure worth crossing the world for.

Now, it feels like swallowing shards of glass.

The drive back to the city is quiet, the hum of the engine filling the void Hyunjin once occupied. His note sits folded on the passenger seat, a reminder of the day you’re piecing together without him. You glance at it at every stoplight, as if his handwriting might come alive and guide you forward.

Your next stop is the art gallery. You find his favorite painting almost instinctively, a swirling masterpiece of color and emotion. Sitting on the bench before it, you let your mind wander. You picture Hyunjin here, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, his head tilted slightly as he studied the strokes.

"Do you see how the colors bleed into each other?" he would say. "It’s chaotic but still… perfect."

The memory slices through you, and you blink away the tears that threaten to spill.

From the gallery, you walk to a nearby café, the warmth of the cup of hot cocoa in your hands doing little to soothe the chill in your heart. You sit on a bench overlooking the river, the city split in two by its calm flow. The world moves on around you—people walking their dogs, children laughing in the distance—but you’re trapped in stillness.

You think of Hyunjin, of how he was alive and laughing mere hours ago. You think of his voice, his touch, the way he could make the ordinary feel extraordinary.

And now he’s gone.

For the first time, anger stirs beneath your grief. It rises like a storm, raw and uncontrollable. You clench the cup tightly, your knuckles whitening. How could death be so cruel? How could it take someone so vibrant and leave you tethered to feelings that have nowhere to go?

"Death takes the person, but not the love," you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling. Death is so unfair.

-

04:02 p.m.

The world has grown quiet around you, the buzz of the city dimmed to a distant hum as you sit alone on a park bench overlooking the river. The sun dips low in the sky, painting the water with hues of gold and amber. You clutch Hyunjin's jacket tighter around your shoulders, the scent of him still lingering faintly, a bittersweet reminder of everything you've lost—and everything you're about to gain.

The list he left behind is tucked into your pocket, crumpled and worn from your grip throughout the day. You pull it out, scanning the list. There’s only one thing left, unfinished: “Buys roses for…”

He hadn’t finished the sentence. You remember startling him as he jotted it down, and now the incomplete thought feels like a cruel echo. But you know what to do.

You find the nearest florist and step inside, the smell of flowers overwhelming you. "Roses," you tell the florist, your voice quiet but firm. "A bouquet of red roses."

They hand you the bouquet, the petals deep and vibrant, reminiscent of Hyunjin’s flushed cheeks and his soft lips. You trace a fingertip over the delicate blooms before asking for a card.

Sitting at a small table in the corner of the shop, you stare at the blank card. The weight of all you want to say crushes you, an endless stream of emotions that can’t possibly fit onto a single piece of paper.

Still, you write:

For what it’s worth, you showed me that there is such a thing as a perfect day. You made a mark on me, Hyunjin.

Your hand shakes as you finish the words. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, willing the tears to stay at bay. When you’re ready, you fold the card and slip it into the bouquet.

You stand at the corner of the street, clutching the bouquet of roses close to your chest as you wait for the light to turn. The city hums around you, alive and indifferent, the world moving on as it always does. But your mind drifts elsewhere, carried away by memories.

This was the place you met Hyunjin for the first time. You can almost see him standing there, smiling like the world belonged to him. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet so vivid it could have been yesterday. You replay the moment in your mind, the way he held himself with an effortless grace, the way his eyes met yours and lingered, as if he'd been waiting for you his entire life.

The light changes, and the crowd around you begins to move. Lost in your thoughts, you follow them, stepping onto the street.

A distant sound reaches your ears—a horn blaring, tires screeching—but it feels far away, as if it belongs to another world. By the time you register the rushing car, it’s too late.

There’s no time to scream, no time to run.

-

06:11 pm

The world comes back to you in fragments: the cool roughness of asphalt beneath your body, the distant murmur of voices, the sharp tang of blood in the air. Your vision swims, but when it clears, the twilight sky is the first thing you see.

It’s beautiful, painted in hues of lavender and gold, with the faintest blush of pink at the edges. The sight feels distant yet oddly comforting, like a gentle reminder of where you are—and where you’re going.

Your body is heavy, the pain a dull throb that seems to ebb and flow, fading as the seconds stretch on. You’re dimly aware of the rose petals scattered around you, spinning lazily in the air with every gust of wind. They look like they’re floating, as if gravity itself has softened its grip.

You close your eyes briefly and feel something shift inside you—a strange sense of clarity. This is it. You know it, feel it in your very bones. This is your ending.

But there’s no fear. Instead, a deep, resounding calm washes over you, carrying with it the promise of reunion. Hyunjin’s face fills your mind, vivid and bright, his laughter echoing in your ears, his touch still lingering on your skin.

You force your eyes open again, taking in the petals that now rest lightly against your arm, the faint scent of roses mingling with the cool evening air. A soft smile tugs at your lips, even as your breaths come slower, shallower.

Death is not an end, you think. It’s a reunion. It’s a promise kept. It’s my happy ending.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear sirens, but they feel like they belong to another world entirely. You’re beyond that now. Your heart slows, the pain dulls, and in its place is an overwhelming sense of peace.

The light in the sky begins to blur, stars flickering faintly above as if welcoming you home. You can almost feel him, his hand in yours, his voice calling your name like a melody you’ve always known.

Tears slip down your cheeks, but they’re not from sorrow. They’re from relief, from the quiet joy of knowing you’ll see him again, touch him again, love him again.

As the world fades, you exhale one last time, your voice barely a whisper in the wind. “I’m coming, Hyunjin.”

And then there’s nothing but light.

-

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[estxkios]

MIDNIGHT

tomkaulitz x skater!reader

summary: you sneak out with your boyfriend at midnight to smoke. (part two with smut??)

requested - no

--------------------------------------------------------

you couldnt fall asleep, youd been sitting upright in bed staring into the wall for what felt like hours. at this point, you want to give up the agonizing game of trying to fall asleep so you look over to your cluttered nightsand and grab your phone off of it. the screen turning on lit up your face in the dark room, all you saw was the time 11:59 pm, until the brightness coming from your phone caused you to squint irritatingly hard, so you flicked on your lamp.

after your eyes adjusted to the light you resumed back to your phone and opened your messages app, not expecting to see anything. except there was something. 4 messages from your boyfriend, tom.

tom : hey, u up? 11:56 pm

tom : can i come over 11:59 pm

tom : are you ignoring me i saw you turn ur light on 12:00 am

tom : fuck it im coming 12:02 am

and right as you read the last message there was a faint tapping on your window, you jolted at the sound, but then connected the dots. it was tom. you gently pulled your curtain to the side, he smiled when you opened the window, his skateboard that was adorned with stickers clutched in his right hand.

"so ignoring my text messages is cool now?" he said, the window screen still unopened. you giggled at his attitude and lifted up the screen so you could hop out. "i was trying to sleep." you huffed as you hit the ground, the leaves crunching under you as your weight hit them. "doesnt look like your sleeping now, schatz." he pulled down you window and the screen as you patted yourself off. "yeah, tom. obviously." you walked over to him and reached in his coat pocket where he usually kept his joints. he lifted his hands above his head jokingly "jeez didnt know sneaking out with you required a search-" you cut him off by wiggling the joint in your hand in front of his face, showing him you were not infact searching his pockets, just borrowing some weed.

"oh." he laughed and took your hand that wasnt holding the joint, "lets get to the park before we start smoking yeah? your parents will smell it"

"oh shit yeah." you shoved the joint in your own pocket and grabbed your skateboard that you kept outside your window for occasions like this. you reached for toms hand and squeezed it as you two walked down your driveway.

when you reached the end of your driveway, you set down your skateboard. setting your left foot lightly on the front of your board. tom mimicked your movements and started to skate ahead of you.

"tom-! wait up!" you whisper-shouted, trying to make sure you didnt notify your parents you were awake.

"catch up loser!" he shouted, going faster than before.

you snorted and started pushing with your right foot, although you were out of breath from the task, you caught up to him in no time

"oh look who caught up!" tom laughed and went even faster than before, he put his right foot back on his board, putting most of his body weight on the left side of his board making a sharp turn to the skate park. you followed close behind.

the only thing that lit up the skate park was one small street light, so you watched as toms blurry figure dipped into the bowl.

you expected him to pop back out on the other side of it, except he didnt. so you shouted, "tom?"

"come down here schätzen!" he called from the bottom of the bowl, his voice echoing off the curved walls of it.

you walked to the edge of the bowl. you couldn't skate down because you would hit tom so you shouted "catch!" before sending your board down to tom, who was sitting down with his legs spread.

"oh- fuck!" he squealed

he quickly grabbed the board before it hit him in the balls. you could not stop laughing. you slid down, shoes scraping the paved walls.

"its not funny." tom said with a stern look.

"oh but it really is!" you giggled and sat next to him at the bottom of the bowl, your legs touching his. you grabbed the joint out of your pocket and put it in your mouth.

tom, knowing the drill, took the lighter out of his pocket and instead of immediately lighting your joint he grabbed your chin

"you're so gorgeous."

you rolled your eyes. but deep inside your stomach was twisting with anticipation, and thanks the darkness that surrounded the two of you he couldnt see your cheeks that were now dusted with a dark pink shade.

he brought the lighter to your joint and carefully lit it, taking one of the many joints out of his pocket and doing the same with his. he took a long draw of his joint and held the smoke in his mouth. his hand reached up to your joint and he took it out of your mouth.

he put two fingers under your chin and got closer to your face. he put his lips near yours but didnt seal the air between you with a kiss, instead, he pulled your mouth open with his thumb and passed the smoke into your mouth.

you breathed in his smoke and inhaled, puffing the rest out of your nose, giggling. you got closer to him and wrapped you arms around his neck. he smiled, touching his forehead to yours, and this time, he did seal the air between you two with a passionate kiss.

[rosszulorzott]

Times Tech Guild members who power the technology behind mobile push alerts and app and website maintenance at the New York Times walked off the job earlier this week in an ongoing unfair labor practice strike. The strike is the first NewsGuild-CWA work stoppage to coincide with a presidential election day in 60 years and the largest strike of tech workers in modern U.S. history.

Despite being notified of a potential Tech Guild ULP strike months in advance, Times management has failed to meaningfully address tech workers’ key concerns, including remote/hybrid work protections, “just cause” job protections, limits on subcontracting, and pay equity/fair pay. Times management has engaged in numerous labor law violations throughout bargaining, including implementing return-to-office mandates without bargaining and attempting to intimidate members through interrogations about their strike intentions, for which the NewsGuild of New York (TNG-CWA Local 31003) has filed unfair labor practices.

“Our union members and bargaining committee have done everything possible to avoid this ULP strike,” said Kathy Zhang, a Senior Analytics Manager at The New York Times and unit chair of the Tech Guild. “They have left us no choice but to demonstrate the power of our labor on the picket line. Nevertheless, we stand ready to bargain and get this contract across the finish line.”

Tech Guild workers are asking readers to honor the digital picket line and not play popular NYT games such as Wordle and Connections, as well as not use the NYT cooking app. You can play strike-friendly versions of Connections, Wordle, and other games here, as well as check out some recipes. Supporters can donate to their strike fund here.

Striking New York Times tech workers have created a “Guild Builds” page dedicated to strike-themed games you can play, including a spin on Wordle, a word search, and the custom Connections I reported on earlier today. As part of its strike announcement on Monday, the New York Times Tech Guild requested that people don’t cross the digital picket line to play the NYT’s daily puzzle games. This collection of five other games offers an alternative if you want to support the striking workers but also do some brain teasers.

[timeisnowrp]

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🩷 general

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— You may start with 3 characters at once but you have to be active on all of them. — After two weeks of being active, you can ask for a 4th and 5th role. — Please don't apply for characters that have a connection together (ex.: if you play Bianca, you can't apply for Naomi or Jade.) — Muse intros have to be posted within 24 hours after being accepted. — We allow sideblogs ofc.

OCs are allowed if they are backstage workers.

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Activity is key to keep this group going. You have to be active with all roles that you have.

— Posting one thing and disappearing doesn't count as activity. — We ask that you reply to already posted starters before posting your own. — After being accepted, you have to start posting within 24 hours. — Activity levels will be monitored randomly. — We understand that real life happens, however, if you go days without any activity, we'll notify you. If you don't come online within 24 hours, your role will be reopened. — We allow hiatuses, just sends a dm to an admin.

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— If you're still struggling with something, you can message admins on their roleplay accounts - @fearlessnikkix for admin Nikki and @prodigyz for admin Rox.

