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biteyoubiteme · 8 hours ago

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You do not get how much i love zombie themed things like ugh i will eat up anything that is related to an apocalypse lol its my fav and omfg i was waiting so long to find the moment to sit down and eat this up and i did not regret it so sorry my reblog took forever but its here now lol-

Your eyes flicked briefly to the small bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. It sat there like an accusation, a stark reminder of the restless hours you spent last night. The tossing, the turning, the damp sheets sticking to your skin as you wrestled with the silence that reduced to grant you peace. Im on the edge of my seat i already love your writing so much-

“Did you guys see the news?” okay i love the way that you cut back from both povs so much like uuuggghhh i love the parallels-

Taehyun blinked, his half-asleep face confused as his eyes adjusted to the screen. He stared, his breath catching when he realized what he was watching. He’d never been a fan of gore or horror, and this felt like both—worse, even. The video was chaos: people running, screaming, blood everywhere. Limbs tangled and barely escaping the streets. The sounds of panic—raw, animalistic—clawed at his nerves. He shivered, his voice coming out barely above a whisper. "Is this… a new movie or something?" stttoooooopppp my sweet boy just wishing it was a movie and in disbelief ;-;-;-

Panic flared across his face as he started typing furiously, sending messages to his mom. Where are you? Are you safe? Please reply. His heart pounded with every second of silence that followed. YEONJUN AND HIS MOM WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME ILL SOB-

Hands trembled slightly as he held the phone, fighting the urge to hang up and try calling his mom again. Soobin saw it, his own anxiety spiking so he stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder then taking the phone from his shaky grip. STOP IT THIS HURTS ME SM SSSSTTTOOOP

STAY INDOORS. ANY SIGNS OF WOUNDS, FEVER, OR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR—ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY. I would be shaking so bad omfg-

The bile, bitter taste, nausea kept pushing until your stomach was empty and you felt nothing but raw, aching emptiness. I love this line sm-

Rest, fix yourself, and take a bath.” "Did you just take a bath?" THE PARALLELS AGAIN I LOVE IT

Everything screamed lived in. Floors wooden tiles. It was clean, considering men were living in this place. Some sweaters were carelessly tossed over the couch, an Uno card sat beside it, random orange peels and a few glass mugs were scattered across the table. But aside from that, everything seemed… orderly. Something about this space made you feel out of place. Stop i love how its frozen in a way obviously because they live there but also in so much normality even as the world falls apart-

If anything, it’s comforting to see Soobin still so… Soobin. This is what would fix me in a an apocalypse

Kai gripped Soobin’s hand tighter, his fingers digging in just enough. Soobin looked at him—a silent apology, a promise to do better. Sobs a lot and for a long time-

The sight of you looking troubled, unsettles him for some reason. Then, with no warning, the vehicle comes to a sudden halt, throwing everyone forward. It awakes you, and your eyes snap open, hands reaching for your gun. Okay i love how reader could just kinda sense something was going to happen-

Beomgyu gives a shrug. "Isn’t avoiding them just going to make it worse?" he says, eyes still glued to the decaying figures. "I mean, I would like to be able to look at them without feeling like I’m about to throw up." i love him-

“This is so cool,” The horrors of the night melted away. You smirked, shaking your head as you reached for the first branch, beginning your own ascent. Beomgyu’s gaze stayed on you, his hands hovering slightly as if wanting to help but unsure how. STOP IT I KNOW ITS SMALL BUT LIKE I LOVE THIS SO MUCH like its just them climbing a tree for crying out loud but im giggling and i love him-

His eyes—they were too brown, too soft for a world like this. When the silence stretched too long, he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flushing red. “I… I wanna thank you. For bringing me with you,” he said, shyly. “Thank you, Y/N.” EEEEEKKKK >< i love him stop it stop it stop it stop it

But here you are, and you’re killing it—uh, not literally—well, maybe literally, but—” im so sat for stuttering gyu like no one touch him hes mine-

“Kill it,” you instructed, tilting the infected’s head to expose its temple. His heart pounded as he raised the knife. He brought it down, but his strike lacked strength, and blade only sank halfway in. The infected howled, its hands clawing weakly at the air. “Y/N, I—what do I—” “Again,” you cut him off, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the knife. “Use both hands if you have to. Pull it out and try again. Harder this time.” He did as you said, the knife coming free with a sickening squelch. Blood splattered onto his hands, warm and sticky, and he nearly gagged. Clenching his teeth, he raised the blade again and drove it down with all his strength. The groaning stopped, the infected falling silent. Okay i love this part sm like teaching him and whatnot like there fear there and everything but also his need to do it uuuuggghhh

Tears pricked at his eyes as he wiped his mouth. That infected—it wasn’t just a monster. It had been a person once, a living, breathing human being. Maybe they had a family waiting for them, a home filled with memories, or a life they’d worked hard to build. Maybe they’d been on a vacation or rushing to work the day the world fell apart. MY POOR BOY PLS I LOVE HIM STOP IT-

your hands looked smaller than his, fragile—he wipes the blood on his trembling fingers. How? How could you—manage to do all of this? “You ended its suffering,” you said quietly, hesitant. “That’s how I try to think of it.” “Does it get easier?” “Never.” It was just a single word, but somehow, it felt like a glimpse—Beomgyu feels closer. It felt like he knew you just a little bit better. UGH I LOVE THE ANGST i love this moment so much and him just thinking of how she could be so brave or ill believe it to be that way bc i know he would not judge her and ugh i love it sm-

That boyish smile, dimples and all, made him look so much younger. SOBS

Beomgyu moved before he could think. He didn't know if it was the look in your eyes or the way your hand trembled, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t let you do this. While Seo-jun was distracted by your figure, Beomgyu raised his weapon. Just as you had taught him hours ago, he aimed for the head. SOBS HARDER OMG HER TEACHING HIM TO KILL THEM ONLY FOR HIM TO HAVE TO DO IT NOT EVEN TO SAVE HER PHYSICALLY BUT MENTALLY ;-;-;-;“Why—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the question. “He was your friend,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to let you do that. Not while I’m here.” Friend. That single word shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been holding up. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away with your hand. “He’s not suffering anymore,” Beomgyu added softly, his hand gently brushing the top of your head—you avoided his eyes, yet again. “He’s not suffering,” YOU DID THIS TO HURT ME RAYA PLS NO

He’s smart.” “He is,” Beomgyu agreed, a small smile at his lips as he stirred the contents of his disposable pack. “He’s the calmest one too.” screaming crying

The man holding him inhaled deeply near his hair, a disgusting, exaggerated sniff. “Freshly washed. You’ve got a place nearby, don’t you?” the chill i got stop it i hate it omfg-

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? No fight left in you?” You smirked—just a little. It was enough to confuse him, before he could react, your teeth sank into his throat. Hard. It was a spot right where you knew it would hurt most. A pressure point. His scream ripped through while he stumbled back, clutching at the gaping wound with blood pouring through his fingers. The bitter, metallic taste flooded your mouth, but you didn't stop. You grabbed the gun he dropped as he fell and turned, firing without hesitation. BANG. The man who had taken your gun didn’t even have time to aim before he hit the ground. “Fuck—” one of them snarled, charging at you. Before he could get too close, your foot sweeped his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt. BANG. You aim your gun and pulled the trigger on his face. The man with the bat. Pain exploded in your shoulder, a gunshot tearing through your flesh, but you didn’t flinch. His mistake wasn’t pulling the trigger; it was not aiming for your head like you aimed for his. BANG. The leader gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips as he stared at you in disbelief. “Monster—” he chokes on the floor, his hands futilely gripping his shredded throat. His blood pooled beneath him as he sputtered his last, trying and failing to form a single word. “You—” BANG. i know i put like the whole part nearly but like BUT OMFG I LOVE IT SM i love the walking dead and this refrence of one of my all time fav scenes in the show is just the cherry on top of this fic i GASPED when i read this and was on the floor like the desperation laced in this to save the two of them uuuuuuugggghhh im on the floor i love it so much-

“Look at me!” he shouted, louder this time. Hands cupping your face, trembling as much as yours. “Baby, look at me.” Your eyes darted up, locking onto his. Your tears spilled down your face. BABY- I DIED- and him just wanting to take care of reader stop it no stop it fr-

“Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single thing you’ve done that I couldn’t understand.” The answer caught you off guard, made something in you falter. SOOOOBBBIING TEARS OKAY

“You watch Dora?” “No.” “You just mentioned her.” “She’s famous.” “So am I,” he shot back. “But you didn’t know me before this.” “Are you seriously going to bring that up again?” “Heh.” Beomgyu’s grin only widened. He could almost see it—the tiniest twitch at the corner of your lips before you turned away. Almost. It made his heart flutter in that stupid, uncontrollable way he hated admitting to himself. The way i was giggling i love this so much like the way its just a small thing but at the same time it means so much to me and i love that the reader didnt know who he was and that beomgyu was joking eeekk stop i love it-

He wondered if you’d be any good at FPS games. You were already a menace with a gun in real life, so you’d probably be terrifying in a match. Pls spin off and they are just playing games together pls-

Without giving you time to change your mind, Beomgyu lifted the camera, stepped close, and pressed his cheek against yours. The faint warmth of your skin against his made his stomach flip, but he ignored it, snapping the picture before you could pull away. UUUGGGHH THE MOMENT PLS I LOVE IT-

It was the little things, mostly. The way he insisted you eat first, even when food was scarce. The way he handed you the best parts of the military rations. How he seemed to know when the weight of the barn still lingered in your mind, distracting you with his terrible jokes or a question just long enough to pull you out of it. Or how he’d ask if you’d slept okay, like it mattered in a world where nothing really did. Raya said ‘oh yeah what will hurt cam even if its little what should i add to kill her? Huuummm’ and added this

Strong arms pulled him in, and the dam he’d tried so hard to hold together crumbled. He buried his face into the familiar comfort of Soobin’s shoulder, trying desperately not to sob. He had missed them. They had never left his mind—not once. STOP IT THE SOOBIN AND BEOMGYU BROTHERHOOD SO STRONG I COULD CRY SO MUCH IM SICK-

Restless, you’d found yourself outside his tent, knocking like a ghost haunting its own grave. I love this line-

“It’s… Beomgyu,�� He countered quickly, the way you said another man’s name at this hour unsettling him more than it should. Silence. He braced himself for rejection, for the possibility that you’d tell him to go, that he's insane to be here at this hour, or that you didn’t want to see him. Stop the bit of jealousy stop it stop it stop it-

"Are you mad at me?" Beomgyu's voice wavers, cracking slightly as the words spill out. All those rehearsed lines, the ones he'd turned over in his head a thousand times, crumble into this raw, unpolished question. THE INTIMACY OF JUST SAYING WHAT COMES TO MIND IN THE MOMENT UGH I LOVE THIS SM-

Even if I…” His voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Even if I die trying.” STOP IT PLS STOP IT

"I think I'm in love with you," he says, voice breaking on his confession. "I'm in love with you that I wonder how the hell I lived without you all these years. I’m so glad I met you, did you know that? If I’d known, I’d have counted down the days—even marked my calendar stupidly—just to know you were waiting for me at the end of it. And if I had a choice to go back in time, to stop this apocalypse before it happened, I wouldn’t do a damn thing. Because I’d lose the chance to meet you. Here. As insane as it sounds," His voice shakes, but he pushes on, "I won’t—I won’t force you…. to like me. That’s not what I want. But would it be selfish of me to ask you to stop acting like I'm not here? Like you don’t know me? I can’t…" He hiccups, shoulders shaking. "I just want to be part of your life, Y/N." His words made you take a step forward, your hands trembling as you cup his tear-streaked face. He flinches at first, but then he melts into your touch, his breathing uneven. “I’m afraid,” you admitted, your voice breaking, freckles on his face evident with his face bare. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your life. I'm a fucking ruined person. Can’t you see that?” OH RAYA WANTS ME TO CRY-

“Who would’ve guessed that you’re a crybaby too?” he whispered, his voice uneven but with affection. Sobs sm

Both of you pull back, breaths heavy. A delicate string of saliva still connects your lips, breaking as Beomgyu takes a step forward more, his eyes locked on yours, "I want you." You nod, reaching for him, your fingers curling around his arm to pull him back into you. "We have to be quiet." OH!

“Please kiss me.” He murmurs into your mouth. IM WEAK-

He groaned lightly, shifting closer to you. “I think… we should stay here,” he mumbled, his voice raspy and slow, as though speaking was too much effort. He moved until he was pressed against you, his head resting on your bare chest as he planted soft, sleepy kisses against your skin. “I have things to do, you know,” you protested lightly, though you made no move to stop him. Instead, you let your arms encircle him, cradling his head. His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on the small of your back, familiar against your bare skin. “Wake up,” you poked his cheek with your finger. He parted his lips and let out an exaggerated, snore that startled a laugh out of you. “Idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the fondness in your tone betrayed you. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, Captain Joon is going to start looking for me.” "Let him look," Beomgyu groaned, burying his face deeper into your chest like a stubborn child. No you dont get how much i love this little moment it means sm to me dont evertake it away from me bc ill cry a lot ugly and drowning-

"Can I join you? You know, to save water," He immediately quips. You smirk, your eyes meeting his before you give him a subtle nod. That tiny gesture is all it takes for his heart to race, he’s sure you can hear it. Sobs sobs and sobs again

“Come back to me safely,” he interrupts, his hands cradle your face. His thumbs gently brush your cheeks. “You don’t have a choice.” THE TEARS PLS

The four of them swarm the youngest member, nearly knocking him off his feet in their excitement. Kai’s laughter echoes through the courtyard as Soobin immediately bursts into tears, clinging to him like a lifeline. Beomgyu hugs him tightly, burying his face in his shoulder, while Yeonjun ruffles his hair affectionately. Taehyun, ever practical, starts inspecting Kai’s arms and legs for injuries. They fussed over Kai like he was the most fragile thing in the world, each of them trying to make up for lost time. MY BABY IS BACK EEEEKKKK><

Kai’s grin was blinding, his low ponytail framed his face as he leaned closer to get another look at the photos. “She’s pretty. I’m really happy for you, Beomgyu.” also raya you are so evil long haired kai when im still in mourning over the fact he cut his hair? Evil evil evil evil-

Everyone stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something warm in the way two lovers find each other again. SOOOOOOOBBBBING NOT A DRY EYE

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, okay?” he whispers, "I promise." You know the truth. You’ll never see him again. This is it. “Okay,” you say softly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You’ll never wake up to the sound of his soft breaths against your skin again. You’ll never walk through the Daegu home he often described with so much warmth, never see the place where his happiest memories were made. A place he wants to go with you. WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME YOURE SO MEAN WTF RAYA WTF-

Without a word, he drops to one knee, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your growing belly. “I missed the both of you,” he whispers, voice soft and full of love. Okay you made it up to me all the pain for this thank you i love it sm i love this fic eeeeekkkk ><

“This album is a love letter, a reflection of the most meaningful chapter in my life,” Beomgyu shared. “It’s inspired by the warmth, comfort, and love I’ve found in my marriage. I wanted to capture the feeling of having someone to come home to—a place where your heart feels at peace, no matter what chaos the world throws at you.” also was this a manifestation of beomgyu solo??? And it being titled panic omfg it fits- it fits so well-

THE LAST SAFE PLACE

pairing: idol!beomgyu x fem!soldier reader click here for moodboard

Summary: The world didn’t end with a bang. It ended with a whisper, a deadly virus creeping through the streets, turning the living into something… monstrous.

It was supposed to be a mission. Get in. Get out. Rescue the five a-list boys holed up deep in the city of Seoul. But nothing in this new, broken world is simple anymore.

The dead don’t scare you as much as his starry eyes do—deep brown eyes that make you question if you’re the one who needs saving, after all.

warnings!: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. apocalypse!, survival!, blood!, character!deaths, zombies!, descriptions of!killing, gore!, attempted!sa, menace!reader, anxiety!attacks, signs of!pstd, cursing!, side oc characters, reader has her own last name, pov being switched from reader to beomgyu, mini timeskips, drunk-in-love beomgyu, emotional-baggage, let me know if I missed any! (not proofread, first fic.) smut!warnings: fingering!, oral!fem receiving, missionary, unprotected, slightbody!worship.

wordcount: 30k

notes: Whenever I saw writers call their fic their "baby," I used to wonder what that really felt like. Now here I am, sharing my first-ever fic—my baby—with all of you. It’s far from perfect; I know that. But isn’t that the beauty of writing? I believe we all have room to grow, and so do I.

This fic is inspired by two things I hold dear; Beomgyu (and TXT as a whole) and the idea of finding love in the middle of an apocalypse. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

taglist: I just want to say I love you. thank you for giving this story a chance. @beomiracles @agustdiv1ne @binluvsu @saejinniestar @haowonbins @vampzity @usuallyunlikelyfox @gyu-tori @xodidarks @tubasmiracle @hyunelixbun @woncheecks @lovingbeomgyudayone @beomsdoll @baekberrie @parkweylyn @lun4mizuka @lilbrorufr @no1likemybbgcharlie

Saying the military "protects the nation" always felt like a hollow statement to you—something neat and rehearsed, meant for recruitment ads or patriotic speeches, you came to understand it all too well after years of service. Life is fragile, easily dismissed with a single command, and the concept of disobedience isn’t even an option.

You follow orders, make decisions, and carry out tasks already mapped out for you and your team. The oath you swore binds you to honour whatever higher-ups deem necessary for the greater good, no matter the cost. It matters not, even if it costs your life. That’s how it is.

You've lived like that for as long as you can remember, and sometimes you wonder if it’s that very belief—an unwavering fool—that drove you to become the soldier you are. You know by now that it will also be the very reason for your end someday.

The sound of banging at the door jerks you awake. Your eyes strain in the pitch-black darkness of the barracks. You think you might’ve slept, but it doesn’t feel like it—not really. More like you were just drifting in and out of consciousness, never quite at rest.

"Park. Roll Call." You blinked, scrunching your face. The pounding on the door didn't let up, insistent as ever, making it clear there was no chance of them stopping.

"I'm up." You shouted. The cool floor met your bare feet, and you groggily reached for your shoes tucked neatly underneath. Your eyes flicked briefly to the small bottle of sleeping pills on the bedside table. It sat there like an accusation, a stark reminder of the restless hours you spent last night. The tossing, the turning, the damp sheets sticking to your skin as you wrestled with the silence that refused to grant you peace.

You exhaled, rubbing a hand over your face. The pills—felt like the only option. You stared at the bottle, before grabbing it and slipping it into your bag.

Opening the door, you found yourself face to face with a smirking Do-hyun. "Good morning," he said, tone laced with sarcasm. "Except it’s 2:30 a.m. and we’ve got urgent business. Captain’s called us. Did not say anything about it."

"Must be top secret," you muttered, wincing as the harsh overhead light hit your face. You tried to tame your hair, pulling it into a sloppy ponytail. "C'mon."

You fell into step beside Do-Hyun, the sound of your boots hitting the floor echoing down the empty hallways of the garrison. Your shoulders brushed as you walked, the quiet around you almost unsettling. It was way too early—or maybe too late—for anyone to be this awake.

Seeing a few other soldiers from different units, you saw the same thing: them stumbling into their shoes, eyes half-closed, still caught somewhere between sleep and whatever had pulled them out of bed.

Your boots thudded against the floor with each step. Everyone knows the drill—soon enough, you'd find out what the mission was. Probably something you weren’t supposed to ask too many questions about. Face set in a hard, businesslike expression, you could feel another one coming. Another duty. Another unknown.

"This must be a big one," you muttered, scanning the growing crowd of fighters being herded into place. It was rare to see… this many called out at once. "How many teams are they assembling?"

"I don’t know," Do-Hyun replied with a tired sigh, clearly irritated. "I should be asleep, dreaming about anything other than this, but here we are." Early-morning chaos is the only thing that can get under his skin.

You followed him as he turned left down another corridor. People started staring as you passed—from other squads, lingering on the two of you. They knew. They knew who you were.

Black berets. Special Commands Unit. Infamous. You didn’t need to say it aloud; everyone already knows. The reputation of efficiency, precision, and something else—something darker. Your team never, ever failed. Your team didn’t just complete missions. You annihilated them.

That reputation followed you everywhere. You could still feel the weight of their gazes—some filled with admiration, others with something harder to read, maybe even a little fear. It wasn’t new. You’d felt it for years, people looked at you like you were a hero or a big, bad warning.

You were used to it by now.

When you finally enter into the room where your team usually gathers, the moment your eyes land on the team commander, you and Do-yun both instinctively, snap to attention, "Captain Joon. Park Y/N and Jung Do-yun, reporting."

"At ease. Sit down," Captain Joon responds, tone as calm as ever, looking at you directly as if assessing your state. You lower your salute, glancing around at the rest of your teammates already seated. Looks like you’re the last to arrive.

You make your way to an empty seat, crossing your legs as you also folded your arms, leaning back for comfort. You catch the faintest glance from another one of your teammates, Eun-woo, who raises an eyebrow at you but says nothing.

Captain Joon stands at the front, pacing back and forth, usual self missing. He opens his mouth, then stops, words not coming. He closes it again, staring ahead. It’s strange to see him hesitate like this—it’s not like him at all.

"Alright," he starts, avoiding anyone for eye contact. "We’ve got a new mission. It’s… a lot different than what we usually have." You uncross your arms and lean forward without thinking, drawn on the word "different." There’s something about it—his tone, his hesitation, maybe—that makes your stomach clench.

He continues, "This one’s high-risk. We don’t know exactly what we’re walking to. We’ve got intel, but it’s shaky at best; All I know is there’s a virus spreading. Not like Corona. No, it’s not like that. This one… it turns people into something, not human. They become—" He stops, words hanging in the air. "—they kill.. They attack. And they spread it to others. It’s not confirmed yet, but it will be. Soon."

He doesn’t wait for any further response. "We move out in an hour or two. We will be assigned to a specific mission in the middle of this. Get your gear ready. Dismissed." Six pairs of eyes follow him as he exits, leaving a heavy silence in the room. It's cold. It almost feels unreal—like something out of a movie.

You’d been to other countries, thrown into the thick of it—dealing with terrorists, and a hundred other ways to die. After all the things you’d seen, all the wars you’d fought, the idea of a virus outbreak was not the kind of fight you were used to.

"So, a virus? Like zombies?" Seo-jun’s voice breaks the stillness. He stands up, eyes wide with disbelief.

"It's medically impossible." Beom-seok replied, shaking his head, "Or at least… it should be." he added, almost to himself.

"If it's a virus—then what? How are we, supposed to stop that? A plan on how? Is there going to be a… vaccine? Some cure?"

You stand up, movement so subtle yet enough to make the others still, their attention turning to you. "We’ll figure it out," you say, voice firm. You lean back against the table, crossing your arms, "We always do. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it."

Do-hyun shoots you a look, then nods, his expression unreadable. "Right," he says. "We’ll deal with it."

The words hang in the air, and the newly shut door swings open with a loud noise, making everyone turn. A figure stands in the doorway, breathless. "Did you guys see the news?"

"Did you see the news?"

Yeonjun’s hands were trembling as he shoved his phone into Taehyun’s hands, practically forcing him to look. On the screen was a livestream—a news broadcast, but not the usual kind.

Yeonjun swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the phone as he snatched it back, his fingers quickly tapping away at the screen. "No," he said, voice low, "It’s from.. SBS."

"A drama from SBS?" Taehyun asked, still trying to make sense of what he had just seen.

"No," Yeonjun shook his head quickly. "News live stream. It's been trending. Saw it a couple of minutes ago." Panic flared across his face as he started typing furiously, sending messages to his mom. Where are you? Are you safe? Please reply. His heart pounded with every second of silence that followed.

As the phone screen glowed with his continuous text, the sound of a door creaking open interrupted. Soobin stepped out of the bathroom, checking the two of them that seemed frozen in place. "What happened?" he asked, voice laced with concern.

The question was left unanswered when Yeonjun’s phone suddenly rang. A small spark of relief flaring up in his chest—only for it to fade just as quickly.

It wasn’t from his mom. It's their manager, "Hello?"

Taehyun got up to get his own phone, his movements stiff. Soobin stayed by Yeonjun’s side, eyes flicking between the phone in Yeonjun's hand and his face—filled with anxious expression.

"He’ll speak to you. He wants to," Yeonjun said, meeting Soobin's gaze. His voice was uncertain. Yeonjun did not want to miss out on anything, but the manager had already requested for their leader. Soobin nodded, catching the worry in the latter's eyes. He offered a soft tone, "You can put it on speaker."

"Okay, listen up. I don’t know what’s really happening, but it’s dangerous, very dangerous out there. It’s… people eating people. Do not let anyone leave the house. All five of you. You've just had your groceries dropped, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s—" Yeonjun’s voice cracked, but the manager cut him off.

"Again, I don’t know much. None of us do. We heard the president’s about to announce martial law over this. The military’s locking down the city. You can’t go anywhere. All you need to do is stay inside. Help will come. When they get there, they’ll say my name. You’ll know it’s them." Hands trembled slightly as he held the phone, fighting the urge to hang up and try calling his mom again. Soobin saw it, his own anxiety spiking so he stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Yeonjun’s shoulder then taking the phone from his shaky grip.

"How long do we have to stay here?" Soobin whispered. "What about our families? They’re out there too."

"I don’t know," came the reply, the voice on the other end. "This started in Seoul, based on the news. The military’s setting up safe zones in every city around you. They’ll be protected. But no one can get in or out until things settle. Just… stay inside. I’ll keep you updated when I can-" The line went dead. They stared at the phone, signal bar disappearing completely.

"What are we going to do now?" They heard Kai mutter. He’d stepped out of his room after hearing the commotion. "Hiyyih is out here in Seoul too."

"I don’t have a signal now either," Soobin said, glancing at his own phone, face tightening as soon as he saw missed calls from his dad, his mom, and his sister, brother. He has missed their calls. With a frustrated sigh, he grabbed the TV remote and switched it on, only to be met with a busy signal. The screen flickered, in bold letters, the message appeared:

STAY INDOORS. ANY SIGNS OF WOUNDS, FEVER, OR VIOLENT BEHAVIOR—ISOLATE IMMEDIATELY.

He started flipping through the channels, to see something different. But each station showed the same warning. Taehyun returned, his face heavy with worry. "I got through to my mom, but she was crying too much to say anything. Just told me to stay safe."

Yeonjun was silent. He didn't know what to do, unsure if this was some elaborate prank. Looking around the room, suddenly realised something. "And where the hell is Beomgyu?"

"Sleeping."

A scream pierced the air outside the dorm room, making all of them jump in shock. Kai was the first to react, quickly moving toward the door and peering through the peephole. For a brief moment, there was nothing—just eerie silence. Then, a thump echoed, followed by continuous pounding on the steel door.

"Help!" The voice outside cried, voice hoarse. Shuffling was heard.

"Kai, get here!" Soobin hissed, Kai moved back, frozen in place, gaze still fixed on the door. Slowly, he crossed the room, his footsteps making no sound, cautious as he approached the youngest. He then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back, away from the door. "Stay away from the door,"

Four men stood paralyzed, eyes wide and locked on the door, afraid that it might open, every muscle tense. The door vibrated with each pound from the other side, and the sound of another scream sent a chill down their spines.

Waiting in terrified silence, hoping whatever was outside would stop.

Yeah. They definitely shouldn’t go outside.

It had been seventy-two hours since the government declared the state of emergency.

Seventy-two hours, since the virus outbreak hit the public, and almost everything began to spiral out of control. Your team had been pushed from one task to the next—helping transport, fortifying armoury barricades, trying to keep the city standing. You feel like you couldn't even have time to blink.

Nothing seemed to stand a chance against the speed of the virus.

The radio crackled to life, its voice cutting through the tense silence. "It’s reported that some cases have been found outside of Seoul too."

You swallowed, the water in your canteen suddenly feeling too heavy in your mouth. Your rifle was strapped to your back—knives tucked into your pockets pulled at your clothes, a grim necessity. Your backpack packed with supplies, pulled at your shoulders.

The blood on the streets made your face contort. It wasn’t just the sight of it—it was the knowledge that innocent people, civilians, were the ones who’d ended up here. It was their blood staining the ground, their lives cut short. In just seventy-two hours, this outbreak had become a full-blown mad nightmare. It was real, right here—heavy, like the world had already started to fall apart around you.

"How long?" you asked, trying to shake the unease gnawing at your stomach.

"The report came in an hour ago," came the response. An hour. Sixty minutes. That’s all it took for the virus to spread. An hour, it was no longer just the city.

"There’s still some armory left in this area," Captain Joon says, brushing off the latest intel your team just received. "We need to clear this out, then head back to camp for the next mission."

You slip the water bottle back into the side pocket of your backpack and tilt your head back, stretching out any stiffness. It's been almost twenty-four hours since you last slept.

"Ju-won will come with us."

"The newbie?" Ji-ho raises an eyebrow.

But the thing is, he’s not really a newbie. The military doesn’t just let anyone into the special command unit—you have to be overqualified to even get a chance. People are reacting this way because it’s been years since anyone new has joined. They’re not used to it. The whole thing feels a little odd.

The boy walks forward. You glance at him, and it’s clear right away. The way his body stiffens when he sees seven seasoned soldiers in front of him—he can’t be more than twenty. But, something about the way he carries himself catches your attention. His eyes don’t drop, not even for a second. There’s no sign of hesitation or backing down, even as the rest of you appraise him, silently evaluating his physical presence. It’s almost as if he expects to be here, like he belongs.

He's got guts.

"Captain," he saluted, "Min Ju-won. Sent from Unit Two to provide additional assistance. Engineering."

Captain Joon gave a quick nod, his eyes briefly shifting to you. "Stick with Y/N." Ju-won lowered his salute and jogged over to where you stood.

"We leave in 10 minutes,"

Seo-jun let out a low whistle, looking over Ju-won with a grin. "Well, look what we got here. A kid at the end of the world. What a nice day it is." The sarcasm in his voice hung in the air as he effortlessly adjusted his M4.

"Ignore him. He's a twat," you muttered, clicking your tongue and feigning an attempt to kick Seo-jun's leg for his comment.

Ju-won, just smiled and waved it off, his eyes still locked on you with an almost admiration. "It's alright," he said quickly. "Y/N… then I must be looking at the black beret's most skilled team engineer and sharp-shooter."

"Damn right, she is," Do-Hyun chimed in, grinning as he playfully ruffled your hair. You slapped his hand away, the motion half-hearted but familiar.

The wind howled as the cargo truck went down the rugged road, the engine's hum barely audible over the gusts. Beom-Seok was at the wheel, while Captain Joon sat in the passenger seat, checking the horizon. The other six of you were crammed in the back, weapons ready.

You could feel that someone was watching you. You turned your head to the right, and sure enough, there he was—Ju-won, looking at you with an expression that was oddly calm for a day like this. You chewed absently on the sweet gum in your mouth.

"I’ve always heard your name, even when I was still training," he said almost embarrassed, but there was a hint of respect in his words, "A lot of us admire your skills. We even know your schedule—like when you will drop off at the headquarters."

"Yeah?" You raised an eyebrow, curious but not particularly moved. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

Ju-won grinned, unfazed. "And, of course, your temper is well-known too."

You snorted at that. Of course, it was. You'd made more than one higher-up nearly pass out with your snark and disregard.

Most of them acted like you were supposed to kiss their feet, even though they barely had the skills to back it up—just a good last name and a father in a high place. Lucky bastards. They got used to it—eventually.

Ju-won seemed to pause, thinking for a moment. "I want to be like you."

It caught you off, staring at him, no response from your lips. Who would want to be as miserable? Who in the right mind would? No one should have to carry this kind of burden, no one but you.

"You don’t know anything," you said, right after seconds of silence. "Trust me, you don’t."

Ju-won didn’t seem discouraged by your bluntness. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, "Then maybe I can ask questions to get to know you better?"

"No." You're unsure of where he was going with this.

"Just one then? And if I do well on this mission, I can ask for another one after?" He pumped his fist after your silence, the small gesture that made you want to roll your eyes again.

"How old were you when you joined the military?" His voice was gentle, but his curiosity was clear.

It wasn’t a question people often asked, at least not in the way he asked it. Most were interested in your skills, the missions you’d completed, or the stories you could tell. No one, ever cared much about who you were before all that.

"About seventeen, officially," you replied, the words feeling strange in your mouth. Had it really been that long?

"Woah," Ju-won exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise. "And how long have you been in service?"

You glanced out at the passing landscape, your thoughts briefly drifting to the years that had passed. "Seven years. Counting."

"You're so cool." His gaze flicked to you a few more times, but he didn’t press further.

The only sound in the pitch-black courtyard was the soft shuffle of footsteps against gravel, your team moved cautiously toward the overrun military outpost. It had been more than twenty-four hours since anyone radioed in, and in your line of work, that could only mean one thing.

Defeat. Death. They’re dead.

You gripped the AR-15 in your hands, its weight and feel as familiar as your own skin. Your eyes stayed locked ahead, scanning the shadows, the captain just a few steps in front of you. You could feel Ju-won’s breath on your back.

"Hold." The captain's voice barely rose above a whisper, but you caught it—sharp and commanding. His hand went up in a familiar gesture, signaling. Eun-woo and Ji-ho moved, splitting off to cover the blind spots—each one wary of possible exits or hidden threats.

The minutes stretched on, almost suffocating. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, when faintly, a soft whistle.

A go signal. Finally.

The captain’s eyes flicked to you. Without words, he surged forward, and you followed, close, moving deeper into where the map was marked.

With Eun-woo and Ji-ho still posted at the entrance of the courtyard, and Beom-seok at the Cargo Truck to secure on the road, the remaining five of you moved carefully toward the building’s entrance.

Seo-jun reached for the rail handle and pulled it. It was a split-second decision, but he made the mistake of opening it too wide, too fast. The sound was deafening in the silence—a loud scrape of metal against metal. It was the darkness. Or maybe it was the way no one had heard anything.

The infected—so many of them—started to emerge from the inside, their eyes hungry, limbs jerking unnaturally as they snarled and gnawed at the space where you stood.

"Shut it off!" was yelled, but it was too late. Seo-jun tried desperately to pull the door, but the dead were already pushing their way through, toppling the door with brutal force. No stopping them now.

The growls, their gurgling moans, flooded. You took a step back, when you noticed the next wave of infected closing in from both sides—right and left. The courtyard was becoming a death trap.