🩷 Have fun.

Because we're all here to just enjoy ourselves.

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[bishoujopurpleorchid]

The Victim's Game 誰是被害者 Season 2 Part 2: EP 5-8

Part 2: Overview in my humble perspective:

Fan Yi-ren and detectives time travels back to 2008 and sees the teenagers on a bus numbered 716 and one of the wheels is stuck in a muddy pothole. The teenagers collectively push the bus out of the muddy pothole. Fan Yi-ren and detectives travel further back in time to see the teenagers stealing the bus in the middle of the night. They see the teenagers having fun together and time travel to the future with the teenagers. They time travel together back to the bus being stuck and finally get the bus unstuck. 

Back in the present, Fan Yi-ren arrives at the crime scene in which he and the police force sees a dead Wu Chun-lu. Fan Yi-ren thinks back about what transpired the night before. Dr. Hsueh examines the cause of the death and determines that the deceased Wu Chun-lu died from asphyxiation and his mouth was sewn shut. The police found one of the rings that was seen in the picture that was sent to Fan Yi-ren via the LINE app. The other police were wondering where the other ring was at. Fan Yi-ren said that Guo Hsin-bai had the other ring. 

At the Seven Leaves Charity Foundation, Hai-yin notifies that the police have called in regards to the death of Wu Chun-lu and that the police wants Lin Ming-cheng to go to the police precinct for questioning.  Hai-yin asks the CEO about the expenses for the fundraising dinner and notices that an account is anonymous on the invoice. This concerns Hai-yin about the CEO’s attitude in regards to how he refuses to be transparent and truthful which raises Hai-yin’s suspicion about him being the suspect. The CEO is seen holding a ring. 

Back at the laboratory, the prosecutor finds evidence that is connected with Hsiao Min-chun’s case. The prosecutor tells a forensic scientist to look up the serial number in the database and he doesn’t find the serial number on the evidence. (The prosecutor is temporarily possessed again and a deity puts a talisman on him). The forensic scientist asks the prosecutor where he got this unlisted evidence from, instead of telling him, he tells him to report back to him when he figures out what is in the evidence.  

Another day at work, Hsiao-meng is wondering why she is the one that is left behind and is still alive. However, this job has changed her perspective and she feels that it is good that she can do something for the deceased to make sure they are at peace. The boss thanks Hsiao-meng for stepping up during their last clean up. The mother was very afraid of entering her daughter’s room because the room reminded her of how her daughter left the world.  

At the police precinct, the medical examiner inquires about the other ring. The section chief police said that the other ring was not found in the crime scene nor in the evidence vault. The medical examiner deduces that the killer probably has the ring. The section chief police is very annoyed at what is happening. He scolds Fan Yi-ren about how the evidence for the Hsiao Chia-ying’s case is a hot mess and states that there is Fan Yi-ren’s signature on the document. 

Back when the prosecutor, mister Chang wanted to reinvestigate this case, the section chief police believed in Fan Yi-ren and backed him up because at the time Fan Yi-ren firmly believed there were no flaws in the report. The section chief police is even angrier at the fact that Fan Yi-ren missed that a piece of evidence was removed from the report and has a hard time believing in Fan Yi-ren now. When the investigation went wrong several years ago, it caused a lot of pain to the victim’s mother. An anxious Fan Yi-ren breathes heavily. The future self of Fan Yi-ren appears and says that he never finished the report. The reason why he didn’t finish the report was because Hsiao-meng was hurt and he didn’t know what to do (Hsiao-meng was going through the allegations against her during the final wish criminal investigation). 

Fan Yi-ren and detectives from the future time travel back to the scene when the documents are about to be forged for Hsiao Chia-ying’s case (Two evil spirits appear and cosplay as Fan Yi-ren and his late mentor - the real ones turned invisible and teleported away). 

Back to the present, Dr. Hsueh's behavior slightly changes and a talisman is put on her forehead. The section chief police wonders what is going on with the late Lin Jin-rei and wonders who the real killer is. 

Hsiao-meng visits the late singer’s mother and talks about the late singer. The mother tells her that the version that she knows of her daughter is different from what the police knows about her. The mother hands over the late singer’s diary. Hsiao-meng sincerely thanks the late singer’s mother and shares that she listened to her daughter’s songs in the darkest moments of her life. Without her song, she would have left the world by now. She shares that she once read in an interview that the late singer thanked her strict mom for teaching her piano, otherwise these songs wouldn’t have been written in the first place. The mother tears up and goes to the piano and plays the piano accompaniment while listening to her daughter’s hit song, “To our faraway place”. Hsiao-meng looks at the late singer’s diary and circles location on a map which also coincides with the lyrics in the song ““To our faraway place”. 

In the investigative room at the police precinct, the CEO tells the section chief police that someone mailed the other ring to him in an attempt to frame him as the killer. The section chief police does not believe him. The CEO repeats again that the killer murdered Wu Chun-lu in the foundation’s storage room and mailed the ring as an attempt to frame him for murder. Then the section chief inquires about why the CEO hid the USB drive. He replies that he wants to protect Wu Chun-lu. With incredulity, he states that the CEO is protecting Wu Chun-lu despite Wu Chun-lu accusing him of murder and openly fires at him with a gun. The CEO simply says that it was all a misunderstanding. In the CCTV footage, Wu Chun-lu states that Guo Hsin-bai died because she wanted to reveal the truth. The section chief police takes out the collection of photos of the recent victims that died after the reopening of the investigation. The CEO says that it was all a misunderstanding. Then the section chief police takes out pictures from Hsiao Chia-ying’s case. The section chief police states that these two teenagers were not on a romantic getaway. There were 7 teenagers in the group. He asks the CEO point blank if he is the person that held the camera and took the picture for the group shot. Just then, Fan Yi-ren barges into the room and asks him about the two decomposed bodies in the remote mountainous area and if there was another person there. The CEO has a flashback to the memory of them having fun at the beach. He reveals that they are all friends and they ran away from their parents to live the lives they wanted. He reminisced that it was the best moment in his life. He tears up and confesses that he stole the bus and states that if that group trip has something to do with the murder, he is willing to cooperate. His lawyer arrives and states that he is only helping out with the investigation and the police cannot detain him since he has an alibi when the murder of Wu Chun-lu occurred. The section chief police asks the CEO why he left the group trip first and he replies that he got injured. Fan Yi-ren looks at the shoes of the CEO and notices the knot tie is singular. 

Hai Yin receives a message about a columbarium receipt in regards to the funeral. The investigative journalist looks further into the background of the Seven Leaves Charity Foundation and discovers that the foundation surprisingly has a clean record. On the other hand, the medical examiner and Fan Yi-ren look at past articles about the Hsiao Chia-ying case online. Fan Yi-ren still insists that the other person is not his late mentor. The medical examiner doesn’t care about how Fan Yi-ren perceives his late mentor, all she wants to figure out is the truth. The medical examiner figures out the license plate number of the stolen bus 716. 

Hsiao-meng seeks out Fan Yi-ren due to the text message that Hai-yin sent her while she was looking at the map. Hsiao-meng asks her father’s wellbeing and again, he answers that he is fine. (Clearly he is not fine) She looks away from him and sees the pushpin board full of photos of the ongoing cold case. Hsiao-meng asks his father if he has listened to Yuan Chi-ling’s song “To our faraway place” and he curtly replies no. She plays the song on her smartphone. She connects the lyrics to the drawings on the pushpin board. A frustrated and very concerned Fan Yi-ren stops the song and doesn’t want his daughter to get involved in this dangerous cold case. She claps back and says then don’t get involved in my business either and then she walks away. 

Determined to figure out the truth, Hsiao-meng retraces the route the teenagers took several years ago. She ends up at the place where the bus gets stuck in the mud. A dizzy Hsiao-meng takes out her smart phone before she faints. 

The prosecutor runs into the forensic scientist in the hallway and asks him about the results and the forensic scientist looks down. (The prosecutor gets temporarily possessed again and a talisman is placed on his forehead, 眼笙變了, 聲音也變了) The forensic scientist hands over the report. The forensic scientist insists that Fan Yi-ren is innocent and that he wants to redo the test again. However, the prosecutor gets angry (he gets possessed again 眼笙變了, 聲音也變了) and tells the forensic scientist to not let anyone else know about this report. The forensic scientist quickly runs to the section chief police and tells him that the prosecutor discovered the DNA evidence against Fan Yi-ren which is part of the Hsiao Min-chun case. In addition, the forensic scientist says the prosecutor believes that Fan Yi-ren killed Hsiao Min-chun to protect late Lin Jin-rei and the prosecutor is about to press charges. The section chief police asks about where the DNA evidence is and the forensic scientist says the prosecutor has it. 

Fan Yi-ren and Dr. Hsueh arrives at the hospital and finds sickly Hsiao-meng on the hospital bed with a sprained ankle. Fan Yi-ren asks Dr. Hsueh how he understands her daughter. She replies, who says that she understands her daughter. Meanwhile, the CEO of the foundation is burning paper, throws a key in the fire pit and an old photo of Hsiao Chia-ying and himself. He has a flashback to the moment before the picture is taken. Hai-yin notices him holding a polaroid photo and when the CEO leaves, she goes into the room and looks at what was burned.

The detectives from the future time travel back to the flashback moment that the CEO just has regarding the old photo. The detectives from the future discover that the teenage Lin Ming-Cheng and Hsiao Chia-ying have a relationship that is more than friends, is closer and more intimate than family members and they commemorated a moment by taking a picture with a polaroid camera. (In the polaroid picture there is an evil spirit) 

At the hospital, Hsiao-meng wakes up and tries to get out of bed. Fan Yi-ren tries to stop her since she has a fever and is injured. He questions where she has been and how she got herself in this predicament. She says that she went to the mountains and she found clues in the lyrics and the drawings by Liu Shu-yen, which coincides with the places on the map. Fan Yi-ren is very anxious and stressed out by the fact that his daughter is getting herself involved in this dangerous case. (Almost all the people in the group photo are dead at this point). Her father’s concern isn’t warmly welcomed by her. She takes out the IV from her wrist and puts on her tattered shoe. She feels obligated to help the deceased since she found new clues and she wants to help the family members that are left behind and wants to get to know the deceased better. She tells her father that her shoes are tattered because of her cleaning job at crime scenes. The past few years she has been living in pain and doesn’t know why she is still alive. Helping out in this case and the deceased gives her a sense of purpose and then Hsiao-meng walks away. Hsiao-meng is sitting on a chair and the medical examiner approaches her to help her get the other shoe on her foot. Hsiao-meng confides in Dr. Hsueh that she doesn’t know how to communicate with her father and knows that he cares for her. Dr. Hsueh says that Fan Yi-ren also doesn’t know how to communicate with her despite caring about her. (father - daughter miscommunication)

Hsiao-meng sends a series of photos of where she went to her father via the LINE app. She tells him the lyrics describe the place she went to. Fan Yi-ren looks at the drawings in the diary again and the pictures on the pushpin board again. He receives a phone call regarding the bus numbered 716 and the license plate. Both Fan Yi-ren and Dr. Hsueh talk to Liu Shu-yen’s father in regards to the stolen bus. They inform the father that they are investigating who killed his daughter. He reveals that one time in high school, his daughter ran away from home and later on a police officer brought her home. Dr. Hsueh asks if the police officer has said anything. The father says that his daughter and her runaway friends stole a bus together. The father takes them to see the stolen bus. The father told the police that he didn’t want the police to put a record on his daughter. He thinks the police officer took pity on him and he decides to let his daughter off the hook and get rid of the bus. The father initially was going to get rid of the bus but his daughter begs to keep the bus without explaining why. Dr. Hsueh asks the father if he is still able to recognize the police officer from several years ago. Dr. Hsueh shows a picture on her smartphone and asks the father if this is the police officer. The picture on the phone shows an illusionary picture of the late mentor (an evil spirit is cosplaying as him). The father believes that the police officer is the one in the picture. They get onto the bus and inspect the contents inside the bus. (Dr. Hsueh uses her supernatural power as she touches the interior of the bus) There are drawings on the ceiling of the bus and the side of the bus. Fan Yi-ren realizes that the crime took place in the bus because he notices a bullet hole. 