“Guns!” Captain Joon barked, voice sharp and urgent. He raised his rifle, opening fire on the approaching dead, and you followed. You didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. You aimed at the nearest infected, firing with the precision you’d drilled into your muscle memory. Beside you, you felt Ju-won moving, his shots echoing through the chaos.

You kicked one of the infected coming too close toward you—hard. The sickening crack of its skull as it spun from the impact of your boots almost drowned out the growls, relief was fleeting—another wave was already pushing through.

"Move!" you shouted to Ju-won, grabbing him by the shoulder and shoving him to the right side, where it seemed there was a slight gap in the swarm. You followed, not letting up on your fire. Each shot to the head was methodical, each kill necessary for survival.

You kept repeating it in your head—headshots. Headshots, or they don’t die.

Through the haze of gunfire and screams, you spotted Do-hyun on the opposite side, surrounded but still fighting, his rifle a blur as he tried to hold the line.

"Captain!" you shouted, your voice rising over, as you saw the widening gap between your team. You continued firing, shots ringing out, each one a desperate attempt to keep the tide of the dead at bay. You grabbed the arm of an infected that crept up from behind, pulling it sidewards with all your strength. The thing flailed, but you kicked its legs out from under it, slamming its head down with a close shot. Blood splattering on your track pants.

Another bullet whizzed past you, too close, and you turned to meet Ju-won’s eyes. There was no time for words. He’d just taken down one of the infected that had come up behind you.

Minutes passed, but it felt like hours. The gunfire echoed in your ears, drowning out everything else. Then, you heard it—Seo-jun’s voice cutting through the noise.

"Captain. Orders!"

It was a soldier’s instinct, that need for direction even in the face of death. It was what you were trained to do, what you had to do.

"Fall back." His command came. The words you’d been waiting for. You began to step back, scanning the darkened courtyard. And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get worse, you saw it—a wave of infected flooding out from the building. Your eyes locked on one of them, a child, no more than twelve, wearing a middle school uniform.

No. No time to mourn, no time to think. You shake it off, turn your attention back to Ju-won, who was already falling back as well.

You ran, but it was a futile attempt. The middle part of the courtyard, the one that had been empty moments ago, was now swarming with infected.

“Go forward!” Captain Joon’s shouted again.

The sound of gunfire, the screams, the snarls—they were all blending together now. You saw Eun-woo and Ji-ho still at the entrance of the courtyard, firing relentlessly. But there were too many. It had to be the sound of all the gunfire—had to be why they were flooding in from the other buildings now.

You couldn’t run without firing. The infected were, too close for comfort.

“Ahhh!”

Ju-won’s scream tore through the noise, and you whipped your head to the side. You saw him—surrounded by four, maybe five infected. Their gnarled hands reaching for him.

You sprinted forward, the gun dropped in an instant. You reached the closest infected, grabbing its hair and yanking its head back with force. The knife you’d pulled was a flash of silver in the darkness, and you slashed it across its throat, the blade biting into the flesh with a wet sound.

You couldn’t fire. Not with Ju-won so close to them.

You felt Do-hyun and Seo-jun near you now, forming a small circle, keeping the infected at bay while you worked to free Ju-won. One by one, you killed the infected around him within seconds. But when the last one finally dropped, you froze for the first time tonight.

There's a wound. The bite. A deep, angry stash on Ju-won’s neck, blood spilling down his chest, soaking through and colouring his shirt. Your heart stopped.

"Y/N…" His voice was weak. Too weak.

"Come on," you said, trying to drag him to his feet. The others were silent, at the sight.

"Help me!" you shouted, the panic finally breaking through as the infected kept coming. "What the fuck are you staring at? Help me!"

Do-hyun snapped out of his thoughts and rushed to help. He moved to slide his arm under the left side, but before he could get a firm grip, Ju-won's hand shot out, pushing him away.

"Leave me."

"No. Come on."

“Just leave me, Y/N.” he whispered again, "I know I can't be helped."

“I’m not having this conversation—”

“It hurts!” Ju-won suddenly shouted, pain in his voice. His lips were turning blue, face pale, eyes glassy with tears. “It hurts so much. I—I want this to just end. End it. Please. I'm begging you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. He started crying, Min Ju-won.

“Y/N?” Do-hyun’s voice broke through, gunshots ringing, “Decide now.” Seo-jun’s voice was distant, more gunfire ringing out, words clear. He was asking you to make a choice.

"Shh, It’s going to be okay," you murmured, wiping his tears away, "Everything’s going to be okay." You pushed the sweat-damp strands of hair from his forehead, fingers brushing against his cold skin. “You’ll be alright.”

Min Ju-won.

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” You leaned in close, feeling his weak attempt to smile on your neck, breath coming out in ragged gasps when he felt you pressed your knife to the back of his head. “It’s okay, Ju-won.”

Making sure to do it quickly, you didn’t want him to suffer—not even for a second. He stilled, and then there was a quiet exhale against your skin. His last breath.

Arms went limp in your embrace.

Min Ju-won.

You stare at your hands, blood too much, not yours, too obvious to wipe away. The vehicle lurches forward, but nothing about this mission feels like it’s worth it. No weapons recovered. And one less soldier with you.

You ignore the stares of your teammates, the silent questions they’re too scared to ask. Even when your captain demands what happened, you can’t find the words.

Death isn’t new to you.

You’ve seen it, lived with it, had to pull the trigger more times than you care to admit. Had to deal with it more times than you'd care to count. But this… this is different. There’s a heaviness in your throat that won’t lift—can still feel him, still hear his laboured breath as you hold him in your arms.

The dog tags in your hand are cold against your palm. They’re not yours. There were too many of them. The infected.

No one could even bring his body back.

"We're here," Eun-woo says, the vehicle finally pulls to a stop at your temporary camp. He'd been staring out the window for the entire ride, lost in thought, barely noticing the road or time. You don’t wait for anyone to open get out. You push yourself out, body stiff and eyes burning, but you do your best not to let anyone see. You try to blink away the moisture, to keep it together. You can’t. You won’t.

“Y/N, I—” Seo-jun starts, his voice hesitant, reaching for you.

"Save it." you snap, harshly, not letting him finish his sentence. He falters at your glare, watching turn and walk straight for the barracks, not even sparing a second glance in his direction.

Your body, with blood, not yours, and the dog tag around your hands swaying with every step.

"Give her space. She did it herself. Again." Do-hyun’s voice is softer, almost reluctant, as he watches you retreat. His eyes follow you, lost in thought.

Maybe it’s because you’re a woman and they’re all men, or maybe because you’ve always been the youngest, they've known you since you were much younger. Or maybe it’s the fact that they’ve never seen you crack, never once seen you break down when they all have at one point or another. After all these years, when they themselves had crumbled, you always seemed to keep it together. You always did. First... they admired how strong you were—physically, emotionally, mentally—and even envied it at times but as time went on, they started to realise something.

The empty look in your eyes—it's haunting. They all knew what you did for them, what you'd sacrificed.

Ji-ho pats Seo-jun’s shoulder, his face mixed with understanding and exhaustion. He points his head toward the door, a silent suggestion to let you have your space.

You stepped inside the massive military tent, the hum of conversations halting as everyone’s gaze turned toward you. You noticed someone even take a hesitant step back, eyes widening.

"I'm not fucking bitten," You didn't pause to explain further. You couldn’t. Instead, you kept walking, ignoring the stares, the whispers that you could practically feel on your skin. You didn't care, walking past the soldiers, the stares heavy on your back. You made your way to your assigned makeshift door, pulling it open and stepping inside.

The small room felt like the only place you could breathe. The bathroom was the next thing you could think of.

Once inside, you slumped onto the cold, unforgiving floor. Your face landed near the toilet, and before you brace yourself, your stomach churned. The contents from your day—what little you had managed to eat—came up violently. It kept going, feeling your body betray you as your throat burned, as your muscles contracted in spasms. The bile, bitter taste, nausea kept pushing until your stomach was empty and you felt nothing but raw, aching emptiness.

You dry your mouth with the back of your filthy hand, smell of blood still lingering in your nostrils. The memory of it—of what you'd seen, what you just did—threatened to send you over the edge again. You fought the urge to gag.

You knew it wasn’t something Seo-jun should be explaining for. He called you earlier, sounding like he wanted to apologize, wanted to make sure you were okay. But you didn’t want to tell him everything was fine. Because it wasn’t. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what was waiting for you inside that damned place. He didn’t know the hundreds of the dead you'd have to face. He tried his best too, just like you did. But none of that mattered.

Killing is easy. You had convinced yourself that—it was something you could do without blinking now. Maybe you could even kill with the same ease as walking a dog in the park, that it could become second nature.

You killed someone who had just started to make you wonder—what question they would be asking you after the mission. Something small, something so... human. With your own hands. No real reason. No justification. For the sake of getting equipment. You killed him.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

With effort, you flushed the toilet, then let your body slide back to the nearest wall. Once it was done, you let yourself slump back against the nearest wall, Your fingers digging into your face as if you could erase the last few hours just by pressing hard enough. Sweat, cold and clammy, trickled down your forehead.

"Y/N," came a voice from outside the door.

Captain Joon. You didn't respond. You didn’t even move. "Rest," he said, his voice softer than usual, "You're needed for another mission after a couple of hours. Rest, fix yourself, and take a bath."

"Did you just take a bath?" Taehyun asked, seeing Beomgyu’s damp hair, towel draped around his neck, few droplets of water still clinging to his skin.

Beomgyu nodded, not even looking up from the crackers he was munching on.

"Again?"

"You got a problem with that?" Beomgyu’s house slipper flew through the air toward Taehyun’s. It was effortlesly dodged.

"Why are you taking a bath three times a day?"

Beomgyu shrugged, gaze finally lifting to meet Taehyun's. "There's nothing else to do,"

Taehyun paused, small ache in his chest upon the words. Being an idol, he knew well the activities—packed schedules, comebacks, fan events, concerts. It never stopped. Hell, he could not even remember the last time he’d celebrated his birthday with his family.

Beomgyu exhaled sharply, "It's been four days… You think our families are okay out there?"

Every day now was a reminder—waking up to the reality of the virus outbreak, everything at a stop.

"They should be," Taehyun replied, though he didn’t feel as sure as he sounded. "We're the ones stuck here."

Beomgyu didn’t answer, instead shuffling his trash away. Just then, Kai appeared from the bathroom, face slack with disappointment.

"Guys, the water’s stopped."

Yeonjun jumped from his seat, rushing to check the sinks, only to find no water coming out. "Shit."

Beomgyu bit his lip, frustration bubbling inside him. Just when things couldn’t seem to get worse. The isolation, the fear—it was all becoming too much now. It's growing every day. He stood up, ignoring Soobin’s frantic voice as he tried to save whatever little water they had left.

He shut himself in his room, the door clicking softly behind him. His eyes wandered to the small house model his family had made for him—a little reminder of home, something he would look at whenever he needed to feel close to them. He collapsed onto his unmade bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling, his thoughts made up mix of thoughts and scenarios. Maybe there was a miracle out there—something, anything, to change this.

Minutes passed in silence before Beomgyu’s voice broke the stillness. "I hope there’s an angel out there. Someone who’ll come get us… get me. Out here, to a safe place." His heart thudded painfully in his chest—he knew no one would ever hear those words, but he couldn’t help but hope.

You slowly make your way toward the apartment complex, the team had decided to move under the cover of darkness again—it drew fewer infected and lowered the chances of running into trouble. At least that’s what your team hoped for.

The freshly laundered combat uniform felt like it was made for you. The black fabric, almost matte, clung to your body, moving with you as if it were a second skin. Your boots, worn but sturdy, held you grounded. Each step was sure. They gave you that solid grip. On your hips, the twin knives sat, steel blades catching the light with a faint, almost imperceptible gleam. Your hair was pulled back, tight in a high knot. Not a strand is out of place.

The mission was clear: rescue the five A-list boys trapped in this building, ever since the outbreak began.

Hybe, was the one who went to the military for help. They couldn’t exactly say no to them—so here you are, walking into a situation you can’t quite predict.

Six of you, without Beom-seok to secure the vehicle on the road as usual—all armed and ready, step closer to the entrance of the block—though you spot a few infected lingering around, they’re silently dealt with. A knife to the head, no noise, no struggle—just clean and quick.

Your captain’s biggest worry is the location. The middle of the city. So many people in such a small space can only mean one thing—too many infected. It’s a risk, but it’s the job. That is exactly why these people are stuck here in the first place. No help has been able to get through until your team was sent in.

"It's here," Eun-woo says, pointing toward the stairs in the corner. He folds the marked map and tucks it away. Captain Joon nods, "One by one. Be aware of your surroundings."

Everyone gives a tight nod, moving quickly to follow his instructions. You scanned every corner, every shadow. You don’t miss a thing. There are a few infected nearby, but they have not noticed you. So long as they don’t see or hear, and you’re far enough, you’ll be fine.

Earlier, it was also clear that most of the infected in this area are concentrated in the outer courtyard. It looks like the people who lived here panicked, tried to escape out there, drawing all the infected away from the apartment complex itself. It’s eerily quiet now, almost too quiet.

You reach the door to apartment 304, and the rest of your team spreads out, covering all sides of the hallway. You catch your breath, scanning both directions again, alert to any movement. Someone begins to knock on the door. Minutes tick by, but there’s no answer.

"Are they fucking asleep?" Ji-ho whispers, his voice sharp with impatience.

"What do you expect?" you snap,"You think they’re awake at this hour, just waiting for us to show up?" The words feel bitter, but you don’t care. "Move,"

Before you can even make a move toward the door, a voice breaks the silence. It's soft, hesitant, almost as if the person speaking is scared to even let the words out.

"Who’re you?"

Kai had been just about to head to the bathroom for a quick piss when he heard it—an soft rattle against the door.

It’s been days, days, since there was any sound from the other side. Complete silence. So hearing something now, especially in the dead of night, made his blood run cold.

Someone’s trying to break in?

He freezes, mind racing. Slowly, he walks towards the door, arms out in front of him, keeping a little distance like it might somehow help. His breath is shallow as he inches closer to the small peephole in the door, just enough to get a glimpse.

Soobin made him promise not to go near the door, but he won’t know. He’s asleep, anyway.

There are people out there. No, not just people—soldiers? At least three men and a woman, he's not really sure, but they're standing and staring straight at their door. He can’t make out their words, sound too muffled, but he can tell they’re muttering something under their breath, heads tilted as if they’re listening too.

Woah. She’s… really pretty.

Kai immediately shakes his head. Focus. Now is not the time to be thinking about how pretty she is. She’s out there, trying to break the door down. Or… is she?

What if they’re the ones sent to rescue us?

He squints through the crack in the door again, taking in the soldiers’ uniforms. They’re military. That has to mean something—and waking the others would take too long. He swallows hard, asking the question.

"Who’re you?"

"Open the door," Captain Joon says, his voice firm and immediate. "We've come to help you." There’s no reply from the other side.

"Manager Jisoo. Hybe."

There’s a sound of the lock turning, and the door creaks open just a crack. It’s dim inside. The air inside hits you. Smells faintly of candles—probably because there’s no electricity to rely on anymore. One by one, everyone got ready to move inside. You turned your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the person who had opened it.

He looked young—his skin pale and features sharp, with a foreign look. His bangs messily hung over his eyes, longer than he probably intended. Your eyes met his, and just as quickly, he looked away. Great. You all must have really scared him—heavily armed, arriving at his dorm in the dead of night.

"We're all coming in, Son," Captain Joon said, gaze flicking to the boy’s face, silently asking for permission—though he did not really need it. You were here to rescue them, to bring everyone back. Whether they were ready or not, you were going in. "What's your name?"

He nodded and opened the door wider. "Heuningkai. Kai is fine."

"How many of you are still in here?"

"Five. Uh, I’ll need to wake everyone up first."

"Go on." You took in the space they had been holed up in. Everything screamed lived in. Floors wooden tiles. It was clean, considering men were living in this place. Some sweaters were carelessly tossed over the couch, an Uno card sat beside it, random orange peels and a few glass mugs were scattered across the table. But aside from that, everything seemed… orderly. Something about this space made you feel out of place.

"Could you please wait here?" Kai stopped after taking a few steps away from your team. The front door shut behind. You glanced at him as he spoke, and you saw it—his face.

It was almost like he was afraid that if he turned around, everyone would just... leave.

He didn’t give anyone a chance to respond. Without another word, he turned and headed for the nearest door. You took in the hallway—six doors in total. One of them was probably the bathroom, and the rest, you guessed, must be their rooms.

Kai walks in, still feeling the embarrassment creeping up his neck. He did not mean to pout or sound so desperate in front of everyone—it just kind of happened.

The whole outbreak had him on edge all the time. It wasn’t like him at all. But now, for the first time in a while, he's starting to see hope. And with that came a fear he hadn’t expected.

He shuts the door behind him, eyes flick to Soobin, who’s sprawled out on the bed in his usual weird sleeping position. One arm thrown over his face, legs tangled in the sheets like he’s trying to escape them.

If anything, it’s comforting to see Soobin still so… Soobin.

"Wake up," Kai says, giving Soobin’s arm a little shake. There’s no response. "Soobin,"

He just mumbles something unintelligible and stays still. With a sigh, Kai slaps the flesh of Soobin's thigh—a trick he’s learned always works when he's in deep sleep.

"Shi—Kai?" The latter groans, blinking his eyes open. He winces slightly, almost about to curse, but then he notices the younger one standing there, looking a little shaken, and his protective instinct kicks in. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"They’re here. They—the help. They’re outside. I let them in." The older man shot up, his mind struggling to shake off the remnants of sleep. For days, he'd been waiting for this moment, but now that it was here, he could hardly believe it.

Soobin looked at Kai’s face, searching for any sign of bluffness. None.

"Wake everyone up, Kai. I’ll, I'll talk to them. Good job," he said, his voice thick with a mix of urgency and something else—nervousness, maybe. He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to steady his racing heart.

The younger gave a quick nod, already rising to carry out the task.

Soobin hesitated for a moment, then followed, his feet heavier than usual. When he stepped out of his room, the sight hit him. Soldiers.

All dressed in black, standing almost stiffly in the cramped living room, as if they did not know where to place themselves, presence filling every corner. They looked out of place—one man was sitting, looking collected. He was much older—maybe in his late 40s—and when he saw Soobin, he stood up too, moving with authority.

"Hello," Soobin said, bowing deeply. He wished his voice to be normal, but it cracked. His eyes stung, and he blinked, trying to hold back the tears likely to spill. These people—they look so capable.

How desperately he’d needed them.

"I know it's late, but we need to move now. It’ll make things easier for us," Captain Joon started.

Everyone had gathered in the living room now—eleven people, all listening. A large map was spread out on the table in front of them, marked with lines and notes. "We’ve got a cargo truck on standby, and someone guarding it. Waiting for us,"

You leaned against the wall at the back, trying to stay out of the way. Your long gun resting to your right side. You crossed your arms, observing them all, taking in the scene. These five—when they first arrived, you’d seen it clearly: that fleeting, unguarded emotion that flashed across their faces. Relief? Fear?

Your thoughts drifted for a moment, the hum of voices fading, when suddenly you caught something. One of them was looking at you. You met his gaze, and for a second, neither of you moved. His eyes were a soft brown, almost warm, framed by dark hair that was swept back but still fell messily across his forehead. His jaw was sharp, yet there was something almost delicate about it. Something… soft.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just a slight challenge, and he blinked, startled. He bowed his head in your direction awkwardly—before you could return it, his eyes darted away quickly. Followed by a deep shade of red that crept into the tips of his ears.

He didn’t look back at you again—as though he couldn’t look at you a second longer.

Little did you know, when you weren’t paying attention, his eyes would steal a few more glances in your direction, each one shorter, but no less curious.

"We'll travel this way, and you all will be dropped off here at this camp, as requested. Understand?"

"And, we can just bring a backpack each?" Soobin asks, looking around the group. He’d introduced himself as the leader earlier.

"That doesn't mean you can just throw anything in there," you replied, finally speaking up, giving your first words tonight. "Keep it light. Only pack what you really need." Captain Joon gave a slight nod, acknowledging your point.

"Got it,"

"While we're at it," Captain Joon continued, “since we’ll be traveling together, it’s probably best you get to know the people you’ll be with. Just in case something goes wrong.” The mention of anything happening seemed to linger in the air. The five of them had never seen an infected before. You all know that can cause problems.

"As you probably already know, I'm the Captain of this team," Joon said, he shot a quick glance at you before going on.

"Park Y/N," he nodded in your direction, "our engineer sergeant. She’s the one who builds stuff, blows stuff up—whatever needs doing, really. She's my second-in-command."

Beomgyu has a valid reason to look at you now. And when he thought he never be more mesmerized, somehow, he was.

Earlier, when he first stumbled out of bed and woken by Kai, he wandered into the living room, still half-dazed. He was caught off guard on how… beautiful you were. He’d seen soldiers, sure, but you? You were different. You looked like you belonged on a magazine cover—not out here, in the middle of a hellscape.

How are you, not a celebrity? he wonders, half-wanting to slap himself. How are you so beautiful, standing here, in the middle of this nightmare? The strangest thing, though, was the pull in his chest—even though he’d only just learned your name. Even your name—sounds pretty.

"Do-hyun," Joon said, pointing to a man near you, "he's in charge of our comms—makes sure we stay connected. Keeps the radios running, that sort of thing." Do-hyun gave a lazy salute, a smirk playing on his lips.

"That’s Eun-woo and Ji-ho," Joon went on, pointing to two others standing with confidence. "They’re our weapons experts—know every damn thing about fixing, maintaining, and using all our weapons. They also take inventory, make sure we’re stocked up when we need to move out."

"And then there's Seo-jun," Joon said, nodding toward a tall, figure standing slightly apart from the rest like you. "Does the planning, the strategizing. And last but not least, Beom-seok. He’s the one left behind—our medic.”

"You can pack now. We'll wait here. We’ve got food rations on the truck, so you can eat there." Captain Joon finally ends the conversation.

The five of them stand up and start making their way to their rooms.

Beomgyu exhales a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. The air feels lighter as he steps into his room. They're finally getting out here.

He stands in front of his closet for a few seconds, unsure of what to grab first. He picks up his backpack and starts shuffling through his things—some clothes, and his hygiene kit that Taehyun had already packed for him. He opens his drawer and realizes he’ll need to change out of his pajamas. A plain shirt, some cargo pants, his jacket… and where the hell are his boots? Before he can finish, he hears the door creak open.

"Beomgyu," Yeonjun’s says. "That chick’s really cute."

Beomgyu freezes, his hand mid-reach for his shoes. He blinks and turns to face Yeonjun. "Have you packed your stuff, or do you think we’ve got all the time in the world?"

Yeonjun raises an eyebrow, looking slightly taken aback. "Geez, chill. Why are you being so mad?"

Beomgyu hesitates. He doesn’t really know. It could be the way Yeonjun had interrupted his packing, or maybe… maybe it’s because Yeonjun’s casually saying something like that. Beomgyu feels something twist in his stomach.

Yeonjun thinks you’re pretty. He doesn’t know how to deal with that.

"'M sorry,"

Yeonjun watches him closely. "Was it because of what I said—"

"No."

A knock sounds on the door. Both of them turn toward it. Eun-woo peeks his head inside, his expression casual. "We're just waiting for the two of you, and then we're off."

"Let's go,"

The only sound is the steady rhythm of feet against the ground. Your team is spread out, moving in a loose pattern. Captain Joon, Seo-jun, and Ji-ho take the lead, scanning the surroundings. Soobin and Kai walk close behind, hand in hand. Taehyun and Beomgyu follow next, then Yeonjun.

You, along with Do-hyun and Eun-woo, bring up the rear. It’s all going smoothly. You’re alert, watching the others, everything seems calm—until you notice Yeonjun. He’s suddenly still, his body frozen in place. You glance over and follow his line of sight.

In the open space ahead, a small group of infected wander aimlessly. Movements are jerky, unnatural, and the growls that escape their throats are low and guttural. One of them is lying on the ground, its torso half severed, intestine out, but its arms are still twitching, dragging itself forward in a grotesque imitation of life.

Yeonjun’s breathing stops entirely, his chest barely rising and falling. He’s staring at them, wide-eyed, body tense. You step up and place a hand on his shoulder. The touch makes him flinch.

"Shhh," you whisper, barely audible. The last thing you need right now is anyone making noise. One sound, one slip-up, and the infected will be on you. "Move. Eyes front—Don't… do not look at them."

He does not respond at first, you’re not even sure if he’s even hearing you. His eyes check the infected again, then back to the ground. He swallows. Finally, he nods, voice tight, "Yeah."

You give him a push on the back, enough to get him moving. It was a relief to see Yeonjun walking. You exhaled slowly, locking eyes with Do-hyun. He'd seen it all. That look between you two was enough to say it all: they weren’t ready for this. They hadn’t been told nearly enough.

Everyone kept walking, the building’s echoing silence wrapping around you as you neared the first level. It wasn’t far now—just out the main door, across the block, and then Beom-seok would be waiting for you on the road. The end was in sight.

"Shit!" Soobin’s voice is loud, his hands pressed against his chest in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. A woman, infected, eyes wide open, slumped lifelessly in a chair in the lobby. Her body was barely recognizable, rotting, the decay setting in.

No one moved. You spun around, doubt kicking in, scanning the lobby for any movement. Kai gripped Soobin’s hand tighter, his fingers digging in just enough. Soobin looked at him—a silent apology, a promise to do better.

It was only a minute, before Captain Joon finally moved. You stepped out of the building, the fresh air hitting you in a way that almost felt too good. The five newcomers, still adjusting to the chaos, kept their gazes fixed ahead, careful not to glance at the herd gathering in the open space nearby.

Then you saw him—Beom-seok. Leaning against the tires on the road, his eyes sweeping the distance, waiting. "Took you long enough," Beom-seok mutters, his eyes looking at you as he watches you approach.

One by one, everyone began climbing into the truck. Ji-ho caught your eye, giving you a quick signal to get in.

"Yeah? Are you bored or something?" Seo-jun shoots back, his tone teasing.

You gripped Ji-ho's hand, pulling yourself up the tall cargo bed. You paused, glancing down at Taehyun and offering your hand. He grasped it firmly, and with one smooth pull, you helped him up. He meets your gaze and gives a nod, a thank you.

Beomgyu was next, and Ji-ho was beside you, helping Yeonjun up. Kai and Soobin were already settled inside chatting quietly, and the truck was starting to feel a little more like a secure place.

You let your hand fall, but it only took a second for Beomgyu to extend his own.

Soft. Warm. It feels different somehow.

Beomgyu feels your hand—still shielded by your tactical gloves, but with the fingertips exposed. Even through the fabric, he can feel the warmth of your skin. It’s subtle, and for some reason, it’s enough to make his heart beat a little faster. You gripped his hand, pulling him up with the same ease as you did with Taehyun.

He’s finally out—the one they’d been stuck in, waiting, starving. Water was running low, food was practically gone and no electricity. It’s been days. Time blurred together in there. He’d tried his hardest not to let his emotions spill over, even when his mind kept replaying all the times he’d imagined getting out. All the moments he’d prayed for this. And now, it’s real.

He's here.

"Thank you," Beomgyu whispers, he hopes that somehow, those two words are enough for you to know.

"Sure,"

Beomgyu smiles wider as the fresh scent of grass hits his face. It’s a smell he never thought he’d miss, now it feels like a luxury—something he never realized how much he took for granted until now.

He turns his head to look at you, he feels his heart settle. Your head slightly leaned back against the rail, eyes closed in peaceful sleep. He fights the urge to nudge the soldier sitting next to you and tell him to move so you can rest your head somewhere more comfortable. He notices a shift in your face. Your brows furrow—a small frown begins to start on your forehead. Beomgyu's smile fade. The sight of you looking troubled, unsettles him for some reason.

Then, with no warning, the vehicle comes to a sudden halt, throwing everyone forward. It awakes you, and your eyes snap open, hands reaching for your gun.

"What now?" Eun-woo asks, stepping toward the window that connects to the driver's area, his voice tight with concern. You follow his gaze and your stomach drops. A fire. A huge fire, raging up ahead. And it looks like it's right where your team was supposed to drop off.

Yeonjun holds his nose at the smell of burning, smoke.

"Didn’t you radio them, Do-hyun?"

"I did, before we started heading back, Captain," You start mentally counting the minutes—five people eating, the time it took to pack up, and the drive back. It couldn’t have been more than two hours.

Two hours, and the fire’s already this big. "What happens now?" You hear Kai ask himself.

You don't have to look for long to spot them. Infected. They’re coming toward your truck—more than you can count. A mass of tumbling bodies, moving fast.

"Captain!" you shout, your voice sharp. "They are coming. Too many of them." Your words startle everyone in the truck.

Beom-seok’s hands twitch on the steering wheel, nerves on edge as he maneuvers the truck. His mind races, unsure of the next move. Where the hell should we go?

"Head for the nearest camp," Captain Joon orders, "Do-hyun, can you get through to them?"

"I'm trying," Do-hyun responds, fingers moving over the radio—silence greets him in return. The truck moves, and all of you watch the infected, filling the road behind.

Beomgyu watches the infected, slow, stumbling figures moving toward the vehicle. He knows they wont catch up—he knows they cant outrun it—still, his stomach churns.

"Are you okay?" Soobin asks, voice soft. He saw Beomgyu’s face when he locked eyes with the dead. "Try not to look at them," he suggests. It’s what Soobin does—keep his eyes away.

Soobin sighs, "We are getting out of here. Hybe did not let these people get us just to leave us hanging. There’s gotta be a place somewhere. Maybe we’ll even be able to go home, see our families again."

Beomgyu’s throat tightens at the mention of family, he swallows the feeling down. "What if we don’t, though?" he murmurs, "You saw the fire at the camp we were supposed to be at. Do you really think we’d have made it out? If we got there earlier…. do your really think we would have survived?"

Soobin’s heart clench at the question, he can't bring himself to answer. He does not want to think about it, but he knows Beomgyu’s right. Everything had seemed okay—until that overrun camp. The silence stretches, loud with unspoken fears.

Beomgyu’s hand starts picking at his nails, his gaze unfocused. "What if there’s no safe place left?" His voice cracks,trying his hardest not to think about his family.

"Stop." It’s you. You had been close enough to hear their whispers. "I’ll let you know if there’s no place anymore. Until I do, don’t think about it."

Beomgyu looks up at you, meeting your eyes for a moment. And just like that, the heaviness inside him lifts—just a little.

The vehicle comes to a halt by the side of the road, dust kicking up as the engine sputters off. Captain Joon looks ahead, eyes narrowing at the said camp he has in mind. It’s about a ten-minute walk from here.

"Still no response, Captain," Do-hyun reports, his fingers pressing anxiously on the radio. "Should I try reaching out to other units? They're farther out, but I can give it a shot."

Captain Joon does not look at him, eyes fixed ahead. "You can do that later. For now, we need to check this site first." He pauses, "It’s not wise for all of us to go. These five civilians stay here with a couple of you, the rest of us will move out."

Beomgyu catches the glint of your fingers as you reach for your gun, checking the magazine, clicking it back and then tightening your boot laces. There's no need for more words. The message is clear. You're going out, you're checking the place. You’re not going to sit around and wait.

"Y/N," Captain Joon calls out as you start climbing down from the cargo bed.

“I’m going with you,” you say, already strapping your gun across your shoulder. Without waiting for a response, you take a few long strides,, scanning the fields around you. The tall grass sways gently in the breeze. A few of the soldiers start following suit—Eun-woo, Ji-ho, and you catch the sound of their boots as they move behind you.

Captain Joon strides past, and you follow him, your boots crunching against the dry earth.

Beomgyu watches, his eyes never leaving your form as you move further into the distance. He can hear Yeonjun’s sigh beside him, but it did not make him look away. Instead, he counts under his breath, doing everything he can to keep you in sight until you’re too far to see.

The truck was quiet, the minutes stretching on as the remaining soldiers outside paced back and forth, keeping watch.

“I’m worried about Hiyyih,” Kai said suddenly, breaking the silence. His words drew the attention of the older guys around him, all seated close by.

“Do you think she got rescued too?” Kai asked, voice quieter now. “Or maybe…she made it out to Seoul when everything went like this?”

Taehyun reached over, giving the youngest's head a soft pat. “She is okay, Kai,” he said, “Once we get to the camp, we can ask the Captain,”

“Yeah,”

“Stop stressing about it, though,” Yeonjun chimed in, “We will figure it out soon enough.” Soobin stayed quiet, gaze fixed on some distant thought.

“They’re back,” Beomgyu said, his gaze darting between the road and the distant figures coming into view. He kept watching, squinting to make out their shapes as they got closer. Minutes passed, and the faces became clear: Captain Joon, two other soldiers… and you.

“They’re fewer than we expected,” Captain Joon announced as he reached the group, his voice steady but grim. “The camp’s still standing. We’ll spend the night there and wait for further instructions.” His words weighed heavy in the air. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay composed.

When you entered the place, the sight was sobering. Just over half a dozen soldiers were left. The others, you were told, had been sent out on missions—and none of their teams had returned. You shook the thoughts away, chalking it up to exhaustion. Fatigue was setting in, and all you wanted was a shower and some sleep. For now, this camp would have to do.

Adjusting the straps of your backpack, you glanced around and saw everyone gathering their belongings. You opened your gun case and checked the magazines, counting each one carefully. “We’ll need to do inventory soon,” you muttered, mostly to yourself.

Beomgyu caught your words and looked over, his eyes flicking from your face to the black case cradling the weapons.

Arriving at the camp on foot felt like walking into a ghost town. The only sign of life was… the small group of soldiers waiting, their tired eyes, makes the place feel even emptier. Captain Joon started barking orders, assigning tents to everyone. Your mind was fixed on one thing: rest.

“I’m going to shower and sleep. Wake me if I’m needed,” you told the captain, walking past him as he gave you a quick nod.

You headed to your tent, overhearing the arrangements for the five civilians. They’d be taking turns in the showers, then each also having a small tent of their own. Your own shelter was small, just as you’d expected. You set your things down, pulling out what you needed for the shower.

The shower area was sectioned off with a heavy curtain, its edges swaying slightly in the breeze. You pushed it aside and stepped in, letting the cool water wash over you. The sensation of the water running down your back. After finishing your routine, you reached for a towel and your robe. Once you’d changed into a clean military shirt and loose pants, you stepped outside, your hair still damp.

The camp was quiet, save for the crackle of a small fire in the center. A few soldiers sat around it—Yeonjun was eating, with Beomgyu and Taehyun seated beside him. Soobin, walking toward them, caught your gaze and gave you a respectful bow. Kai was likely in the showers, taking his turn.