Several years ago, on a stormy thunderous night the 7 teenagers on the stolen bus numbered 716 were waiting for the weather to clear up. A fearful Guo Hsin-bai is scared and wants to leave to avoid getting into trouble. Liu Shu-yen also wants to go home after having enough fun. Hsiao Chia-ying is shocked and mistakenly thinks that the rest of her friends are on the same page after making a promise that they would stay together no matter what happened. Lin Ming-cheng also thought that they agreed to leave their unloving family members. Liu Shu-yen says that she wanted to scare her dad but she feels that her father does love her. Her father just has a hard time coping with her mom’s sudden death. Yuan Chi-ling also feels the same and thinks her mother is very worried at the moment. Hsiao Chia-ying asks the rest of them, Wu Chun-lu says he doesn’t want to get arrested and wants to take Hsin-bai home because she’s scared. Lin Ming-Cheng bursts out all of sudden and says no one can leave. The other teenagers challenge Lin Ming-Cheng and a gun drops to the floor. Lin Ming-cheng picks up the gun. The other teenagers find out that the reason Lin Ming-Cheng brought a gun is to protect them. Hsiao Chia-ying wants him to put down the gun, however Lin Ming-Cheng repeats that he just wants to protect everyone with shaking hands. Chen Yang-yu rushes to try to snatch the gun out of his hands. However this situation gets out of hand and Chen Yang-yu gets shot in the process. Everyone is shocked and then later another gunshot is fired. 

Back in the present, after Dr. Hsueh uses her supernatural power, she finds out that the floors were cleaned with bleach which explains the certain stain marks on the floor. Fan Yi-ren is swiping for samples of evidence and he notices a drawing of a daylily. He realizes the bus was the teenager’s home for a while and thinks there must be a hidden message or clue. Dr. Hsueh soon faints and is unconscious. 

One of the officers is following Lin Ming-Cheng for a period of time and realizes that he takes the same route everyday. At the criminal investigation unit, one of the staff members turns in paperwork on the prosecutor’s desk. The section chief police waits till that staff member leaves and looks over the documents on the desk. He is trying to prevent Fan Yi-ren from getting framed for something he did not do. 

After Hsiao-meng receives a parcel of new shoes she calls her father and wants to meet to have a meal. She finds out that he is at the hospital because Dr. Hsueh is unwell. Dr. Hsueh wakes up and wants to figure out if Hsiao Chia-ying truly killed someone. Fan Yi-ren discourages her from leaving. Fan Yi-ren feels frustrated and recounts the new evidence that they found on the bus. Chen Yang-yu died on the bus and Hsiao Chia-ying’s body was moved. He states again who has died recently and that they still have not found hard evidence that Lin Jing-rei was at the scene. Dr. Hsueh starts questioning him if he truly wants to find out the truth or just wants to prove that Lin Jing-rei is not the killer. Fan Yi-ren leaves the hospital and gets into the car.

Hsiao-meng drops by the hospital to visit Dr. Hsueh. Dr. Hsueh is surprised to see her by the doorway. Hsiao-meng helps her pull up the blinds and then she hands over a matcha mille crepe cake for Dr. Hsueh to eat. Fan Yi-ren meets up with Hai-yin and she hands over the burnt evidence: photo and key that Lin Ming-cheng threw in the fire previously. The prosecutor goes back into his office and tries to find the document that has the DNA analysis of Fan Yi-ren. He notices that the document disappeared. He looks at the CCTV footage and figures out who took it. He calls one of the staff members to send another copy of the document. 

It is dark outside, the section chief police is at a park and dumps out the DNA evidence from the tube while holding an envelope. Car light shines towards the section chief police and a car pulls up and then the car door opens. The section chief police accuse the person as the killer and what kind of connection does the person have to do with Hsiao Min-chun. This person brings out a gun and pulls the trigger on him. 

At the hospital in the surgical unit, the section chief police is undergoing an emergency surgery. The prosecutor is standing in the waiting area while looking out the window. Fan Yi-ren runs to the waiting room and sees another police officer there already. The prosecutor thinks the murderer is targeting them, he asks Fan Yi-ren what did he and the section chief police discover that would attract the attention of the murderer. The prosecutor informs him that the section chief police (Chao Cheng-kuan) is stable and resting now. Fan Yi-ren shares that he found the primary crime scene of when Chen Yang-yu died. Chen Yang-yu got shot in the abdomen and died on bus 716. His dead body and Hsiao Chia-ying’s body were intentionally put in the forestry mountainous area afterwards.  The prosecutor prematurely accuses Lin Jing-rei again and Fan Yi-ren is ticked off and says there’s still no hard evidence that Lin Jing-rei was there at the crime scene. Fan Yi-ren is about to say something but trails off. At this moment, the prosecutor presses him to go on but the look in his eyes and voice changes again for a very brief moment (眼笙變了, 聲音也變了). A talisman is put on his forehead. Avoiding eye contact, Fan Yi-ren continues his train of thought, he thinks that Wu Chun-lu said that everything is connected to Lin Ming-cheng. Fan Yi-ren suspects that Wu Chun-lu was also on the bus at that time. After hearing this, the prosecutor theorizes that Lin Jing-rei did all this to protect Lin Ming-cheng and Lin Ming-cheng wanted to hide the truth so he killed everyone that was involved. Fan Yi-ren takes out a small ziplock bag with the key and mentions that if we find out the purpose of this key was used for, we may be able to find the answer. He hands over the evidence to the prosecutor. They both teleport back to the police precinct. One of the team members figured out information regarding the key and sent the information to the prosecutor. It turns out the key is connected to the columbarium service (previously, the investigative journalist was looking into the invoice of the foundation and also noticed that money was transferred to the columbarium service). 

The prosecutor and Fan Yi-ren both teleport to the columbarium service and find the PR director of the Seven Leaves Charity Foundation also there. The prosecutor accuses her of trying to help her boss by getting rid of the evidence. Fan Yi-ren interjects, Hai-yin is the one that gave him the key. Then the prosecutor softens up a bit and asks her if she is here to help with the investigation. She mentions that Chen Yang-yu’s cremation locker is owned by Seven Leaves Charity Foundation and she has the documents. Additionally, she sassily says that if the prosecutors do not want her to be here, then the prosecutor can come back with a search warrant. The prosecutor is visibly annoyed and Fan Yi-ren interjects and advocates that they can trust her.  They go in and the prosecutor opens up the locker but there weren't any extra things inside the locker. Hai-yin suggests that they look at the record of who came and visited. The future self of Fan Yi-ren takes out gloves from his backpack and says that there are traces of something that has been stored in the back. He also shares that in the case file report, tokens (rings, badge pin, audio recorder) found on the dead victims all show traces of soil containing sulfuric compounds. He brings out a cotton swab to see if he can get a sample of the sulfuric soil and if there is evidence of the soil in the locker, then the murderer has been inside the columbarium. A police officer brings out the record of people that have visited and opened up the locker of Chen Yang-yu. The list shows that the last person that accessed the locker was Lin Jing-rei on April 3, 2018. Hai-yin is thinking aloud and says Lin Jin-rei is the person that took away the tokens. Fan Yi-ren says it’s impossible since Lin Jin-rei passed away before the first victim, Hsiao Min-Chun was killed (the latest investigation that coincides with the case from 2008). Then he mentions that the first time Hsiao Min-Chun sent a picture of the tokens to him was 5 years ago (At this moment the current year is 2023). Then Fan Yi-ren looks at the list and sees that Hsiao-Min Chun accessed the locker on March 28, 2018. The prosecutor looks at the list again and ponders for a bit. He realizes that 5 years ago was also when Guo Hsin-bai passed away. After this revelation, Fan Yi-ren is stumped and is pondering about the possibilities of what could have happened, then he felt like he was hallucinating (As he was pondering, an evil spirit that is cosplaying as his late mentor appears briefly behind Hai-yin and then a deity puts a talisman on the evil spirit’s forehead). Hai-yin looks very concerned, she touches his shoulder. Fan Yi-ren and Hai-yin go back into the car and Fan Yi-ren asks her to bring him to see Lin Ming-Cheng. 

Both of them find Lin Ming-Cheng and start confronting him in regards to the case that they are currently working on and the deaths from the previous years. Fan Yi-ren asks if his father did all of these things because of him. Fan Yi-ren states in order to get rid of evidence, Lin Ming-cheng killed Guo Hsin-bai, but Hsiao Min-chun got the tokens before he did and then 5 years later his father died and that is the reason Lin Ming-cheng killed Hsiao Min-chun. Fan Yi-ren accuses Lin Ming-cheng that he tried to frame him as the scapegoat and killed the rest of the people that were involved in the case from 2008. Lin Ming-cheng remains silent and this pisses off Fan Yi-ren. He grabs Lin Ming-cheng’s shirt and says why didn’t you spare your own father. Hai-yin says if you want to clear your own father’s reputation then say everything that you know. The future self of Fan Yi-ren mentions that he found the bus and that is the primary crime scene. Lin Ming-cheng finally admits the truth and says yes. He mentions that he was the one that shot Chen Yang-yu, then his father shows up and becomes the only hope in that situation (an evil spirit was cosplaying as his father). His father told the teenagers that those two got into a fight and then Hsiao Chia-ying committed suicide. Together they bring the bodies to the forestry mountainous area and stage the whole scene just like how the initial report states in the case file. (There are evil spirits lurking around in the background during this event) He tells them to get rid of the evidence that connects them to this event so the police cannot find the evidence. They put the tokens in a trash bag and Lin Ming-cheng buries the tokens. Later, Guo Hsin-bai digs up the bag that contains the tokens. Then she takes the tokens and hides them in Chen Yang-yu’s cremation locker. Then she tells Hsiao Min-chun about the tokens. Lin Ming-cheng finds out about this matter and he was forced to tell his father about this matter. Lin Ming-cheng then says that he wasn’t expecting his father to kill Guo Hsin-bai. Fan Yi-ren says that his late mentor would never do something like that and is in complete disbelief and accuses him again for killing those recent victims. Lin Ming-cheng said that they are all his friends, he wouldn’t do anything to harm them. Hai-yin says that the murderer spread around the body parts and tokens around. Hai-yin says that maybe the murderer is trying to mislead us, so something is amiss and they are missing something along the way (sounds similar to what happened in season one). Lin Ming-cheng decides to turn himself in after all these years of keeping this a secret. 

Fan Yi-ren teleports back to the precinct and begs Chen Yao-hui, the forensic scientist to do a reanalysis of Hsio Min-chun’s body. The forensic scientist looks at his computer to look at the database and then he picks up the case file again and it reveals that the body has already been sent to the crematory. It turns out there is the prosecutor’s stamp for approving the cremation. Fan Yi-ren goes to the prosecutor’s office and shows him the document and asks him why he did this when the case hasn’t closed yet. The prosecutor is shocked and denies that he stamped the paper. The prosecutor picks up the phone and calls Hsueh Hsing-ning about when Hsiao Min-chun’s body was taken away. It turns out that the body was taken away today. The prosecutor and Fan Yi-ren arrive at the crematory and discover that the burning process was paused after the prosecutor called the crematory. (The future detectives in the background found that the remains had a sulfur smell)

Hsiao-meng visits the hospital and discovers that Dr. Hsueh was discharged from the hospital. The staff that was cleaning up her room finds a card that was left behind. The staff hands over the card to Hsiao-meng and she turns the card over and it reveals an address and map. 

Back at the crematory, both Fan Yi-ren and the prosecutor appear to have a brief mental breakdown and seem stumped for a moment. Fan Yi-ren recovers and realizes that they can still get a sample from the burnt remains. Fan Yi-ren teleports back to the lab at the police precinct and he decides to do an analysis on Hsiao Min-chun’s sweater. 

Hsiao-meng comes out of the elevator and finds a door that is slightly ajar. She walks into the place and finds that the furniture is covered with plastic. She keeps calling out auntie Hsueh to see if she’s around. She finds a picture of a mother and a young girl. 

Fan Yi-ren calls Dr. Hsueh and the forensic scientist say the analysis is done. Looking at the computer, they are surprised to discover that the data of the evidence doesn’t belong to Hsiao Min-chun. Fan Yi-ren rushes to the prosecutor’s office and tells him that the prosecutor’s stamp was forged. He also mentions that the data on the sweater matches Hsueh Hsin-ning. The prosecutor is looking at Hsueh Hsin-ning’s life insurance plan and that she bought the plan ten years ago and the beneficiary is Hsiao Min-chun. When the section chief police took away documents, he also took away the life insurance plan. The prosecutor thinks that the section chief police got shot as he was investigating Hsueh Hsin-ning. 

Back at the empty apartment, Hsiao-meng opens up the curtains by the window and sees a  chart, series of pictures, sticky notes and news articles. At the prosecutor’s office, after Fan Yi-ren finishes reading the life insurance plan, things start to click together for him. He realizes that the body is not Hsiao Min-chun’s body. The prosecutor realizes that Hsiao Min-chun is still alive. Another police officer finds the address to Hsueh Hsing-ning’s place and together they rush off to that location. Lin Ming-cheng is sitting in a darkly lit candlelight setting waiting for someone. Footsteps draw nears and as Lin Ming-cheng looks up he sees the person he is waiting for and a gun is pointed at his face. The person he is waiting for is Hsueh Hsin-ning. 

The next episode starts off with a video recording of Hsiao Min-chun talking about what her purpose of life was before the death of her daughter and how her daughter is framed for murder. She doesn’t believe her daughter has committed murder, she is convinced that whoever lured her daughter away was the one who was responsible for this tragedy. 

The future detectives time travelled to the past to see Hsiao Chia-ying’s childhood and what the relationship of Hsiao Chia-ying and her mother was like before this tragedy struck. Her mother took her to a place that has a field of daylilies. 

During the video recording of Hsiao Min-chun talking about how the 2008 investigation wasn’t done properly, an evil spirit that is cosplaying as Hsiao Min-chun appears and talks about revenge. 

The police infiltrate Dr. Hsueh’s place to collect evidence around the place and take pictures down from the window (the year is 2023). The prosecutor is convinced that Dr. Hsueh is the killer, how she is behind this whole thing and how she has been among them this whole time misleading everyone. Everything starts to connect together for Fan Yi-ren as he retrospects back on Dr. Hsueh’s attitude. Fan Yi-ren is still at a loss as to why he was framed. The police also find Hsiao-meng’s fingerprints at this place. 

In an abandoned place, Lin Ming-cheng is paralyzed on a bed while a video camera is recording him. He confesses that his father was protecting him and because of this, an innocent girl was framed for murder. He confesses that if he could go back in time, he wished that he was the one that died instead. Dr. Hsueh is sitting beside the bed while he continues his confession and apologizes. The future self of the real Dr. Hsueh turns invisibility mode on and teleports the real Lin Min-cheng away. An evil spirit that is cosplaying as Dr. Hsueh starts to kill him in a brutal gruesome way.

Fan Yi-ren seeks his daughter out and asks her why she was at Dr. Hsueh’s place. He informs her that Dr. Hsueh is suspected as the killer. He is very concerned about his daughter’s safety and Hsiao-meng ignores him and says that she has not harmed her. She shows him a picture of herself that was on the window to her father. The future Fan Yi-ren thinks his daughter is too thin and needs to eat regular meals. He wants her to come home with him because it is too dangerous at the moment. 

In the city, one of the buildings displays news about the recent serial murders. The news reporter talks about how there is video footage of victims being tortured and their confession and proceeds to show the video clips of victims before dying. 

One of the police officers is digging deep into the household registries and addresses of Hsiao Min-chun and Hsueh Hsin-ning. The only way to locate the medical examiner is by tracing her IP address. The prosecutor also insists on finding Lin Ming-cheng. Unbeknownst to the detectives, time is running out for Lin Ming-Cheng. 

Hai-yin is sitting in front of a laptop and sees a video of her boss being stabbed in the chest. She regrets leaving him alone by himself. Hai-yin notices Fan Yi-ren beside her and shares that Lin Ming-Cheng transferred his shares of the Foundation to her to put her in charge before he was abducted. She theorizes that he has been waiting for the killer to get to him for a while. Hsiao-meng appears and tells them to come look at something and that she was right about the diary last time and so she is capable of helping out. She also wants to find out the reason why auntie Hsueh did all those things that her father claims. Hsiao-meng shows them a picture on her laptop. She took a picture of the photo that shows Hsiao Min-chun and her daughter as a child. Hai-yin is wondering what the connection between Hsiao Min-chun and Hsueh Hsin-ning is. At the moment, all they know is that the dead body is not Hsiao Min-chun. This means that there is a possibility that Hsiao Min-chun is still alive. Hai-yin is also wondering if there is a way to find Lin Ming-cheng. Hsiao-meng’s analysis of the background in the video is the same place as the photo of Hsiao Min-chun and her daughter. Hsiao-meng is wondering if it’s Hsiao Chia-ying’s childhood home. Hai-yin had a conversation with officer Liao on the phone about the addresses being wrong and so she is wondering how to find the location of the place where Lin Ming-cheng is held hostage. Their future selves appear and all said at the same time the location is at Sanlung City. They looked at Hsiao Min-chun’s document and saw that her last job was at a hospital in Sanlung City. Hai-yin suggests visiting the hospital and seeing if they can find her personal information. 

While recharging the car, in the back seat, Hsiao-meng notices that there’s two different handwriting in the diary and thinks someone else also wrote in it. She points out the drawings, especially the drawing of the daylily. Fan Yi-ren said that he also noticed the daylily drawing on bus 716. She notices that one of the people wrote about the place of rebirth multiple times in the diary. She reads aloud a sentence in the diary. Hai-yin realizes it’s the Greek myth of Orpheus. Hsiao-meng also mentions that Yuan Chi-ling’s lyrics also depict something similar about a place of rebirth. They play the song in the car and Hsiao-meng circles the locations on the map. Fan Yi-ren realizes that these places are real and they are another step closer in finding out the truth. 

The future detectives time travel back to the past again and observe a conversation between Hsiao Chia-ying and Lin Ming-cheng. A teenage Lin Ming-cheng shares that he feels like his father doesn’t care about him. Somehow Hsiao Chia-ying feels envious about that, she shares that in reality, her mother has always treated her very well and wonders if that is her mother’s way of making sure she doesn’t leave her side. Lin Ming-cheng says that they should try out switching parents. Hsiao Chia-ying says that he wouldn’t be able to get used to it because no matter what you do, her mother would always wonder if you love her enough. Lin Ming-cheng finds that scary. He says that one day if her mother gave him a lot of pressure and wouldn’t let him breathe, Hsiao Chia-ying interjects by saying that she would definitely save him. He also says that he wouldn’t leave her behind too. 

At the abandoned house, Lin Ming-cheng is paralyzed on the bed and questioning her who she is, how she is related to Hsiao Chia-ying and why she killed his friends. 

Fast forward, Fan Yi-ren, Hsiao-meng and Hai-yin arrive at the hospital and go into a room to check records. As Fan Yi-ren is flipping through the book of personnel records, he discovers that Hseuh Hsin-ning also worked at the hospital. They are wondering if they both met here at the hospital. Hsiao-meng is flipping through another book of personnel records and finds Hsiao Min-chun’s personal information and the address matches for Sanlung city. Hai-yin saw that the reason she left the job in 2018 was due to death from illness (病故). In the book of personnel records, there is a photo of Hsiao Min-chun and Hsueh Hsin-ning. Hsiao-meng wonders if that woman is really Hsiao Min-chun. She notices in the picture that there’s a scar on Hsiao Min-chun that is identical to the scar on auntie Hsueh when she visited her at the hospital. Hsiao-meng’s conclusion is that the auntie Hsueh she knows is actually Hsiao Min-chun. 

The next scene cuts to future detectives time traveling back to the past and discovers that Hsiao Min-chun had cosmetic surgery done to her face. (The Hsiao Min-chun lying on the operating bed is an anime figure toy) After the operation, she begins her solo investigation on what happened to her daughter several years ago and who was involved in the investigation. 

Back at the abandoned place, Lin Ming-cheng (anime figure) is experiencing a slow death while his blood is draining away in a glass container. The killer shares that the real Hsueh Hsin-ning gave up on her cancer treatment and prior to her death, she let Hsiao Min-chun use her identity after she died. The killer also confesses all the evil deeds the killer did: carving out the larynx, gouging out the eyes, cutting the tongue off and none of them admitted that they lured away Hsiao Chia-ying. The killer continues to drain out all the blood from the body of Lin Ming-cheng; he apologizes and confesses that he is the one that undermined Hsiao Chia-ying (the anime figure gets possessed by an evil spirit).

The detectives from the future time travels back to the moment on the bus when Chen Yang-yu gets shot in the abdomen area. The two of the girls in the back were in shock and didn’t want to be a part of this incident. Wu Chun-lu wants to take Chen yang-yu to the hospital immediately however, Hsiao Chia-ying says if they do that then Lin Ming-cheng would be in trouble. Wu Chun-lu and Hsiao Chia-ying argue a bit about taking Chen Yang-yu to the hospital. Hsiao Chia-ying firmly says that Chen Yang-yu is already dead. Wu Chun-lu decides to sit in the driver seat to turn on the ignition. (The detectives from the future teleport them away to safety, magical anime figures appear) Hsiao Chia-ying picks up the gun and the rest of them decide to stop her from pulling the trigger by fighting for the gun. Amidst the struggle, Hsiao Chia-ying’s grip loosens up and they find her unconscious. 

Hai-yin theorizes the medical examiner’s plan to figure out who is responsible for the error on the case file report. She is recounting the train of events, starting by how the medical examiner fakes her own death, attempts to frame Fan Yi-ren and the late mentor, finding a way to insert herself in the investigation while steering people’s attention from the real Hsiao Min-chun. 

Fan Yi-ren gets the key from Hai-yin and decides to drive to the location of where the medical examiner is at. Hsiao-meng shares that autie Hsueh mentioned that she doesn’t want to forget what it’s like to be human. If she was truly behind all of this then she must be feeling terrible. Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng get to the parking lot too late and see FanYi-ren driving away. 

The prosecutor takes other police officers to rush off to the location. The police force are armed and go inside the abandoned building. One of them finds a locked box and finds a laptop and they realize they got played. Hai-yin calls Officer Liao and asks if he has seen Lin Ming-cheng or Fan Yi-ren. Officer Liao says that they are at Hsueh Hsin-ning’s old place and it’s empty. Hai-yin tells him that Hsueh Hsin-ning and Hsiao Min-chun are the same person. Officer Liao is shocked and repeats this statement and it catches the prosecutor’s attention. 

Fan Yi-ren arrives at the abandoned building at Sanlung city. He finds a lifeless Lin Ming-cheng on the bed. Fan Yi-ren puts his fingers on Lin Ming-cheng’s neck to check his pulse. Then Fan Yi-ren calls Hai-yin to tell her that he found Lin Ming-cheng. Soon after Fan Yi-ren hears a gun cocking behind his head. He turns his head and sees the medical examiner (This is an evil spirit cosplaying as the medical examiner). A black backpack is left on the ground. 

Later, the prosecutor finds a syringe along with a black backpack and the rest of the police force arrives on the scene. One of the police starts putting various number markers on the bed for taking pictures of evidence. The window is broken and down below outside the building, the prosecutor is looking up at the room with the broken window. 

Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng arrive on the scene but the prosecutor blocks off their attempt to get into the building. The prosecutor is wondering why Fan Yi-ren came alone. Hai-yin says that Fan Yi-ren wanted to save Lin Ming-cheng and asks if Dr. Hsueh took Fan Yi-ren away. The prosecutor says he is not sure but most likely she did. Hsiao-meng also desperately wants to know the answer because she realizes the gravity of the situation, without her father, she is alone. One of the K-9 dogs finds something in the bushes. The police block off Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng’s attempt to cross the yellow tape and officer Liao tells them to go home first. Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng get into the car and drive away. 

Fan Yi-ren (anime figure) wakes up confused and finds himself tied up on a chair and in front of him is Lin Jing-rei. (This is an evil spirit cosplaying as Lin Jing-rei). He tells this imposter that he deceived him and because of protecting Lin Ming-chen he killed people. Fan Yi-ren shouts that he has been framed. The imposter questions him why he did not dig deeper regarding the case from 2008 and Fan Yi-ren says it’s because he was told there wasn’t anything wrong with the report and trusted him. The imposter apologizes to Fan Yi-ren. 

Fan Yi-ren (anime figure) wakes up and is tied to a chair again but in another location with a dark setting. There is a cut on Fan Yi-ren’s temple and the medical examiner (This is an evil spirit cosplaying as the medical examiner) has a video camera set up ready for recording. The medical examiner holds up a scalpel. 