Back at your tent, you dried your hair—hitting the makeshift pillow, your eyes drifted shut. It was harder to sleep that night.

Beomgyu jolted awake to the sharp crack of a gunshot. His chest tightened as he gasped, sitting up abruptly in the darkness.

BANG.

Another shot echoed through the camp, louder this time. He instinctively covered his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. The sound was close—too close. A flurry of gunfire followed, chaotic and all over the place. He froze as a shadow darted past the thin walls of his tent. His hands trembled as he forced himself to stand.

He fumbled for his pants, pulling them on as another scream tore through the night, quickly silenced by another gunshot. His mind raced. Should he go outside? Should he stay hidden?

Soobin. Yeonjun. Taehyun. Kai.

You.

The names rang in his head snapped him. He peeked through a small gap in the tent’s fabric, his breath hitching at the sight outside. Strangers—men he hadn’t seen earlier—moved through the camp. One of them hefted a sack of supplies over his shoulder, while others fired wildly at the soldiers.

Bandits?

The realization hit hard. These men were fighting the soldiers stationed at the camp, gunfire exchanged in rapid bursts. Beomgyu swallowed hard. His tent was further out than the others, which gave him a sliver of cover, but he knew he had to move. As he stepped out of his tent, a bullet zipped past him, close enough to feel the air shift against his cheek. He flinched, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What the—”

A scream drew his attention. A bandit, snarling and swinging his weapon, was overwhelmed by an infected lunging at him from the side. The sight froze Beomgyu in place, fear rooting him to the spot.

A hand clamped over his mouth, silencing the scream that threatened to escape. He turned sharply, eyes wide, only to see you staring back at him.

“We’re leaving. Or we’re dead,” you whispered, your voice urgent but low. Beomgyu hesitated, glancing toward the other tents. He wanted to go to the others, to check if they were okay, but you tightened your grip on his wrist, stopping him.

“They will see you,” you hissed. Behind you, the infected were starting to swarm the camp, drawn by the gunfire. Beomgyu felt a lump rise in his throat. Your hand dropped from his mouth, and you tugged on his wrist, shoving him back toward his tent. “Grab your things. Be fast.”

Beomgyu stumbled inside, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed his backpack. He hadn’t even unpacked yet, telling himself earlier he’d do it in the morning. Now, it didn’t matter. There wasn’t going to be a morning if he stayed.

When he stepped back out, you were watching the bandits, your jaw clenched. He noticed your backpack already slung over your shoulder. The white shirt you’d worn earlier was still visible beneath a hastily thrown-on jacket, paired with cargo pants and sturdy boots.

“Come on,” You started moving, weaving through the shadows with practiced steps. Beomgyu followed—heart heavy and torn as he glanced back toward the other tents.

His four brothers weren’t with him.

Beomgyu’s feet ached with every step. He had been trailing behind you for what felt like hours, though it couldn’t have been more than fifty minutes. Your strides were quick, far faster than he could have imagined for someone with shorter legs than his. He had no idea where you were leading him, and the darkness of the woods only made it worse.

Shadows stretched long between the trees, and every crackle of leaves underfoot made his heart jump. But then you turned back to look at him, your face briefly influenced by the moon's light—it was just a quick check to make sure he was still behind—and somehow that was enough to keep him moving.

Finally, you stopped in front of a towering tree. Its trunk was wide and strong, the kind that seemed to have stood for centuries. You tilted your head up to inspect it, then turned back to him. “This will do. We’ll climb up here,”

Beomgyu blinked, his gaze sweeping nervously between you and the tree. Climbing? He had never climbed a tree before—not even as a kid. But the alternative—staying on the ground, exposed to the infected, or people that might be lurking—was far worse.

“O-okay,” The two of you did not know where you were going—or how far you still had to go—but at least up here, you could catch your breath. He watched as you point toward the bark, signaling for him to go first.

“Here,” you said, tapping a sturdy-looking notch just above your reach. “Put your foot here.”

“You sure it’ll hold?”

“It will, trust me.”

Beomgyu swallowed hard and placed his foot on the notch. It felt solid, but the uneven texture of the bark made him wobble slightly. He grabbed the trunk for balance, his fingers scraping against the rough surface. “Here, grab this branch,” you guided him, pointing to a solid-looking limb.

The bark was rough, but he held on, his muscles trembling. The tree swayed just a little under his weight, the rustling leaves made him think that the whole thing might give way. But it didn’t. With a grunt, he hoisted himself, settling into a spot that felt stable enough to hold him. The height gave him an odd sense of relief—He looked down at you, his fear replaced by a grin.

When you were nearly at his level, reaching for a branch to pull yourself up, the wood suddenly gave way with a sharp crack. Making you slip. “Shit!” Beomgyu lunged toward you, his hands finding your elbow just in time. “I-I—What do I do?!”

“Can you not panic like you’re the one about to fall?” you snapped, though your voice lacked real bite.

“Right!” he stammered, his grip tightening. You grasped his other outstretched arm, and with one strong pull, he managed to haul you up. The force of it sent you toppling forward, landing squarely against him. For a second, everything went still. Beomgyu’s breath hitched as he looked up at you, your face inches from his.

You could feel the warmth of his body against your chest, see the subtle freckles and barely-there moles on his skin that you hadn’t noticed before. His gaze flickered to your lips.

In a swift motion, you pushed yourself off him—brushing the dust and bits of bark from your clothes, you avoided his eyes. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet.

An hour had passed since the two of you settled. Your back leaned towards the tree and for a brief moment, you let your eyes close, though your mind raced.

Plans. Risks. Next steps.

“What’s the next plan?”

You opened your eyes, exhaling softly. “I’m planning to check back at the camp once the sun’s up,” you said after a moment. “From a distance. The infected were drawn to the gunfire, so I doubt they’ll stay there. But I need to see what’s left.”

Beomgyu nodded, “We should see if there’s anyone still there. Maybe stuck or hiding.”

You glanced at him and adjusted the rifle slung across your chest. The weight of the handgun in your pocket and the knives strapped to your thighs felt heavier.

“We’ll try to track them too,” you said, then added quietly, “Or you could stay here and wait for me.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Okay.”

Silence fell between you again, interrupted only by the faint rustle of leaves. Beomgyu broke it with a sudden thought. “I can’t believe people can kill each other just like that,” he said, voice with disbelief.

The words made you pause. Your eyes, previously shut, opened fully, and you turned your head slightly toward him. But you said nothing. “Why did they do that?” Beomgyu asked, his tone softer now.

You didn’t respond. Instead, you looked away, avoiding his gaze. His eyes—they were too brown, too soft for a world like this. When the silence stretched too long, he shifted uncomfortably, his ears flushing red. “I… I wanna thank you. For bringing me with you,” he said, shyly. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Sleep,” you said, brushing his gratitude aside. “I’ll keep watch.”

“I do think I can,” he admitted, rubbing his neck. "I swear I can still hear the gunshots in my ears.” You sighed. Sleep wasn’t an option for you either.

Beomgyu hesitated before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“You already did,”

His face flushed deeper. “I mean… another question.”

When you didn’t respond, he continued, “Why are you the only woman in your team?”

Your eyes flicked to him, one brow raising slightly. “Are you implying there shouldn’t be one?”

“No! God, no,” he said quickly, his hands flailing slightly as he stumbled over his words. “I mean, it’s just—wow. It’s amazing.”

“That a woman can do a man’s job?”

“No—yes—no!” Beomgyu groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I just mean, like… it’s impressive. Especially since women aren’t even required to go through military service. But here you are, and you’re killing it—uh, not literally—well, maybe literally, but—”

You studied his flustered face for a moment before cutting him off, “I get it,” you said, watching as relief washed over him. “I think I was just… born for this. I can’t imagine myself doing anything else.”

“That’s… cool,” he murmured, nodding slowly. You hummed, leaning your head back against the tree.

“I don’t think I can imagine myself doing anything else either,” Beomgyu said, thoughtful. He stared at his hands, a small smile tugging at his lips. You watched him for a second longer than you meant to.

“That’s cool,” you echoed his words, earning a laugh from him. His smile widened, his laugh soft but real, and it lit up the darkness around you. Even his laugh—

It made you look away, your chest tightening. His smile—it was dangerous.

Beomgyu turned his gaze to you, studying your profile. The way your lashes caught the faint moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.

“How old were you when you joined the military?” he asked, randomly. Your expression froze, startled by the question.

“What?”

“I mean, if it’s okay to ask,” he said, tilting his head slightly, his tone careful. “You don’t have to—”

You swallowed hard, a lump forming in your throat. That question—it wasn’t one you wanted to answer again. Not now. Not ever.

“Close your eyes and rest,” you said flatly, “We’re done talking. The dead might hear us.”

The other one's face fell.

The sunlight was warm against Beomgyu's face, pulling him from his sleep. He blinked a few times, squinting at the brightness, trying to shake off his muzzy state.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." You say, "If you want to come, we need to go. Now."

He turned to see you already packing up, tossing a protein bar his way without looking. He barely caught it, fumbling it in his hands before managing a weak, “Thanks.”

"Let's go." You unscrewed your water bottle and took a quick drink before slinging your gear over your shoulder. Without waiting for him to respond, you started climbing down from the tree. Beomgyu followed, the descent easier than the nerve-wracking climb up last night, his legs still felt stiff from the awkward position he’d slept in. His feet hit the forest floor, and he took a deep breath. The woods in daylight were almost beautiful painting everything in shades of green.

He yawned, unwrapping his protein bar as he fell into step behind you. The two of you walked in silence, his eyes wandering over the scenery. It was hard to reconcile how peaceful the forest looked with the gnawing fear in his gut. About twenty minutes in, you suddenly stopped, your hand shooting up in a signal. Beomgyu, distracted, nearly walked into you.

“Infected,”

He followed your line of sight and spotted it—a man-shaped figure stumbling through the trees, its feet dragging awkwardly. The distance between you and it was still considerable.

Beomgyu glanced at you, his eyes wide. “How did you even see that?” he whispered. “I wouldn’t have noticed it until it was right in front of us.”

You ignored the question, “You haven't done this yet, so now’s the time to learn.”

Now, the words struck him awake. He’d known this was coming—he wasn’t naive—but he hadn’t expected it to be now. “Are you sure? Shouldn’t we find, I don’t know, somewhere more open for this?” He couldn’t help the nervous edge in his voice. Just weeks ago, his biggest challenge was memorizing their group's choreography.

“This is the perfect place to practice,” you said, not bothering to look at him.

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I mean, I’m not scared or anything, but—”

“Scared?” you interrupted, finally turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

“No. Let’s just get it over with.”

You nodded, pulling a knife from your belt and handing it to him. The weight of it in his hand felt foreign. He stared at the blade, the black handle smooth, well maintained. His eyes caught the faint etching of your name on it.

“Grip it like this,” you said, adjusting his grip. Your hands were firm, guiding his fingers into place. “Keep your thumb here for control. When you strike, aim for the head and use enough force so you don’t have to do it twice.”

He nodded, his throat dry. "Go in when I say.”

The infected was closer now, its groans louder, its movements jerky and unnatural. You gestured for him to move to the left, opposite of where you were going. He obeyed, his steps hesitant.

You moved quickly, drawing its attention. Beomgyu couldn’t take his eyes off you as you circled it without second thoughts or any fear.With a sharp kick, you knocked its legs out from under it. The infected collapsed to its knees, and you pressed your boot into its back, holding it in place. “Come here,”

Beomgyu swallowed hard, the knife trembling in his hand as he approached.

“Kill it,” you instructed, tilting the infected’s head to expose its temple.

His heart pounded as he raised the knife. He brought it down, but his strike lacked strength, and blade only sank halfway in. The infected howled, its hands clawing weakly at the air. “Y/N, I—what do I—”

“Again,” you cut him off, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the knife. “Use both hands if you have to. Pull it out and try again. Harder this time.”

He did as you said, the knife coming free with a sickening squelch. Blood splattered onto his hands, warm and sticky, and he nearly gagged. Clenching his teeth, he raised the blade again and drove it down with all his strength. The groaning stopped, the infected falling silent.

You let the body slump to the ground, standing up as Beomgyu stumbled away, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He made it to the nearest tree before doubling over, the contents of his stomach spilling onto the forest floor.

Beomgyu’s breath hitched—he was the one who ended them, the one who took what little remained of their existence. He never imagined his life would come to this—how could he? Just a month ago, his world had been with roaring crowds, and music that echoed through stadiums. He’d been smiling at cameras, shooting music videos, and waving to fans who looked at him like he was untouchable, someone larger than life.

You crouched next to him, holding out a piece of cloth. He stared at your hand for a moment before taking it —your hands looked smaller than his, fragile—he wipes the blood on his trembling fingers.

How? How could you—manage to do all of this?

“You ended its suffering,” you said quietly, hesitant. “That’s how I try to think of it.”

“Does it get easier?”

“Never.”

It was just a single word, but somehow, it felt like a glimpse—Beomgyu feels closer. It felt like he knew you just a little bit better.

The two of you continued toward the overrun camp, the knife you’d lent Beomgyu still in his hands. For all the danger the weapon symbolized, it seemed to bring him a strange kind of comfort, his grip on it much more familiar.

Another walker crossed your path, Beomgyu stepped forward, more sure of himself this time. With just a little guidance from you, he managed to take it down.

Familiarity.

When you reached the backside of the camp, low growls echoed from ahead. Slowly, you leaned out to peek, careful not to make a sound. About a dozen infected, just as you expected.

And just as you'd predicted, the bandits had left too, leaving nothing behind but destruction. You moved, glancing over your shoulder to check on Beomgyu. He was scanning the area, his movements mirroring yours. That small action made your chest swell with pride.

He's learning. He's trying. And most of all, he's here—for his friends.

Together, you began checking the tents, moving smoothly and silently. Nothing. No survivors. But you found a few supplies—military rations, protein bars, ammo and some guns. Grabbing a duffel bag, you started packing up. Beomgyu helped in without hesitation.

Halfway through the camp, Beomgyu froze. His eyes locked on something ahead. That’s when you saw it too.

BEOMGYU, KAI, WE GOT OUT. WITH THE OTHERS. WE’RE HEADING TO THE JEONJU CAMP. STAY SAFE. SB, YJ, AND TH.

“They got out,” Beomgyu said, his voice breaking the silence. Relief washed over him, lifting some of the weight he’d been carrying. Kai wasn’t with them yet, but this was hope. He would find Kai too. He’d see this message too. “I knew it!”

He spun around to face you, a grin breaking across his face. He pumped his fist in the air, silently cheering as if he’d just hit the jackpot. That boyish smile, dimples and all, made him look so much younger.

And then, he saw it—a faint, fleeting curve of your lips.

His laugh bubbled out, soft and genuine, as he ran toward you, nearly tripping over his own feet in excitement. You're perfect, he thinks, the thought hitting him as naturally as breathing. You try to step back, caught off guard, but it’s too late.

It’s already too late.

“I freaking knew it,” he said, his arms around you warm, his chin resting on the top of your head. You stood frozen, your hands awkwardly at your sides, nodding stiffly.

“I told you,” he whispered. When he finally steps back, his eyes search your face, the smile he’d seen just moments ago is already gone. You look away, avoiding his gaze, and the sudden absence of it—leaves an ache in his chest.

He wants to see it again.

“Let’s wrap this up and circle outside the camp,” you say, pulling the zipper closed on the duffel bag you’d packed full. “We need to check if Kai’s lingering nearby. And we’ll need to secure a vehicle too. We’re in Daejeon—its a long way to Jeonju.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu’s voice is quiet, and his cheeks flush red as he remembers his earlier outburst—the way he’d hugged you without thinking. Maybe it was the relief from the message, or maybe it was just seeing you smile at him for the first time.

“Why do you think they’re in Jeonju?”

“Probably got a radio response,”

He nods, falling in step behind you as you heft the duffel bag over your shoulder. Beomgyu quickens his pace, catching up to you. He tugs the bag from your hands. “Let me take this,”

The two of you stepped out of the tent, the silence heavy between you. You were nearing the camp’s edge when Beomgyu noticed you slowing down, your steps faltering.

Seo-jun.

His movements were slow, his hands trembling as he stumbled forward. He's looking at you. Seo-jun’s blood-soaked uniform and gaping bite on his neck entered your vision. Gunshot wounds riddled his chest—a soldier’s final stand. He had fought. Hard. For his team. For everyone.

"Y/N?" Beomgyu’s voice broke through the haze, soft but urgent. He noticed that you had stopped, your gaze fixed on the infected figure ahead. He squinted, and his heart sank when he realized it was someone from your team.

Seven years. You had known Seo-jun for seven years. You had planned to make things right with him, to talk, to reconcile. But how could you now? How could you fix things when he was already lost? You tried to blink away the moisture from your eyes.

“Am I ever getting a break?” you muttered to yourself, the words bitter. "Even here, you find a way to mock me, Seo-jun."

Beomgyu could hear the shakiness in your voice, the rawness in the way you spoke. He listens.

You couldn’t leave him like this. Alone in his lifeless form, wandering endlessly. He deserved more than that. “Come on, you shit,” you muttered, your throat tightening as you stepped forward, reaching for your knife. But you froze.

Around his neck, alongside his dog tags, hung another set. Min Ju-won’s. Even at the end, Seo-jun had carried that burden, blaming himself for something you both knew wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t let it go, not even in death.

Seo-jun’s body crumpled to the ground. Beomgyu guided him down gently, almost reverently. From his backpack, Beomgyu pulled an extra jacket. Without a word, he draped it over Seo-jun’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was the only dignity he could offer.

When he stood, his eyes met yours, raw and glistening with emotion.

“Why—” Your voice cracked, unable to finish the question.

“He was your friend,” he said quietly. “I'm not going to let you do that. Not while I’m here.”

Friend.

That single word shattered whatever fragile wall you’d been holding up. A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped it away with your hand.

“He’s not suffering anymore,” Beomgyu added softly, his hand gently brushing the top of your head—you avoided his eyes, yet again. “He’s not suffering,”

He bent down to grab the duffel bag he’d dropped earlier, slinging it over one shoulder. Then, he reached out, his hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Let's get out of here.” He pulled you forward.

Beomgyu's hand didn’t leave yours until the two of you were far beyond the camp.

"Hey," you called out to Beomgyu, who was busy checking a nearby car. "This looks fresh—like it hasn’t been here long." He made his way over, and you held out—a baseball, cap.

"Wait," Beomgyu said, eyes widening as he took it. Turning it over in his hands, he inspected it closely. "This… this is Kai’s,"

When you looked at him, a small smile was already spreading across his face, lighting up his features like it always did.

Beomgyu… he was so easily moved by the smallest things. It didn’t take much to make him smile. Or maybe it wasn’t that simple. Maybe it was because he loved his brothers, that even the smallest sign of them was enough to give him something to hold onto.

You dropped your gaze when his eyes met yours and moved toward the next car, pretending. But your thoughts refused to stay put. Here you were again, thinking about him—about his silly antics.

In the past twelve hours, it felt like he’d done nothing but occupy your mind. Every small moment with him clung to you. The way his voice softened when he spoke—The way he’d quietly ask, “You okay?” as if you were the one who needed saving.

After Seo-jun—he hadn’t said a word about it. No awkward condolences, no probing questions. Just silence—the kind you needed. Like he just… knew. No one had ever been like this—this careful, this kind. No one had ever looked at you the way he did, with eyes that were too brown and too full of something you didn’t want to name.

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

“I think Kai’s already ahead of us,” you bit into the bland military ration that was handed to you. “Heading towards Jeonju, if those tracks are anything to go by. He’s smart.”

“He is,” Beomgyu agreed, a small smile at his lips as he stirred the contents of his disposable pack. “He’s the calmest one too.”

“Then I guess we will see him there,” you said with a shrug. “Now all we need to do is find a working car.”

“A manual,”

“Hm.”

“That has gas in it.”

“Figures,” you muttered. “But that’ll be the easier part.”

Silence settled over the two of you again, it had become strangely common. You both ate, focused on the food. Every so often, you’d catch Beomgyu glancing your way, and flashes you his small, boyish grin on his face.

You tossed the empty pack toward a nearby car and wiped your hands on your pants. “It’s getting dark soon,” you said. “We should camp nearby and head out at first light.” Moving at night was usually the smarter option, especially with a vehicle and a full team. But here, now? Just the two of you, on foot, with no guarantee of shelter or backup—it wasn’t worth the risk.

Sticking to the woods was safer. The fewer infected—or people—you encountered, the better. You only ventured onto the road when there was a car worth checking.

In the fading light, a barn came into view. Its doors were wide open, silhouetted against the trees. You signaled Beomgyu to wait outside while you moved to secure the area. Inside, it was clear the owner had left in a hurry, taking most of what mattered. It was empty, save for a few odds and ends no one had cared to take—its enough for a temporary shelter.

“Looks good enough,” you murmured as you stepped back outside. Beomgyu nodded, already starting to unload your supplies. The discovery of a small lake nearby was an unexpected bonus.

“I’m going to wash up,” you said, gathering what you needed and slinging your gun over your shoulder. Beomgyu gave a slight nod, his eyes lingering on you as you walked away.

The water was cold, scouring away the dirt and sweat. You were quick, not wanting to leave Beomgyu alone for long. When you returned, your damp hair clung to your neck, and your skin was clean and slightly chilled.

“Your turn,” He glanced up, eyes flitting over your freshly washed face. His heart thudded hard in his chest. Cute, he thought, forcing himself to look away. Beomgyu nodded, grabbing his things and heading out to the lake. He came back just as fast, hair dripping but visibly refreshed.

You sat side by side on the makeshift bedding, neither of you saying much. Beomgyu’s soft breathing enters your ears—hand rested close enough that you could almost feel its warmth against your skin.

You found your eyes beginning to close with peace you hadn’t realized you were still capable of feeling.

Beomgyu woke up, immediately turning to his left. There you were, curled up on your side, the rise and fall of your chest visible in the dim space. He stared, mesmerized—it was the first time he’d ever seen you asleep. You looked… soft. A side of you he never thought he’d witness.

He shifted. The urge to pee was becoming unbearable. Careful not to wake you, Beomgyu slipped off and crept toward the barn door. The cold air hit him as he stepped outside, wrapping his arms tightly around himself for warmth. He scanned the area just like you’d taught him—ears tuned to every sound. Nothing.

He let out a breath of relief and headed to a nearby tree. Unzipping his pants, he took care of business quickly, the chill urging him to hurry. After he finished and zipped back up, a faint rustling behind him made him stop. Before he could turn, a large, rough hand clamped over his mouth, oppressing his scream. Another arm locked around his neck, pulling him back against a solid chest.

“Shut up if you value your life,” a low, gravelly voice growled against his ear. The man holding him inhaled deeply near his hair, a disgusting, exaggerated sniff. “Freshly washed. You’ve got a place nearby, don’t you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes darted ahead, and his stomach dropped when three more men stepped into view. Each held a weapon—a bat, a knife, and worst, a pistol. The man restraining him gives a rough shake, his breath hot and foul. “Don’t make me ask again. Where’s your camp?”

Beomgyu shook his head violently, panic blooming in his chest. He couldn't—he wouldn't—lead them back to you. The thought of them finding you, sleeping and unaware—this was his fault. He should have been more careful.

The man growled in frustration. “Y' think this is a joke?” he spat, hardening his chokehold. Beomgyu’s throat made a strangled sound as he gasped for air. The man with the knife stepped forward, expression predatory. “Maybe this will help him remember,” he said, pressing the blade against Beomgyu’s cheek. The sharp metal bit into his skin, not enough to draw blood, but enough to make him wince.

“There’s a barn ahead,” the one with the baseball bat said,“Think that’s it?” Beomgyu’s reaction betrayed him—his wide eyes and the flash of fear gave them all the confirmation they needed.

“Yeah,” the man holding him laughed darkly, “that’s it.”

Before Beomgyu could resist, they forced his hands behind his back and bound them tightly, shoving a cloth into his mouth to stifle any protest. He struggled, but it was no use—they yanked him forward, dragging him roughly toward the barn. And he knew exactly where they were taking him. To you.

“Fucking hell,” the man holding Beomgyu growled, his gaze shifting to your sleeping figure inside the barn. A dark grin tugged at his lips. “Is this what you’re so scared of? Afraid we’ll take her away from you?”

Beomgyu thrashed, desperate to scream, to warn you, but the cloth bound tight in his mouth smothered any sound. The group moved closer, one of them stepping forward to push the barn door open. The large, old door creaked. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to wake you.

Your eyes snapped open, adjusting to the figures looming at the entrance, shadows that didn’t belong. Your hand reached for the gun nearby. The glint of their weapons caught your eye as they aimed at you in return.

“Sweetheart,” the tallest man drawled, stepping forward. His tone was mocking, dangerous. He shoved someone in front of him—Beomgyu. Your breath hitched as your eyes locked onto his. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and tears, and a raw red mark marred his cheek. His wide, terrified eyes pleaded with you.

Red.

“What the fuck do you want, asshole?” You cocked your gun, the sharp metallic click echoing. One of them flinched. Good.

The leader sneered, shoving Beomgyu roughly to the side. He tied him to a post like he was nothing more than an animal. Your jaw tightened as you watched the way they manhandled him, your fists clenching around the gun. When he was done, the leader turned back to you, whistling low at the deadly glare you levelled at him. His cocky smirk only deepened.

“You look loaded,” he said, his eyes flicking to the bags by the wall. “And since you asked so nicely, we’d also like to take turns with you, sweetheart.”

Beomgyu shook his head violently from where he was tied, his muffled cries useless against their laughter. His chest heaved, panic consuming him as the men began to advance on you.

“We’re lucky you’re here,” the leader continued, leering. “If we didn’t have a choice, we’d take the boy instead. He’s got such a pretty face, after all.”

Red.

All you saw was red.

Your vision blurred as rage consumed you. You let one of them grab your gun without resistance. It didn’t matter.

You'll kill them all.

The leader was close now, grabbing a fistful of your hair to tilt your head back. His face was inches from yours, his smirk as disgusting as the words spilling from his mouth. “What’s the matter, sweetheart? No fight left in you?”

You smirked—just a little. It was enough to confuse him, before he could react, your teeth sank into his throat. Hard.

It was a spot right where you knew it would hurt most. A pressure point. His scream ripped through while he stumbled back, clutching at the gaping wound with blood pouring through his fingers. The bitter, metallic taste flooded your mouth, but you didn't stop. You grabbed the gun he dropped as he fell and turned, firing without hesitation.

BANG.

The man who had taken your gun didn’t even have time to aim before he hit the ground.

“Fuck—” one of them snarled, charging at you. Before he could get too close, your foot sweeped his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a grunt.

BANG.

You aim your gun and pulled the trigger on his face. The man with the bat.

Pain exploded in your shoulder, a gunshot tearing through your flesh, but you didn’t flinch. His mistake wasn’t pulling the trigger; it was not aiming for your head like you aimed for his.

BANG.

The leader gurgled, blood bubbling up from his lips as he stared at you in disbelief. “Monster—” he chokes on the floor, his hands futilely gripping his shredded throat. His blood pooled beneath him as he sputtered his last, trying and failing to form a single word. “You—”

BANG.

You stared at the four lifeless bodies beneath you, the gun in your hand began to feel impossibly heavy. Blood clung to your shirt like a second skin, still warm, sticky. Your mouth tasted metallic, your hair a disheveled mess from the earlier struggle.

Behind you, Beomgyu sat slumped against the post, trembling. He’d watched everything—every deafening shot, every life you’d taken to protect. His body flinched with each pull of the trigger. Now, his tears streamed freely, but not out of fear. No, this wasn’t fear.

He was crying because you had to do this.

Sobbing around the cloth still gagging him, his muffled cries echoing in the now-silent barn. You moved, steps distant, as if someone else controlled them. You crouched down and began untying the ropes binding Beomgyu to the post. His breath hitched as your fingers worked the knots, your hands stained with blood that was not yours. The ropes fell loose. Beomgyu searched your face, desperate for some sign of emotion—but your eyes were blank, lost.

Before he could speak, you stood, bolting toward the barn door. Beomgyu panicked. He hiccuped, scrambling to his feet, his legs weak from being tied up for so long. “Y/N!” he tried to call, but his voice cracked. His head spinning.

You were gone. Were you leaving him? He looked around frantically, his feet faltering as the barn opened into the cool night. He couldn’t lose you. Not now.

Beomgyu finds you at the small lake nearby, kneeling in the water. The cold ripples lapped at your clothes, soaking them, but you didnt seem to notice. Your hands scrubbed furiously at your arms, over and over, like you were trying to erase your own skin. “Y/N,”

“Y-You were shot,” he said, voice cracking. His eyes darted to your shoulder, blood had begun to seep through your shirt.

You gasped for air, your chest squeezing with every shallow breath. No matter how hard you tried, it felt like the air couldn't reach your lungs. Your hands clutched your face as if you could physically hold yourself together—thoughts raced through your mind, loud and suffocating. The world around you blurred and warped, slipping further and further from your grasp.

You killed them.

“Y/N—” Beomgyu’s voice broke through. “Breathe—”

You barely registered him.

“Can you—”

“Look at me!” he shouted, louder this time. Hands cupping your face, trembling as much as yours. “Baby, look at me.” Your eyes darted up, locking onto his. Your tears spilled down your face.

“That’s it,” he said, his voice softening, “Just keep looking at me, brave girl.” You leaned into him, your weight heavy against his chest. His soft voice leads you.

“Okay,” he said, his forehead brushing yours gently. “I need you to help me out. Can you do that?” You nodded weakly in his arms.

“Good. Start with five things you can see. Anything, okay? Just tell me five things.” Your gaze darted, focusing on anything you could name. “The tree,” you whispered shakily. “The grass. The water. Your tears. And…you.”

“That’s it,” he said, “Now, four things you can touch. What are they?”

“Your hands,” you murmured, your fingers twitching against his. “The water. My hair. And…stones.”

“Perfect,” he said, his thumbs now against your cheeks. “What about three things you can hear?” You breathed deeply this time, the cloud in your head beginning to lift. “The wind. The water. And you.” His lips curved into the smallest, most fragile smile. “Two things you can smell?”

You hesitated. “The blood,” you admitted, voice cracking. “And…the trees.”

“One thing you can taste.”

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes fully. “Metal,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

"You did it." Beomgyu’s voice trembled, his hands cradling your face with a gentleness that only made the tears come faster. He does his best to brush them away. "Thank fuck."

“Beomgyu,” his name on your lips slips out barely more than a whisper. Forehead pressed against his shoulder, your arms wrapping around him slowly, shakily, until they found their place on his back.

There's a soft press of lips against your temple, warm and fleeting.

He helped you wash the blood off your body, his hands careful, never lingering longer than necessary. His gaze flicked to yours every few seconds, searching for some sign of permission—or maybe for you to tell him to stop. But you didn't. You can't, not when his eyes held that pleading look, soft and desperate, as if this was the only way he could help you carry the weight of what had happened.

When it came time to clean your face, you stopped him with a slight shake of your head. He didn’t argue.

Later, he examined the gunshot wound on your shoulder, gently turning you to check for an exit wound. Relief flickered across his face when he found one. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, had this more than I can keep track of.” you replied. His head snapped up, disbelief written all over his features.

The two of you walked back to the barn in silence, clothes damp from the lake. Your hands swung loosely at your sides, brushing his once, then twice, until Beomgyu hesitantly reached out and took your hand in his. You didn’t pull away.

“You can wait here,” he said softly when the barn came into view. “I’ll grab our things. We need to leave—someone might’ve heard.” You nodded, understanding without him saying it: he didn’t want you to see the bodies again.

Within minutes, he returned with your bags. You rummaged through yours, finding fresh pants and underwear but no shirt. “Do you have a shirt?”

“I do,” He's already handing it to you.

“Thanks.”

Slipping it over your head, you caught the faint scent of him—musky, with a subtle sweetness. It suited him.

The two of you moved to a nearby tree, settling under its shadow. The world was still dark, the night stretching on endlessly. You sat beside him, his shoulders side by side with yours.“Can you say it again?”

“What?”

“My name,” he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You noticed the tips of his ears reddening. “Like you did earlier.”

“No,”

He chuckled, his gaze falling to where your hands rested in your lap. “As I expected.” When you did not respond, he ventured another question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What about it?”

“Was that your first t—”

“It wasn’t,” you cut him off, your eyes fixed ahead. You didn’t know why, but the words kept coming. “I’ve killed before. Being a soldier in the war… it wasn’t a choice. Sometimes I even had to kill my own teammates.” You paused,“But this… it’s different. They were civilians.”

“You had to kill your teammates too?”

You turned to him, studying the calm expression on his face. His eyes—the same ones that had anchored you earlier—held no trace of distrust, even after your confession. “Why aren’t you freaked out by this?”

“Because I want to know you,” he said with a small shrug. “Believe it or not, I’ve always been a good judge of character—or at least, that’s what my mom used to say. Soobin, too.” He paused, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks. “Ever since I met you, there hasn’t been a single thing you’ve done that I couldn’t understand.” The answer caught you off guard, made something in you falter.

"I had to kill them because they asked me to,"

“Then you're the strongest person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t know how to respond—you dont trust your voice not to break. How could he look at you like that after everything he’d seen? After all you’d done?

Minutes passed, when you felt him shift beside you, his arm lifting as he gently guided your head to rest on his shoulder. The warmth of him made it easier to close your eyes.

"You can rest now,"

“This one doesn’t work either,” Beomgyu called out from up ahead. You were still busy checking the car you’d been inspecting—never mind. It didn’t work, either.

“Should we just go on foot?” he asked, exasperation into his voice. It had been over a day of wandering and hoping to find a working vehicle. There’d been a few infected here and there, but sticking to the backroads had kept you from running into anything worse than a small group.

“It’s dangerous,” you replied without looking up.

Silence.

Beomgyu never let a comment slide without a retort, you know that by now. Heart thumping, you stepped out of the car and scanned the area, instincts on high alert.

“BAH!” He jumped out in front of you, doubling over with laughter so intense it sounded like he might choke. “You should’ve seen your face!” he managed between gasps. “It was so cute.”

“Are you done?”

Clearing his throat, Beomgyu grinned. It was just another one of his attempts to get on your nerves. He pulled something from his pocket—a dusty Polaroid camera he had found in one of the trucks. He flipped it open and checked the film. Two shots left. Without missing a beat, he raised it to his face and clicked the button.

You blinked, unimpressed. “Are you even checking the cars, or are you just running around pretending to be Dora the Explorer?”

Beomgyu smirked as the film began developing. “You watch Dora?”

“No.”

“You just mentioned her.”

“She’s famous.”

“So am I,” he shot back. “But you didn’t know me before this.”

“Are you seriously going to bring that up again?”

“Heh.” Beomgyu’s grin only widened. He could almost see it—the tiniest twitch at the corner of your lips before you turned away. Almost. It made his heart flutter in that stupid, uncontrollable way he hated admitting to himself.

As the photo developed, he glanced down at it. The image of you slowly came into view—you, standing in the middle of the road, hair pulled into a loose ponytail, staring at something out of frame with a faintly confused look on your face. “Beautiful,” he exhales.

If you looked this good now, how stunning would you be on a normal day?

If this were a normal day, Beomgyu would be all over you.He’d give you flowers every single day, just to make you smile. He’d buy you anything you wanted—or even things you didn’t know you needed. Love is effort. It's what his parents taught him. — And he’d give it, all of it. He’d take photos of you, even beg if he had to, make playlists for you, play games with you, anything.

He wondered if you’d be any good at FPS games. You were already a menace with a gun in real life, so you’d probably be terrifying in a match.

Maybe, if the world ever allowed it, he’d convince you to visit Daegu, his hometown with him. His parents would love you. His brother, too, though Beomgyu would definitely have to bribe him to keep his mouth shut about the massive crush he’d been harboring on you. Would you like… Toto?

Beomgyu stared at the camera in his hands. Who knows if he’ll ever get another moment like this—another chance—in a world as unpredictable as this one? The idea settles in his mind, and he doesn’t let himself hesitate. “Let’s take a picture together.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning to give him that deadpan, unamused stare—the one that always made Beomgyu bite back a grin. Another idea sparked his mind, “Okay, listen. After this, I promise not to mess around anymore,” He jutted his lower lip out just slightly, eyes pleading like a puppy who’d been caught chewing on a shoe.

“You promise.”

“Cross my heart,” he said quickly, nodding like his life depended on it. When you didn’t immediately reply, he skipped towards you. He knew this silence, too—your subtle little “yes” that didn’t require any words. He’d been observing you to pick up on your signals, even the smallest ones.

You jerked back, shaking your head.

As the photo developed, Beomgyu stared at it, the edges curling faintly as the image sharpened. There it was—your face, with that same unamused look, your lips slightly pressed together like a daughter forced into posing for an overly enthusiastic mom. Beside you was him, the complete opposite—grinning like an idiot, dimples on full display, both your faces so close, touching.

Something about the contrast, about the way your expressions came together on that tiny square, made his heart do that stupid fluttering thing again. He tucked the photo into his pocket, alongside the other one.

He kept his promise and moved to the next car with you.

After three more hours of searching, you finally found a working car. Beomgyu let out an excited cheer, breaking into his little happy dance again. You tried not to smile, tried not to let his enthusiasm rub off on you—but, honestly, it was getting harder and harder to resist.

"Catch," you called, tossing the last bag to him. He caught it easily, stashing it in the backseat. Sliding into the driver’s seat, you glanced over as he settled into the passenger side. He looked so at ease there, sprawling out and fiddling with something on the dash. A passenger princess. Or was it prince? Either way, you could get used to him being there, looking peaceful for once.

You started the engine and pulled out onto the road, the car’s windows down to let in the cool breeze. As you drove, Beomgyu’s gaze drifted to your hair, your loose ponytail starting to come undone from the wind.

“Let me fix this for you,” he said, leaning over.

You felt his hands gently brush against your hair as he worked, careful not to distract you too much while you focused on the road. In the rearview mirror, you caught sight of his face—his brow furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted. His fingers brushed against your neck as he gathered your hair, the touch light and deliberate. You could feel the care in the way he worked, securing the ponytail more tightly this time. "There."

When he finished, he leaned back, his hands falling to his lap as he took a moment to admire his work—admiring you. His gaze lingered, drinking in the curve of your face, the way your hands gripped the steering wheel just tight enough. He never felt safer than he did here, by your side. Somehow, in the middle of all this, he’d found his safe place.

His safe place.

“Try to get some sleep while I drive,” Beomgyu's unable to look away—you were right there in front of him, so effortlessly beautiful it made his heart ache. The soft curve of your cheeks, the faint flush that he couldn’t stop staring at—he wanted to reach out, to brush his lips against them, to trace the tip of your nose with his own.

In the short time he’d been alone with you—just forty-eight hours—it felt like he’d known you a lifetime. Like you’d been waiting there all along, someone he was meant to find. He wants to know more.

“Yeah, sleep. Sure.” He replies, words catching in his throat.

You’ve been driving for a while now. Beside you, Beomgyu was fast asleep, his soft snores fill your ears. A faint smile tugged at your lips as you glanced over, his head resting against the window, one hand tucked beneath it like a pillow.

The camp was close, maybe 15 minutes away. Just 15 more minutes before you’d be separated from him. The thought twisted something deep in your chest. Selfish. You knew it was selfish to feel this way. You barely knew him, and yet…

You glanced at him again, his face soft and unguarded in sleep. Everything else seemed to fade—the road ahead, the weight of your responsibilities, even the constant buzz of survival.

Survival.

Being with him didn’t feel like you were just trying to survive.

Him—who had no choice but to end up with you. You were about to leave that camp. You're already far. But when you saw him at that overrun camp, darting between tents with nothing but desperation and bad luck to shield him from the bandits, something inside you shifted. You just moved. Your feet carried you forward before your mind could catch up, before the voice of reason could stop you.

You didn’t know then that the next two days with him would chip away at the walls you’d built.

And that smile he gives you—so easy, so genuine, even when there was no reason for it. Like he just couldn’t help himself. But now, it was ending. It had to end. You have to end it.

You tightened your grip on the wheel, staring hard at the road ahead. This was the right thing to do, the smart thing. You’d get him to safety, to people who could take care of him better than you ever could.

He didn’t belong out here with you, and you didn’t belong anywhere.

Survival.

There's nothing more that terrified you.

You spot the camp—Jeonju. It’s much bigger, with sturdy railings circling the perimeter to keep the infected out. The car rolls closer, the guards stationed on top of the walls notice you. A blinding floodlight clicks on. You know what that means: get out and identify yourselves.

“Beomgyu,” you say, shaking him awake. “We’re here. Wake up, dumbass.”

“Huh? Oh,” he mutters, the light strike his face. “Got it.”

“We’ll leave our stuff in the car for now. We just need to head up there and check in.” He nods, following your lead as you climb out. You raise both hands in the air, palms open. Beomgyu mimics you.

“State your business!” one of the guards calls down from the wall.

Before you can answer, you notice movement out of the corner of your eye. An infected, shambling closer—too close to Beomgyu. You’re already moving, boots hitting the dirt as you drive your foot into its chest and plunge your knife into its skull.

You step back into position, brushing some blood off your sleeve. “Park Y/N!” you shout up at the guard. “I report directly to Captain Joon. I’ve got Choi Beomgyu with me—a rescued civilian.”

You waited for ten minutes, at most.

The gates creak open, the panels sliding apart to reveal three soldiers stepping out, their rifles at the ready. One of them freezes, his eyes going wide. “That’s really Y/N from the Black Berets. Idiot.”

You ignore his outburst, your gaze cool as it shifts to his badge. “Can we go in now, Ji-min?”

The soldiers straighten instantly, snapping salutes in your direction. Two of them move toward the car, offering to grab your supplies. You give them a curt nod before turning to Beomgyu, only to find him already looking at you—his eyes, questioning.

“Is my team here?” you ask the soldier who stayed behind.

“Yes,” You glance back at Beomgyu. His stare now answered. Without another word, you both start to walk toward the gate.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened, his breath unstable after he spotted the four figures waiting inside. They were here. They were really here.

Before he could fully process it, Soobin’s tall frame sprinted toward him, Yeonjun and Taehyun close behind. He barely noticed you stepping aside to give them space, his entire focus locked on his brothers. The first embrace hit him like a floodgate bursting. Strong arms pulled him in, and the dam he’d tried so hard to hold together crumbled. He buried his face into the familiar comfort of Soobin’s shoulder, trying desperately not to sob. He had missed them. They had never left his mind—not once.

“Choi Beomgyu,” Soobin said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Are you okay?”

Yeonjun’s hand came up to gently ruffle his hair, a comforting gesture that made the lump in Beomgyu’s throat harder to swallow. “You’re not hurt, right?”

Beomgyu shook his head, sniffling as he wiped at his face.

“You took your time,” Taehyun teased with a small smile. “Sorry we couldn't wait for you back there. It's impossible to get to you, but we really tried.”

“It does not matter,” Beomgyu replied quickly, “Wait—where’s Kai?”

“He’s not here yet,” Soobin admitted, voice pained. “But one of the soldiers saw him escaping with someone else—a soldier. They said he made it out.”

“That ambush was insane,” Beomgyu nodded, even his heart ached. He had to hold onto hope. Kai was strong—he’d make it. Maybe tomorrow, or the day after, Kai would walk through those gates too.

A sudden panic shot through him, his head snapping to the side. “What’s wrong?”

Beomgyu eyes scanned the cluster of soldiers nearby. Where are you? He finally spotted you, standing with Captain Joon. The older man looked serious, but there was a warmth in his demeanor as he clapped a hand on your shoulder. You said something to him, your expression calm. Captain Joon’s face softened, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to pull you into an embrace.

“She’s been with you this whole time?” Yeonjun asked, surprised.

“Since the start,”

Soobin doesn’t wait. He steps forward, taking Beomgyu by the arm as Yeonjun and Taehyun fall in beside them. Together, the four approach you. You don't have time to register what’s happening before Soobin wraps his arms around you in a unexpected hug.

“Thank you,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for bringing him back to us.”

You glance over Soobin’s shoulder, catching Beomgyu’s gaze. He’s watching you, his eyes soft and full of something unspoken—a warmth that makes your chest tighten. You manage a small smile in return, the corners of your lips curving just enough to acknowledge him. He gives back a grin, that makes his dimple appear.

Gently patting Soobin on the back, you step away. “How are you holding up?” you ask,“I heard Kai’s not here yet. But with Ji-ho looking out for him, I know he’ll make it. He’s capable.”

Your words seem to ease the tension in the group. Soobin nods, his shoulders relaxing slightly. Yeonjun offers a faint smile, and even Taehyun pats your shoulder.

“We’re managing,” Soobin says. “Just waiting to hear what Hybe’s next steps are.”

Captain Joon appeared beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You’ve done enough for today,” he says. “Go wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Beomgyu trails behind the other three, footsteps slower, reluctant. He looks back over his shoulder, at the direction you went—away from him, toward your own assigned space. This camp is massive, lined with rows of tents in all shapes and sizes, yet somehow, even with so many people around, Beomgyu feels unmoored without you nearby.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. You’ll need to change the bandage on your shoulder soon. He knows that, just like he knows you probably won’t bother unless someone reminds you. It’s always him who keeps track, who insists on helping you replace the worn-out wraps.

“Here’s your room,” Taehyun points to the tent ahead. Beomgyu steps inside, placing his things near the bed. It’s small but better—an actual mattress and even a tiny bathroom. He crouches by his bag, pulling out a fresh set of clothes for after his shower.

He tugs off his shirt, fingers brushed against the knife strapped to his belt. Slowly, he unhooks it, focuses on the small engraving on the handle—your name, etched deep into the worn metal. Would you want it back? Probably. The thought makes his pout, because he doesn’t want to let it go. Not yet.

He crosses the room and sets the knife carefully on the small table, almost tenderly, like it's an object meant for something more delicate than killing.

He showers with his heart feeling impossibly heavy.

Your hair was still damp from the shower, clinging to your neck as you ran a towel through it. Tugging a fresh pair of cargo pants up your hips, you reached for your shirt.

“You should always keep it wrapped as long as it’s not healed yet.” His voice echoed in your mind, unbidden.

“Fucking Choi Beomgyu,” you muttered, shaking your head as you grabbed the roll of bandages from the small supply pile nearby. “Always so annoying.”

Your fingers worked quickly, wrapping the fresh bandage around your shoulder. The wound looked much better now. Once you were satisfied it was comfortable, you pulled your shirt over your head and stepped out of your tent.

Your stomach growled in response with the smeel of cooking. A warm meal—finally. “Y/N!”

You turned at the sound of Yeonjun’s voice. He waved you over, seated with their small group near one of the campfires. Several other campfires are on the open space with large pots of food simmered over flames. “Sit down here,” Yeonjun offered, patting the spot on the log beside him.

You took the seat, extending your hands toward the warmth of the fire. Across, your eyes met Beomgyu’s. He was seated opposite you, quiet for once, his gaze flickering away as soon as it met yours.

Yeonjun handed you a steaming bowl of soup, carefully scooped from the pot. “Fill up. It’s good,” he said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking the bowl into your hands. You reached for a spoon, Soobin beat you to it, holding one out.

“We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “Let me know if you need seconds.”

You cleared your throat, a little thrown off by the casual care they offered. It wasn’t something you were used to.

The conversation around the fire swirled, voices rising and falling as they swapped stories. You ate in silence, letting the warmth of the meal soothe you. It had been so long since you’d had something like this. But one person wasn’t talking much. Beomgyu.

You coughed—ate a little too fast, the food catching in your throat. It has only been a second when a water bottle was offered.

“Drink up,” Beomgyu said, already twisting the cap off for you. He reached for your bowl, holding it steady so you could take the bottle from his hand. You took a sip, the cool water easing the discomfort. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“That’s right, Beomgyu,” Taehyun teased, smirking. “Take care of her. I’m sure she had to drag your sorry ass out there.”

“She did not!” Beomgyu blurted, his ears turning red.

“Oh, I bet she carried you on her back,” Yeonjun chimed in, clearly enjoying himself. “What? No way!”

“You probably teased her the whole time,” Taehyun added, grinning.

“I didn’t—”

“What a baby,” Soobin finished with a dramatic shake of his head.

Their teasing bounced around the fire, growing louder. Mixed with exaggerated groans as playful shoves sent shoulders bumping on the log seats. Beomgyu, red-faced and clearly at his limit, stomped his foot on the ground in mock frustration.

You couldn’t help it; a laugh escaped you, small at first but growing. You quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand, your shoulders shaking as you tried to stifle it.

Beomgyu's wide eyes locked on you. You laughed. You finally fucking laughed. He feels his heart about to burst at the sweet sound.

“Oh-ho, look at her!” Soobin exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “The stress must’ve caught up with her. This is your fault, Choi Beomgyu!”

"Choi Soobin, you shi—," Beomgyu sputtered in protest, and more laughter joined with you.

It had been a week since that night by the fire. A week since Beomgyu arrived at the camp with you—and a week since he last saw you laugh like that. He could still picture it—your face by the warm glow of the fire, the soft orange light making you look almost ethereal. Did you know how exquisite you look when your eyes crinkle with joy? “Did you cut the vegetables, Beomgyu?” Yeonjun asked him as he pointed at the makeshift kitchen in the camp. “Yeah, I did,” he replied, tossing the emptied cans into the trash. He’d offered to handle it, trying to distract himself. Hybe still hadn’t contacted the military about their group, so they’d started helping around. The soldiers were reluctant at first, but Soobin had talked them into it. Now, they pitched in with small domestic tasks—delivering freshly laundered clothes from the women who washed them, cutting vegetables for the large communal meals, anything to stay useful. Beomgyu learned there were about forty-five people at the camp: nine civilians like them, eleven workers, and twenty-five soldiers. It had been a week since you’d spoken to him. A week since you’d even looked at him. Beomgyu tried. He really did. He’d tried to reach out. He started waking up early—a feat for him, someone who once detested mornings—he’d wait by the path, knowing it was your routine to jog at first light. But the moment he saw you, stretching with Do-hyun under the rising sun, his courage crumbled. Feet rooted to the spot, unable to move closer. He tried during meals too, sweeping his eyes on the tables, hoping to sit with you—but every time their group arrived, you were already standing, tray in hand, heading somewhere he could not follow. He even lingered around the grounds, pretending to have something to do. Sometimes, he felt a pair of eyes on him—heart leaping at the possibility it was you—but when he looked up, the space was empty. Eventually, he’d retreat to his tent, his shoulders heavy with defeat. It felt like you were avoiding him. Ignoring him. Do you hate him? Did he do something wrong? He lay awake most nights, staring at the canvas ceiling of his tent, replaying your moments together over and over. He could still feel the warmth of your hands. The memory of you in his arms—how perfectly you fit in it. Were you okay? Was your shoulder healing as it should? Were you eating enough? Sleeping well? Had he already become invisible to you? What is he to you anyway? A friend? Do you even consider him as one?

“You’ve been out of it these past days, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun’s voice broke into his thoughts, accompanied by a firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes searched Beomgyu’s face, concern evident. “What’s troubling you?”

“Nothing, I…” Beomgyu’s voice cracked as he tried to answer. He swallowed hard, looking away. “I guess I’m just… more tired than usual.”

“If you need to talk, let me know, okay?”

"When are you going to talk to him?" Do-hyun asked, breathless, as you pulled him to his feet after knocking him down for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. The moon guides your makeshift sparring circle. You hadn’t planned to spar with him; it just happened. Restless, you’d found yourself outside his tent, knocking like a ghost haunting its own grave.

You released his hand abruptly, stepping back at his words. “Let’s go again,” you said, more to yourself than to him.

Without waiting for a reply, you charged, throwing a closed fist at his right side. He dodged it easily, his laughter breaking the tense silence.

“You know, you’re way less terrifying when you’re distracted,” he teased, grinning at the glare you shot him. “Seriously, Y/N? How long are you gonna keep ignoring the boy? The guy’s trying so hard it’s starting to make me feel bad. If it were me, I’d have fumbled already—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed him by the neck, locking him in a chokehold. “I t-tap out! Fuck! You're going to kill me.” he wheezed, coughing as you let him go. He stumbled back, rubbing his neck. “Shit, I forgot how strong your grip is. For real, how are you not a man?” You didn’t respond. Instead, you wiped the sweat from your forehead, glancing at the clock. It was nearing 11 p.m.

“Reject the kid already, will you? Do him a favor so he can move on.” Do-hyun muttered, reaching for his water bottle. “You cold-ass woman.”

“He’s not a kid,” you said finally, your voice low but firm. Grabbing a towel, you wiped the sweat from your face. “He’s almost my age.”

“Sure,” Do-hyun replied, watching you closely as you drank from your water bottle, to the bags under your eyes. “Not sleeping again?”

You shook your head, capping the bottle and tossing it aside. “It’s harder these days.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. “But you’ve gotta try. I need to head out anyway—errands tomorrow. And honestly, I can’t take more knockouts from you. Have mercy.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, smirking despite yourself.

“You’re the idiot for ignoring—” You didn’t let him finish, rolling your eyes as you turned and headed for your tent. A quick shower later, you were lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The camp quiet, your mind was anything but. Frowning, you closed your eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

It never did.

Beomgyu tossed onto his right side again, the thin mattress beneath him groaning in protest. He lost count of how many times he'd shifted since lying down, each movement more restless than the last.

His chest felt tight, like his heart was pounding against some invisible weight. He sat up, running a hand through his messy hair in frustration. His gaze wandered aimlessly, landing on the small table by his bedside. He froze.

Polaroids.

The universe must be mocking him for missing you this much. Did he really need more reminders?

He inhaled deeply, the sound sharp in the quiet of his tent. Standing abruptly, he began pacing, his feet brushing against the worn canvas floor as a single question churned in his mind: Should I see her? His eyes flicked to the clock—11:28 p.m. Were you even awake?

But then, what difference did it make? Another night of lying there, drowning in this ache, wasn’t an option. He just needed something—your face, your voice, anything.

That’s what he told himself as he stopped pacing, turning toward the small mirror propped against the tent’s corner. His reflection stared back, dishevelled and vulnerable in a way he hadn’t let himself feel in years. He raked his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it out, What the hell are you doing? he thought bitterly. You’re an idol for god’s sake.

But then again, you were… a goddess. And right now, none of the titles, pressure, his previous job or self-doubt mattered. It doesn't matter if you'll kick him out as soon as you see him.

What mattered was seeing you.

He stopped just short of your tent, staring at the outline of it. His breath hitched, and his body betrayed him as he turned away, a cowardly retreat already forming in his mind. But he only made it three steps before he falter, his fists clenching at his sides. No. Not tonight.

He turned back, counting the seconds in his head. He rehearsed the words he’d been forming for days now, words that felt too small for what he really wanted to say but would have to do. This had to count. It had to—

“I can see you out there, you know. What do you want?” The sound of your voice sent a panic through him. You sounded tired, a little annoyed. The shadows must have given him away—his pacing back and forth casting restless shapes against the thin fabric of your tent. “Do-hyun?”

“It’s… Beomgyu,” He countered quickly, the way you said another man’s name at this hour unsettling him more than it should. Silence. He braced himself for rejection, for the possibility that you’d tell him to go, that he's insane to be here at this hour, or that you didn’t want to see him.

But the truth is, your eyes are wide inside. He’s insane. What is he doing here? Why now? You stand up slowly, your fingers brushing the edge of your blanket. You can’t turn him away now. It’s too obvious. “Come in.”

Beomgyu that stood outside your tent, hand unstable when he finally pushed the flap aside. The sudden rush of light revealed you, standing there, your eyes locking onto his. For a minute, he forgot how to breathe. His eyes on your face like he was trying to memorize every line, every shadow. “Hi,” he said, it wasn’t how he had planned to start, but it was all he could manage.

You instinctively stepped behind, folding your arms across your chest as a barrier. “What is it?” You looked away, unable to meet his eyes. They were too much—too deep, too brown.

"I-I— you’ve been ignoring me, Y/N. Don’t even try to deny it." His voice rises, “I called— I even called you out there twice, and I know you heard me.” He pauses, the lump in his throat refuses to go away. "Did I… do something? Something that made you mad at me?" The words are choked, his voice barely above a whisper now.

His eyes—glassy, rimmed red—look at you—he’s holding back tears; you can tell by the way his lips tremble slightly, the way he bites down hard on the inside of his cheek. But despite it all, he doesn’t look away. He can’t.

Not when he’s missed you this much.

"Beomgyu, whatever you think is between us," you let your arms fall limply to your sides, "it's nothing. This… this is just a mission. Soon, everything will go back to where it belongs." You pause, your words deliberate, heavy. "And we’ll never see each other again."

His eyebrows knit, disbelief etched his face. "Who decides that? Who says that?"

You exhale sharply, the weight of your own words pressing down on your chest. "It’s just how it is. That’s how it’s always been. You should surround yourself with people like you."

"I—" he starts, but you cut him off before he can unravel any further.

"Stop this." Your tone hardens, more defensive than you intend, but it’s the only way to protect yourself. "Don’t talk to me again, Beomgyu. Don’t seek me out. If you’re just… grateful for what happened, fine. I’ll accept that. And if you feel guilty about it?" Your voice cracks slightly, but you push through, "Then maybe… maybe you can pay me back someday. In the future."

Beomgyu’s lips trembled as he fought for his next words, his hands shaking. “Then tell me. Tell me, straight to my face, looking in my eyes, that you didn’t feel anything. That you don’t feel anything for me. That you’ll never like me, no matter what I do. Even if I…” His voice broke, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Even if I die trying.”

Everything you’ve held back finally spill over, and your voice comes out in a shaky whisper. "Dumbass."

“You can’t,” he said softly, eyes tracing the fall of your tears.

“What are—”

His words made you take a step forward, your hands trembling as you cup his tear-streaked face. He flinches at first, but then he melts into your touch, his breathing uneven. “I’m afraid,” you admitted, your voice breaking, freckles on his face evident with his face bare. “I’ll ruin you. I’ll ruin your life. I'm a fucking ruined person. Can’t you see that?”

"I see you more than you see yourself," His hands come up to cover yours, gripping them tightly as though letting go would mean losing you. "You're a fucking angel."

You sobbed at his words. Angel. The word echoed in your head, a word so unfamiliar. How could someone as shattered as you ever be called that? How could Beomgyu see anything but the cracks, the mess? How could someone this real—this kind—exist? Is he even real? A dream? Or is he just a figment of your imagination, conjured up in your darkest moments to give you false hope?

Your tears fall faster, and Beomgyu panics, own heart breaking at the sight of you crying. Gently, he lets go of your hands and slides his up your arms, his touch featherlight—moves slowly, as though afraid he might hurt you, tracing his way to your shoulders, then your neck, until his fingers cradle your face.

“Who would’ve guessed that you’re a crybaby too?” he whispered, his voice uneven but with affection. He steps closer, wrapping you in his arms, pulling your unstable form against his chest. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, your sobs muffled against his warmth.

You feel it—all the longing, all the sleepless nights spent thinking about him. The ache of holding yourself back every time you see him from afar—waiting for you, searching for you. He holds you.

He holds you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. One hand caresses the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, while the other keeps you pressed against him. He presses soft, baby kisses to the side of your head, whispering. "Y/N,"

You stepped back slightly from his embrace, but Beomgyu’s hands stayed on your face, his thumbs softly brushing against your skin. He smiled—how could a single expression hold so much, and somehow, make everything hurt a little less? You swallowed the lump in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you could have this. Even if it was only for tonight.

You rose onto your tiptoes, and leaned in. Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips to his—a fleeting, tentative kiss that barely lasted a second. It was quick, and when you pulled back, you were met with his wide eyes staring down at you, stunned. He hadn’t even had time to close them.

For a moment, neither of you moved. His eyes half-closed, his hands tightened slightly on your face, and before you could say anything, he leaned down, pulling you back in.

This time, he kissed you. He tilted his head just enough to fit against you perfectly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. His grip on your face was firm, his tounge grazing your lips—a soft plea—asking for entrance. You let him in, letting him taste you as you tasted him.

Both of you pull back, breaths heavy. A delicate string of saliva still connects your lips, breaking as Beomgyu takes a step forward more, his eyes locked on yours, "I want you."

You nod, reaching for him, your fingers curling around his arm to pull him back into you. "We have to be quiet."

His hands find your waist, fingers dip beneath the hem of your shirt. He lifts it, the fabric brushing over your skin, exposing the softness and heat of your bare waist to his touch. His palms glide over your skin.

You found yourself on your back, on the softness of your mattress, his weight settled on top of you. Delicate and warm. His hand grasps your thigh and he hoist it up his waist. “Please kiss me.” He murmurs into your mouth.

Your tongue brushes his, and he squeezes your thigh. He returns it, seeking your bottom lip to lightly suck on it. Your hands are up his shirt and he starts tugging down your loose pants. He shakily runs a finger between your legs and you inhale sharply. He rubs you, the feel of you soft, so good. He spreads you apart and gently caresses your clit. And you’re so fucking wet. He can't help but give a light sensual pinch. "Beomgyu," you moan on his lips. Made his heart flutter.

Your breathing is harsher and he looks at your pretty face as he shoves his middle finger in you—touching you is enough for him. He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you don't doubt whatever this is. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore.

He fumbles with your remaining clothes, taking his time as if savouring every second. It’s slower than you expected—partly because he keeps grabbing your face, pulling you into deep, heated kisses that leave you breathless.

Your hands help him get out of his shirt, pulls it over his head—hair falling over his forehead prettily. He leans down and kisses you—hands grab your hair and roam your body, his mouth does the same. Your face, your neck, your shoulder blades. "You're beautiful,"

He kisses down your chest and you run your fingers through his now much longer hair. He licks your nipple and your breath hitched. He bites gently, then bites harder and your back arches—he suckles, then lick. He does it again and again, to your left and right, giving them enough attention. He hears you moan—smirks at your skin—and he keeps wanting to hear it.

He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine. His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you taste so sweet, could eat this all day," He groans, lapping up, sucks the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles. His dick is throbbing at the way you taste. Your hands pull his hair, and he feels you down on his chin. He was leaving no parts untouched by his warm mouth.

Going back to you, looking at your face, he bows his head. “Kiss me.”

You pull his head down and kiss him, he slides right in and you cry out. "Fuck, you're so tight," He kisses you while he trusts in and out, your moans muffled on his mouth. "You feel so good," Your nails on his back scrape and he thrusts, hard, and keeps himself all the way in and you squirm under him, feeling you coming close.

"More, gyu." You whine out, legs gripping his warm waist as you pull him closer. He did, trust becoming faster, hitting the spot that made you moan out his name. He repositions himself deeper inside you, pressing you into the mattress, his free hand reaching for your clit, rubs lightly. "M'close," Then you felt it, the warm fuzzy feeling—the rush, almost blinding—the warmth of his arms and the softness of his whispered name on your lips that brought tears to your eyes. His own cum mixing with yours.

He smiled down at you, his lips quirking in a soft, almost shy grin as he took in your fucked-out expression. “I love you,” he whispered. He can't help himself.

The faint sound of running water filled the room as he disappeared for a second, and you assumed he was cleaning himself up. When he returned, his pants sit low on his hips, his chest still bare, and in his hand, he holds a warm, damp cloth.

Your eyes follow him as he approaches, his eyes filled with so much love it made your chest ache. He kneels beside you, his touch was careful as he ran the cloth over your skin, wiping away, cleaning you up. He worked slowly, keeping one of his hand holding your own, focus entirely on you.

When he was done, he looked up at you with that same soft smile, his eyes searching yours. You feel your own lips curve in response, reaching out to touch his flushed cheeks, your fingers brushing against his warm skin. The simple touch makes his smile widen into a boyish grin. His grin burned into the back of your mind. He holds you. He holds your heart too.

I love you too.

The warm rays of the morning sun seeped through the thin walls of the tent, casting a golden glow over the room. Dust motes floated in the light, drifting toward the tangled mess of blankets wrapped around your body.

It was the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You didn’t even remember falling asleep. A yawn slipped past your lips as you stretched your arms, rolling over to the other side.

You weren't alone.

Beomgyu.

He looked so peaceful when he slept, his features soft and unguarded. The sunlight kissed his skin, giving it a honeyed glow, and his hair fell messily over his forehead, looking impossibly touchable. The blanket on his side was pushed low, revealing that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His pale chest and neck were scattered with faint love bites—marks you had left there. His lips were slightly parted, and he looked so utterly…. serene, it made your chest swell.

You reached out, your fingers gently comb his hair. “Beomgyu,” you murmured softly.

"Hm?" He hummed.

You smiled, and he returned it—his smile lazy, but somehow brighter than the sunlight spilling into the room. “Hi, baby,” he greeted,

"It's morning,"

“I have things to do, you know,” you protested lightly, though you made no move to stop him. Instead, you let your arms encircle him, cradling his head. His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on the small of your back, familiar against your bare skin.

“Wake up,” you poked his cheek with your finger.

He parted his lips and let out an exaggerated, snore that startled a laugh out of you. “Idiot,” you said, shaking your head, though the fondness in your tone betrayed you. “I’ll give you an hour. After that, Captain Joon is going to start looking for me.”

"Let him look," Beomgyu groaned, burying his face deeper into your chest like a stubborn child. “But why is he always looking for you?”

“Because he’s my captain, you twat,” you replied, pinching his cheeks. “And, oh yeah, he’s my father.”

“What!?” Beomgyu shot up, his eyes now wide open and his sleepiness completely forgotten.

“Well, my adoptive father," Beomgyu’s eyes softened instantly at the word adoptive. He didn’t press, but his silence, the slight tilt of his head, was an invitation to continue if you were ready.

“Yeah, so, uh…” You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting slightly. “My parents were both special forces soldiers. When they were on a mission—a spy operation—they… they didn’t make it back. I was five.”Hi hand found yours, his fingers squeezing gently.

“I was sent to an orphanage after that,” you continued, your voice steadier now. "I was there for a few years. Then, when I was ten, Captain Joon showed up out of nowhere. Turns out, he was my dad’s best friend. He adopted me. Took me in like I was his own.”

Beomgyu nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “How did you end up being a soldier?” he asked softly.

A bittersweet smile tugged at your lips. “I guess it was always in me,” you admitted. “Even as a kid. Captain Joon saw that too. I was… kind of wild. Always getting into trouble at school—detentions, fights. I couldn’t stand bullies, even when they weren’t targeting me. I’d step in, no matter the cost.” You paused, letting out a quiet laugh. “It got worse when I got older. One time, I was walking home, and this group of older boys jumped me. They were bigger, stronger… I didn’t stand a chance. Captain Joon saw what happened, and after that, he decided to put me somewhere I couldn’t get hurt like that anymore. He took me with him—in a military camp.”

Your fingers brushed the hem of the blanket, your voice growing quieter. “I officially became a soldier when I was seventeen. Got into the Black Berets a year later.”

Beomgyu traced the line of your jaw with his fingers, his gentle touch made the words come easier.

“The time you asked me how old I was when I started…” You hesitated, but his intertwined hands with yours encouraged you to continue. “I got rude because… that question was asked of me once before. By someone. He was bitten by the infected, and I—” Your voice cracked, “I ended up killing him.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t bear the thought of seeing judgment—or worse, pity—staring back at you, but Beomgyu didn’t let you hide. His hands cupped your face, tilting it up until your eyes met his.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said, “He’s not suffering anymore.”

Your eyes shimmered with unshed tears as you nodded. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your head to rest against his chest. No words were spoken. For minutes, you stayed like that, listening to the thump of his heart against yours, a language of its own.

"I should probably be more careful around Captain Joon,” Beomgyu said out of nowhere, trying to lighten the mood.

You laughed, arms around you holding you closer. When he noticed you staring at him, he tilted his head slightly, his expression playful. “What? Too handsome?”

“Pfft,” you snorted. “Androgynous.” He whined dramatically, leaning in to pepper your face with kisses. You tried to push him away, laughing as he chased your retreating lips.

“Who would’ve thought,” he murmured, “that I’d fall in love with the prettiest girl at the end of the world?”

The words brought heat to your cheeks, and you turned your face away to hide the blush. “Okay, that’s enough,” you said, slipping out of his hold and reaching for the first shirt you could find—it was his.

He sat up too, watching you pull his shirt over your body. The hem brushed your thighs, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He gathers your hair that had gotten caught under the shirt, his fingers brushing against your neck. "I need to shower, Beomgyu."

In fact, there was barely any washing done.

Beomgyu finally steps out of your tent, though it took more convincing from you than it probably should have.

You’re still inside, safe from the prying eyes. The sun is higher now, casting everything in a harsh light. He squints, adjusting to the brightness, and immediately spots a few soldiers milling about nearby.