Back to the detectives from the future, they time traveled back to the moment when Hsiao Chia-ying was on her cell phone speaking to her mother. Her mother asks her why isn’t coming back home and asks her if their home has no meaning at all. Hsiao Chiao-ying has a flashback memory of her bringing cake home and sees her mother looking at a pile of mail that pertains to her father. Her mother is still grieving in her own way. She asks her mother if she wants to eat the cake she brought home. Her mother tells her to eat the cake by herself. Later, Hsiao Chia-ying messages her friend, Liu Shu-yen online and she tells her friend that she has a place that she wants her to come with her. Her friend tells her to run away. (Liu Shu-yen’s profile picture is the same logo symbol on the badge pin and album art cover for Yuan Chi-ling.)

In the phone call, her mother mentions that Hsiao Chia-ying has always preferred her father and continues saying that if she wants her father then don’t bother coming back home and then hangs up. Hsiao Chia-ying is silently crying. Lin Ming-cheng checks in on her and Hsiao Chia-ying says she is fine and that her mother doesn’t want her to go back home. Lin Ming-cheng looks shocked. Hsiao Chia-ying gets off the bus and announces that all she has left are her friends and no one can ditch her. 

In the present moment, Fan Yi-ren (anime figure) is sitting in front of a video camera. He is recounting what he did wrong in front of the camera, saying that he didn’t realize the evidence had been tampered. He continues saying at the time his daughter got hurt and he didn’t bother checking if the evidence and report were done correctly. The medical examiner used the scalpel to poke his finger. The medical examiner (an evil spirit cosplaying as her) asks him about his daughter being framed as a murderer. She tells him he made a mistake and all he did was try to protect Lin Jing-rei’s reputation. Then Fan Yi-ren says it’s his fault for not facing reality. He shouts that Lin Jing-rei was the only one that understood him and other people didn’t understand him. Then the medical examiner said do you even bother to understand other people and how they feel? (A deity puts a talisman on Fan Yi-ren). Fan Yi-ren states that she figured out who did what several years ago and killed the people involved but she didn’t figure out the reason why Hsiao Chia-ying left her mother. Fan Yi-ren said that he knows where she went and can take her there. The medical examiner sends the torture scene video of Fan Yi-ren to Hai-yin. Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng are in the car and they quickly figure out the location of Fan Yi-ren. 

The detectives in the future time travels back to the moment when Hsiao Chia-ying and her mother are having a meal together at a dinner. Hsiao Chia-ying shows her mother a better way to eat french fries by adding sugar to the ketchup. The mother wonders who taught her to eat french fries that way and guesses that it was her father and tells her that they barely escaped from the father and they should move on and forget about him.

Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng arrive at the scene but only see a video camera and glasses on the floor. Hai-yin guessed that Fan Yi-ren was abducted by the medical examiner. They get back into the car and think about the next place they would go. Hsiao-meng thinks back to the conversation the three of them had in the car and about the places on the map. Searching for the location on the smartphone while thinking about the diary and the lyrics pertaining to the place of rebirth, Hsiao-meng thinks of the place of rebirth and on the map it shows the San Leng National Park. Hsiao-meng realizes that auntie Hsueh wants to figure out why her daughter left her. Hai-yin tells Hsiao-meng to send the address of the national park to officer Liao and they drive away. 

Meanwhile, the prosecutor and a team are excavating a skeleton that was buried in the soil by the abandoned building. On the other hand, a black car is parked beside a Phoenix tree. The imposter medical examiner opens up the trunk and Fan Yi-ren (anime figure) is in the trunk. Walking ahead Fan Yi-ren is hand-cuffed while the medical examiner is walking behind with the gun pointing at his back. 

Hsiao-meng feels sad about the whole situation with her father. Hai-yin comforts her that they will find her father. Officer Liao receives the address on his smartphone and the prosecutor decides to let officer Liao go to the national park. The medical examiner asks Fan Yi-ren (anime figure) how he knows this place and he says this place was mentioned in a diary. Fan Yi-ren tells her that Hsiao Chia-ying put a luggage of old things before walking through the tunnel and into the place of rebirth, which is the field of daylilies. Fan Yi-ren opens the luggage and the medical examiner is in disbelief at the contents in the luggage. 

The detectives from the future time travels to the past again and observes why Hsiao Min-chun left her husband. Apparently the divorce happened because the husband is abusive towards Hsiao Min-chun. Her husband is angry about them leaving him and Hsiao Min-chun gets choked but she fights back and he ends up dead (There are evil spirits lurking around the background). 

The skeleton that the team uncovers is the dead body of the father and there are paper windmills around where the skeleton is buried just like how there are paper windmills in the luggage. Hsiao Chia-ying didn’t want her father to be alone in the ground and believes that every person has the chance to be reborn. Fan Yi-ren states that Hsiao Chia-ying has always known that her mother was the one who killed her father. The imposter medical examiner is in disbelief at this revelation, says that her ex-husband was a demon and fires a gunshot at Fan Yi-ren. (A deity puts a talisman on the medical examiner and an evil spirit comes out but another evil spirit goes into the medical examiner to fire the shot). Hai-yin and Hsiao-meng arrive soon after the gunshot and find Fan Yi-ren on the ground bleeding. Hsiao-meng (anime figure) tells the medical examiner that they discovered things about Hsiao Chia-ying from her diary and how she never wanted to leave her mother in the first place. Hsiao-meng extends her hand out and the medical examiner takes her hand but instead of putting the gun down, she points the gun at Hsiao-meng’s head. Sirens can be heard wailing in the background. They walk through the tunnel together. They arrive at the field of daylilies and the medical examiner looks sad. Hsiao-meng asks the medical examiner if she was the one that told her about the rebirth story. She asks her if she heard the audio pen recording of Hsiao Chia-ying singing the song and tells her that Hsiao Chia-ying wanted all her memories of her father to stay here in the field of daylilies where hope is planted. 

Fan Yi-ren finally wakes up and asks where Hsiao-meng is. The medical examiner was pointing the gun at Hsiao-meng. Hsiao-meng tells her this is a place of rebirth and the two of them can start afresh. However, the medical examiner points the gun toward her own temple and a group of police come through and then the medical examiner experiences genjyutsu before triggering the gun. Fan yi-ren tries to stop her from shooting herself. Fan Yi-ren collapses on the ground but looks relieved. The police force arrests the medical examiner and takes her away. 

On the tv, the news is reporting about the new findings about the case from 2008 and the recent serial murders. Hsiao-meng unpacks boxes and takes out a diary. She reads an excerpt in the diary that her father wrote in (they share the diary together). Meanwhile, Fan Yi-ren is helping Hai-yin at the foundation. Hsiao-meng reflects back on what happened during this investigation plus the people involved and writes in the diary. Later, Hsiao-meng is in the driver seat while her father is in the passenger seat. Together they get out of the car and go to the beach. They find a place to sit down and have lunch together. They call each other weird and Hsiao-meng says that she thinks her late mother is also weird for liking her father. Then Fan Yi-ren shares the story of how he met her mother at a finger analysis class and how he accidentally spilled coffee on her but didn’t get angry at him. Later he finds out that she loves the beaches. They eat their lunch as they look at the ocean’s horizon. 

Meanwhile, the prosecutor receives a congratulatory remark from a higher ranking prosecutor for catching Hsueh Hsin-ning. An evil spirit appears and cosplays as the prosecutor and says the case pertaining to Lin Jing-rei is just the beginning and there must be a force behind him. 

The real prosecutor turns invisible and teleports to the prison and receives the chairwoman being released from prison. He hands her a ring which is also the same type of ring he is wearing. The prosecutor tells the chairwoman that he is going to reinvestigate the cases that Lin Jing-rei did to make sure there are no more cover ups. 

P.S.

-The police officer that speaks Taiwanese is a deity from Uranus disguised as a human and the medical examiner is a deity from Neptune disguised as a human

-There is illusionary magic going on

-Detectives from the future are assisting with this criminal investigation

-Some of the police force members were temporarily possessed by different evil spirits during the reinvestigation. #眼笙變了, 聲音也變了 

-Different evil spirits lurking around at different scenes  #知道就知道, 不知道就不知道

-The number 716 is also on the concert ticket

-The picture of Hsueh Hsin-ning and Hsiao Min-Chun is an illusion - 沒有什麼真相 

References:

88RISING - Midsummer madness ft. Joji, Rich Brian, Higher Brothers, AUGUST 8 MV 

Everglow - Pirate MV

ILLIT (아일릿) - Magnetic MV

Karencici - 傻眼了 Yan San MV

My Hero Academia Anime series

[sankavin]

How to Automatically Send Contact Form Data to Google Sheets (No-Code Solution!) 🚀

Still copy-pasting form submissions into Google Sheets? That’s a waste of time, not to mention the risk of losing data or making errors.

The smarter way? Automate the process so every contact form submission is logged in Google Sheets instantly—without lifting a finger. And guess what? No coding required! 🙌

Let’s go step by step and set it up in minutes so you can focus on what matters—your business.

📌 Want the full guide? Read this: How to Send Contact Form Data to Google Sheets for Free

Why Automate Contact Form Data to Google Sheets? 🤔

Manually entering data is frustrating and prone to mistakes. Here’s why Google Sheets contact form automation is a game-changer:

✔ No More Manual Entry – Every submission appears instantly in Google Sheets. ✔ Real-Time Updates – Stay on top of new leads and customer inquiries. ✔ Organized Data – Everything is in one place, neatly stored for easy access. ✔ Team Collaboration – Shared sheets allow your team to view and update leads effortlessly. ✔ Works with Any Form Builder – Whether it’s Google Forms, Typeform, WPForms, or a custom HTML form, this setup works seamlessly.

Step 1: Choose Your Contact Form Tool 📝

First, pick the right form builder for your website. Here are some popular choices:

Google Forms – Free and integrates with Google Sheets, but lacks customization.

Typeform / JotForm – More user-friendly, but requires external integration.

WPForms / Gravity Forms – Best for WordPress users.

Custom Website Forms – Needs an automation tool to sync with Google Sheets.

If your form doesn’t have a built-in option, don’t worry—you can easily integrate it with a no-code automation tool.

Step 2: Connect Your Form to Google Sheets 🔄

Here’s how you can send form data to Google Sheets automatically:

Option 1: Google Forms (Basic but Limited)

✔ If you’re using Google Forms, responses are automatically saved in Google Sheets. ✔ Good for simple surveys and event registrations, but not ideal for business workflows.

Option 2: Google Apps Script (For Techies)

✔ Lets you customize everything, but requires JavaScript knowledge. ✔ Not beginner-friendly and can be difficult to maintain.

If you’re looking for an easier way to sync your form submissions, a no-code Google Sheets integration is the best choice.

Option 3: Use an iPaaS for Seamless Automation (Best Option) 🚀

For a fully automated, no-code setup, an iPaaS like best iPaaS software is the simplest and most efficient way to send form submissions directly to Google Sheets.

Here’s why:

✅ No coding required – Set it up in just a few clicks. ✅ Instant syncing – No delays, all data updates in real time. ✅ Works with Any Contact Form – Whether it’s WordPress, Wix, Shopify, or a custom-built form, it integrates seamlessly. ✅ Custom Field Mapping – Choose exactly what data gets sent to Google Sheets.

📌 Example Workflow: ✔ A visitor fills out a contact form on your website → Their details appear in Google Sheets instantly → Your team gets notified via Slack or email.

🔗 See how best iPaaS software simplifies Google Sheets automation

Step 3: Test Your Automation ✅

Before you go live, make sure everything works perfectly:

✔ Submit a test form and check if the data appears in Google Sheets. ✔ Verify data fields to ensure everything is mapped correctly. ✔ Set up Slack or email notifications for instant alerts on new submissions.

Once everything is working, you're good to go! 🎉

Bonus: What Else Can You Automate? 🤖

If you’re already automating Google Sheets form integration, why stop there?

✔ Send Slack or Email Alerts for new form submissions. ✔ Push leads directly into your CRM (HubSpot, Salesforce, etc.). ✔ Trigger an automatic email response. ✔ Create a dynamic dashboard to track submissions in real-time.

With best iPaaS software, you can connect your form submissions with any tool—without writing a single line of code.

📌 Need a step-by-step guide? Read the full tutorial here.

Final Thoughts – Automate & Save Time! ⏳

Manually updating Google Sheets with form submissions is outdated and inefficient. By automating this process, you:

✔ Save hours of manual work. ✔ Reduce errors & keep data clean. ✔ Get real-time access to leads & customer inquiries.

Whether you need to auto-fill Google Sheets from website forms or set up a no-code workflow, automation makes everything easier.

🚀 Want an effortless setup? Best iPaaS software lets you automate everything in minutes.