His stomach drops. If any of them so much as glance his way, they’ll know exactly where he just came from. Your tent. The only woman’s tent in a unit of 25 soldiers.

He keeps his head down, heat creeping up his neck and to his ears as he feels the unseen stares. The scenario playing out like an idol dating scandal—and dispatch is about to break the story of his life.

Choi Beomgyu, caught sneaking out of her tent at sunrise, he imagines the headline, biting back a groan. He quickens his pace, muttering to himself, "I’m so dead."

"Hold up."

A firm hand clamped down on Beomgyu's shoulder, halting his little walk of shame. His eyes widened as he turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Do-hyun. The older soldier’s eyes flicked back toward your tent—just six steps behind him—then back to Beomgyu’s freshly washed hair.

"And here I was, starting to feel sorry for you," Do-hyun said with a smirk. Beomgyu barely had time to stammer out a response before the tent flap rustled, and you stepped out.

"Do-hyun," Beomgyu glanced at you briefly, but you didn't meet his eyes, locked on Do-hyun instead. "Let’s go, yeah?" you asked, a pointed glare following the words.

Do-hyun chuckled, lifting his hands in mock surrender as he stepped back, releasing Beomgyu. "Sure, sure," he said, his smirk softening into something less smug.

The two of you walked off, leaving Beomgyu standing there, you glance back at him, catching a glimpse of his warm, flustered expression. Do-hyun caught it, muttering, "You’ve got him wrapped around your… finger,"

You didn’t even break stride, your foot shot out, connecting with his shin. Do-hyun yelped, doubling over, he clutched his leg. "Ow! Damn it, I was kidding!"

Beomgyu finally exhales when his tent comes into view, relief flooding his chest. He thought he was in the clear—until he steps inside and sees his three brothers waiting for him.

"Where the fuck were you?" Beomgyu knows he’s not getting out of this easily. This is going to be a long talk.

Beomgyu tells them. Everything. He leaves out the more private details—of course, he does. Some things are just for him to know. He starts from the beginning, telling them, that he just… fell in love with you.

The room goes quiet for a beat before Soobin steps forward, wrapping him in a hug, his voice soft. "Our little Beomgyu’s growing up," he says, sniffing dramatically.

Taehyun follows with a few firms pats on Beomgyu’s back, his smile warm. Yeonjun, leaning casually against the tent post, grins and shakes his head. "You lucky bastard," he teases, but there’s nothing but happiness in his voice.

The four of them embrace, there's a gap in their circle—a place reserved for someone who isn’t there yet but will be soon.

The day passed with a warmth in your chest, fueled by stealing stares and fleeting touches from Beomgyu.

Lunch was a lively affair, shared with Do-hyun, Eun-woo, Beom-seok, Yeonjun, Soobin, and Taehyun. The meal was filled with teasing banter, laughter cutting through the usual hum of camp life. Eun-woo’s soft pats on Beomgyu’s back and Beom-seok’s subtle nods didn’t go unnoticed—they were quiet acknowledgments.

Now, you walk toward the largest tent with your three teammates by your side. Beomgyu’s heated kiss still burns on your lips, the warmth of it fresh, even though it happened only an hour ago. — Captain Joon has called an unexpected night meeting, one that made Beomgyu pout as he agrees to wait at your tent.

The four of you step inside and salute, standing at attention until the captain’s familiar command: "Sit down."

The scene is one you’ve known many times before. Yet, there are absences that can't be ignored. Ji-ho, reporting in via radio, assures that he’ll be here soon with Huening Kai. — And Seo-jun.

“A brand-new mission for us,” Captain Joon announces, his eyes with a glimmer of hope rarely seen these days. “Word is there’s a doctor working on the possibility of a cure. And since Jeonju camp is the most stable for now, he’ll need assistance. This is the most critical priority, and we’ll be the ones handling it.”

Murmurs ripple through the group, surprised with cautious optimism. A cure—it sounds almost too good to be true. You let out a slow breath of relief, the faintest ember of hope flickering in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, humanity has a chance this time.

“We’re leaving in a few,” Captain Joon continues, his voice firm. “No time to waste.”

When you reach your tent, Beomgyu is already seated, and waiting. The moment he sees you, he stands, and you stride toward him without wasting any second, pressing your lips to his in a kiss he immediately melts into, “Are you okay?” he asks softly when you pull away, hands finding your waist.

“Hmm.” You nod, leaning into his embrace, arms wrapping around him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’re leaving now. Mission came in.”

Beomgyu stiffens. “Right now?"

“Yes.”

“O-okay.” His voice falters, and he swallows hard.

“It might take a while,” you admit, your hands sliding up to cup his face as you look into his wide, searching eyes. “It’s pretty far out, and I—”

“Come back to me safely,” he interrupts, his hands cradle your face. His thumbs gently brush your cheeks. “You don’t have a choice.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. You nod, "I promise.” Reaching up, you unclasp your dog tag, holding it carefully in your hands before slipping it around his neck. His eyes never leave yours, he watches you secure the chain.

“I’ll see you soon,”

He holds you.

It’s been two days since you left, and Beomgyu sits at the table, pushing his food around more than eating it. His mind keeps drifting back to you. The weight of your necklace around his neck is comforting—but it reminds him you’re not here. He sighs.

“There's a car coming!” someone shouts from the outer courtyard. Beomgyu’s head snaps up, his heart skipping a beat. He’s out of his chair in an instant, sprinting toward the commotion, the rest of his members right on his heels. His breath comes fast, uneven, as he skids to a stop outside. His eyes widen, and for the first time in days, relief crashes over him.

“KAI!”

Everything feels right. They’re together, whole. Now, he just needs you to get back here.

They fussed over Kai like he was the most fragile thing in the world, each of them trying to make up for lost time. Kai explained what happened—they had been trapped, which was why it took weeks to get here. But Ji-ho, just as you’d assured them before, had been capable. He’d taken care of Kai and somehow managed to get him back to them safely.

Later that night, Beomgyu was shuffling on his bed while Kai lounged comfortably nearby. It wasn’t long before the others would join them; Kai had pleaded for a sleepover with his brothers, saying he missed them too much to sleep alone. Of course, none of them could resist.

“Woah.” Kai says, and Beomgyu turned, pillow in hand, to see what had caught his attention. The younger was staring at the two Polaroids on Beomgyu’s bedside table, face lit with curiosity. “Is this real?”

“What, you think I Photoshopped them or something?” Beomgyu laughed, a little sheepishly. He paused, before adding, “I took those with her… on the way here.”

Kai’s eyes flicked back to him, curious. “You’re together?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu’s lips tugged into a shy smile. “She’s my girlfriend now.”

Kai’s grin was blinding, his low ponytail framed his face as he leaned closer to get another look at the photos. “She’s pretty. I’m really happy for you, Beomgyu.”

You step through the gates of Jeonju camp, your body aching. It’s been a month since you last saw this place—since you last saw him.

Your clothes are filthy, smeared with dirt and the blood of infected, but none of that matters now. The Doctor is alive, the cure is nearly complete, and your mission is done. You made it.

And then you see him.

Beomgyu is already running toward you, his eyes wide and filled with something that looks like disbelief, like awe, love. You can’t stop the smile that breaks across your face, even as your legs wobble beneath you. You start running too, stumbling at first, but your body pushes through the pain, the rest of the world blurring into nothing.

When you reach him, he doesn’t hesitate. His arms wrap around you tightly, lifting you off the ground. He holds you close. You cling to him, shaking from exhaustion and adrenaline and the overwhelming relief of being home—of being with him.

Everyone stops to watch. In a world so cruel, so damned, there’s something warm in the way two lovers find each other again.

A reminder to believe there’s still something worth fighting for.

"See you soon, and take care of yourself," Soobin leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. You nod, offering a small smile. "You too."

His lips curve into that familiar, reassuring smile as he hoists his backpack over his shoulder. "Y/N, stay safe," Taehyun says, stepping in to wrap you in a firm hug. You nod on his shoulders.

"Let’s have ramyeon soon, yeah?" Yeonjun chimes in, his usual playful grin lighting up his face. Without waiting for a reply, he grabs your face in his hands and plants a kiss on your forehead, mirroring Soobin. "I’ll cook for you," he adds confidently, pulling back but keeping his hands on your cheeks.

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Married to Ramyeon." He laughs too, giving your cheeks a playful pat before turning to follow Soobin and Taehyun onto the bus.

For a moment, you just stand there, watching the three of them board.

You turn to see Kai looking down at you, his expression shy. He pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with surprising strength. "I’ll miss you," he sings softly.

It’s been three months since the doctor arrived at Jeonju camp with you. A month later he was in, and the cure was complete. Those who received the shot stopped being targeted by the infected—it was as if the vaccine turned them invisible. No more running, no more hiding.

After countless tests and trial runs, the results were undeniable: 100% effective. The world is still far from healed. There’s so much to rebuild, so much left to do. But this vaccine—it’s a start.

And now, Hybe is taking them back. Back to the world they belong to. Back to the life they’d almost forgotten was possible.

A warm hand slips into yours, and you glance up to meet Beomgyu’s glassy stare. Your eyes flicker to his neck—your dog tags still hang there, glinting in the light. He holds your hands and lifts them to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to your palms without breaking eye contact.

“I promise to come back to you as soon as I can, okay?” he whispers, "I promise."

You know the truth. You’ll never see him again. This is it.

You already have your orders—a mission overseas to distribute the cure, to spread it where it’s needed most. You don’t know when you’ll be back. Or if you’ll be back. The world finally has a chance, but your worlds were never meant to stay intertwined.

“Okay,” you say softly, forcing a small smile onto your lips. You’ll never wake up to the sound of his soft breaths against your skin again. You’ll never walk through the Daegu home he often described with so much warmth, never see the place where his happiest memories were made. A place he wants to go with you.

He’s an idol—a star shining too brightly for someone like you. A celebrity adored by millions. And you’re a soldier, bound by duty to serve your country. He deserves someone gentle, maybe an idol like him, or someone who fits seamlessly into his world. Someone who isn’t constantly called away to fight battles in far-off places.

It made you happy while it lasted.

This dream—this borrowed time you had.

“I love you,” he says suddenly,, and then he’s kissing you. Once, twice—then a third time, slower. He kisses the tip of your nose, and you smile through the tears that blur your vision. You stare at him, taking in everything—the curve of his lips, the softness in his eyes, the way his hair falls... across his forehead. You try to commit it all to memory. “I love you so much,” he says, voice trembling as he cups your face.

“I love you too,”

YEAR 2030

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly as the news plays in the background. The aroma of spices and fresh herbs fills the space. You chop vegetables for tonight’s dinner, the rhythm of the task bringing you peace. You always find yourself great with knives, you suppose.

A smile spreads across your face as you feel it—a pair of hands, warm, gently caressing your stomach. A body presses against your back, and a soft breath grazes the curve of your neck. The scent of him surrounds you, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

When you do turn, you’re met with his smile—the one that lights up his entire face, even as exhaustion lingers in his eyes. He looks like he just got home, probably rushing straight from practice, his hair still slightly damp from the shower. Without a word, he drops to one knee, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his cheek against your growing belly.

“I missed the both of you,” he whispers, voice soft and full of love.

You laugh, your hand moving to his hair, your fingers combing through the soft freshly bleached blonde strands. “I don’t think they can hear you yet, Gyu,” you tease gently, your smile tender. “I’m only five months along.”

He tilts his head up to look at you, his lips forming a playful pout that makes you giggle like you’re both still teenagers. Standing, he cups your face with both hands, thumbs brushing your cheeks, wedding band catches the light, whispering of the life you’ve built together. The life you thought was impossible. But he made it—he made it possible.

If he wanted to—he would.

“I don’t care,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. And finally, your lips. His scent, his warmth, the way his heart beats against yours—he's home.

He holds you.

The only sound is the exchanged kisses and the faint murmur of the news on the television.

Following the record-breaking success of TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s latest comeback, member Beomgyu has surprised fans worldwide by releasing his first solo album, The Last Safe Place. The album, deeply supported by MOAs, has already sparked widespread buzz—not only for its musical brilliance but also for the heartfelt inspiration behind it: Beomgyu’s recent marriage.

THE END.

#cams!bookshelf #raya!

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jnnul · 2 days ago

Text

tokyo 1988

a/n: oh my god. everything hurts. when i say that this fic took it all out of me...i mean it. i learned as much from this fic as i healed. love is never easy and first love especially is so difficult. but there will always be a way to get up. special thank you to hua @polarisjisung for reading this monster of a fic and loving it with me! quick note: feedback, comments, etc. GREATLY encourage writers! if you felt any sort of way (in a good or bad way!) about this fic, pls leave feedback!

word count: 29.5k (i'm so sorry...)

tags: girlboss neuroscientist!y/n x her resident!riki x ex!jungwon, she's a complicated one, lot to be learned and a lot of hurt to be experienced there’s a lot of soul searching in this one, i poured my heart and soul into this please love her the way i do warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol, death, pregnancy, family trauma, relationship trauma

[tokyo, 1988]

you stand outside the tokyo international airport, rubbing your shoulders to bring some warmth into them. you knew to bring a thicker jacket but somehow, it had completely slipped your mind when you left seoul.

of course, you were otherwise occupied when you left so leaving behind a jacket was really the least of your concerns.

your gaze strays upward as you wait, looking at the downcast skies and quite threatening clouds. they’re angry and a deep gray that makes you more and more sure that it was going to rain soon.

you’d forgotten your umbrella with your coat. of course.

you check the watch on your wrist sullenly as you continue to wait. it was already half past two, meaning that yang jungwon was a good twenty minutes late. which would be concerning, considering how punctual the man was, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to be upset with him.

it’s hard to be mad at someone you’d been in love with once - no matter how it ends.

just as you’re about to head back inside to make a phone call to jungwon’s office to get a hold of him, an unfamiliar toyota pulls up to the curb of the airport pick up area. jungwon rolls down the window and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

he’s a little bit more masculine than he was from your memory. a little more filled out, with more muscle than baby fat that had all but melted off of his body. he’d grown out his hair a bit, long enough that he had to shake it out of his eyes. his eyes were a little more tired but still full of life, just as you remembered.

“long time, no see,” he quips, offering you a slight smile - one that you reciprocate.

“it’s only been four years,” you point out as he exits the driver’s side to help you load your bags (the only two that you had) into the back of the car.

when he’s shut the door to the backseat, he turns to look at you and you suddenly realize that he’d somehow grown even taller. you hesitate for a moment before stepping forward, and jungwon envelopes you into a gentle, tender hug.

“a lot can happen in four years, y/n,” jungwon says softly into your hair. you don’t say anything, not trusting your voice to speak without giving way to the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. but you know he knows by the way his grip on your frame grows just the slightest bit more firm before he lets you go.

you try not to think about the implications of the fact that it almost physically hurts to see him pull away, as he took his warmth with him.

jungwon opens the passenger side door for you, closing it gently when you’ve sat down and settled in your seat.

he pulls out of the airport pick up area, merging onto the highway with ease - as though he’s done this many times before. he’s gotten used to tokyo, with the winding roads and the traffic that far exceeds seoul’s own traffic. your heart grows tight in your chest before you remind yourself that you’ve lost all right to feel anything anymore.

“have you told hyewon that i’m in tokyo?” you ask after a couple minutes of jungwon driving in silence. jungwon hesitates before nodding.

“yes. she knows you’re in tokyo,” jungwon concedes. you sigh, leaning back into the seat.

“i’m sorry i couldn’t make it to your wedding,” you say. jungwon just shakes his head as he takes an exit off of the highway.

“it’s alright. i’m sorry to hear about your grandmother,” he says and you just turn to look at the scenery outside. there’s a slight drizzle as you and jungwon drive through the busy streets of tokyo that slowly morph into less busy residential areas.

“she missed you,” is all you have to offer in comfort. jungwon sighs, closing his eyes when the car rolls to a stop due to the traffic.

“i’ve missed her - and your grandfather - too,” he confesses and somehow, the words bring more sadness than happiness that jungwon still cared for the past that the two of you shared - even if he didn’t care about you as a person anymore.

“i’m sorry.” jungwon stares at the road in front of the two you with a particularly confused look and you know that the look is meant for you.

“for everything,” you continue, pressing forward with your eyes focused on the landscape outside, not once looking at jungwon, who sounds as though he’s about to protest. “for not coming to the wedding. for not telling you about my grandma. for not explaining anything before i called because i needed a place stay. for not being a good girlfriend while i had you. and - and for still loving you even when i have no right to anymore.”

jungwon is silent, and you know you’re not being fair to him at all. but jungwon is the one person that you’ve always been truthful with, even when it’s not fair and you know it’s not fair. because he’s the only person you’ve ever loved and quite possibly the only person you will ever love.

“it’s not your fault,” jungwon promises.

he puts the car in park as you pull up to a standalone home near the outer ring of the city.

somehow, the fact that he’s not upset with you the same way that you were upset with him makes you want to cry just a bit more.

you get out of the passenger seat once jungwon unlocks the door, hesitating before stepping out.

the house is nice - especially considering how expensive homes were this close to the city. it was two stories tall, with a well maintained lawn and a couple of rose bushes that lined the path to the front door. the entire house was white and gray, painted a color that was muted but somehow still lively against the dark tokyo skies.

it was picture perfect. just like jungwon.

and jungwon and hyewon’s marriage.

“come on, y/n,” jungwon says, carrying both of your bags. he’s standing at the point where the driveway gives way to the entrance of the home and for some reason, you want to take a picture of him like this. in front of this perfect home, looking every inch the man you’d fallen in love with as a young woman.

maybe you could look back at the picture later, pretending that it was your house that you’d bought with jungwon. if you closed your eyes shut tightly and tried hard enough, you could imagine browsing houses until you found one that you and him both like. you could imagine making sure that the neighborhood was connected to a good schooling system for your future children. you could imagine waking up in bed next to jungwon everyday, knowing that it wasn’t a luxury to be able to do so because he was the man you’d married.

you open your eyes.

jungwon is standing in the entrance of the doorway turned to look at you, where jo (yang, you have to correct yourself) hyewon is standing with him, watching you.

[seoul, 1982]

“what would you do if we broke up?” you asked, playing with jungwon’s fingers. you already knew what jungwon’s answer would be but you can’t help the question anyway, needing to hear it from him.

“we’re not going to break up,” he said gently, shifting to look at you but you continued to stare up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle in the dead of the night. you’re not supposed to be on the rooftop of one of the college lecture halls with him like this but you figured that if you weren’t rebellious in the last few months of college, you’d never get the chance to do it again.

“but if we did,” you persisted, letting him weave his gentle and calm fingers with your own restless ones. “what would you do?”

jungwon was silent, the same way he was every time he was in deep in thought. it was one of the things that you loved about him the most; jungwon never said anything lightly or just for the hell of saying it. he was always so soft and gentle, thinking every word through before putting it out into the universe.

“i don’t know,” he confessed finally. he turned to look at the stars with you. “i don’t know what i would do. but i do know that i would never be the same. i don’t know if i could ever live a life without you, y/n.”

in that moment, the world felt so big and yet all yours.

now, you knew it was just the foolishness of young lovers but at the time, it just felt like the truth. you’d taken jungwon’s presence, his love, and all of his patience for granted at the time, thinking that it was an infinite resource that you could always call upon.

it wasn’t until you were forced apart by fate that you realized just how silly the notion was.

[tokyo, 1988]

the interior of jungwon’s house is nearly as perfect as the rest of him. there’s cozy furniture placed tastefully, every inch the comfortable and inviting home. the dark wood of the house contrasted with the emerald green accents and the occasional gold decorative piece made the entire house look incredibly put together and well thought out. an elegant balance between a cozy look and and an expensive taste.

“hyewon picked it out,” jungwon says from behind you. you nod, swallowing down any bitter words as you try to offer the younger woman a sincere smile.

“it’s very beautiful,” you manage, a little bit softer than you were hoping. hyewon is silent for a moment, a habit you know she’s picked up from jungwon, before a small yet hopeful smile spreads on her lips.

“i’m sure you see a lot more impressive people at work,” she says shyly, and you feel a tight squeeze in your chest when you realize just how young and sweet she is.

“being a doctor seems a lot more fancy than it really is,” you cough drily, forcing a smile when you see that hyewon’s seems to have faltered, receding into her shell a bit. “but it is really special to be able to study the brain in ways you never would’ve expected.”

at this, hyewon seems to perk up once more, seemingly enthused that you held no contempt for her.

you honestly didn’t. nothing that happened between you and jungwon was her fault. and while it hurt that she was living the life that you’d wished for so long was your own…it really wasn’t her fault. as much as you might hate the circumstances of your arrival back in jungwon’s life, you really couldn’t hate her.

“y/n, why don’t you go ahead and take a shower in the guest room? the flight to tokyo might be short but i know how much you hate not taking a shower the second you get home,” jungwon offers, head inclined towards the interior of the house - where you assume the guest room is.

you hold the bag in your arms a little closer to your chest before smiling sadly. “i don’t get that paranoid about not taking showers as soon as i get home anymore. there’ve been a few too many times i’ve collapsed without showering after a twenty-four hour shift at the hospital.”

jungwon falters, and almost as if to search for comfort, his eyes drift to hyewon. your heart feels tight in your chest when he does. there’d been so many times that he’d done that with you. when you were the person he sought out amongst people he knew and loved, just because he knew he would always be the most comfortable with you.

“but,” you choke out, clearing your throat. “i should take a shower this time. it seems that it’s the time of year where everyone has a runny nose and a cough.”

the tension in jungwon’s shoulders melts in just the slightest as he nods, and you follow him further into the house. of course, the entire house is decorated similarly to the living room, with all dark wood paneling and…heated flooring?

“you have heated flooring even outside the bedrooms?” you ask incredulously, examining the warmth that seemed to be radiating beneath your feet. jungwon laughs sheepishly before opening one of the doors next to the kitchen area, leading you into the guest bedroom.

“hyewon gets cold pretty easily so we decided to get heated flooring installed everywhere for the colder months,” jungwon explains, depositing your bag at the foot of the bed. you hum in understanding before your eye catches on a specific painting faced away from you, so that you would see it laying in bed but not when entering the room.

you draw closer to it, breath catching in your throat as you recognize the painting.

“it’s the one you painted for my birthday,” jungwon says gingerly, and you nod, the lump in your throat not allowing you to verbalize your inner thoughts.

“i didn’t think you’d keep it after - after we broke up,” you confess and jungwon shrugs, looking at the painting with you.

it’s a simple painting. it’s just a crude painting of an emerald jewel that you’d painted after taking a painting class with jungwon in college. you’d always promised that you would show your magnum opus that you’d been working on for the entirety of the course to him when it was finished, finally presenting it to him on his birthday.

when he asked you what it meant, you’d cited his own words.

“we’re not going to break up. so this emerald is meant to represent our love, since emeralds symbolize deep, unconditional and everlasting love.”

the irony of the situation is not lost on you as you stare at the painting until the emotions inside of you overwhelm you to the extent that you feel like you can’t even breathe properly, forcing your head away from the painting.

jungwon coughs before turning away as well, padding over to the other end of the room, pushing a door open to reveal the attached restroom.

“feel free to use anything in there,” jungwon mumbles before rushing out of the bedroom, leaving you there, alone, with nothing but your racing thoughts and beating heart.

“thanks,” you whisper to no one particular, a cold loneliness setting in your bones - even with the heated flooring.

[incheon, 1981]

“who’s most likely out of all of us to get married first?” lee heeseung wondered aloud, slurping from his ramen. there were six of you huddled around a campfire, bundled in blankets and warmed up by the ramen that park jongseong had boiled for all of you.

“logically, it should be you, heeseung, since you’re an old fart,” park sunghoon said, twisting away when heeseung threatens him with the lid of the pot that the precious ramen was resting in. “but honestly, probably jungwon and y/n.”

you and jungwon shared a shy look before turning away, huddling closer in the much too thin blanket that heeseung had brought.

“nah, it’s probably going to be jay and sumin,” you pointed out. it was then your turn to evade death by ramen pot lid, ducking into jungwon’s warm embrace when jongseong (who’d gotten the name ‘jay’ due to the time he spent in america before his family moved to seoul) started wielding the pot particularly intimidatingly.

“we’re only twenty-three years old!” bae sumin protested, but you see her leaning further into jongseong’s embrace, and it was clear that she wasn’t all that put off by the idea of marriage.

“so? my mom and dad got married and had me by the time they were twenty-one,” sunghoon snorted and you and jungwon had twin expressions of alarm on your face.

“i’m twenty-one, sunghoon and i’m nowhere near having a child!” jungwon exclaimed, and you nodded. while marriage wasn’t completely foreign to the two of you, with you having established that having a career set in place was most important (the path to becoming a doctor was a long and tiring one), you inevitably had to push back any plans of marriage for later than perhaps most couples who’d dated as long as the two of you.

after all, dating for six years was usually an experience that people heeseung’s age were more likely to have rather than your own peers as juniors in college.

“yes, but by the time that y/n gets into medical school and jungwon’s in a good place for his job, you’re going to be around twenty-four? maybe twenty-six if jungwon goes to military service right after college?” jay pointed out, finally putting the lid back on the ramen pot instead of wielding it around like a shield.

“heeseung will be his late twenties by then,” sunghoon sniggered and heeseung rolled his eyes, taking another slurp of his ramen.

“i’m only going to be twenty-eight or twenty-nine. i don’t know why you guys make me sound like an old fossil,” heeseung said sullenly, shaking sunghoon’s hand off of his back when he rubs his back in a part sympathetic and part sarcastic gesture.

“you already are an old fossil,” sumin joked, joining in on making fun of the oldest friend in the group.

the rest of the night was more fun at the expense of heeseung, the ramen pot lid being tossed from person to person to prevent decapitation at the hands of the enraged eldest.

you and jungwon hadn’t said anything at the time, just sharing a sweet smile and all too thin blanket.

[tokyo, 1988]

“when do you start work?” jungwon asks from across the dinner table. hyewon’s laid out a korean dinner filled with all of your favorites - almost like your grandmother did for you when you lived in the house she’d shared with you, just two months ago.

staying in the house that you had been born in and your grandmother, the only parental figure you’d ever had in your life after your grandfather died three years prior, died in was far too much for you to handle, which is why you’d all but uprooted and ran away from seoul with little formality as soon as you could.

it’s funny, how something as simple as bulgogi can shake even the strongest of minds, taking them back to memories that they’d prayed to move past.

you thank hyewon when she hands you a pair of wooden chopsticks that have a design engraved into them, shaking you out of your thoughts. they were a nice pair of chopsticks; not just a random pair of chopsticks that you give to guests for a single use. the knowledge that one of them had bought you a pair of nice chopsticks in case your stay extended long enough to need them makes you feel strange.

“i technically start on the fourteenth but i have to go in on the twelfth to get some paperwork in,” you explain, waiting for hyewon to sit to begin eating.

“do you need a ride to work?” he asks, reaching over the table to deposit some rolled omelette cutlets into his bowl, smiling up at hyewon when she does it for him instead.

“uh, yes, i would appreciate that. at least until i buy a car,” you say softly, eyes fixed on your own plate, unsure of if you really had it in you to look up and see more of their intimacy.

“that reminds me,” jungwon begins, taking a bite of the omelette once hyewon’s also sat down next to him. “there are a couple of dealerships near hyewon’s school. we can all go together after i pick up hyewon from office whenever you’re free.”

you nod, chewing on a spring onion slowly. “sounds good with me. i was planning on going on the twelfth so you won’t have to be driving me around for more than a week.”

jungwon waves you off. “it’s not a bother for me. the hospital is owned by the university that hyewon’s doing her masters at so it’s not out of my regular route.”

“you’re doing your masters?” you ask hyewon, who’s been silent throughout the meal. hyewon seems to be startled, as though she had been checked out completely before she nods belatedly.

“yes, i’m doing my masters. i worked for a couple years but i realized that i wasn’t really getting promoted because i’m a married woman and because i don’t have higher education,” hyewon elucidates. jungwon opens his mouth to say something - undoubtedly to comfort her by saying that the sexism of those around her was not an accurate representation of her caliber but you beat him to it.

“you’re a smart and talented person, hyewon. higher education just gives you a certificate to prove it but i’m sorry that people don’t want to acknowledge your talent without a simple, largely useless piece of paper,” you say, voice steady and clear. hyewon pauses mid-bite and jungwon also freezes, his chopsticks halfway between his bowl and his mouth, his omelette slipping from his chopsticks and falling into the bowl.

they exchange a look before hyewon smiles - a real, genuinely touched smile.

“that means a lot coming from you, y/n,” jungwon says and you know he means it in more than one way.

the rest of dinner is relatively quiet, with hushed requests for one dish or another but for some reason, it finally feels as though the tension in your shoulders has started to melt and you feel like you can take a breath of fresh air.

after dinner, hyewon decides to retire early, leaving you and jungwon to do the dishes, even though both of them protest heavily.

“what kind of host would i be if i let you wash the dishes?” jungwon complains, physically trying to nudge you away from the sink with his hip but you ignore him, starting to move the various dishes into little containers once you find the correct cabinet.

“i’m living in your house as an uninvited guest until i find a house of my own, jungwon. i can’t take advantage of your hospitality,” you chide, snapping the lid of the tupperware open to line up the leftover cutlets inside.

“please don’t feel like a guest or feel uncomfortable. you moved to a new country and we’d love to make your move as easy as possible,” hyewon says, having changed into sleep ware as she unscrews her water bottle to fill it up with hot water she’d heated up before heading upstairs.

you just shake your head as you stack each filled container on top of each other, moving the emptied dishes into the sink. “i won’t feel like a guest and please don’t treat me like one. think of me as long lost family, if that makes you feel better about me doing the dishes.”

jungwon frowns as he sets the washed dishes into the dishwasher next to the sink to let them dry. “i’m not letting you do the dishes, y/n. but i will be very thankful if you could put those containers in the fridge.”

hyewon just watches as the two of you work in tandem, slipping into a familiar rhythm as she turns around to head back upstairs, her water bottle still empty and her heart feeling as though it was going to beat out of her chest.

[tokyo, 1988]

hyewon wasn’t unaware - not of your history with jungwon. he’d been very open about his past and only previous relationship with you and had told hyewon very early into their relationship. she knew about how you and jungwon had been friends for years before realizing that perhaps there were more than just platonic feelings for each other. she knew about how he’d asked you out during your first year of high school at the suggestion of his friends, park sunghoon and park jongseong.

neither of them had come to jungwon and hyewon’s wedding - only lee heeseung and bae sumin.

hyewon knew about how the two of you dated for eight years before breaking up due to various reasons. she knew about the wreck jungwon had been after breaking up with the girl who was his first love, best friend, and inspiration to work hard all during the breakup. she knew about the eight months that hyewon and jungwon had tiptoed the line between friendship and something more when jungwon moved to tokyo, a year after you and him had broken up.

she knew that he told her that he fell in love with her at first sight but he was carrying so much guilt from everything from his past relationship that he couldn’t cross the line in good consciousness until hyewon crossed it for him. she still remembers the look in his eyes when she kissed him as he was rambling about how he wasn’t good enough for her and that she deserved someone who wasn’t such a mess. god, he was so in love with her that it almost breaks her heart to realize how long it’d taken for her to really understand that look in his eyes.

so when jungwon told her that you were moving to tokyo after the death of your grandparents, hyewon thought she was okay. she had all the facts laid out in front of her and she knew that jungwon, while he would always hold a soft spot for you, was no longer in love with you anymore. she knew all of this as a fact because jungwon had promised that he wouldn’t open their doors for you if hyewon was even a bit uncomfortable with the idea that you would stay with them for however long it took you to get on your feet in a new country.

he told her, in words that were a lot more gentle and less charged, that the year of marriage that the two of them shared was a lot more important to him than the eight years of love and eleven years of friendship you’d shared with jungwon.

so yang hyewon had said that she was alright - that she wanted you to stay with them as long as you needed to.

but when you appeared, stepping out of jungwon and hyewon’s red toyota, somehow hyewon lost the quiet confidence she’d had previously. not her confidence in jungwon. not when the moment jungwon parks the car, and perhaps even before, his eyes begin to search the entryway of their shared home for her, drinking up the sight of her the moment she opens the front door.

it’s when you step out of the car with so much grace, so much poise, carrying yourself with a sense of regality that hyewon cannot begin to emulate. that’s when hyewon starts to lose confidence in herself.

you’re elegant, with every step you take filled with a self-assuredness that hyewon knows only comes from having been battered down by the world in every way possible and still getting up every time. your blouse was pressed neatly, tucked into your slacks as though you’d walked off a ralph lauren runway, rather than the runway of an airport.

your hair is perfectly pulled back into a low but neat ponytail, mascara smudged ever so slightly so it gives you a touch of humanity rather than looking messy. your eyes are analytical but still full of warmth when you look at jungwon - whether you realize or not.

and then you looked at her, and you’re skeptical. of what, hyewon’s not sure. maybe of the way she looks? her age? the way that she carries herself? her clothing? suddenly, hyewon feels like an awkward teenager again as she looks down, examining her body.

she’d gained a bit of weight after finals last semester, prone to late night meals after spending too much time studying. not so much that she felt she’d changed drastically, but hyewon can clearly see that there’s more fat around the circumference of her thighs than she remembered there being. her clothes are wrinkled at the ends of her shirt - not so much that it’s obnoxiously obvious but for some reason, hyewon feels as though you were able to see right through her and at all of her flaws.

see how she was just a young woman fumbling through life, trying to prove to the entire world that she was capable of being a career woman. it feels like it’s just not possible, though, when she knows that you’re a doctor (a neurologist, at that) and that you’re everything that hyewon wishes she was. intelligent, strong, brave, hard-working, elegant, and somehow, the right amount of detached and attached from and to the world.

for some reason, for some explicable reason, hyewon wants to prove herself to you. prove that jungwon was in good hands, even if you’d broken up with him. she wants to prove that even though she was two years younger, she was still mature enough to be included in every conversation. that she was able to hold her own household - one that included her husband.

and then you enter the house, saying that the interior was beautiful and suddenly, everything makes sense to hyewon.

hyewon was guilty. she felt guilty that she’d gotten all of the blessings in her life at your expense. at the expense of your relationship with jungwon. at the expense of your happiness.

she wanted to prove that she was worthy having everything that you wished for. just as you had everything she had wished for.

and as jungwon holds her to his chest, his other arm running through her hair gently, hyewon can’t help the tears that stain his satin pajamas - something that jungwon chooses to keep to himself, just holding her even tighter.

[seoul, 1987]

“i’m sorry man, i just really don’t think i’ll be able to make it to the wedding,” sunghoon said over the phone, tucking the cup of the phone into his shoulder as he pours two mugs of coffee.

“is everything alright in seoul, sunghoon? jay called me yesterday and told me that he’s not making it either,” jungwon said over the other end. his voice sounds grainy, somewhat choked up but sunghoon couldn’t tell if it was because of the connection or because of the emotion in his voice.

“i really am sorry, jungwon,” sunghoon said simply, sliding over one of the mugs to where you were sitting at his dining table, stretching the cable of the phone thin as he padded over to the table and then having to spring back before he pulled the phone box out of the wall.

jungwon just sighed, and sunghoon felt a pang of guiltiness in his chest before jungwon spoke again, sounding almost defeated. “it’s alright. i just - i won’t have half of my friends on the biggest day of my life. i just always wanted to have all of you here with me but i understand that life doesn’t work the way we want it to sometimes.”

he was silent, perhaps waiting for sunghoon to change his mind and retract his statement but when sunghoon didn’t say anything either, he just whispered a soft goodbye before the phone clicked, indicating he’d hung up. sunghoon put the phone back in the phone box before slipping into the seat across from you, where you were sitting, a blank look in your eyes.

“i wouldn’t blame you if you go,” you said softly, never looking up from the inky recesses of the coffee you were sipping from. sunghoon reached over, covering your hand with his.

“i’m not going because i don’t agree with what he did, y/n. not just because of your - history with him. that wouldn’t be fair to him and it really wouldn’t be fair to you either,” he said, patting your hand gently before lifting his mug to his lips, retracting his hand from yours.

“he did what was right, considering the situation, sunghoon,” you protested, but your voice was weak even to your own ears.

sunghoon thought for a moment, shaking his head when he came to his own conclusion. “no. he didn’t. leaving you when your grandfather had just passed was not right, no matter what you try to say.”

“sunghoon, you’re not being fair,” you tried to say but it was clear that your words were falling on deaf ears.

“he could’ve postponed going to tokyo, even if you guys had already broken up by then. we were all friends even before you guys started dating. it’s ridiculous that he forgot that conveniently,” sunghoon said, and your gaze grew concerned when you realized that his grip on the mug had turned his knuckles white.

“don’t do that sunghoon. maybe that was his way of trying to get over everything. a fresh start in a fresh place. grandpa was always fond of jungwon, like a son. it must’ve been hard on him and he moved to a new country while he was mourning the loss of a father figure.” sunghoon was silent and you knew that no matter what you tried to say would’ve been moot to him - sunghoon had always been like an overprotective older brother towards you and had been the first person to draw lines between you and jungwon when you broke up. your first ally.

“you’re too kind to him.”

“i love him.”

sunghoon shook the hair out of his face, looking at you with a strange expression as he analyzes your words carefully.

“you love him?”

“i can’t help myself. i’ve spent twelve years out of twenty-six being in love with him.”

[tokyo, 1988]

the drive into downtown is surprisingly less awkward than you’d expected it to be. hyewon and jungwon are engaged in quiet conversation in the front and you’re left to dissect your own thoughts in the back, feeling as though you’d be intruding on a private conversation if you were to listen to them speak.

like an uncomfortable guest in a cozy home.

you shift in your seat, watching the skies turn from pinkish-orange to blue as the sun rises in the sky, later than you’d expected, shocked by the inky skies when the three of you had piled into the car twenty minutes ago. it seemed like the sunrise was even later than it was yesterday, when you and jungwon had headed out together for you to complete your paperwork at the hospital.

“y/n, you’re the first one on route,” jungwon says, turning onto a smaller street off the main one. you nod before realizing he couldn’t see you and coughing out an, “alright.”

“my classes are over at three and jungwon gets off of work at six o’clock,” hyewon explains, twisting in her seat to meet your eyes. “when do you get off of work today?”

you sift through a couple of papers that you’d been handed yesterday to learn your schedule before starting your rotations today, squinting as you read when you would be ending today. “today…i get off at three o’clock.”

hyewon hesitates before speaking, clearly not having discussed what she was about to say with jungwon. “would you want to go to the dealership with me before jungwon gets off work? it’s not too far of a walk from the university and it’d be good to look at your options before finalizing a car. unless - unless you already have a car in mind?”

for some strange reason, there’s a funny feeling in your stomach when you hear hyewon lose her confidence as she speaks and it’s plainly obvious that jungwon senses it too when he glances at her out of the corner of his eye.

“i have a few models in mind but i’d love if i could get a second opinion before i get a third,” you say as gently as you can, trying to make it obvious that this was as close to an olive branch as you would be able to extend.

hyewon hums in satisfaction and turns back around, but not before you see the shy smile on her lips. jungwon meets your eyes through the rearview as the car draws to a stop in front of the hospital and as you set foot outside the car, he nods.

thank you.

you tug your bag over your shoulder, stuffing the other papers you’d been examining into the bag somewhat haphazardly as you head into the hospital, not once turning around to watch the car drive off into the distance.

the hospital itself is much larger than you’d thought it would be when you first arrived yesterday, given that it was a sister hospital to the hospital you’d originally been working at had shifted you to as part of the fellowship program you’d applied to.

everything is white and glass, looking as though it’d been pulled straight from the future, with top to bottom glass windows and various, streaking pillars of sterile white that supported the entire hospital.

you fumble with your keycard as you pull it out of your bag, flipping it upside down once or twice before finally figuring out how to swipe it through the glass gates that separated the employee entrance from the rest of the hospital. you tuck the keycard into your bag before rushing through the gates as they start to close on you, letting out a sigh as you manage to make it through.

“it was pretty confusing on my first day too,” a voice says from behind you. you turn around to confront the new voice, only to have your gaze continue to travel upward as you come to face an extraordinarily tall man, who looks at you with a cheeky grin.

“i see,” you say simply, turning back around. the man doesn’t seem too discouraged however, reaching out from behind you to press the up button as you wait for the elevator to arrive.

“my name is riki. riki nishimura,” the man continues and you turn around once more to get a good look at him. he’s tall, dark, and every inch the type of beautiful that makes you a little nervous. the type of beautiful that an elegantly carved dagger might be - dangerous and yet so captivating.

he has dark hair that’s strewn across his forehead in a carefully calculated way so that he still looks put together and yet so casual at the same time. angles draw the harsh lines on his face, with a sloping nose and a gaze that makes you feel like he’s reading you inside out. but all of his lines are somehow softened by his lips, which are full and…currently moving, sounding out words that you most definitely have not been listening to.

“the elevator’s here,” the man - riki - is saying when you tune back in and you turn in horror to see that the elevator, in fact, is very much open and the doors are about to close in your face when riki’s hand shoots out to prevent them from closing. you rush inside abashedly, scolding yourself internally for being so caught off guard.

this wasn’t the first time that you saw a pretty face and most certainly wouldn’t be the last time you saw a pretty face. that didn’t mean that it was alright to stutter and trip over yourself every time you did, and for the elevator ride up to the ninth floor, you’re completely silent, chiding yourself for acting so immaturely.

“ladies first,” riki says, extending his arms in an almost overly gentlemanly way. you just bow your head in his general direction before hurrying out the elevator, turning to enter the neurology department’s office, only to belatedly realize that riki had not only not gone the other direction, but was actually patiently waiting for you to enter the office so that he could enter behind you.

you clear your throat, willing yourself back into the composed, analytical version of yourself you’d grown so accustomed to before opening the door to the office, not bothering to keep it open for riki.

there aren’t many people in the office, you notice, as you enter. there are a few very tired looking interns and residents who are scattered throughout the office, with majority of them taking power naps on the long table at the far end of the office or filling up yet another cup with coffee from the coffee machine.

you duck your head forward to see if you can catch sight of your little office from here, only to rear backwards when riki moves directly into your line of sight.

“are you dr. l/n? the new neurology fellow?” he asks, his hands tucked into the pockets of his white coat. you nod, attempting to side step him to make your way to the office but riki stands in your way once more.

“i’m sorry, can i help you?” you ask, shifting so that the bag sat a little more comfortable on your shoulder. riki watches you for a moment - a moment that makes you feel more nervous than you care to admit - and then he shakes his head with a grin.

“you’re spearheading the biomedical research on the new study on neuron death, right? and it’s relation to age and lifestyle?” he asks and your heart for a sinks for a split second as you realize why exactly his face had struck such an impression on you (or at least enough to render you speechless long enough to nearly miss an elevator).

“you’re my resident for the next three months,” you say drily and riki’s grin grows even cattier, if that was even possible. “i was told that you’d be showing me around the hospital today.”

riki offers a mock bow before straightening up quickly when he realizes that the other people in the room have started to brighten up from their fugue state at the presence of a new doctor.

“i’ll be showing you around the hospital and the laboratory facilities. and i’ll also be at your beck and call for the next three months - you’re the only doctor at the university of tokyo’s medical hospital studying synapses and i’m the only resident who’s on any of the neurology research related rotations,” riki explains, looking all too smug as he does so.

you hum in understanding before turning to him with a question swimming in your eyes. “there’s so many residents in here. how are you the only resident on the neurology research rotations?”

riki finally steps out of your pathway and the two of you exit the main office to walk through the hallway to your office (which was the size of a broom closet, much to your delight) in tandem.

“they’re all first year residents so they have to go on all of the rotations. i’m a second year resident, so i get a little bit more control over the specialties i work in. not to mention that neurology research is a fairly difficult area of specialty to get into in the first place,” riki says as you stop in front of your office, pulling out your keycard to swipe into the small office, trying to keep the wonder off your face at such advanced technology when the lock to the office clicks open.

“i see,” you say absentmindedly, dropping your bag on your chair as you draw the blinds open, pleasantly surprised by the view, as you were greeted with the view of tokyo’s streets filled with people embarking on their own journeys.

“i hear that you’re the youngest doctor to be conducting neurology research,” riki says, making you aware (as if you could forget) of his presence in the cramped room.

“korea’s system is a bit different from japan’s medical system,” you say, turning back around to start pulling out the necessary papers from your bag.

“i think you’re being too humble,” riki smirks, folding his arms over his chest. “i read your file, you know. wanted to see who would be taking over such a big research project. that was when i saw that you graduated at the top of your class in medical school and that you’d already published research as a medical student, two years earlier than other students. and then that you’d finished your speciality residency in two years, meaning that you’re the youngest fellow at our hospital.”

you blink, genuinely taken aback at the amount of research that riki has done into your academic history. “uh…i didn’t know any of that was publicly available information.”

riki just smiles, fingers tapping his arm as he watches you carefully. “it’s not.”

you frown, but before you can ask riki what the hell he means by that vaguely ominous statement, he slinks out of the room - presumably to check in at the computer in the front of the office, leaving you bewildered and somewhat worried in the room.

you take a deep breath, pulling out more papers when your eyes fall on jungwon’s signature on one of the forms.

emergency contact: yang jungwon.

a pang of guilt runs through your body, a dull ache like thunder after lightning, and for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to even begin to wonder where the guilt came from.

[seoul, 1983]

jungwon held your hand tightly between two of his own, tears threatening to escape from his eyes as he sat in the chair that he’d pulled up to the side of your hospital bed. sunghoon stood at the foot of the bed, frowning as he examined your state.

he’d just returned from military service a couple days prior, excited to see his friends (other than jay and heeseung, who he was forced to see everyday in the military) after making his rounds with his family, only to have to rush to the hospital in shock after jungwon called him that morning.

“sunghoon? hello? sunghoon?” jungwon had warbled out, immediately striking fear into sunghoon. in all the years that he’d known the younger man, sunghoon could count on one hand the number of times that he’d heard jungwon be that concerned.

“jungwon? what happened?” he said, already rushing to the entryway of his apartment to grab a coat from the coatrack.

“y/n - she - she’s been working so hard lately because she’s doing research and she’s just started her first year of medical school,” jungwon said, it’s only then that sunghoon realized that he’d completely misread jungwon’s emotions. while there was definitely concern swimming in his voice, he could finally hear the sheer panic that jungwon was facing.

“jungwon. where are you?”

“at the hospital. y/n’s medical school called me, saying that she passed out. sunghoon, i’m her emergency contact.”

sunghoon tried his best not to show his displeasure on his face as he watched jungwon, who had his head down, buried into the hospital bedsheets.

“i’m her emergency contact.”

for some reason, jungwon’s words kept running through his mind like a never-ending chant as sunghoon tried to think. it wasn’t the words themselves. no, the words themselves were…fine.

it was jungwon’s tone. the way that he sounded like he was somewhat in disbelief that he would be your emergency contact. the way that he almost sounded…unhappy? no. no, jungwon would never feel unhappy. he simply wasn’t the type to sound unhappy about anything that was related to you - or at least, as far as sunghoon was aware.

so what was it? what was it that was rubbing sunghoon in all the wrong ways?

it’s only when you finally woke up, two hours later, promising jungwon that you wouldn’t work yourself that hard again, that sunghoon finally realized what exactly was wrong about the whole situation.

it was jungwon’s panic, as if the reality that you cared about him more than he could ever realize, had just set in.

and somehow, sunghoon had a feeling that it was a reality jungwon wasn’t ready to face.

[tokyo, 1987]

“jungwon, please,” hyewon cried, reaching out to try and hold onto jungwon’s hand. jungwon stood as still as a statue, and for a moment, hyewon thought that he was going to shake her hand away, that he would cringe from her touch. but jungwon relaxed as she coaxed her hand into his, and it looked like all of the fight left his body as he slowly sank to the floor.

he looked up at hyewon, who was seated on the couch, watching him worriedly with eyes filled with unshed tears. jungwon closed his eyes, letting himself cry freely and hyewon falls to the floor, gathering jungwon in her arms as she cried into his hair.

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, hyewon,” jungwon sobbed, clutching at her tightly, as though he was scared that she would disappear if he didn’t hold onto her.

“it’s okay,” she whispered softly, tucking his head under chin as they sat, kneeling on the floor.

“it’s not, hyewon. it’s just not fair. it’s not fair to you because it’s not fair that i’m still crying about y/n when i just married the woman of my dreams less than a month ago.”

hyewon remained silent, knowing that jungwon needed to spit up all of the guilt that had turned into poison, sitting deep inside his soul, to finally get better.

“it’s not fair because i loved her so much. i loved her so much that i thought i was going to die when she broke up with me. i - i knew that we weren’t perfect, that there were so many things that came in our way at the end of our relationship. but i thought that we would get past it. we’d made it eight years, and i can’t help but think that if i had just made it past those last eight months, we would’ve lasted.

“and i just feel so frustrated with myself because i cannot believe that i’m even saying that because if things had actually worked out, i never would’ve met you when you’re the single best thing that has ever happened to me, hyewon. the day that you changed your name from jo to yang, i swear to god, i thought that it would be okay if god decided to take me from earth that very second because at least i’d die the happiest man on the planet.

“but - but there’s a part of me that i just can’t understand. did - did all of those eight years mean nothing? did i even love y/n like the way i thought i did? i did at some point, because i wouldn’t have been so broken when we ended our relationship…right? but if i loved her then and that was true love, then what is this? and if this is true love, then what was that? is my doubt the real reason why we broke up? then will i be the cause of destruction for our relationship too? it’s my fault that i couldn’t introduce you to my friends - the friends that i’ve spent half of my life. i’ve destroyed every single relationship i’ve ever made for myself. maybe…maybe you and i - ”

jungwon never finished his sentence, his rambling mind given a pause when hyewon pressed her lips to his, firm and so sure of herself.

and between salty tears and apologies, jungwon finally learned how to forgive himself.

[tokyo, 1988]

you’re unsure of what to say, what to do when hyewon finally meets your eyes.

“why the hell would you tell me that, hyewon?” you ask, unable to keep the anger from staining your tone. “what could you possibly achieve from telling me about the intimate details of your marriage?”

your voice is soft but deadly, and yet hyewon sits, unfazed by the sheer venom in your voice.

“i couldn’t sleep these last few weeks,” hyewon confesses, holding her books closer to her chest. you look at her incredulously.

you’d just come back home after a grueling week at work, where you were meeting people that you didn’t particularly care about meeting, fending off riki’s double-meaning words, and trying to figure out how the hell anythingworked in japanese hospitals. where you were hoping for some quiet, perhaps some peace of mind, hyewon had asked you to follow her upstairs, into her and jungwon’s shared bedroom.

jungwon wouldn’t be back for another two hours, so you had been confused on why hyewon wanted to speak with you and hyewon’s recollection of the first month of marriage with jungwon was certainly doing a very poor job of helping you understanding anything.

“i’m really not following what you’re trying to say, hyewon. i’d be very thankful if you could just tell me,” you say gruffly, and hyewon looks at you strangely, as if you were the weird one for not understanding her intentions.

“i haven’t been able to sleep for a week - not because i was worried that something would happen. i see the way that you look at him, you know. i know that you still love him, and it’s so incredibly heartbreaking to see you love him so much because you need to know that it’s just not worth it.”

hyewon’s words feel as though as she’s struck you with something very large, very heavy and very painful as the wind gets knocked out of you.

“it’s not worth it? what’s not worth it?” you eke out once you manage to find your voice.

hyewon looks at you with sad eyes, an unreadable expression on her face. “loving him this much, now, isn’t worth it. maybe it would’ve been worth it back then, when you spent night after night working at the hospital instead of spending time with jungwon, but you chose to prioritize your career.”

“are you seriously saying that because i chose to become a doctor, my relationship with jungwon failed?”

hyewon shakes her head rapidly, almost as though she was begging you believe her. “no! no, that’s not what i mean. i mean…jungwon thinks that the reason that your relationship didn’t work out is because of his own doubts that you didn’t love him as much as he loved you. and there’s some stupid, dark, twisted part of him that won’t admit it but i know that it was because he felt insecure. all the doubt, all of the complaints about the long hours at the hospital, all of it came from his insecurity and i know that because i love him so much, i want him to be the proudest person on the planet. i want him to always hold his head up, being the most perfect person in the room and - and i just want him to be happy with himself.”

you’re shocked into silence, unsure of what to say - or if there even was anything that you could say at this point.

“and i’m telling you all of this because you love him so much that you keep loving this vision of him that you’ve glazed over in rose-colored glasses, holding onto a love that only exists in the past. and it’s just not worth it, y/n. you’re everything that i’ve ever wanted to be and i can’t bear to see you look at jungwon like that,” hyewon says, tears streaming down her cheeks.

you gulp, trying to force down the lump in your throat painfully. “like what?”

“like you’ll never be able to love anyone but him ever again.”

you sigh, turning your head so that hyewon wouldn’t be able to see you cry, brushing away the tears in your eyes as quickly as they form in your eyes.

“why are you telling me this, hyewon? all of a sudden? two weeks after i’ve been living in your house? are you telling me this because you want me to leave? what do you want from me? are you trying to see if i’m going to try to steal your husband? what do you want that i could possibly even give you?” you manage to eke out, trying your best to keep your emotions out of your voice.

“i want you to know that you might not have jungwon but you have so much,” hyewon says, slipping down from the bed to sit next to you on the loveseat on the other side of the room. “and that what you went through with jungwon’s parents was the same i went through. maybe that my career, or my profound lack thereof, was the reason why they pushed jungwon to marry me, even though we had only been dating for a year. that his insecurity about your career wasn’t jungwon’s issue alone, but the thoughts that his family had been shoving down his throat - but you already knew that.”

you laugh, a dry and grating laugh that sounds bitter even to your own ears. how could you forget? how could you forget the way jungwon’s mother had tried to convince you to quit medical school when your grandfather brought up marriage for the first time with the families? the way that jungwon’s father had turned his nose up while your grandmother bragged about the seventy-eighty hours a week you’d spend studying, working, or in class? the way that jungwon’s bright eyes clouded over with doubt at some point, whenever you brought up the future?

the way that sunghoon had been silent the whole time that you’d been in the hospital during your first year of medical school, slipping out quietly when jungwon asked you why you made him your emergency contact, a look of anger and sadness on his face.

“i still don’t know why you’re telling me any of this,” you say, looking up at the ceiling to physically push the tears in your eyes back to where they came from.

“because even though it’s so much easier said than done, you need to fall out of love with jungwon. you’ve gone through so much in your life and if there’s something that i know about you, it’s that you deserve to be happy. and you’re never going to be happy stabbing yourself with a double-edged sword of heartbreak. you deserve to heal, y/n,” hyewon says, mimicking you as she looks up at the ceiling.

“why now, though? why are you telling me all of this now?”

“i don’t know. i’ve always been a patient person but i just felt like i needed to tell you. it was eating me up day and night for the past few weeks. i just - i just thinking that maybe if my older sister was still alive, she’d be a lot like you. and i’ve never wanted her to be anything but happy.”

“you want me, your husband’s ex-girlfriend, to be happy? the one that i’m sure your in-laws have been completely defaming for the past two years? the same one that happens to be living in your house without paying a cent of rent?” you ask, and this time the laugh in your voice sounds just a tad bit less sad than before, more shocked than anything else.

hyewon smiles through her tears, shrugging. “i’ve learned that anyone my in-laws don’t like is someone that i should definitely go out of my way to talk to.”

“how rebellious for the princess,” you say sardonically, and hyewon turns to you with a nostalgic melancholy written plainly on her face, seemingly not having picked up the dryness in your voice.

“my older sister used to call me princess,” she whispers, voice full of adoration, and it’s clear that hyewon’s older sister was an important figure to her - wherever she was. you turn to her, and for the first time in two and a half months, you feel as though there’s something that’s keeping you tethered to the ground beneath your feet. someone to keep you tethered.

“i’m sure your sister would be so proud of the way her younger sister has grown,” you say, turning away when hyewon starts crying even harder, trying to hide her tears from you, and you two sit there for almost an hour, just trying to be okay with not being okay.

[tokyo, 1988]

“are you avoiding me, dr. l/n?” riki questions, leaning against the inside of the door to your office, having had stormed into your office quite early in the morning as you sit at your desk, looking through some previous literature.

“i’m not even avoiding my ex-boyfriend that i live in the same house as when his wife told me that i need to fall out in love with him because she wants to see me happy after twenty-eight years of sheer tragedy,” you respond, not even looking up from your papers. “not to mention the fact that i quite literally can’t buy a house right now because i’m not a japanese citizen so my ex-boyfriend and his wife are my sponsors in this country so i can buy a house in another two months - even though this country colonized mine just forty years ago.”

“uh…i don’t know if you’re being completely serious about that or not but i hope you know that i personally don’t (and didn’t) condone the japanese colonization of korea…” riki says, his usually suave demeanor giving way to his genuine worry. you crack an ironic smile, looking up at him finally.

“i’m not avoiding you, riki,” you counter, setting down your pen to give him your attention. “and i’m being completely serious. although…i’m not sure why i told you any of that.”

riki hums, ducking to see if anyone was looking into your office before sitting down in the chair across from you. “i haven’t been in the lab for the past week.”

“you haven’t?” you ask sarcastically. “i never realized that my only resident never showed up to work.”

riki rolls his eyes before checking his pager to make sure that he hadn’t been paged before leaning forward in the chair.

“it took some threatening but i heard from dr. watanabe that you’ve been scheduling me conveniently on his rotations more often rather than your own. that sounds like you’re avoiding me,” riki points out and you shrug, neatly stacking the papers in front of you into piles.

“i hear you’re considering neurosurgery as the speciality you want to declare next year - dr. watanabe is one of the best neurosurgeons this department has to offer. i figured you might want to get as much exposure as possible before you go ahead and grab a scalpel,” you explain drily but riki’s gaze doesn’t soften in the slightest, jaw tight as he watches you.

“i’m considering neurosurgery. i might also want to go into neurology research too; i don’t know how i’m supposed to make an informed decision if i only have enough information about one career path because my fellow keeps pushing me away,” riki says and for a split second, your movements pause at the iciness of riki’s tone.

“i’m sorry riki. as your fellow, i thought i was doing you a favor so that you’d be able to make decision towards a cooler profession,” you confess, eyes soft and tone gentle, as though you were speaking to a petulant child - and this only serves to piss of riki even more.

“i’m twenty-seven years old, dr. l/n,” riki says after a moment of silence. “if i felt a certain way about being scheduled on your rotation, i am more than capable of saying so.”

“i’m glad to hear that, riki. i’m sorry for overstepping,” you say, attention diverted to the articles in front of you once more, completely oblivious to the grim line that riki’s lips were set in. the caring tone of your voice should convince riki that you might be shedding some affection on him but it’s not the caring warmth of someone who loves another.

it’s the type of care that a babysitter might offer to the child. like the affection between a young child and a daycare worker. platonic, mentor-like, and just far too coddling.

he watches you for a couple more seconds before getting up suddenly, the squeak of the chair when he does so resounding through the tiny room, startling you enough to accidentally mix up a couple articles.

“dr. l/n, you may be the brightest person in the room when it comes to neurology but…” riki never finishes his sentence, shaking his head as he leaves the room, leaving you just as bewildered as you always seemed to be in his presence.

[tokyo, 1988]

“hey, you guys know my cousin? the korean one?” one of the residents said excitedly, waving a piece of paper suspiciously as he spoke.

“uh, the hot, married way too soon one?” riki asked, flashing the resident a smirk when he groans.

“yes, hyewon. anyway. she told me that we’re getting a new fellow from korea,” the resident continued. riki yawned, looking around to see if the line for the hospital cafeteria had reduced enough for him to go and get lunch.

“…and she’s SO hot, i actually think i got a nosebleed when i snatched this,” the resident said, taunting the other men around him by hiding the piece of paper from them, which riki belatedly realized was likely this hot new fellow’s application.

riki snatched the paper from him, ignoring the protests from the resident as the other men crowd around him, and immediately, a gasp seems to echo through the four of them. and riki couldn’t even blame them.

dr. l/n, y/n. god. even your name was gorgeous.

his eyes traveled down the paper at lightning speeds, trying to soak up every piece of information he possibly could before he eventually lost grip on the paper that everyone else was trying to snatch away from him.

“she’s hot and she’s smart? we’ve got to keep her as far away from riki as possible,” one of the other residents joked, merely laughing when riki glared at him.

“i can’t believe that riki’s playboy antics are going to cross international borders,” the first resident snorted, rolling his eyes when riki’s eyes stare daggers into him.

“all of you need to shut up,” riki muttered, and the men finally seemed to register riki’s displeasure with their joking because the clump broke up as the men took their seats.

“why sleep with seven nurses in the same hospital if you didn’t want the reputation of it?” the resident said, stuffing the paper back into his coat pocket. he’s about to say something else (which most likely would’ve led to his death) but he was interrupted by his pager going off, groaning as he gets up to throw out the rest of his unfinished lunch.

“is it true that you actually slept with seven nurses?” one of the other residents, one who still has a bit of shine in his eyes, asked before leaning back when riki raised a very critical eyebrow.

“i don’t know who the hell started that rumor but i highly doubt that spreading lies like that led to too much of a laugh,” riki replied simply, and some of the men groaned, upset that the rumor of the neurology resident stud was untrue.

“you’re lowering our street cred, riki! if people find out that the rumor isn’t true, then no one is going to want to join neurology anymore!” they bemoaned but riki just ignored them, getting up to finally get his lunch since the line had grown so short.

but every step riki took to the lunch line felt like his legs were made of cinderblocks as he kept thinking about the beautiful doctor on the paper. not only was the doctor drop-dead gorgeous, but also well studied and extremely accomplished for only being a year and a few months older than riki.

he sighed as he dug his hands deep into the pockets of his white coat. there’s no way a woman like that could ever fall for him, he decided finally. no matter how riki portrayed himself, he was well aware of his capabilities and his capabilities seemed to lie exclusively in falling for women who wouldn’t even look at him twice.

granted, there weren’t that many people who fell in that category in the first place, but that made riki’s predicament even worse.

y/n.

something about that name, that face everything made riki feel as though his entire body had been doused in cold fire.

it was confusing, invigorating, and frustrating all at the time. little did he know that it was only to get more confusing, invigorating, and frustrating, just with your mere presence.

[tokyo, 1988]

“dr. l/n!” you hear someone call out behind you, and you slow your pace as you turn to meet the person who’d called for you. you’re face to face with a man that you’ve grown quite accustomed with over the past few weeks in your time at the hospital, and it’s clear that he’s had to speed up quite a bit to catch up with you by the way he’s perspiring just the tiniest bit when he reaches you.

“dr. watanabe,” you greet, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. dr. watanabe flashes you a crooked smile, running his hand through his hair.

“dr. l/n,” he says and you look at him strangely, even with a hint of a smile threatening at your lips.

“you already said that line,” you remind him and this seems to snap him out of his stupor as he shakes his head.

“right. sorry. brain fog,” he explains as the two of you start making your way to the revolving door. “i’ve learned that a neurosurgeon should never do more than three surgeries a day to keep from going a little loopy.”

“i’ll keep that in mind?” your voice lilts upwards, as though you were asking a question rather than making a concrete statement.

“right. you don’t do surgeries. sorry. brain fog,” he repeats as he pushes the first panel of the revolving door so it would be easier for you to push your own, given how heavy the doors were.

“is there anything you wanted to speak with me about, dr. watanabe?” you ask once the both of you are standing on the other side of the revolving doors.

dr. watanabe shoves his hands into his pocket before shaking his head, and then nodding, moving his head in circles from the conflicting motion. you watch him with a bemused expression before a small laugh escapes your lips, clearing your throat to regain your composure.

“i’ll get going then?” you say, feet pointing towards the parking garage you stationed your brand new toyota everyday. dr. watanabe’s hand reaches out, as if to physically stop you before he retracts it quickly, shoving deep into the pocket of his coat.

“i just - i just wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to get some drinks?” he asks, blinking his eyes quickly (due to what you presume to be nerves). noticing your hesitation, he adds, “it’s with the entire neuroscience department! or the ones who are either fresh grads or young residents, anyway.”

“oh, i’m not sure…” you trail off, checking your watch. but for some reason, hyewon’s face flashes through your mind and you look up at dr. watanabe, who’s looking at you as though you’d physically hung the sun in the sky yourself, an uncharacteristic shyness for someone so intelligent.

“i understand if you’re busy, dr. l/n,” he says softly and you bite your lip, debating your options when your eye catches on riki, who’s looking at you from the other side of the glass, an unreadable expression on his face as he watches you.

“no. i’m not busy - and please. call me y/n,” you say, smiling up at dr. watanabe, who returns a megawatt grin as he tells you to also call him by his first name.

“here, the bar’s not too far away from the hospital (which is honestly a safety concern, now that i really think about it) so you can leave your car here. also, you can’t have more than a drink if you’re driving back but you can leave your car in the parking garage and i can drop you off at home if you drink more than one drink over an hour,” haruto rattles off as the two of you start walking in the direction that you presume the bar is. you nod along, tucking away the important information as you walk. of course, you weren’t planning on having more than a drink (or staying longer than one or two hours) so that wasn’t much of an issue but it was still kind of haruto to look out for you.

it was strange that he cared about your safety as much as he did though - whether out of just politeness or gentlemanly tendencies or even a crush that he’d happened to develop of the course of mere weeks and few conversations outside of neurology was still yet to be discovered.

in fact, it was very surprising that dr. watanabe of all people were to invite you to this gathering. out of everyone in the neurology department, you were closest to riki, due to working with him nearly every day for the last month. so the fact that this invitation had been extended by haruto rather than riki was surprising to say the least.

“dr. watanabe - i mean, haruto…is it alright if i invite riki too? i really don’t know anyone besides him and you, of course, but i’d hate to occupy your attention the whole time,” you explain, finding an answer in the intention behind dr. watanabe’s actions when he bristles at the mention of the younger man.

and riki said you were oblivious to things. you can’t help but turn your nose up a little bit, proud of yourself for not being out of the realm of worldly desires for so long you forgot what it was like to have someone like you.

huh. have someone like you. that, you were no stranger to. have someone like you back. that…it’d been a long time since you’d felt that.

you wait for haruto to mumble out an, “of course - i love riki!” before hurrying back inside, where you see riki pressing the button outside the elevator door to go upwards through the glass.

you fumble with your keycard, which you’d tucked deep into your bag, thinking you’d no longer need it for the day, cursing when you see the elevator door open through the employee’s entrance.

you rush through the door, hurrying to stop the elevator from closing on you but you groan in despair when the elevator doors close before you even get within three meters of it. you sigh, a bit too tired too really contemplate your uncharacteristic behavior (you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had the energy to run for anything) after nearly twelve hours of running experiments in the lab.

you’re about to turn around to rejoin haruto, somewhat dismayed, when the doors slide open, bringing you face to face with riki.

he doesn’t say anything, just looking at you with those piercing eyes, a sense of mirth swimming through them as he watches you take deep breaths to regain your balance. and somehow, you can’t find words to piece into the situation, as you watch him from the other side of the elevator. you watch as the doors are about to shut in your face before riki takes one step with those long legs so that he’s outside of the elevator vestibule, far too close for comfort.

his chest nearly presses against your own as he waits for you to acknowledge your behavior - or at the very least, say what you chased him down to say.

but instead, you just look up at him, unsure if you could find the right words to offer to him, tired and every bit confused of what exactly you were doing. it felt as though your brain was fuzzy, filled with cotton instead of brain matter and its a feeling that instills a deep seated panic in you.

this was riki. the boy - man that you saw more of a younger brother than anything else…right? a mentee? a student? definitely nothing similar to siblings, if you really think about it. but…what? why was it that suddenly, being this close to riki made you feel like taking too deep of a breath was too intimate?

you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this way. had you ever felt this way? reckless and confused? utterly flummoxed by the person opposite from you?

you don’t get an answer to your own question as riki just smirks, cocking his head.

“let me grab my stuff and sign out,” he says, not once breaking eye contact with you.

he steps back into the elevator, and even with the distance between you now, you still feel like you’ve just run a marathon with how short of breath you are - all the way until the elevator doors close in your face.

you turn around, your back hitting the wall rather roughly as you try to catch your breath.

something about it all makes you feel as though every single nerve in your body had been set on fire and then doused in icy cold water soon after.

[seoul, 1980]

“you really think that this is a good idea?” you questioned, ducking under the umbrella that jungwon holds out, shielding you from the pouring rain.

“does it matter? we’re only twenty and stupid once, y/n,” jungwon reminded you, smiling when you nearly tripped into his embrace.

“true…so what does being twenty and stupid mean to you right now?” you asked, looking up at him, drinking up every single inch of perfection that jungwon always reflected.