📌 Read the Full Guide Here 👀: How to Send Contact Form Data to Google Sheets for Free

[adznetworkmedia]

The Impact of Geofencing on Consumer Privacy: Balancing Marketing and Ethics

Geofencing Automation Marketing is currently revolutionizing business-consumer connections by utilizing location-based technologies to deliver highly personalized messages to potential customers within specific geographic zones. This powerful marketing tool, while offering immense potential, also raises significant ethical concerns and questions about consumer privacy. This blog post delves into the impact of geofencing on privacy and explores how businesses can maintain a balance between effective marketing strategies and consumer rights.

What is Geofencing Automation Marketing?

Geofencing automation marketing is a technology-driven strategy that uses virtual boundaries around specific locations to trigger actions such as sending ads, push notifications, or other forms of communication to users' mobile devices. For example, a retail store might use geofencing to notify nearby customers about ongoing sales or discounts when they pass within a set radius of the store.

By integrating geofencing with automation tools, businesses can target specific demographics, schedule campaigns, and measure results with precision. However, this technological advancement also means that businesses are collecting and utilizing sensitive location data, which can create unease among consumers.

How Geofencing Impacts Consumer Privacy

Collection of Sensitive DataGeofencing relies on data from GPS, Wi-Fi, Bluetooth, and cell towers to determine a user’s location. When businesses track a consumer’s movements to send location-based messages, they gain access to sensitive behavioral insights. This data can reveal where people live, work, or spend their free time, raising concerns about how the information is stored and used.

Lack of Consumer AwarenessMany consumers are unaware that their location is being tracked when they download apps or use services that integrate geofencing. This lack of transparency can lead to a sense of violation, especially if users do not fully understand or consent to the data being collected.

Potential for MisuseIf geofencing data falls into the wrong hands or is used irresponsibly, it can lead to intrusive marketing practices or even malicious activities. For example, hyper-targeted ads can feel invasive, and sensitive location data could be exploited if not adequately protected.

Legal and Regulatory ChallengesLaws like the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) in Europe and the California Consumer Privacy Act (CCPA) in the U.S. impose strict guidelines on the collection and use of personal data. Non-compliance with these regulations can result in hefty fines, legal consequences, and damage to a company’s reputation.

Balancing Marketing Effectiveness with Ethics

To ensure Geofencing Automation Marketing remains effective and ethical, businesses must adopt best practices that respect consumer privacy and adhere to regulatory requirements.

Transparent Data Collection

Clearly inform users about what data is being collected and why.

Use simple, jargon-free language in privacy policies and app notifications.

Transparency builds trust and allows consumers to make informed decisions about sharing their location data.

Opt-In Mechanisms

Always obtain explicit consent before collecting location data.

Provide an easy-to-use opt-in and opt-out system to give users control over their preferences.

For example, apps can ask users if they want to enable location services for personalized offers.

Data Minimization

Collect only the data necessary to achieve the marketing objective.

Avoid storing data longer than needed, and anonymize it wherever possible.

This reduces the risk of misuse or breaches.

Secure Data Storage

Implement robust encryption methods to protect location data.

Regularly audit systems to ensure compliance with security standards.

A proactive approach to cybersecurity can prevent data breaches and bolster consumer confidence.

Ethical Marketing Practices

Avoid bombarding users with excessive notifications or ads.

Respect the context in which messages are delivered, ensuring they are helpful and non-intrusive.

For instance, sending a timely discount offer when a consumer is near a store is more effective and less invasive than relentless notifications.

Compliance with Privacy Laws

Stay updated on relevant laws like GDPR, CCPA, and others that govern data usage.

Design marketing campaigns with these regulations in mind to avoid penalties.

Consulting legal experts can help businesses navigate the complex landscape of data privacy laws.

Real-World Examples of Ethical Geofencing

StarbucksStarbucks uses geofencing to send personalized offers to app users who are near their stores. By offering value-driven notifications like discounts or rewards, they ensure their marketing efforts are both relevant and welcomed by consumers.

WalgreensWalgreens employs geofencing to remind customers about prescription pickups when they are near a store. This service-oriented approach enhances customer experience while respecting their privacy.

UberUber relies on geofencing to improve operational efficiency, such as sending notifications to drivers about high-demand areas. This use case highlights how geofencing can be valuable without being intrusive.

Geofencing Automation Marketing is a powerful tool that enables businesses to connect with consumers in innovative ways. However, the success of this technology hinges on its ethical use and respect for consumer privacy. By prioritizing transparency, consent, and data security, businesses can create a balance that fosters trust and drives meaningful engagement.

In a world where digital marketing is becoming increasingly data-driven, ethical practices are not just a legal requirement but a business imperative. With the right approach, geofencing can be a win-win for both marketers and consumers, paving the way for a more connected yet privacy-conscious future.

[differenz-system]

The Impact of Mobile Applications on Local Businesses

In today’s digital era, mobile applications have revolutionized the way businesses operate, especially at the local level. From enhancing customer engagement to streamlining operations, mobile apps have become indispensable for small and medium-sized businesses. With consumers spending an increasing amount of time on their smartphones, local businesses that embrace mobile technology gain a competitive edge, driving growth and improving customer satisfaction.

Enhancing Customer Engagement

One of the most significant impacts of mobile applications on local businesses is their ability to enhance customer engagement. With a mobile app, businesses can stay connected with their customers 24/7, sending push notifications about new products, discounts, and promotions.

For instance, a local coffee shop can use its mobile app to offer loyalty rewards, notify customers about special offers, and enable mobile ordering. This not only fosters customer loyalty but also improves overall sales. Customers are more likely to engage with a business that provides seamless and personalized experiences through an app development.

Improving Brand Visibility and Recognition

A well-designed mobile application helps in improving brand visibility. With an app icon on a user’s smartphone, businesses are constantly present in the daily lives of consumers. Unlike websites, which require users to open a browser and search for a business, mobile apps are just a tap away. This ease of access increases brand recall and keeps customers engaged.

Additionally, businesses can integrate their mobile apps with social media, allowing users to share their experiences, leave reviews, and promote the business within their networks. This organic marketing boosts brand recognition and attracts new customers.

Boosting Sales and Revenue

Mobile applications significantly contribute to increased sales and revenue. With features like in-app purchases, easy payment options, and personalized recommendations, businesses can encourage more transactions.

For example, a local restaurant can enable online ordering and payment through its app, making it more convenient for customers to place orders. By offering personalized promotions based on customer preferences, businesses can further drive repeat purchases. The ability to integrate mobile payment systems such as Apple Pay, Google Pay, or PayPal simplifies transactions, enhancing the overall shopping experience.

Providing Valuable Customer Insights

Mobile applications generate valuable customer data that can be used to refine business strategies. Businesses can track user behavior, preferences, and purchase history to tailor their offerings accordingly. This data-driven approach helps in creating targeted marketing campaigns that resonate with customers.

For instance, a retail store can analyze which products are frequently viewed or purchased through the app and adjust inventory accordingly. By understanding customer preferences, businesses can offer personalized recommendations, leading to higher customer satisfaction and retention.

Enhancing Customer Support and Communication

Customer service is a crucial aspect of any business, and mobile applications have made it easier for businesses to provide efficient support. Features like chatbots, live chat, and FAQs enable customers to get instant assistance without having to visit a store or make a phone call.

For instance, a local repair service provider can allow customers to book appointments, track service progress, and communicate with support staff through an app. This not only improves customer experience but also streamlines operations, reducing the need for manual intervention.

Encouraging Customer Loyalty

Loyalty programs integrated into mobile apps are highly effective in retaining customers. Businesses can reward repeat customers with discounts, exclusive offers, or points that can be redeemed for future purchases.

For example, a local salon can offer points for every booking made through the app, encouraging customers to return. This not only fosters customer loyalty but also increases the lifetime value of each customer.

Streamlining Operations

Beyond customer engagement, mobile apps also help businesses streamline their internal operations. Many local businesses use mobile applications for inventory management, appointment scheduling, and employee coordination.

A small business, such as a boutique or a home-service provider, can use an app to manage appointments, send reminders, and track inventory levels in real time. This automation reduces human errors, increases efficiency, and saves time, allowing business owners to focus on growth and customer satisfaction.

Staying Ahead of Competitors

In a highly competitive market, having a mobile application gives local businesses a distinct advantage over competitors that rely solely on traditional methods. A mobile app sets a business apart by offering convenience, accessibility, and a personalized experience.

For example, if two similar local grocery stores exist, the one offering an app with home delivery, digital coupons, and easy payment options will likely attract more customers. Consumers today prioritize convenience, and businesses that adapt to these changing preferences are more likely to thrive.

Austin App Development: Transforming Local Businesses

Austin app development has played a crucial role in helping local businesses leverage mobile technology for growth. With Austin’s thriving tech scene, many businesses are investing in custom mobile applications to improve customer experience, enhance brand recognition, and streamline operations. Whether it’s a restaurant offering a seamless ordering system or a retail store integrating loyalty programs, mobile apps are reshaping the way businesses operate in Austin.

Conclusion

The impact of mobile applications on local businesses is undeniable. From enhancing customer engagement and boosting sales to improving brand visibility and streamlining operations, mobile apps have transformed the way local businesses function. In an increasingly digital world, adopting mobile technology is no longer an option but a necessity for businesses looking to grow and stay competitive.

Local businesses that invest in a well-designed, user-friendly mobile application can build stronger relationships with customers, increase revenue, and position themselves for long-term success. As technology continues to evolve, the role of mobile apps in shaping the future of local businesses will only grow stronger. Now is the time for local businesses to embrace mobile applications and harness their full potential.

[oracle-fusion-financials-1]

Managing Approvals, Invoices, and Reports On the Go.

In today's fast-paced business environment, having the ability to manage critical tasks like approvals, invoices, and reports on the go can make a significant difference in maintaining productivity and meeting deadlines. Here's how users can leverage modern tools and best practices to streamline these processes effectively.

1. Leverage Mobile-Friendly Applications

Mobile applications provided by enterprise resource planning (ERP) systems such as Oracle Fusion Financials enable users to handle tasks from anywhere. These apps are designed with intuitive interfaces that allow users to:

Approve Requests Instantly: Notifications for pending approvals can be accessed directly on your mobile device, enabling real-time decision-making. Whether it's a purchase order, expense claim, or invoice approval, mobile apps ensure you stay connected.

Submit and Manage Invoices: Users can upload invoices using mobile cameras, attach necessary documents, and submit them for processing, reducing manual effort and paperwork.

Access Reports On Demand: Dashboards and reports can be viewed on smartphones or tablets, providing real-time insights into financial performance and operational metrics.

2. Enable Push Notifications and Alerts

Staying updated with pending tasks is crucial for timely execution. By enabling push notifications and email alerts, users can:

Receive reminders for overdue approvals.

Get notified about discrepancies in invoices or errors in submissions.

Be informed of critical updates, such as report finalizations or compliance requirements.

These alerts help ensure that nothing slips through the cracks, even during a busy schedule.

3. Utilize Cloud-Based Solutions

Cloud-based platforms allow seamless access to approvals, invoices, and reports from any device. This eliminates the need for being tied to a specific office or device. Features like multi-device synchronization ensure:

Consistency across devices, allowing users to start a task on one device and complete it on another.

Secure data storage and retrieval, ensuring that sensitive financial information remains protected.

4. Incorporate AI-Driven Assistance

AI tools integrated into ERP systems can enhance efficiency by:

Automating Approval Flows: AI can identify routine approvals and automate them, requiring manual intervention only for exceptions.

Streamlining Invoice Processing: Optical Character Recognition (OCR) tools can extract data from invoices and auto-populate forms, reducing manual data entry.

Providing Intelligent Reporting: AI-driven analytics can highlight trends, anomalies, and actionable insights in reports, making decision-making faster and more accurate.

5. Ensure Security and Compliance

Managing sensitive financial information on the go necessitates robust security measures. Users should:

Use multi-factor authentication (MFA) to secure access to apps.

Ensure all devices have the latest software updates and security patches.

Follow organizational compliance protocols, such as data encryption and secure network connections.

6. Adopt a Collaborative Approach

Collaboration tools integrated within ERP systems allow team members to:

Share invoices and reports for review.

Discuss approval decisions in real-time using chat or comment features.

Access a shared repository of financial documents, ensuring transparency and accountability.

Conclusion

By leveraging mobile-friendly ERP applications, enabling real-time notifications, and adopting cloud-based, AI-enhanced, and secure systems, businesses can empower their teams to manage approvals, invoices, and reports efficiently on the go. Staying connected and informed ensures that critical tasks are completed without delays, driving organizational productivity and success. To Your bright future join Oracle Fusion Financials.

[inventcolabsoftware]

What Are the Essential Features of a Tinder Clone App?

Dating apps like Tinder have completely changed the way people meet and connect in today's fast-paced digital world. Understanding the key elements is essential if you want to develop a Tinder clone to succeed in this cutthroat market. This post will review key features that will help your app differentiate itself and meet user expectations.

1. Registration of Users and Creation of Profiles

Attracting people to your app starts with a smooth onboarding process. Important components consist of:

Various Ways to Sign Up: Permit people to sign up with their phone number, email address, or social network accounts (like Google or Facebook).

Configuring a Profile: Give users the option to establish profiles by adding images, writing bios, and indicating their hobbies, age, and gender.

Features of Verification: Use email or photo verification to minimize phony profiles and guarantee authenticity.

2. Matching Based on Location

The location-based matching algorithm is the foundation of a Tinder app clone. Using GPS technology, the application is able to:

Determine which users are inside a given radius.

Make dynamic recommendations according to proximity.

Permit users to specify their preferred match distance.

3. Swipe Feature

When it comes to developing a dating app Tinder's well-known swiping functionality is revolutionary. Combine these elements to replicate that success.

Swipe right to like: Swipe right to show interest.

Swipe left to pass: Use swipe left to reject a profile.

Favorite option: Assign special tasks to users to show more interest.

4. Algorithm for Matching

Users are guaranteed to find important combinations with a robust matching system. The most important things to keep in mind are:

Filters for settings: Users are matched based on hobbies, geography, and age.

Behavior analysis: Instead, analyze user behavior using machine learning to make better recommendations.

Competition between two people is: Notify users when two parties show interest in each other.

5. Chat Now

After users are paired Communication is therefore important. Integrated, feature-rich and secure chat system where:

Teaching: It facilitates smooth communication using text messages.

Share media: Allows users to post audio, video, and image comments.

Check your receipt: Includes read status and message delivery indicators.

6. Push Notifications

Push notifications are important for maintaining user engagement. Examples include:

Information for the competition

Notifications for new messages

Stay up to date with the latest features or exclusive offers.

7. Premium Subscription Model

The secret to maintaining your app is monetizing it. Use a freemium business model:

Ad-free experience: Premium users should remove ads.

Endless Swipe: Provides unlimited swiping access.

Swipe to go back: Allows premium users to reverse accidental swipes.

Increase your profile visibility: Add light for a specified period of time.

8. Security and Privacy Features

Users must feel safe when using your software. Important privacy aspects include:

Blocking and reporting: Allows users to report or block inappropriate profiles.

Personal method: It gives users the opportunity to browse the web anonymously.

Data encryption: Protect user data to prevent security breaches

9. Social Media integration

Social media platforms can be integrated to increase user engagement. It has the ability to:

Simplify the registration process

Allows users to show common friends or similar interests from Instagram or Spotify.

10. Gameplay Features

Gamification can improve app user engagement. Some considerations include:

Daily Swipe Limit: Limiting the number of free swipes will encourage users to return each day.

Reward system: Award badges or points for completing certain tasks, such as completing your profile.

Challenges: Create a quiz or mini-game to help people get to know each other better.

11. Admin Dashboard and Analytics

Provides an admin panel with analytics to manage the program effectively. Key features include:

User view: Monitor user preferences and behavior

Performance criteria: Track your app's engagement rate and performance.

Material handling: Review and accept reported profiles or inappropriate content.

12. Multi-language Support

Make your app multilingual to increase your user base. In addition to providing services to a diverse user population, This also ensures integration.

13. More Complex Search Filters

Matching can present complex filters for those looking for special features, such as:

Education level

Business

The purpose of the partnership (e.g. long-term partnership casual dating)

Conclusion:

Creating a Tinder clone app requires attention to user experience, innovative features, and robust security measures in dating app development. By integrating the essential functionalities outlined above, you can build a competitive app that attracts and retains users. Remember, the key to success is balancing user expectations with unique value propositions that set your app apart from the competition.

[adversarialharrow]

Tokens of for the Heart

Once upon a time in the quaint town of Eldergrove, there lived a spirited girl named Lily. One day, while scrolling through her phone, she stumbled upon the Limmy Sorcerers app, a magical tool that promised quests, rewards, and the opportunity to unlock special powers. Intrigued, she quickly downloaded it, eager to embark on her adventure.

As she set up her profile, the app buzzed with energy, and a magical aura enveloped her. The screen displayed her first quest: “Discover the Secrets of Eldergrove.” Excitement bubbled within her as she set off toward the woods surrounding her town, armed with her curiosity and a sense of adventure.

There were all sorts of trees. They were really tall, different kinds, too. Lily ventured deep into the forest, earning points for every path creature encountered. The thrill of exploration fueled her, and she felt a deep connection to the enchanting world around her.

The app chimed, notifying her that she had unlocked a special power: “Clarity of the Heart.” Confused but intrigued, she tapped the screen and pocketed the pendant and continued her quest.

Meanwhile somewhere else, the dim light of a room flickered as Jake paced nervously, his heart racing with anticipation. The Limmy Sorcerers app, the same app, had just given him a bizarre quest: “Embrace the Humble Spirit.” It was an unusual challenge, one that required him to fully immerse himself in a very specific and special dog bowl nearby to earn points and rewards. He glanced at the dog bowl sitting in the corner, the shiny metal reflecting his uncertainty. He muttered to himself, shaking off the lingering doubt.

“This reward should prove that I am worthy.”

With a deep breath, he got down on all fours, the cool floor beneath him sending a shiver up his spine. He felt ridiculous, but the lure of rewards was too strong to resist. He approached the bowl, filled with dry kibble, and hesitated for a moment, the absurdity of the situation washing over him. But he reminded himself of the potential rewards and the power he could unlock.

“Just… commit to it,” he whispered, steeling his resolve.

Jake leaned closer, the scent of the kibble filling his nostrils. He took a moment to gather himself, focusing on the task at hand. With a final breath, he lowered his head and began to eat, the crunch of the kibble echoing in the silence of the room.

His phone sounded off and sounded the victory sound. Too doo! As he chewed, he felt a strange mix of humiliation and exhilaration. Ding ding! The app buzzed with notifications, offering encouragement and points for his commitment. Woo hoo! With each bite, he could feel the energy of the game fueling him, pushing him deeper into the role he had chosen. Yum!

Suddenly, a notification chimed: **“You’ve embraced the humble spirit! Points awarded: 50.”**

A surge of excitement coursed through him. The initial embarrassment began to dissolve as he accepted a script. He was immersed in the experience, the absurdity of it blending into something.

Just then, the door creaked open, and Lily walked in, her eyes widening. She froze for a moment, taking in the sight of Jake on all fours, eating from the dog bowl.

She jumped on his back no shirt on and began to “ride the bull”

"This was it.” Jake said.

+75 Jake’s cheeks flushed as he quickly lifted his head, trying while still on the floor. He shrugged, a sheepish grin breaking through his embarrassment. She landed down beside him, and the two of them shared a laugh, the absurdity of the situation drawing them together for a second and it was committed to the block and ledger.

+200

In the most unconventional way, they were forging a new bond, one that they were disciplined to know would not move beyond the game’s rewards and points and it would become malware to lock up systems for ransomware. I can’t believe and you can’t believe that Jake and Lily even knew each other much less did that yeah no you can’t believe Jake and Lily had a moment like that.

In that moment, Jake realized that sometimes, the dumbest most innocuous jokes can lead to the most brutal, mental torture when someone’s dad wants to know why their son‘s girlfriend was on top of a dude, with no shirt on, who was eating out of a dog bowl? This became like passive income, passive debt to loss.

The dad reflects on his life and the trajectory of his oldest son, who attended school with a seemingly average peer who has transformed into a powerful tycoon leading the charge in a revolutionary market to use DApps by and be leveraging tokens that represent real-world assets.

The owl flew in to say something and then forgot he was real.

[dinoustecch]

Build Your Dream App with a Skilled Fantasy Cricket App Developer

The cricket fever never fades, and with the rise of fantasy cricket apps, fans are finding new ways to connect with the sport. These apps are not just entertainment platforms; they’re a booming business opportunity for entrepreneurs looking to tap into the massive cricket fanbase. To turn your vision into reality, collaborating with a skilled fantasy cricket app developer is the first step toward creating an engaging, scalable, and profitable application.

Why Build a Fantasy Cricket App?

Fantasy cricket apps have become immensely popular in recent years, driven by the growing digitalization of sports and the increasing number of cricket tournaments like the Indian Premier League (IPL). Here’s why building a fantasy cricket app is a great business idea:

Massive User Base: Cricket is a religion in many countries, especially India. With millions of fans, the potential user base for your app is vast.

High Engagement: Fantasy cricket apps allow users to create their own teams, participate in contests, and compete with friends, keeping them engaged.

Revenue Potential: Monetization options such as in-app purchases, advertisements, entry fees, and premium subscriptions ensure a steady income stream.

Market Growth: The fantasy sports industry is growing at an unprecedented rate, with a CAGR of over 30%, making it a lucrative sector for investment.

Essential Features for Your Dream App

To stand out in the competitive market, your fantasy cricket app must offer an exceptional user experience with advanced features. A skilled developer ensures your app includes:

User Registration and Profile Management: Simple and secure sign-up options using email, social media, or phone numbers.

Fantasy Team Creation: Let users build their own teams by selecting players based on real-life match performance.

Live Match Updates: Real-time scores, player statistics, and match schedules keep users informed.

Contests and Leagues: Offer daily, weekly, and tournament-based contests to keep users engaged.

Reward System: Introduce points, badges, and cash rewards to incentivize user participation.

Push Notifications: Notify users about upcoming matches, contests, and rewards to ensure they never miss out.

Social Sharing: Enable users to share their achievements and invite friends to join the app.

Secure Payment Gateways: Seamless and secure transactions for deposits and withdrawals.

Advanced Analytics: Provide users with in-depth player and team statistics to help them make informed decisions.

The Role of a Skilled Fantasy Cricket App Developer

Creating a fantasy cricket app requires more than just coding skills. A skilled developer brings expertise, creativity, and technical proficiency to the table. Here’s how they contribute to building your dream app:

Understanding Your Vision: A skilled developer takes the time to understand your business goals and user expectations, ensuring the app aligns with your vision.

Customization: They create tailored solutions that cater to your target audience, offering unique features that set your app apart.

Scalable Architecture: A professional developer designs the app to handle increasing user traffic, especially during major tournaments like the IPL.

Integration of Advanced Technologies: Leveraging tools like Artificial Intelligence (AI), Machine Learning (ML), and real-time APIs enhances the app’s functionality and user experience.

Security and Compliance: Ensuring the app complies with legal regulations and integrates robust security features to protect user data is a priority for skilled developers.

Testing and Maintenance: A skilled developer conducts rigorous testing to eliminate bugs and offers ongoing maintenance to keep the app running smoothly.

How to Choose the Right Developer

Selecting the right developer is crucial for the success of your fantasy cricket app. Here’s what to consider:

Experience in Fantasy Sports Apps: Look for developers with a proven track record in creating fantasy sports platforms.

Technical Expertise: Ensure they have expertise in programming languages, frameworks, and tools required for app development.

Portfolio and Reviews: Check their previous work and client testimonials to assess their capabilities.

Communication Skills: Clear and transparent communication is essential for a smooth development process.

Post-Launch Support: Opt for developers who provide maintenance and updates after the app’s launch.

Why Invest in a Fantasy Cricket App?

Investing in a fantasy cricket app is not just about leveraging cricket’s popularity; it’s about building a sustainable business. Here’s how your app can benefit your brand:

Enhanced Brand Visibility: A well-designed app increases your visibility in the competitive market.

Revenue Growth: With multiple monetization options, your app can become a significant revenue generator.

User Loyalty: Engaging features and rewards foster long-term user loyalty.

Data Insights: Advanced analytics help you understand user behavior and refine your strategies.

Conclusion

Building your dream fantasy cricket app is a journey that starts with choosing the right developer. A skilled fantasy cricket app developer not only brings your vision to life but also ensures the app is scalable, user-friendly, and profitable. With the right features, cutting-edge technologies, and seamless performance, your app can captivate cricket enthusiasts and carve a niche in the booming fantasy sports industry.