“in this moment?” jungwon whispered, leaning in so close, you can see the individual water droplets that are starting to collect together from where he’d gotten soaked running to get you an umbrella. “it means we finish the soju in your apartment. sumin is staying at jay’s place tonight.”

“how do you even know that?” you retorted, inevitably smiling when jungwon presses a rather deep kiss to your lips.

“because jay asked me if i have any spare condoms,” jungwon snickered and you gasped, looking around as though anyone would be outside your apartment complex at two in the morning, eavesdropping on your conversation.

“jungwon! you can’t just say things like that!” you reprimanded him, but to no avail, clearly, when jungwon just ignored you to clasp your hand in his tightly, running straight through the cutting rain to make it all the way from the convenience store your apartment complex faced to your apartment building.

“but i just did!” he called out over the rain and you couldn’t help the shy grin that twists at the corner of your lips. it wasn’t often that jungwon acted like that - like a normal twenty-year old instead of an old man, as you so often teased him for acting like. jungwon always acted as though he was well into his forties and always spoke as though he’d had at least three lifetimes of experience before he’d even hit fifteen years old. it was usually endearing and definitely fit into the slow, innocent love that you and jungwon shared.

but the way that jungwon looked at you in that moment made you feel as though your entire body had been doused in gasoline and then set on fire. there was something different in his eyes - something that you hadn’t seen in the past four years that the two of you had been dating.

a hunger that you’d only dreamed of in the most private of your dreams but never really seen in your kind, sweet, calm boyfriend.

even the way he had one arm wrapped around your waist, and you could feel the intensity of his gaze on your back as you looked determinedly forward, almost too nervous to look back and see what exactly you were faced against.

the way that jungwon had been tapping his foot, waiting for you to unlock the door to your apartment with uncharacteristic impatience as you fumbled with the keys.

the way that his clothes got your own as wet as his when he presses you up against the door of your apartment the next second that you manage to click it closed.

the way that he grasped at every inch of your body in a way that wasn’t foreign or unwelcome but in a way that made you feel as though he was burning your skin with every touch.

the way that he made you gasp as his lips started to lead downwards - further down than you’d ever remembered them going.

the way that it suddenly felt suffocating for the two of you to be in so many clothes.

the way that you felt absolutely complete and satiated in his presence.

[tokyo, 1988]

“you’re being cruel, y/n. come on, we all know each other way too well and you’re already a bottle of soju in and you won’t even let a single secret loose!” one of the residents cries from the other side of the table at the restaurant all of you were seated at.

you laugh, waving the overenthusiastic resident off. little did he know that you were about half a shot of soju away from absolutely word vomiting about everything you’d ever done in your entire life - starting with all of the secrets you’d sworn never leave your little box of ‘cannot ever share’. but you’re glad that night after night of drinking yourself nearly to death whenever you’d crossed the legal limit for hours you could work a week had allowed you to perfect this poker face you had going on.

or rather, a very precarious grip on your lips.

“i’ve told you a lot about myself,” you laugh, ignoring the protests of those around you. namely, you very determinedly ignore the way riki is staring at you out of the corner of your eye and the way haruto is slumped over pitifully on your other side.

“you’ve told us that you’re twenty-eight, a neuroscientist, and that you want to adopt a dog. you’re not exactly revealing world class secrets here,” another resident points out and you can’t help the drunken giggle that escapes you.

if there was one thing that you were good at, it was keeping your mouth shut. which made the fact that you told riki the real situation you were faced against early into your working partnership all that much more compromising for your sanity but that would have to be an issue when you could stand on your own feet without teetering over as a drunken mess.

“what else do you want to know about?” you hiccup, smiling at riki when he passes you a water bottle, still determined to keep from looking him straight into his dark, probing eyes. somehow there’s a pool of fire in the pit of your stomach that takes you back eight years but you just can’t place the time or the feeling exactly.

all you know is that if you have any more alcohol and you do make direct eye contact, all sense of propriety and decorum would be going straight out the window. and you did not have the confidence to keep it from doing so.

“tell us about your first love!” the original resident calls out from the other side of the table and the entire table immediately erupts into a series of cries and protests (the two women present, who were thankfully more on your side) and wolf whistles (wildly inappropriate and incredibly drunken behavior from the rest of the twelve or so men barring haruto and riki).

“you think that such a big secret will come out just like that? come on, dr. y/n. take a shot and at least slip us half a secret or so,” the other most proactive (read: drunk) resident retorts, sliding over a shot glass filled to the brim with soju.

“you’re telling me that i have to take a shot and i have to spill a secret? how drunk are you guys?” you laugh, pushing back the shot glass. the table groans, having failed to get their mysterious new fellow to spill her guts but somehow you find that the shot glass has made its way back to your side of the table.

you look up, and you regret it for just a moment when you see just how deep riki’s gaze is when you meet it. he pushes the shot glass just a tad bit closer to you, a challenge hidden in the way looks at you and with a sense of absolute lack of control over his sobriety. or perhaps, that was just the way that he looked, with the red blush that dusts over his cheeks and the way his eyelids are heavy as his gaze grows naturally sultry.

and for some reason, you accept the shot glass and knock it back in one smooth motion - and no one notices, having dispersed into their own little conversations by the time you do. in fact, even haruto is too busy trying to keep his head up at all to even pay attention to the fact that you and riki have slapped down a few thousand yen bills and have shrugged your coats on and left.

but it doesn’t seem to make much a difference because the rest of the night is a blur and you can’t seem to remember a single thing after you left the restaurant with riki.

[tokyo, 1988]

there’s a violent pounding in your head when you come to and you severely regret whatever it was that you did last night - even though you can’t quite remember what exactly it was that you did last night.

you remember bits and incriminating pieces as the previous night fades in and out of your mind like a sick and twisted person had to decided to play a rerun but decided to leave all the crucial parts.

you try to sit up but slip, and your head meets the pillow rather unceremoniously when you realize two things: these sheets were silk and that was an issue. not because the sheets are ridiculously high quality silk.

but because you (or rather, jungwon) doesn’t own high quality silk sheets.

you gasp, lifting the covers of this foreign bed ever so slightly, wincing when you realize that you were wearing nothing but a men’s t-shirt and boxer shorts - both of which you did not own.

you take a deep breath, trying to recall as much of last night as possible before you get a migraine from thinking too hard.

there are a few things that come to mind:

you were at a little company ‘dinner’ with all of the neurology residents.

you left said company dinner early after getting violently drunk like you haven’t in quite some time.

you left with riki nishimura, one of the main reasons you got as drunk as you did.

you remember having wine with him after you got back to his apartment.

you remember asking him about his first impression of you.

you’re woke up in his bed wearing his clothes.

it’s not much to go off of but it doesn’t take a neuroscientist to figure out what had happened last night. your worst fears are realized when you twist to the best of your efforts and come face to face with riki. or rather, chest to face, as you realize that riki had, and some point in the night, laid his long (rather well built!) arm across your body, from the way that his arm falls just short of your thighs.

you twist back as quietly and gently as possible, trying your best to refrain from any sudden or large movements that might wake the slumbering giant next to you. you lean just slightly out of the bed to catch the time written on the alarm clock, cussing when you realize that you’re not only too late to make a clean escape back to jungwon and hyewon’s place without either of them realizing, but way too late to make it on time for your shift.

“i called us both out sick. the hospital knows that the neuro residents get rowdy during these dinners - they only let us do this twice a year,” a deep voice rumbles from behind you.

you freeze. okay. this is fine. there has to be a solution for this situation.

attack it systematically. the facts are laid out in front of you. what next?

you decide to slowly sit up in the bed, realizing that there was no way that you could make it out of this situation without having a conversation with the unfortunate owner of the bed you were currently in.

“oh. uh. good to know…i think,” you say, swallowing as you realize just how dry your throat is. “do - do you know what happened last night?”

riki is silent and you steel yourself to sneak a glance at him, only to realize that he was already looking at you with those stupidly hard to escape eyes, full of depth and a promise to something that you’re not quite sure of.

he shifts so that he’s also sitting up and turns so that he’s sitting facing you, much to your horror.

“you don’t?” he asks, eyes not leaving your face even once. you swallow again, pretending to be very interested in the thread count of riki’s bedspread (at least a few hundred, you gather, from how soft these sheets were) rather than having to face him like the grown woman you were.

“not really. i remember pretty much everything up until insisting that you don’t call me a taxi home,” you confess, still trying to memorize every stitch of satin. “i can’t remember a single thing after taking a sip of the wine.”

the silence that fills the room feels stifling as you wait for riki to say something. to put you out of your misery by addressing the elephant in the room. or even better, not address it at all and pretend as though it never happened.

“i see,” he says finally, and there’s a twinge of pain that forces you to finally tear your eyes away from the sheets to look at him. he looks the same, you think. there’s no change in expression on his face…but there’s a twitch of the eyebrows, a look in his eyes that gives way to the inner war that you know he’s going through.

not because riki was easy to read. but because of the way that the same war seemed to ravage at your own chest. stupidly enough, you wanted him to feel the same tear in his chest that you felt in your own.

about what, why, or what you were even feeling, you didn’t have a single clue. all you knew was that you didn’t want to feel alone in these feelings. it felt like after the loss of your grandmother, you’d been alone for so long.

and although this wasn’t the catalyst you’d expected would finally get you to start processing the sheer amount of trauma she’d left behind, for some reason, you just didn’t want to feel alone in this. even stranger, you wanted riki to accompany you in these feelings.

for the first time in about four years, jungwon wasn’t the one on your mind.

“do you want to talk about it? or acknowledge this at all? or do you want to pretend it never happened and bury it?” riki says finally, shaking you out of your thoughts. a question that you don’t have an answer to.

“i don’t know,” you answer honesty. “do you?”

riki sighs, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t believe that you don’t remember anything that i said last night.”

your eyebrows furrow. “what does that mean? what did you say?”

he looks at you, and this time, you can’t even pretend to not see the heartbreak written so plainly on his face.

“forget it, y/n. let’s pretend this never happened, if that’s what you want.”

and although that is what you wanted initially, for some reason, there’s a tightness in your chest that, like everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours, you can’t explain.

[tokyo, 1988]

the torment doesn’t end when you make it back to jungwon’s home. as it unfortunately appears, both hyewon and jungwon had been so worried sick about your whereabouts that they had taken the day off from school and work to wait and see if you’d make it home before presumably notifying the authorities.

neither of them were strangers to days where you were so busy with a patient or an experiment that you wouldn’t be able to make it back but you were usually really good about phoning home or leaving a voice message about your whereabouts.

so when you finally stumble through the door, exhausted both physically and mentally, by the events of the past day, you’re immediately greeted by a teary eyed hyewon wrapping you up in a deep hug.

“where have you been y/n?” jungwon asks from behind her, arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. his tone is stressed, angry, worried, and even a little bit disappointed, you register vaguely.

“i’m sorry, i should’ve called,” you concede, setting down your briefcase next to the umbrella stand as you manage to peel off your jacket and hat the best you can with hyewon still lingering around you.

“yes, you should’ve called. but can you at least explain what you were up to for the last twenty hours that you’re completely unaccounted for?” jungwon says and you’re taken aback for a moment. yes, it was irresponsible of you to get that drunk in a foreign country. and yes, it was very kind of jungwon and hyewon to extend their home to you considering the history between you two.

but you were also an adult woman who was free to do what she pleased, according to your own free will. you were a neuroscientist for crying out loud. you were more than capable of making intelligent decisions for yourself.

…is what you wish you could say.

you just sigh and shake your head, hanging the jacket and hat up on the coatrack. “i’m sorry jungwon. the neuro department had a dinner last night and i had a few too many to drink. a coworker took me back to their place.”

jungwon doesn’t seem to be appeased by this answer and begins to start questioning even further but hyewon thankfully cuts into the conversation, latching her arm around yours as she guides you to the bedroom you were using.

“come on, you should get some food and a nice hot shower in you. i can’t imagine how tired you must be right now,” hyewon says, turning around to undoubtedly shoot jungwon a death stare when he starts to protest behind you.

“thank you,” you whisper when the two of you have moved far away enough from the overprotective man standing in the foyer.

“don’t mention it,” hyewon says, but it’s clear that the conversation is far from over when she closes the door behind her when the two of you reach the guest bedroom.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, trying not to think about the fact that the bedspread that you’d been using for the past three months suddenly felt so much less comfortable than you remember it being as you sit down on the bed. hyewon wrings her hands, clearly unsure how to bring up whatever was on her mind.

“i got a phone call from my cousin. i’m not particularly close to him or anything - so i’m sure you can imagine my surprise when i got the call,” she begins and you start to grow worried as she seems to contemplate every word that leaves her lips.

you nod, wanting to give her the space to approach the topic however she felt most comfortable.

“he mentioned that you had left the dinner with riki, one of the last year residents. mind you, he was drunk out of his mind and he said that riki was probably just making sure that you sober up and get home safe. i just know riki’s reputation so i wanted to talk to you about it. or at least let you know that i’m here if you want to talk to me about it,” she says finally, looking up tentatively. “i didn’t want to tell jungwon because you know he gets about people he feels protective over.”

you just look at her, not quite sure what to say. “right…”

“yeah. that’s all i really wanted to talk about,” hyewon concludes, wrapping her cardigan around her lithe frame a little tighter.

you nod, processing this new information that had been added to the equation. “can i ask what you meant by riki’s reputation?”

hyewon bites her lips as she contemplates for a moment. “i mean, from what my cousin has told me, riki has a bit of a reputation as a playboy. i don’t know how true it is - and i also know that my cousin is very prone to exaggerating things to make them seem cooler but i figured it was better to tell you than find out that you had no clue later on.”

“i didn’t,” you whisper, a hot rush of shame rushing up your shame.

“what?”

“i didn’t know that riki had that kind of reputation,” you explain, swallowing with great difficulty as it feels as though some obstruction was forcing your throat shut. “i didn’t realize that. i mean, i worked with the man for what, three months? i must’ve really been living in a bubble these past few months.”

but even as you speak, you find yourself more confused than ever. what did it matter if riki had this reputation? riki was a grown man and could have relations with whoever he pleased and however he pleased. you had no stake, claim, or even reason to wish for anything over him.

and yet there’s a whisper of a certain green-eyed monster sitting on your shoulder that you have to physically shiver to shake off, unsure of why it was there in the first place.

“i wouldn’t take it too seriously. i just wanted to let you know since - uh - it seems that the two of you are rather close,” hyewon says, trying to backpedal and take back her words. you just shake your head, offering hyewon a bitter smile.

“thanks for letting me know, hyewon.”

[seoul, 1984]

“hey, are you alright?” sunghoon asked, shaking you out of your contemplation. you were sprawled out on his couch, exhausted after another grueling day of talking to people who thought of you as much as they thought of a piece of gum stuck on their shoes. patients and fellow doctors alike.

“i’m fine,” you offered with a smile, accepting a cup of coffee that sunghoon offers you.

“you know this is the third all-nighter you’ve pulled this week, right?” he reminded you and you just nodded tiredly.

“don’t worry about it. i signed up for this,” you sighed and sumin rustled from the other side of you, adjusting so that she was facing you as she spoke.

“yeah…but did jungwon?” she inquired carefully. you and sunghoon both tensed up alike at this. jay’s eyebrows were furrowed, clearly wary of what she was going to say.

“i’m sorry - what does that mean?” sunghoon demanded and sumin just shrugged, taking a sip of her own coffee.

“i mean, you knew that you were going to be working long hours and everything but it kinda feels like jungwon was left in the dark about all of it,” she explained and you looked at her in shock.

“he knew what y/n was signing up for. he was the one who pushed her to apply to medical school. he gave up on korea university to go to seoul national university with y/n so that they could both work on getting her into medical school,” jay fought back and for some reason, it feels like your vision is tunneling as the tensions in the room start to rise.

sumin rolled her eyes as jay spoke, and it was clear that wasn’t the first time they’d fought about this very topic.

“yeah. and then he couldn’t get a job for six months because all of his connections preferred a candidate from korea university,” she reprimanded and you’re stunned by the anger in her voice.

“sumin, did jungwon say something to you? it feels like you’re kinda saying things deliberately but i’m just not sure where it’s coming from,” you retorted. sunghoon sat down next to you, his grip on his coffee mug rather tense.

sumin set down her cup of coffee on the table in front of the two of you, silent as she chose her words.

“it’s just…don’t you realize how much jungwon has given up for you? he chose the same university as you to support your goals and ambitions. he fights with his parents about you spending long hours at the hospital. he pushes off his own wants and needs for you. and he even gave up on marrying in his twenties like he dreamed of because he knew that you wouldn’t be ready to even think about marriage until you started fellowship. and then the only time that he really feels how important he is in your life is when you list him as your emergency contact. you don’t call him while you’re at the hospital. you don’t have the energy for dates.

“even now, you’re only sitting here because heeseung emotionally blackmailed you into being here because we haven’t seen you in four months, y/n. can you believe that? we all live within twenty minutes of each other by walking distance and you haven’t even called anyone. it’s either we reach out to spend time with you or we don’t even see you.

“i can’t even imagine how tired jungwon must be. he put in all of this effort - he changed his entire life just for you and it’s just not fair to see him get bogged down by all of the realities of how much effort he puts in to treat you well and how much you just don’t do the same.”

“i do love him,” you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. sumin looked at you with a sympathetic look but it was clear that she felt no mercy as sunghoon just gave her a death glare and wrapped an arm around you loosely to ground you to the situation instead of being lost in your own mind and insecurities like sunghoon knew you tended to do.

“i believe you, y/n. but i just don’t think that it’s enough for him. and to be honest, there are a lot of other things that i think that he’s so kind to just brush past in your relationship but i really don’t think that it’s my place to say any of that,” she concluded, picking up her coffee mug once more.

“i think that’s quite enough. you’ve said a lot of things that weren’t your place to say,” jay said finally, getting up rather abruptly. he stormed into the kitchen and you exchanged a look with sunghoon, and you left sunghoon’s side to go talk to jay, knowing that it was best sunghoon that stayed with sumin right now than you.

“hey. you okay?” you asked quietly, watching carefully as jay stared out of the tiny window above the kitchen sink. jay was silent, but you knew that he didn’t mean to use the silence as a weapon. the two of you were similar in that; silence was a friend, not a foe and you and him both knew that you being there was enough of a comfort for both of you to try to sort through your thoughts.

“i’m sorry about that,” he said softly, loud enough for you to hear but not loud enough to drown out the tension in the other room. “i wish i had an excuse for her behavior but she’s been acting the same way with me these last few weeks.”

“i’m sorry to hear that, jay,” you consoled him gently, sighing as you set down your coffee mug. “it’s not easy to be in a relationship for so many different reasons. sometimes…you learn that it’s best to call it quits than to try to force it.”

jay looked at you through the corner of his eye carefully before shifting his gaze back to the stars. “you really want to call it quits on an eight year long relationship? you think that’s fair?”

you figured that it was a rhetorical question at the time so you didn’t answer, even though in retrospect, you probably should’ve.

you probably should have told the truth about just how much pain you felt every time you had to leave jungwon’s sleeping figure to creep out in the middle of the night and head to the hospital. about how you used to cry yourself to sleep in the on call room when you missed anniversary after birthday after promotion after the next reunion with friends. explained how you loved them all beyond belief but the only way you’d ever be able to win over your mother’s family was to show them just how successful your grandmother and grandfather had raised you to be.

there was so many truths that should’ve come out in that moment. perhaps if they had, jay would’ve helped you explain the situation to jungwon and heeseung, who were late to the reunion due to work. maybe it would’ve pushed him to be more honest with sumin about their relationship’s troubles, and maybe jay and sumin wouldn’t have broken up three months later.

maybe when jungwon came home that night with news about a promotion to the tokyo office, you wouldn’t have encouraged him. and maybe that gray house with the wood and emerald green interior would be yours and his.

but you didn’t. and the price you paid came at the expense of your friends, your lover, and every bit of warmth left in seoul.

[tokyo, 1988]

“you’re avoiding me,” riki says, echoing his statements from just a few weeks ago. this time, he doesn’t knock. doesn’t offer you any pleasantries about his day or even sound slightly amused by the way that you’ve been dodging him. you don’t look at him, pipetting the buffer solution into the tube carefully.

“you’re not my resident anymore, riki,” you remind him, ejecting the pipette tip into the little bucket before sticking a fresh one onto the pipette.

“since two days ago, y/n. you’ve been avoiding me for the past week and a half!” riki exclaims, running a frustrated hand through his hair

“i had no assignments for you to get done. i already submitted a glowing recommendation if you choose to do neurology research and patient care,” you offer in rebuttal, but you know that once again, you’re doing everything to avoid addressing the actual issue.

“you’re not being fair, y/n,” he says, and although you can hear the pain and just how fed up he is, you still can’t bring yourself to give him the closure that you know that he’s seeking.

“you said that we didn’t have to talk about it if i didn’t want to talk about it,” you say softly, carefully moving the tubes over to the freezer to chill the specimens over night.

“i said we could pretend it never happened,” he corrects, although it’s hard to believe the kindness in his words when he says them through gritted teeth.

“so let’s do that!” you exclaim, ripping your gloves off.

“yes, but that means that we have to be able to exist in the same space, y/n!” riki yells back. you give him a hard stare before turning away.

“just because you have practice doing this doesn’t mean i do,” you murmur under your breath, hoping he wouldn’t hear you. but alas, riki catches it because as you try to leave the workbench, riki corners you against the wall, so that you’re forced to look at him.

“what is that supposed to mean?” riki says, his voice dangerously low. you try to duck out of sight, not wanting to have this conversation here, where either of the two other professors who use this lab space could come back.

“forget about it, riki. i didn’t mean to say that,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

“didn’t mean to say it or didn’t mean that i would hear it?” he presses.

you squirm. “what difference does it make? either way, it doesn’t matter.”

“it makes all the difference in the world, y/n. if you didn’t mean it, then you’re so stressed because of something that you’re just saying things you don’t mean. if you did mean it, then there’s something you want to talk to me about that you’re just not brave enough to raise,” riki retorts.

“brave enough?” you pause your squirming, and for some inexplicable reason, a wave of fury flushes over you. “don’t you dare talk to me about being brave enough for something, riki.”

you push your finger into his chest, angry beyond belief. “i came to a foreign country by myself because i couldn’t bear being in the same country that i lost all the parents i’ve ever had. my mom, my dad, my grandfather, and then my grandmother. and i’m still here, trying to do my best to stay afloat and not break.”

riki is silent, staring at you in shock, but you’re not done yet.

“i’ve lost so much, riki. i’ve lost my parents. my grandparents. jungwon. my friends. i’ve lost so many people for reasons that were completely out of my control. so i started to just push everyone away! the second that i feel like i start to want to see someone in my life, i push them away before they go ahead and leave on their own.

“so when i woke up in your bed, not knowing what the hell happened the night before, what do you think was going through my head? i didn’t know what i did with you, what i told you, or even how i got there in the first place. i don’t even know why anything that happened happened. i don’t know why i asked you to come to the dinner. i don’t know why i couldn’t even get those words out, to ask you to come.

“i don’t know why my heart feels like it’s going to fall out of its chest when i see jungwon at home and then i come here to see you and suddenly, i get the same damn feeling. i don’t know why i started stumbling over my words the day we first met. i don’t know why i’ve worked this hard for this position and i lost so much in the process, only for it to somehow make sense when i met you.

“you frustrate me beyond belief for reasons that i kept telling myself i didn’t know, when the reality was that i just didn’t want to accept the truth that i possibly could’ve started to like someone. the last person i liked was the love of my life! the man that i had dated for eight years. the man that i thought i would get married to. what the hell do you think that i felt when i got that funny feeling in my stomach when i saw you being so…charismatic? handsome? with that stupidly probing look in your eyes, like you could read me to filth? only for hyewon to tell me that i’m one of maybe fifty women who also feel like that! to know that whatever the hell i might feel about you was probably completely not reciprocated!”

your chest heaving, and you’re painfully aware of how crazed you must look in this moment. hair in every which way from the way you’d been tugging at it in frustration. eyes wide and teary with rage and confusion. the slight goggles line on your forehead from a good four hours with them on. the way your lips are swollen from the way you’d been biting at them all day.

yet, he just looks at you, eyes fixated on your own.

almost as though he can sense another rant coming on, he lifts his hands to cup your cheeks.

and suddenly, his lips are on yours. soft. insistent. but gentle. sweet. tender. you want to push him away, yell at him for doing that. but you can’t. even as your lips don’t move, shaking as you try to process everything. even as you raise your arms to push him away, to shield yourself from the vulnerability that comes with being so intimate with someone, you just can’t.

even when you break, so damn tired of fighting him away.

even as your arms snake around his neck to pull him even closer, feeling the warmth radiating off of him.

his hands drift from your cheeks to your waist, pressing your body directly against his own. it feels as though all of the anger that you’d been harboring was slowly starting to melt away the longer he held you in his arms, enough pressure to keep you anchored to him but gentle enough to let you run away at any moment.

but you don’t. you find that your heart is tired of running and so you let it rest here, in his embrace.

riki doesn’t push you away, even when he pulls away. he lets out a soft sigh as he catches his breath, resting his forehead against your own.

“are you still angry with me?” he asks, eyes traveling across your face, as though trying to commit every inch to his memory.

“yes,” you whisper, although you’re well aware that there isn’t a shred of anger in your voice.

“that’s okay,” he laughs softly, bundling you up in his arms. “now that i know you feel the same way towards me that i feel towards you.”

“what about all the other women you’ve used the same line with?” you retort drily. riki finally pulls away from you to ensure that you can see the sincerity oozing from his eyes as he speaks.

“i’m not sure where i got this playboy reputation from, y/n. it’s true that i was flirtatious with women in the past but i’m not a player. i don’t do one night stands. i had a phase when i was in college but i’ve grown out of it. my reputation followed me into medical school and i never felt the need to correct anyone because i never liked anyone enough to want to dispel the rumors. but hear me loud and clear when i say this: i have never loved someone like i love you.”

you can’t help the tears that gather in your eyes again, and suddenly even his gaze feels too intimate for you. you look away, trying to brush away the tears that slip from their confines.

“i don’t think that i can love you, riki…not yet…” you warble. riki just smiles a sad little smile as he steps closer, using the pads of his thumbs to brush away your tears.

“that’s okay, y/n. for you? i’ll wait until whenever you’re ready. i’ve got enough for the both of us.”

[seoul, 1987]

“you know, since jungwon moved on and is getting married, you could also put yourself out there again,” sunghoon said, confiscating your soju bottle. you didn’t even have the energy to fight him, letting him steal your solace from you without so much as a peep.

“i don’t even have enough time to take care of myself. where would i get the time to go date someone?” you lamented but sunghoon looked neither bemused nor sympathetic.

“you drink yourself half to death and then max out your hours at the hospital very much voluntarily, y/n. i’m not throwing you a pity party here,” sunghoon said firmly. you couldn’t dispute his statements. he was right. the death of your grandfather and breaking up with jungwon were both things that happened to you somewhat out of your control. the alcoholism and working yourself to the bone at the hospital was all your own doing.

but it just wasn’t fair.

“did you see the picture of her in the wedding invitation?” you asked sullenly, slumped over sunghoon’s table. sunghoon just stared at you for a moment before sighing, sitting down in the seat next to your own.

“i did,” he admitted.

“she’s gorgeous.”

sunghoon was silent. he agreed.

“i want to move on, sunghoon. you think i don’t hurt? i might’ve broken up with him but it wasn’t because i loved him any less than i loved him when we started dating. i honestly love him even more than that! you know that’s why i broke up with him. and you know how much my grandfather meant to me. after everything that happened with my mother’s side of the family, he still was the one to fight with all of them and cut all of them off when i landed on his doorstep.”

“i know.”

“so then why won’t you let me be sad, sunghoon? why won’t you just let me ruin my own life when i’ve already lost two of the most important people i had!” you cried, but even through your tears, you could feel how ridiculous you were being.

“i love you, y/n. you’re one of the most important people i have. and i refuse to make that past tense.” so simply. that was it. sunghoon loved you and you loved him. he was the brother you’d always wished you had. the family that you wished you had when you saw other children bring their brothers and sisters to the park to play with them.

sunghoon took one look at you before covering your hands with his own. “would you let me do this to myself?”

you sniffled. “no.”

he finally cracked a smile at the speed of your response. “so i’m not going to let this happen to you. you’re my little sister, right? i’m gonna protect you.”

and that was how you finally started healing.

[tokyo, 1988]

“do you have any christmas plans next week?” hyewon asks. it’s a rare feat to have all three of you sitting together for dinner, with jungwon often coming home late due to the end of the year projects at his office. it also didn’t help that you had taken on more patient care work, meaning that your hours were all over the place, trying to treat patients and also complete your research in time for the holidays.

“not really,” you say. “do you two?”

jungwon and hyewon exchange a look before jungwon clears his throat, leaning forward in his chair.

“we were going to hyewon’s uncle’s place in the evening…” jungwon trails off and you can surmise the parts that the two of them are struggling to say.

“go. please. i am a big girl and am more than capable of spending time by myself,” you laugh. more time to get some paperwork done, you think. maybe even spend some time calling sunghoon, since he’d also been very busy with the end of the year projects he had to complete.

“i know…but still. i remember how much christmas meant to your grandmother. i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone on the holidays,” jungwon explains gently and your breath catches in your throat for a moment before you’re able to swallow down the pain.

“oh, don’t worry about that. grandma always wanted me to be a successful doctor more than she wanted me to be a family woman because of everything that happened with my mother’s…you know what. don’t worry about it. i’m gonna be just fine, trust me,” you rasp, picking up your chopsticks again. hopefully shoving more food down your throat would make you feel less like throwing up.

“honestly y/n, i’m more than fine with skipping this dinner if you want to do something together instead,” hyewon says earnestly, but you just shake your head.

“no, please, i don’t want you to miss out on spending time with your family on my account. i heard christmas is a couple’s holiday in japan anyway, right?” you say, trying your best to keep from sounding too sardonic. “besides, i’m not going to be alone.”

hyewon nearly falls out of her seat. “you’re not gonna - do you have a boyfriend?”

you think for a moment before shaking your head. “not a boyfriend.”

“then what? if you know that christmas is a couple’s holiday, and you’re not going to be alone, that means that you’re in a relationship - right?” jungwon interrogates.

you shrug. “you don’t have to have a boyfriend to be in a relationship.”

“well, then do you have a girlfriend?”

“no.”

“significant other.”

“…jungwon.”

“so then what do you have?”

“i don’t know. we’re taking things slow. it’s only been two weeks. i’m not ready to put any labels on this just yet,” you say casually but your explanation doesn’t seem to satisfy jungwon, who just chews on his shoga-yaki rather intensely.

“uh…but it’s a something?” hyewon asks tentatively. you pause before nodding slowly, tapping your chopsticks on the plate as you think.

“it’s a something,” you agree. “but i’m being very serious when i say that i want to take things slow. i’m a bit out of practice and this is the first time i’ve liked someone since…”

suddenly the wasabi in front of the three of you looks incredibly interesting. hyewon clears her throat, the first to recover.

“well, whatever it is, i hope it makes you happy, y/n. you deserve a lifetime of happiness,” she says, scooting out of her chair to start putting the leftovers away. jungwon looks at you with a certain look in his eyes - one that you know all too well.

you saw it quite often right before you broke up with each other.

the feeling that you’re being pulled in opposite directions from each other.

“you’re too sweet, hyewon,” you say, unable to take your eyes off of jungwon - who holds your gaze. he wants to say something - you can tell by the way his grip on his chopsticks grows just that much firmer. you wait, and it feels as though the tension is physically rising to suffocate you…and then jungwon’s grip grows lax again as he turns his gaze back down to his nearly empty plate.

“oh, speaking of big changes,” you begin, getting up slowly. “i have some news for the two of you. i haven’t said anything yet because nothing was finalized but i think that there are only a few steps left.”

hyewon turns off the sink she was washing dishes at, turning to you with a worried look. “is everything okay y/n?”

you nod. “everything’s more than okay - you guys remember the apartment i went to see a few weeks ago? well, i just got my clearances back today and the landlord said we could move forward with the process! i’ll be out of your hair in less than a month, at the maximum! it’s in azabu, so the other side of shibuya but the commute to work is much shorter.”

hyewon leaps forward to wrap you with a tight hug. “that’s so amazing, y/n! you’re never a bother for us but it must be so exciting to have your own place and everything now!”

you laugh and hug her back. but even as you do so, you are distinctly aware of jungwon still sitting at the table, silent. hyewon seems to register this as well by the way that she peels herself off of you to look at him.

“jungwon, aren’t you so happy for her?” hyewon asks, her arms still resting on your own. jungwon doesn’t respond, instead putting the dishes in the sink and then heading upstairs wordlessly, not once looking at you or hyewon.

[seoul, 1984]

“you want to break up?” there’s no anger in his voice. no surprise, no disbelief, nothing.

you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“it’s been a long time coming, hasn’t it?” you could hear the sheer exhaustion in your own voice.

jungwon sighed, running a hand through his hair as he contemplates. “i don’t know.”

“when did you start waking up and knowing that this wasn’t going to work?”

“i don’t know.”

he sounded equally as tired. you swallowed, almost afraid to ask the question that had been pressing on your mind since sumin had confronted you two weeks ago.

“do you still love me?” you ventured. jungwon looked at you as though you’d asked him if you were suddenly glowing and bright blue. and for the first time since you’d sat him down half an hour ago, saying that you needed to talk, there’s an emotion other than tiredness jungwon’s face.

“i love you so much it hurts, y/n. but sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

[tokyo, 1988]

“what are your plans for christmas, riki?” you ask. you don’t look at him, casually flipping through the pages of your literature. not a word on those pages register in your mind as you wait for riki’s answer.

riki hums, tying his shoelaces. it’s been a long day for both of you - riki was officially in the surgery rotation and was being pummeled left and right with long hours and back to back surgeries. his suspicion was that haruto was taking out his anger on his resident but you thought that haruto was too nice to do something that petty.

“i’m not sure. my parents don’t really care for christmas so…i guess it depends on what the girl i’m seeing wants to do,” he says smugly. you can feel the heat rise up your spine and settle on your cheeks, ducking out of sight from riki before he takes notice.

but it’s clear that riki had spoken with a clear goal in mind, with the way that he smirks from across the desk.

“uh, that’s nice,” you manage, clearing your throat. “and if she wants to just stay at home?”

riki shrugs. “that’s fine by me. i’m not scheduled for christmas so i’m alright with doing whatever you’d like.”

you nod, setting down the papers that were blocking your face once you’ve managed to compose yourself. you’re about to say something (perhaps another quip at the ‘girl riki was seeing’) when a wave of nausea washes over you, forcing you to grip the handles of your chair as you try to fend off the wave.

riki looks at you with concern, watching you keel over as you try to take deep breaths to keep yourself from emptying your lunch all over your desk.

“y/n? are you alright?” he asks tentatively, getting up to squat down in front of you. his brown eyes are full of palpable concern and you try to muster a smile, waving him off.

“i’m fine,” you manage. “i’ve just been having these bouts of nausea lately. i think that the sashimi i had a couple days ago has been taking a toll on my body.”

riki doesn’t laugh at your attempt at lightheartedness, instead calculating in his mind. “y/n…you know, it’s been around four weeks since we…”

you lift your head slightly. “yeah?”

riki takes a deep breath, taking one of your hands in both of his. “did you get your period this month?”

you reel backwards, snatching your hand away from riki in the process. “don’t be crazy riki. it’s food poisoning, not a child.”

riki raises his hand in surrender, still kneeling on the floor.

“i believe you!” he says, but you can tell that he’s not fully convinced. “but wouldn’t it be better to be safe than sorry?”

you just stare at him, unable to process anything all of a sudden. you had been having pretty bad migraines the past week. and your appetite was suddenly nowhere nearly as robust as it used to be. but you had chalked all of it up to working too hard over the past few weeks, trying to tie up all the lose ends before the end of the year.

no. all of that was just due to stress. there was just no way that you were pregnant. you were dr. l/n y/n, for heaven’s sake! there’s just no way that you would be pregnant of all things. not after you’d done everything to run away from a family, there’s just no way that the universe could be so cruel to give you the one thing that you were the most afraid of.

but something about the way that riki was looking at you made you feel as though there was a cause for being concerned.

“i - we didn’t use protection?” you ask incredulously. riki pauses before slowly nodding his head and then shaking it.

“we did…the first two times,” he says, somewhat sheepishly. and even as you’re scared shitless, you can’t help the startled giggle that escapes you.

“riki, i need you to tell me exactly what happened that night.” your voice is serious, but not unkind and riki sighs before getting up, dragging the chair on the other side of the desk to the side that you were on.

he holds your hand once more before taking a deep breath, and recounting what had happened that night.

[tokyo, 1988]

“i’m not drunk, i swear,” you promised, but riki was thoroughly unconvinced by the way that you couldn’t walk in a straight line. riki was nowhere near sober (in fact, he was vaguely sure that he was also on the verge of blacking out) but at least he could tell his left from right. with about 10% confidence.

and somehow, that was better than you were faring.

“yeah, and i don’t have the world’s fattest one sided crush on you,” he snorted, somewhat under his breath and somewhat for you to hear.

it’s clear that even if your occipital lobe might not be functioning at 100% capacity, your auditory system was sharper than ever. you pause, stumbling into riki a little bit.

“you what?” you asked, hiccuping slightly as you gasp. “did you, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven years, old use the word crush?”

riki rolled his eyes. “that’s what you’re fixated on?”

you giggled. “it’d be so beyond stupid of me if i never noticed the chemistry between us.”

this took riki aback, sending him stumbling into the alleyway behind him. in any circumstance, riki would be wary of being in such an alleyway in the middle of the night in the dead center of tokyo but he’s too fixated on what you said.

“you knew?” he whispered incredulously. you shrugged, clearly not understanding the weight of the words you were saying.

“that you had a ‘crush’ on me? not really. but i always felt kinda attracted to you - like magnets, you know? i figured it wasn’t one sided if the tension was that strong.” you said it so nonchalantly, as though you were reminded riki that there are 365 days in a year or that uracil is found in RNA, not DNA.

the next thing riki remembered is the look in your eyes when he drew closer and the gasp when his lips were on yours.

after that? nothing.

[tokyo, 1988}

you look at riki, trying to gauge whether he’s messing with you or being completely serious. “you don’t remember anything after that?”

riki shakes his head. he ducks quickly to avoid the angry swat you aim in his direction. “hey! it’s not like i was sober either!”

“but you remembered enough to know that we…you know…more than once!” you splutter, and riki lifts up a finger as if to protest.

“i only know that because of contextual reasoning, actually. i found the condom wrappers in the trash later but i know we went to sleep around four or five in the morning because my alarm went off at five and you nearly fell out of bed because you thought it was a fire alarm,” riki says, eyebrows drawn tightly together as he tries to piece together what happened that night.

you let out an exasperated sigh. “if we were both that drunk, i can’t imagine we were making all the best decisions regarding sexual safety.”

riki’s hand latches itself back onto your own. he looks up at you earnestly, sincerity oozing from him. “i mean this so genuinely, y/n: no matter what happens, we’ll figure it out, okay? pregnant or not, we’ll figure this out. just promise me one thing.”

you look at him, almost afraid of what he was going to ask of you.

“what?”

“just promise me that you won’t run away. promise me that you’ll let me be by your side. promise that you’ll actually lean on me. promise me that we can figure this out together,” riki asks, emotion thick in his voice. you blink, shocked that that’s what he wanted you to promise.

he could’ve walked away at any moment. pregnancy or not, you knew that the blame always fell on the women. especially in asia? pregnant? when you and riki weren’t even in an established relationship, much less not married? you knew that the implications would be enough to make you lose your job, just for the absolute tarnishing of your reputation.

but riki wants to be here with you, and take the fall with you? the fall. oh. you’re gonna lose your job. and riki’s gonna lose his job for standing by you. and then…and then it’ll all go to shit. all of the things you’d worked so hard for your entire life would be for nothing. all the sacrifices you’d made to get here would be moot. everything your grandparents gave up for you to become a doctor would be meaningless.

riki seems to register that you’re starting to spiral by the way your breathing grows more rapid, as if there wasn’t enough air in the room. he gets up, and gently guides you into his embrace as he leans over to hold you to his chest. his chest is firm, and so is his grip on you, but in the way that a snug sock might be. firm but not demanding. gentle and reassuring. maybe not like a sock then.

“it’s okay, y/n. i promise,” he whispers into your hair. and suddenly, it’s as though he’s unlocked something inside you as the tears start to flow, soaking riki’s button up shirt.

“how can you say that?” you sniffle through your tears and riki’s heart seems to physically break at the pain in your voice. he might not know what you’ve gone through for you to seem so distraught or unbelieving of the fact that everything was gonna be okay but riki made a solemn vow to himself in that moment.

he was going to make sure that you never had to doubt that he would be there with you. that you’d have to struggle to make everything okay on your own.

“because i’m here with you, y/n. and i promise that i will be for as long as you’ll have me.”

riki doesn’t move as you just cry for the next twenty minutes.

[seoul, 1985]

you sat, almost numb to the coldness of the hospital chair as you tried to commit your grandfather’s every minuscule movement to memory. your grandfather had always seemed so strong - as though he’d been made out of the thunderclouds that were threatening torrential rain outside. he was tall and still fairly muscular - remnants from his youth as a farmer’s son. he always had a bright smile and a looked like he hadn’t aged past forty well into his seventies.

it was so strange seeing him laying there in that hospital bed. he looked so small and fragile. completely opposite from the grandfather that you remember teaching you how to ride a bike or write a check. the grandfather who’d knock on your door and bring fruits while you were studying and didn’t have time to eat.

it felt wrong.

your grandmother came back into the room with two cups of coffee, extending one out to you. you sat up in your chair as you accepted it and she sat down next to you, watching the gentle rise and fall of her husband’s chest.

“i can’t believe he has cancer, grandma,” you said, unable to keep the worry out of your voice. your grandmother looked at you before looking back at her husband.

“i told him that those cigarettes would be the end of him,” she sighed, but you could hear the pain in her voice. “but he was a stubborn old man and he always used to tell me that they were his one solace when you weren’t at home.”

a feeling of guilt sat low in your belly, like it was churning its sickness into you.

“i should’ve come home more often,” you whispered but your grandmother waved you off.

“we wanted you to work hard and become a doctor. it was your mother’s dream, after she saw her sister become a dentist but things never really worked out,” your grandmother sighed. you paused, your breath catching as you turned to your grandmother slowly.

“my mother had a sister? i thought you told me that you only had mom and that’s it,” you said. your grandmother paused, as though she were deciding to rectify her slip or to smooth it over. the truth won out as your grandmother sighed, leaning back in her chair. you watched with bated breath, shocked at the possibility of having a family that your grandparents had withheld from you.

your grandmother kept her gaze on the cup of coffee in front of her.

“your mother had a sister. she was from your grandfather’s first marriage.” your grandmother took a long sip of her coffee as she waited for you to at least somewhat recover from her shocking revelation.

“what happened to her? i knew that grandpa had a wife but i didn’t know that they had a child,” you spluttered. your grandmother nodded.

“they had a child. your mother and her were very close when they were children, even though they had different mothers. her mother died when she was young so i was like her real mother. and it was all alright until she went to college. your mother must’ve been fifteen or sixteen when her sister went to college.

“i don’t know what happened. it was as though she went as a happy, loving child and came back so broody and snappy all the time. that was around the time that your mother and her sister started growing distant. eventually, she stopped coming home.

“she started to cut us all out slowly, only keeping in touch with her father. and then one day, she showed up on our doorstep with a wedding invitation with some rich boy. his parents had looked at our family background and offered her an ultimatum: denounce her family or be unable to marry their son.”

your grandmother sighed, looking down in her lap. had she always looked so weathered? the lines in her forehead seemed so prominent all of a sudden.

“she chose the boy. she wrote to your grandfather a few times but that was about it. and then your mother grew to become an english teacher and got married to your father and got pregnant with you. she always missed her sister, no matter she tried to hide it. she invited her to her wedding but she never came. i think she had someone drop off congratulatory cash though.

“your grandfather was so upset by that that he forbade any of us from speaking to her - not that that was possible. he wrote her out of the will and never allowed us to speak about her. but your mother, she had a heart that was too soft for her own good. after - after she died giving birth to you and your father died in that car crash on the way to the hospital, we found out that she wanted you to grow up under her sister’s care if something happened to her and her husband.

“the last time we saw your mother’s sister was when she came to our house to say that she wouldn’t adopt you because her in-laws were too obsessed with pedigree. they said that they didn’t want to adopt someone who was born to poor parents and…a child who had ‘killed’ her parents before she was even born. it didn’t help that your father also didn’t have his parents and didn’t have a huge sum of cash to fall back on. your grandfather was so furious at her words that he held her by her elbow and threw her out of the house.”

the tears streamed down your cheeks silently as you listened, unable to even think straight as you tried to process her words. your grandmother chuckled drily, shaking her head.

“that old soul loved you from the moment he laid eyes on you. said that he lost his daughter for only three minutes because she was finding her way back as you,” your grandmother said and you choked as you tried to catch your breath, winded by the realization of just how much your grandparents had sacrificed for you.

“i can’t believe you didn’t tell me this,” you said, unable to speak properly because of the tears clogging your throat. your grandmother tried to smile, rubbing your back gently.

“what good would’ve that been? you are our angel, y/n. our blessing. we got to experience being parents all over again because of you. but that’s why your grandfather and i always pushed you so hard to be a successful doctor. we wanted you to do everything your mother couldn’t do…and prove to them that pedigree has nothing to do with the amount of money you have, but the way you grow,” your grandmother said, and you leaned into her warmth as she continued to rub your back.

“i will grandma. i am going to be so successful that grandpa is going to be able to walk down the streets with his head held high because that family is going to weep because of how successful i’d become,” you promised, eyes red with determination.

and even though in hindsight it was probably just coincidence, there was a slight smile on your sleeping grandfather’s face as you grit your teeth and set your sights on ambitions higher than the clouds in the skies.

your grandmother swore, two weeks later, that that determination is what finally allowed him to rest easy when he closed his eyes for the last time.

[tokyo, 1988]

riki looks at you, beyond shocked at what you’ve revealed to him as the two of you sit on his couch at his apartment. the two of you had decided to move from the hospital to his apartment so that you could take a walk watching the tokyo sunset to calm down your emotions a bit after buying the pregnancy test. you laugh through the tears streaming down your face as you fan yourself.

“that’s the first time i’ve ever told that actually. i can’t believe how much burden has been lifted off of my shoulders by talking about that,” you say. riki is still frozen as he tries to process this incredible amount of information that you’ve disclosed with him.

“i - i don’t know what to say, y/n,” he says honestly. “i am so thankful you trust me enough to tell me though.”

you brush at your cheeks to wipe away the tears. “i felt like i had to explain my spiral from earlier.”

riki finally moves, raising his own hand to cup your cheek and brush away your tears. “you don’t have to justify yourself to me, y/n. but thank you for telling me. it makes a lot more sense why you told me you were so protective about your job…and your hesitation with pregnancy.”

“yeah, having your mom die during pregnancy and then being called a killer for her dying in labor doesn’t really prove to be a great way to embrace motherhood,” you eke out, failing to keep the dark dryness out of your tone.

riki lifts his other arm, twisting so that he was facing you as he sat, and cups your other cheek. “y/n, if you take that pregnancy test and it’s positive and you don’t want this child, i am here for you. it’s one hundred percent your decision and my approval or lack of it means absolutely jack shit but just know that if you want to abort this baby, we will abort this baby. you are the most important person here right now and i want to do whatever you want to do.”

you nod, unable to come up with the words to express your thankfulness. not just at the way riki has placed so much of the deciding power in your hands, but also because of how gentle and kind he has been throughout the entire time you’ve been spiraling.

“i wish i could tell you how much that means to me,” you whisper gently, leaning into riki’s warm touch for just a moment longer before taking a deep breath and pulling away.

“you okay?” he asks, slowly retracting his arm. you hesitate for just a moment before resting your hand on his arm, trying to offer him a comforting smile.

“i’m perfect, riki. i - i think i should take the test. it’ll take half an hour to get the results anyway,” you swallow and riki just watches you carefully before slowly nodding.

“alright. well. you know where the bathroom is - let me know if you need anything, okay?” he says softly. you nod, but you can’t hear him well over the pounding of your heart as you slowly make your way to the restroom.

the process itself takes a lot less time than you’d expected. between opening the package and peeing on the stick, you manage to finish the whole thing in less than seven minutes (which you know for a fact because you count out each individual minute for the last four minutes). the rest of the time that you’re in the bathroom (six minutes, that you also count out) is you biting your nails, trying to figure out how to break this to jungwon.

whether it was negative or positive, there was just something that seems to have clicked when you were sitting with riki on his couch, talking about things that you’d never had the courage to talk about prior to this evening.

with jungwon, things had always been so easy - everything just happened because it felt like it should happen. there was no hardship until the moment that the two of you grew up, and realized just how much you would have to sacrifice for each other to stay together. it felt like when push came to shove, the two of you had been so used to the comfort of always having each other’s presence that you never truly imagined how difficult it would be to adjust outside of that life.

but with riki, every step seemed to be the universe offering you a new life lesson. there was so much growth that came with riki and yet, it felt right. riki never ran away from you, no matter how much you thought you were a burden in his life for all of the unresolved, messed up, jumbled feelings that seemed to weigh you down everyday.

and in the few short weeks you’d been seeing riki, somehow you were presented with more difficult decisions and more conflict than you were exposed to with jungwon over the near decade that the two of you were dating.

and the fact that riki was able to coach you through all of them, despite the fact that he was younger than you, and give you the support that you needed (never mind the near magnetic compulsion you felt towards him) gives you the courage to step out of the restroom.

riki is standing just outside the restroom, back leaned up against the wall as he seems to be reassuring himself quietly, rubbing his thumb over his own knuckles in a rhythmic motion.

“how are you holding up?” you ask quietly, and riki’s head whips towards you when he realizes you’re out of the restroom. he shrugs, running a hand through his hair but you know that there are words he wants to say that are on the tip of his tongue.

“i’m fine,” he says. you nod, almost ready to take this as an answer before a chord of dissonance strikes through your body and you turn around to face him once more.

“are you sure, riki? i mean, this is a big decision for you too,” you say gently. and it’s as though these are the words that riki needs to hear for the dam of his emotions to just break. he looks at you for just a moment, taking in every single inch of your aura as he just stares.

and then he pulls you in for a kiss that feels as though he’s physically trying to mould your soul into his. like he’s trying to transfer every single ounce of his doubt, fear, and love into your brain just by the force of his kiss.

your hand trails up his arm to cup at his cheek, gently caressing it as riki begins to calm down, his heart rate growing steadier and slower with your touch. he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he tries to steady his breath.

“i’m so scared. but i’m also so ready for this. and maybe our relationship happened all out of order and without convention but i just…i know that there’s something here. something i can’t let go of, y/n. no matter what,” riki whispers.

these words uttered by anyone else, would make you want to run and scream and bury your head in the soil, running far far away. but from riki? it just feels right.

you just look up at him and smile, taking a deep breath. “i’m here for you riki. just as much as you’re here for me.”

riki nods and then pushes the door to the bathroom open, where the pregnancy test is sitting on the counter and you don’t even have to look at the test to know the answer.

instead you just see riki melt into you, wrapping you up in a protective, warm, and vulnerable hug.

it’s positive.

[tokyo, 1989]

“that’s the last of the boxes, i think,” jungwon huffs, dusting his hands off as he sets down a large cardboard box. you and hyewon had been a little too excited when you’d gone furniture shopping together for your new apartment so the number of boxes that were now lined up against the walls were far too many to count.

“thanks for helping out, jungwon,” you say, offering him a glass of water that he accepts with a tight smile. hyewon was downstairs, in the lobby of the apartment building, picking up the carry out food that you’d ordered to your apartment.

or at least, this was the excuse that she was using to escape from the sure to be nuclear fallout that would emerge after jungwon found out that you were pregnant, which she’d convinced you to reveal today.

you’d told hyewon pretty much right after you’d found out. they’d just come back home from christmas dinner, and hyewon had been looking so light and bubbly.

“you know what, y/n. i wish that you’d get married to that boy soon. i just visited my niece and she is just the most precious person on the planet! i wish i’d get pregnant to have my own bundle of joy but until then, i’m gonna hound you until you have one,” she’d said, folding her formal attire and putting it away in the closet. you didn’t notice in the moment, but she was looking at you with a strange, almost knowing look as she spoke. you hummed, nodding along as you meditated on whether or not to tell her that her wish may be coming true sooner than hyewon might expect.

you glanced at the shut door that led to the bathroom, where jungwon was taking an obnoxiously long shower.

“hyewon…” you began, a thumb running over your knuckles in an effort to ease your nerves. “i have to tell you something.”

hyewon turned around slowly, her gaze growing serious at the pensiveness in your tone. “is everything alright?”

you nodded, and indicated for her to follow you out of the master bedroom. she might’ve invited you up there to chat but you still didn’t want jungwon to see you speaking in hushed tones with hyewon. he’d been a little distant from you since you told him that you were going to be moving out and you didn’t want to put hyewon in an awkward place if he saw you confiding in her.

not to mention the fact that there was no way in hell that you could even tell jungwon about the pregnancy.

“everything’s fine hyewon. do you wanna drink some hot cocoa with me? i brought some from my date,” you said, trying to calm hyewon down. she nodded, though clearly not satisfied with your secrecy.

the two of you made your way downstairs, each lost in your own thoughts. the entire time that you fix up two mugs of hot cocoa, you’re silent, unsure of what exactly to say to her.

“are you pregnant?” hyewon was the one to break the silence and you turned to her, shocked.

“how did you know?” you asked, dumbfounded that she’d known so quickly. hyewon accepts the mug of hot cocoa that you handed her as she thought, trying to find the words to answer your question.

“i’ve known for a while,” she admitted quietly after a few moments of silence. “there’s a glow that you didn’t have before. at first i thought it was because of the man you were dating but it’s almost…softer than that? i don’t know. there’s a maternal energy that you have that is a lot more prevalent now. you’re a lot warmer now.”

there’s a blush on your cheeks as you listened to hyewon. had you truly changed that much? were you that different of a person? in the short time that you were aware of your motherhood, you had never really considered that anyone else would be able to recognize your inner tsunami of emotions.

much less that anyone would be able to tell that you were growing a new life - a thought that was equal parts frightening and beautiful.

“does anyone else know?” she asked, and you’re forced back into the quiet hum of the heating in the background.

“just riki - the father - and you,” you confessed and hyewon nodded, taking a long sip of her hot cocoa.

“does sunghoon know?” she continued. you shook your head, opting to drink from your own cup instead. you’re not sure if it’s the morning sickness or the realization that you need to tell sunghoon but there’s a queasiness in your stomach that doesn’t seem like it’s going to leave anytime soon.

“not yet. and obviously, neither does jungwon,” you said. hyewon nodded, silent as she contemplates your words.

“neither of them are going to react well to this,” she said plainly and while you’re somewhat taken aback at her matter-of-fact statement said so bluntly, you knew that was the truth. seeing the panic on your face, hyewon got up, pausing for just a moment in front of you before wrapping you in a deep hug.

“but even if they don’t, know that i am happy for you. if you want this baby, i will be here for you every step of the way. they’ll come around. they just love you a lot,” hyewon said.

you hoped so.

“hello? earth to y/n?” hyewon says, waving her hand in front of your face.

“sorry, i was just spacing out,” you say, blinking as you’re brought back to the present.

“you’ve been really spacey over the last two weeks, y/n. is everything alright?” jungwon asks. it’s the first time that jungwon has spoken to you about anything other than basic small talk ever since you’d broken the news that you were moving from their place.

hyewon and you exchange a look and hyewon mumbles something about using the restroom and escapes once again, leaving you to face jungwon alone.

“jungwon, i have to tell you something,” you say with a deep sigh. jungwon stares at you, unsure of exactly how he was supposed to react to that statement. he settles for just nodding, and the two of you head from the kitchen to the living room, where the only furniture that had been set up was a couch and an ottoman.

you sit on the ottoman, across from jungwon, who sits on the couch. but as you open your mouth to tell him the news that had been causing you to be so distant lately, there’s a buzz at the door and your stomach sinks.

in your rush to move all the boxes and all the furniture into the apartment, you’d completely forgot that you had invited riki to come over and help with the move in process, thinking that jungwon and hyewon would leave by the time he would come over. you curse as you check your watch, realizing that you’d miscalculated just how long it would take to move everything in.

jungwon gives you a strange look. “are you going to answer the door?”

you swallow, nodding as you get up, buzzing riki in. “jungwon, i need to tell you about someone and…you’re going to meet him right now and i need you to like him. okay?”

“y/n, what are you talking about?”

you’re not sure what compels you. maybe it’s the fact that this is the longest conversation that you had with jungwon in over a month. maybe it’s the growing pressure to tell him. maybe it’s the nerves. the probing look in his eyes. or maybe…maybe it’s the comfort that you feel in jungwon. the comfort that you felt years ago, when you were head over heels in love, and felt like it was almost a crime to keep anything from him because you knew just how much he cared.

“i’m pregnant, jungwon. and riki is the father. and you don’t know riki. but he works with me at the hospital. he’s a year younger than me and i’ve been seeing him for two and a half months. and i - i think i love him.”

the words practically trip over themselves as they rush out, each one more disastrous than the one before. jungwon grows pale with your confession, before a flush rises in his cheeks, anger so obvious in his eyes that for the first time in your life, you’re afraid in his presence.

and as if the universe hadn’t had enough contempt for you very existence, there’s a knock at the door and you don’t have time to react. jungwon leaps up, faster than you can move, and opens the door in the blink of an eye.

everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion. jungwon grabbing riki’s collar. riki locking eyes with you and keeping his hands behind his back. jungwon pulling riki into the apartment. pushing him against the wall. hyewon rushing out of the bathroom. riki doing nothing to stop jungwon when he draws his fist back. hyewon trying to physically pull jungwon away from riki.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT - YOU KNOCKED HER UP? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO HER? DO YOU KNOW WHAT SHE DID TO GET TO WHERE SHE IS NOW? AND YOU JUST RUINED HER LIFE?”

jungwon was screaming, but for some reason, you can’t process anything he’s saying. all you can do is stare, dumbfounded.

riki just looks at him, almost as if he’d expected this explosive reaction, but perhaps for all the wrong reasons. you’d told riki bits and pieces of your past with jungwon - especially about why you were so hesitant to jump into a serious relationship - but nothing significant enough for him to just stand there while jungwon was threatening to beat him up.

“i love her, jungwon.”

jungwon’s fist just barely swings past riki. you don’t give him a chance to wind up and aim properly this time. you leap out of your seat and push jungwon away, and it’s clear that jungwon is taken aback by the statement when he practically topples over from your slight push.

“you what?” jungwon whispers, chest heaving as he looks at riki as if he’d grown a second head. hyewon looks tense from behind him, her arms still circled around his waist.

“i said, i love her. and i’m gonna stick by her. and…and if she wants to keep the baby, i’m gonna marry her,” riki says, almost matter-of-factly. this time, you almost topple over. it’s as though the sheer nonsensical nature of the situation has knocked all the anger out of jungwon as he just stares at riki. and then you. and then riki.

“you’re…what?” he says.

“you - you’re - you…what?” you echo. riki nods, looking down at you with a warm yet concerned gaze. he lifts his arm, no doubt to wrap you in a protective hug, but decides against it when he looks at jungwon again.

“if you want to keep the baby, i’ll marry you, y/n. not because i think that marriage is going to magically take away all the issues or anything. but i want life to be easy for you. i want life to be good for our baby. i want you to have a family - if that’s what you want.” his voice is soft, but firm. earnest and sincere but full of conviction.

if he was running for a political seat, you’re sure that you would’ve already cast your vote for him.

“huh?” at least the confusion was causing jungwon to steer away from anger as he just looks at you with an almost visible question mark floating above his head.

riki is the one to answer his (many) questions. “i’m a doctor at the hospital y/n works at. i’ve known about her since way before she and i even met and i’ll be honest - it was love at first sight for me. but i didn’t think that she would ever look at me like how i looked at her.”

“youngest in her class to be a fellow. top graduate from one of the best schools in korea. at the forefront of innovation in her field. sincere and dedicated to all of her patients. she was just about perfect in every way, shape, or form. and then i met her in person.”

“she was gorgeous, intelligent, and every inch of a walking goddess that i had envisioned her to be. but she didn’t see me. not the way that i saw her. at first, i thought it was because of my age; the fact that i was a year younger than her. or perhaps that i wasn’t nearly as accomplished as her. or even that i scared her. i didn’t know what it was.”

“then one day, she casually mentioned you - jungwon - and her living situation. she mentioned in passing, like she wasn’t thinking about it but for some reason, it was stuck in my head. and then i realized that she didn’t see me because she wasn’t seeing any man - any man but you. so i tried to give up. i tried to forget it but when you know, you just know. no matter what i did to try and push away my attraction - writing it off as lust or just puppy love, i couldn’t. i was in deep.”

“and then…she walked into the hospital and suddenly i just knew. knew that even if she wasn’t completely over you, maybe i had a chance. maybe she would open her eyes and look at me - see me for me. see me the way i had been seeing her the whole time.”

“imagine my surprise when she confessed, drunk out of her mind, that she saw me at least somewhat like i saw her. we were both at the neuro department’s dinner and had one too many drinks. and with that confession and all that alcohol, one thing led to another and…we…slept together. i woke up with the woman of my dreams in my bed and i was beyond ecstatic - did this mean that we could progress past the relationship of a fellow and her resident? did she see me as a man instead of an immature person who followed her around?”

“she said she wanted to forget it ever happened. i didn’t know what to do. it felt like my entire world was crumbling to pieces. i had hoped, dreamed, and twisted my heart into so many different shapes that i didn’t think it could handle any more bending before breaking. did she just see me as a one night stand? or worse…did she even know that it was me? was her confession just an alcohol induced babble? i was lost. and then she stopped talking to me. avoided me when i came to talk to her. pretended she didn’t see my pages. assigned me to so many surgeries, i was too tired to search for her.”

“there were more times than i can count that i staked out in front of her office, determined to catch her and confront her. only to fall asleep before i could. i always woke up to a warm jacket wrapped around my shoulders and another intern waking me up to tell me to sleep in the on call room. i knew she cared - i just didn’t know why she was running away.”

“and then she kissed me and suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. she kissed me, she was in my arms, she was running and she chose to come back. and that’s all that mattered. everything else, i would figure out. i would help her fix it all. not because she needed me or my help. but because i wanted nothing more than to be hers. i wanted to be in every inch of her life that she would let me touch. i just wanted her to trust me and tell me everything that she’d been afraid of, excited for, and ever in love with. i wanted her past, to heal her. i wanted her future, to be a part of it. and i wanted her present, because i wanted her to realize just how beautiful she was. inside and out.”

“then came the pregnancy. when she was taking the test, i was nervous. not because i didn’t want a family with her. no. i knew from the moment she ran up to the elevator, flummoxed by the badging in system that she was the woman i wanted to marry. but i was nervous because i was scared she would run again. and this time, i was scared that she would run away from me. and there wasn’t a thought scarier than that. but she didn’t. she looked at one of the most frightening moments i can only imagine straight in the eyes, grabbed my hands, and decided to run headfirst.”

“i want to marry her, jungwon. she was my inspiration to be a better man before i ever even met her. when i was just her resident, there wasn’t an effort i spared to try and impress her so that she would notice me as anything other than just her resident. when we became something more, there wasn’t a star i didn’t thank for getting so lucky with her. and then when she became pregnant, there wasn’t a god i didn’t pray to that we would get through this and she would let me stand by her side. i want to marry her because she’s been in every beat of my heart since i started counting the moments that i have with her. i want to marry her because she’s been in every dream since i developed dreams beyond just waking up every morning. i want to marry her because i want to be there for her in all of her moments. when she’s sad, angry, happy, upset, frustrated, ecstatic, proud. i want to just be there for her in it all.”

“and as much as i hate it, this world won’t look kindly upon her if she were to give birth without a ring on her finger. to me, marriage is just a paper to declare something that i already know: i found the love of my life. but i want nothing more than for her success to be expressed in its fullest. i want people to look at her with all of the respect and love that she deserves. and if this world were any more fair, they would regardless of a baby. but if they won’t, i’ll do everything to protect her - and our child.”

for the first time in a very long time, your heart has never felt so light. even with everything, this was enough for you. you throw your arms around riki, not caring for who was watching or what they were thinking, tears streaming down your face.

“will you marry me?” he whispers into your hair, and you feel the weight of the velvet box in his pocket when he says the words. so tender. so gentle. so forgiving.

“i will, riki. i’ll marry you."

[tokyo, 1989]

jungwon doesn’t look at you. the door to the bedroom that the two of you are sitting is closed but you’re well aware that hyewon and riki have already left the apartment. they’d mumbled some excuse or another as they herded you and jungwon into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.

you look at jungwon, trying to memorize every curve and line of his face. not in the way that you used to, hoping that if you stared at him for long enough, you’d be able to commit his face to memory to carry you through long nights studying and clinical shifts.

just…because you forgot what it was like to search through every dip and curve of his face to read him. it had been so long since you’d felt like wanting to do so.

“you’re going to marry him?” he still doesn’t look at you.

“i’m gonna marry him,” you affirm. “he’s a good man, jungwon.”

jungwon sighs, hanging his head low between his knees. you look away, almost ashamed of causing jungwon to feel like he has to do so. it isn’t for another few moments that you realize that jungwon is crying.

as if there hadn’t been enough shocking moments today, jungwon’s shoulders start shaking as his sniffles grow louder.

“are you - are you crying?” you ask. it’s a stupid question but the universe has thrown one too many curveballs today.

jungwon doesn’t answer, but his cries grow even louder, despite his best attempts to conceal them. you watch for just a second longer before scooting over, weaving in between the boxes scattered across the room. you pause…but then you hug jungwon.

it was strange. it was jungwon that you were hugging. your jungwon. your first boyfriend. your first chance at universe’s best gift. your first love. but it didn’t feel the same. something had changed. it felt like you were hugging an old friend, one that you were greeting after years apart.

someone who’s changed in the absence but cares about you just the same.

“where did all fall apart, y/n? i couldn’t be happier with hyewon. she’s everything that i’ve ever needed. she loves me despite my flaws and my faults. she’s the most patient, loving woman i have ever had the pleasure of loving in life. she’s everything to me. she’s my everything. i couldn’t live without her but…where did…where did we end? was it the day we broke up? the day that you and sumin fought? when my parents confronted your grandparents? when your grandfather died? when we committed to the same college?”

you’re silent, unsure of what to say. when had it all fallen apart? but when you try to pinpoint a singular moment, you find that you’re unable to.

“i don’t know, jungwon. but you’re never going to stop being important to me,” you admit. “you’re always going to be my first love. and we have grown apart, into different people. i know it’s strange. but…i think it was meant to happen. it feels strange that someone who was my entire world is someone that i can walk away from - into a new apartment and into a new life. but trust me when i say this jungwon: i will always be here for you. think of us going back to the start. we never fell apart; we’re just going back to the way things were supposed to be. we’re going back to being friends.”

“i thought that you stopped loving me. i thought i stopped loving you. i was dead wrong about myself - i don’t think that i could ever stop loving you,” jungwon confesses. you smile, despite the tears in both of your eyes.

“jungwon. you know that it’s not the same. i will always love you. but i’m not in love with you. and you love me. but you’re not in love with me. i’m in love with riki, the man who challenges me and supports me in every way possible. you are in love with hyewon, the woman who inspires you to be a better man everyday.”

“this is all so complicated.”

“it’s life and we’re humans, jungwon. it’s all meant to be complicated.”

“how the hell are you gonna break this to sunghoon?”

“i was hoping i could leave that to you.”

“he already hates me. i’ll be sure to invite you to my funeral though.”

[tokyo, 1988]

“i hope to find love again,” you said, kissing the coin in your hand before flipping it into the fountain before sighing, gathering your bags as you headed towards the hospital to sign your paperwork.

on the opposite side of the fountain, unbeknownst to the you, a tall man stands, holding a coin tightly in his fist.

“i hope she’ll love me back one day,” riki wished, flipping the coin into the fountain.

maybe it was luck. maybe it was fate. or maybe it was the will of the universe when the coin flips onto the fountain and lands right next to where a young, heartbroken woman’s coin had fallen.

the two of you walk in opposite directions but life has a funny way of working out. between gray clouds and broken hearts and reconciliation, tokyo in the year 1988 would prove to be the year that everything fell apart and seemingly fixed itself all over again.

because that’s life. and life is beautiful, messy, complicated, and full of love if you know where to look.

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