Collaborate with a professional developer today and turn your dream into a reality. Your fantasy cricket app could be the next big thing in the world of sports entertainment!

For more information, visit us: -

Fantasy Sports App Development Company

Flutter App Development Company in India

MLM Software Development Company

[cogneisssystems]

Top Features Businesses Need in iOS and Android Apps for Brisbane’s Market

In Brisbane’s vibrant and competitive business landscape, having a mobile app is no longer a luxury; it’s a necessity. Whether you’re a local startup or an established enterprise, your app must stand out and meet the specific needs of Brisbane’s diverse market. To ensure your app resonates with users and adds value to your business, incorporating the right features is key. Here are the top features businesses need in iOS and Android websites in Brisbane’s market.

1. User-Friendly Navigation

Simplicity is crucial for keeping users engaged.

Intuitive Design Brisbane users appreciate apps with clean, intuitive interfaces that make navigation effortless.

Search Functionality Include robust search tools with filters and suggestions to enhance user experience.

2. Localization Features

Catering to the local audience is essential.

Language Options While English is the primary language, apps should accommodate diverse cultural groups in Brisbane.

Geolocation Integration Provide location-based services such as nearby stores, events, or promotions relevant to Brisbane.

3. Online Payment Integration

Convenient payment options are a must for any app dealing with transactions.

Multiple Payment Methods Support credit/debit cards, PayPal, and emerging payment methods like Apple Pay or Google Pay.

Security Features Ensure all payment gateways comply with the highest security standards to build trust.

4. Push Notifications

Keep your users informed and engaged.

Custom Alerts Notify users about special offers, updates, or events happening in Brisbane.

Smart Scheduling Send notifications at times that align with Brisbane’s typical user activity patterns.

5. Social Media Integration

In a digitally connected world, social sharing is vital.

Login Options Allow users to sign up or log in via social media accounts like Facebook, Instagram, or LinkedIn.

Share Features Enable users to share products, services, or achievements directly from the app.

6. Offline Mode

Internet connectivity can be unpredictable, even in urban areas.

Core Features Accessibility Allow users to access essential functions, like viewing previously downloaded content, without an internet connection.

Data Synchronization Automatically update offline data once the user reconnects to the internet.

7. Personalization Options

Apps that adapt to individual user preferences perform better.

Customizable Interface Allow users to adjust themes, layouts, or notification preferences.

AI-Powered Recommendations Use AI to suggest products, content, or services based on user behavior.

8. Sustainability Features

Sustainability is a growing concern in Brisbane.

Eco-Friendly Initiatives Include features that encourage sustainable practices, like tracking carbon footprints or supporting local eco-friendly businesses.

Paperless Receipts Offer digital receipts and invoices to reduce paper usage.

9. Advanced Analytics and Feedback

Understanding your audience is key to improving your app.

Analytics Dashboard Provide businesses with data on user behavior, preferences, and app performance.

Feedback Mechanism Allow users to share their thoughts or report issues directly within the app.

10. Multi-Device Compatibility

Ensure your app works seamlessly across various devices.

Responsive Design Optimize the app for different screen sizes, from smartphones to tablets.

Cross-Platform Syncing Allow users to switch between devices without losing their progress.

Conclusion

To thrive in Brisbane’s competitive market, businesses need apps that are intuitive, localized, and equipped with features that address user needs. By incorporating these must-have functionalities, you can create a mobile app that not only engages your audience but also drives business growth. Whether you’re developing for iOS, Android, or both, prioritizing these features will set your app apart and help you succeed in Brisbane’s dynamic market.

[elite1mcommerce]

Seamlessly Elevate Your Online Business: The Power of Ready-Made eCommerce Apps and Mobile Solutions

The keys to success in the fast-paced world of internet shopping are efficiency and agility. In order to stay competitive, businesses need to quickly adjust to the growing demand for simplified purchasing experiences. Ready-made eCommerce apps and eCommerce mobile apps are revolutionary tools that enable companies to prosper in the digital sphere. This essay explores the special benefits of these solutions and how they could revolutionize your company.

The development of online storesOver time, eCommerce platforms have evolved from intricate, custom-coded systems to modular, approachable alternatives. Ready-made eCommerce software, which provides pre-built frameworks to make managing an online store easier, exemplifies this change. Similarly, eCommerce mobile apps cater to the growing mobile-first audience, ensuring businesses remain accessible and relevant in a smartphone-dominated market. Why opt for premade eCommerce applications?

Ready-made eCommerce apps give businesses a quick and affordable route to success online by removing the obstacles associated with traditional development. These apps include essential elements that serve a range of industries, from electronics and fashion to food and services.

  Benefits and key features: quick and simple deployment

Avoid the drawn-out development procedure and open your store quickly. Already configured systems simplify technical issues so you can focus on operations. Adaptable Templates

Customize your storefront with options for easy-to-use designs. Keep your brand identity consistent while allowing for flexible customization. Gateways for Secure Payments

Several safe payment methods will help you earn the trust of your customers. Supporting international transactions expands your clientele. Tools for Inventory Management

Easily automate inventory adjustments and keep track of stock levels. Reduce mistakes and expedite the reordering procedure. Integrations in Marketing

Make use of integrated tools, such as social media integration, email marketing, and SEO optimization. Increase sales and traffic through marketing efforts.

Real-Life Success Stories:

Within three months of launching its ready-made eCommerce app, a tiny boutique noticed a 40% boost in sales. A home décor store was able to save operating expenses by 25% by using already-connected inventory tools.

The crucial function of mobile apps for eCommerce Companies must prioritize mobile-friendly solutions because mobile commerce accounts for a significant portion of online sales. In today's shopping environment, eCommerce mobile apps are essential due to their unparalleled ease of use. Benefits of Mobile Applications:

Better User Experience

Compared to regular websites, mobile applications are quicker and more responsive. Features like tailored product recommendations increase engagement. Push Alerts

Notify clients of order updates, special offers, and new arrivals. Increase retention through pertinent and timely messages. Access Offline

Make it possible for customers to peruse catalogs without an internet connection. Regardless of connectivity, guarantee a flawless shopping experience. Checkout with Just One Click

Utilize saved payment and delivery information to streamline transactions. Reduce cart abandonment to boost conversion rates. Loyalty Initiatives and Incentives

We have incorporated reward schemes to encourage recurring purchases. Create enduring relationships with customers by making tailored offerings. Case Studies: After introducing loyalty awards, a supermarket delivery app witnessed a 50% increase in repeat business. A clothes retailer's mobile app was responsible for a 35% increase in monthly income.

The collaboration between mobile solutions and pre-made apps Combining a mobile app and an eCommerce platform creates a powerful ecosystem that caters to both desktop and mobile users. This dual strategy guarantees consistency and accessibility across all customer touchpoints. Advantages of Integration

Integrated User Interface

Preserve functionality and branding on mobile and online devices. Make the process of browsing and checking out smooth. Increased Reach of the Audience

Take advantage of both desktop and mobile-first consumers. Utilize mobile-driven purchasing habits to access growing markets. Advanced Information Analysis

Learn how customers behave across a variety of channels. Improve marketing tactics by making data-driven choices. Scalability

Expand product lines or handle more traffic with ease. Make your company future-proof by implementing flexible technologies. How to Pick the Appropriate Option Your company's demands and objectives must be carefully considered while choosing the best eCommerce technologies. Take into account the following elements: Usability

Choose platforms with low learning curves and user-friendly interfaces. Personalization

Make sure the solution allows for feature additions and branding flexibility. Integration Proficiencies

Check for third-party tools, CRM, and ERP compatibility. Assistance and Upkeep

Select suppliers who offer consistent updates and dependable customer service. Economicalness

Examine pricing schemes to strike a balance between value and affordability. eCommerce's Future The world of digital commerce is always changing, with innovations like voice commerce, augmented reality purchasing, and AI-driven personalization influencing its course. Businesses can adopt these advances with the help of pre-made eCommerce apps and mobile solutions, which guarantee long-term profitability and flexibility. Conclusion Innovation and adaptability are critical in the cutthroat world of eCommerce. eCommerce mobile apps and ready-made eCommerce apps provide the ideal balance of scalability, cost, and functionality. With the help of these tools, companies can effectively engage customers, build a strong online presence, and promote long-term growth. Don't let traditional development's complications hold you back. Take advantage of these cutting-edge technologies to grow your internet business. Are you prepared to take advantage of the eCommerce future that lies ahead?

[devoqdesign]

The Science of App Icon Design: Crafting Memorable First Impressions

mobile applications have become a cornerstone for consuming content. Blogs, in particular, have found a thriving home in the mobile ecosystem, where readers seek quick, engaging, and easily accessible material. Designing a mobile app for showcasing the best blog content involves thoughtful planning, user-centric features, and aesthetic appeal. Here’s an exploration of the essential design elements, functionalities, and considerations for creating a compelling mobile app tailored for blog readers.

Understand the Target Audience

Before diving into the design process, it is crucial to understand the needs and preferences of the target audience. Bloggers often cater to niches such as travel, food, technology, fashion, or personal development. 

Key Features to Include

Personalized Feed

An AI-driven personalized feed enhances user engagement. By analyzing user preferences, the app can recommend blog posts aligned with their interests. Categories and tags can also allow users to customize their experience.

Search and Filtering Options

A robust search feature is vital for helping users locate specific blog posts. Add filters like date, popularity, tags, and categories for efficient navigation.

Offline Reading Mode

Offline access allows users to download and read content without internet connectivity. This feature is especially useful for commuters or travelers.

Social Sharing Tools

Enable easy sharing of blog posts on social media platforms. This feature can increase the blog’s reach and attract new readers.

Push Notifications

Notify users about new posts, updates, or trending articles. Personalize these notifications based on user interests to avoid overwhelming them.

Bookmarking and Favorites

Provide users with options to save their favorite articles or bookmark posts for later reading. Organizing bookmarks into folders can add an extra layer of convenience.

3. Design Elements for a Seamless Experience

Intuitive Navigation

The app should have a straightforward and easy-to-navigate interface. Use standard design patterns like a bottom navigation bar or a hamburger menu for simplicity.

Responsive Design

Ensure the app adapts seamlessly to different screen sizes and orientations. A responsive design enhances usability across devices.

Typography and Readability

Select fonts that are legible and visually appealing. Use proper spacing, font sizes, and contrast to ensure a comfortable reading experience, even for lengthy articles.

Visual Hierarchy

Organize content with a clear visual hierarchy. Headlines, subheadings, and images should guide the user’s eye naturally through the content.

4. Monetization Strategies

Subscription Plans

Offer premium subscriptions for ad-free reading, exclusive content, or early access to posts.

In-App Advertising

Carefully integrate ads to avoid disrupting the user experience. Native ads or sponsored content can be less intrusive.

5. Incorporate Analytics for Optimization

Use analytics tools to track user behavior, popular articles, and retention rates. This data helps refine the app’s features and content strategy. A/B testing can also determine the effectiveness of design changes and new functionalities.

6. Accessibility Considerations

An inclusive app design ensures all users, including those with disabilities, can enjoy the content. Key accessibility features include:

Screen reader compatibility.

Adjustable text size and color contrast.

Voice command functionality.

7. Security and Privacy

With increasing concerns over data security, ensure that the app complies with regulations like GDPR or CCPA. Clearly outline privacy policies and protect user data with robust encryption.

8. Testing and Iteration

Thoroughly test the app to identify and fix bugs. Gather feedback from beta users to refine the design and functionality. Regular updates based on user suggestions keep the app relevant and engaging.

9. Marketing and Promotion

Promote the app through social media, email newsletters, and collaborations with influencers. Highlight unique features and offer introductory discounts for premium subscriptions to attract users.

Conclusion

Designing a mobile app for the best blog content requires a perfect blend of functionality, aesthetics, and user-centric features. By focusing on personalization, seamless navigation, and high-quality content presentation, you can create an app that not only showcases blog posts effectively but also fosters long-term reader engagement. With continuous optimization and attention to user feedback, your app can become a go-to platform for avid blog readers.

Devoq Design Company is a renowned UI/UX Design Agency in New South Wales and Victoria, offering exceptional design solutions that elevate digital experiences. With a commitment to innovation and user-centric design, the agency specializes in crafting intuitive interfaces that cater to the specific needs of businesses in these regions. As a leading UI/UX Design Agency in Victoria, Devoq Design Company combines creativity and technical expertise to deliver impactful designs that enhance user engagement and drive success. Whether in New South Wales or Victoria, the agency is a trusted partner for cutting-edge UI/UX services.