Chapter Text
Im Sol’s foot slipped before she even realised it. For a split second, there was nothing beneath her—just air, panic, and the sharp certainty that she was about to fall.
And then—
Warmth.
A pair of arms caught her firmly around the waist before gravity could claim her. Her body jolted against someone else’s, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs.
“Nice catch!” says one of the passersby behind her.
“Hey—are you okay?!”
The voice hit her harder than the fall ever could have. Her entire body went still.
No. It couldn’t be—
Slowly, almost afraid of what she might see, Im Sol lifted her head.
It was him. Sunjae.
Up close like this, his face was clearer than she remembered—eyes wide with concern, brows drawn together, his grip still steady around her as if letting go might break something.
“…Im Sol?”
The moment their eyes met, something inside her gave way.
She didn’t pull back.
She didn’t run.
“Sunjae-ah.”
And then the tears came.
Suddenly. Helplessly.
“Wait—are you hurt?” he asked, his voice shifting, urgency creeping in. “Did you hit your head?”
She shook her head quickly, but it only made things worse. The tears blurred her vision, spilling faster than she could control.
Why now?
Why here?
“Hey… hey, why are you crying?”
He sounded confused. Of course he was. How could he understand something she barely understood herself?
She tried to speak, but her throat closed up, the words dissolving before they could form. All that came out was a broken breath.
For a moment, he hesitated.
She felt it—the slight change in his hold, the uncertainty creeping into his touch.
“Did I… scare you?”
The question cut through her. Her eyes widened, lifting to his face.
He had already started to let go.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, misreading everything. “I didn’t mean to grab you like that. I just—you were falling…”
His hand loosened, then withdrew completely. The space between them felt immediate. Cold.
“It’s okay,” he added, quieter now. “You don’t have to—I won’t come closer.”
No.
The word surged through her before she could stop it. Her hand shot out, fingers catching his sleeve.
“Don’t—”
Her voice came out fragile, barely holding together.
(At this point, after seeing the girl was back on the ground safe & sound, the crowd had dispersed without Sunjae & Sol realising.)
Sunjae froze. The distance he had tried to create collapsed in an instant, replaced by something far more uncertain.
“Then… why are you crying?” he asked.
This time, softer. Careful. As if the answer might break something.
Im Sol stared at him through tear-filled eyes, her grip tightening without her noticing.
How was she supposed to explain this? That seeing him like this—alive, close, real—felt like something she wasn’t allowed to have?
That every instinct in her told her to run, but she couldn’t move?
That it was him. Always him. Her lips trembled.
“Because…” she whispered.
The words felt too small for what she was trying to say. “Because… It’s you.”
Silence followed. Not empty—but heavy. Full of everything she couldn’t explain.
Sunjae’s expression shifted, confusion deepening rather than fading.
“…What does that mean?”
She shook her head quickly, panic rising again.
“I shouldn’t…” Her voice broke. “I really shouldn’t…”
And yet—
Her hand didn’t let go of him.
Sunjae didn’t pull away.
That was the first thing she noticed. Even after her words—strange, incomplete, impossible to understand—he stayed exactly where he was, his sleeve still caught in her trembling hand.
He could have stepped back.
He should have.
But he didn’t.
“…I don’t get it,” he admitted quietly.
There was no accusation in his voice. Just confusion. And something softer—something that made her chest tighten even more.
Im Sol swallowed hard.
Of course, he didn’t understand. How could he?
He didn’t know about the future that hadn’t happened yet.
Didn’t know about the nights she had spent crying over him.
Didn’t know that the boy standing in front of her now was someone she had already lost once.
Her grip loosened slightly.
This wasn’t right.
She wasn’t supposed to be here like this—standing this close, holding onto him, letting herself feel this much. That wasn’t why she had come back.
I came back to save him.
The thought cut through her emotions like something sharp and necessary.
To save Sunjae…
And—
Her breath hitched.
To stop him.
Kim Young-Soo.
Even thinking the name made her stomach twist. A shadow she couldn’t see yet, but one she knew was already moving toward them. Toward her.
Toward the moment everything would go wrong.
Her fingers tightened again around Sunjae’s sleeve without her realising.
Originally, she had thought to try to handle everything alone. Having accepted her ignominious fate of falling into Kim Young-Soo’s hands.
Avoiding him. Pushing him away. Pretending distance would protect him.
Her eyes flickered up to his face. He was still watching her carefully, like he was trying to solve something that didn’t make sense.
A slow, terrifying realisation settled in.
I can’t do this alone. Sunjae… it’d be better if he’s aware, so he could protect himself too. He deserves to know. It’s his life, too, that’s at stake.
The thought scared her almost as much as what was coming.
Because staying close to him… meant risking everything she had been trying to prevent.
But walking away? Her grip steadied.
When she spoke again, her voice was still soft—but no longer breaking.
“…Then don’t understand it.”
Sunjae blinked slightly, caught off guard. “What?”
Im Sol took a small step closer instead of back. This time, the distance was closed because she chose it.
“You don’t have to understand,” she said, her gaze finally steady on his. “Just… stay with me.”
The words hung between them. Simple. But not at all.
Sunjae searched her face, clearly trying to decide if he had heard her right.
“Stay… with you?” he repeated.
She nodded. Her heart was still racing, but something inside her had shifted—settled into place with quiet certainty.
“If I ask you to stay with me,” she continued carefully, “will you?”
There it was. No explanation. No context. Just a question that made no sense—and yet meant everything.
Sunjae let out a small, disbelieving breath.
“You’re crying,” he said. “You won’t tell me why. And now you’re asking me to just… stay with you?”
There was the confusion again. But he still hadn’t pulled away.
Im Sol managed the faintest, fragile smile.
“I know it sounds weird,” it sounds insane, she corrected silently. “...and I can explain later. But I’m serious.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The world around them felt distant & muted, like everything else had faded out, leaving only this moment suspended between them.
Then—
“…Okay.”
The answer came before she expected it.
Her eyes widened slightly. “Okay?” she repeated.
Sunjae shrugged lightly, though his expression was anything but casual.
“I don’t understand you at all,” he admitted. “But…” He hesitated, then added, “You look like you need someone to stay.”
Something in her chest tightened painfully at that. He didn’t know how right he was. He didn’t know that staying close to him might be the only way they both survived what was coming.
That being near him could change everything. Or ruin everything. “Then stay,” she said again, quieter this time.
Not a request anymore. A decision. Her decision.
Because this time, she wouldn’t run.
She wouldn’t push him away and pretend it was for his sake.
She would keep him close.
Protect him where she could see him.
Protect herself where he couldn't reach her.
And somewhere in the distance of her thoughts, like a warning she couldn’t ignore—
Kim Young-soo was still out there. Waiting.
Im Sol’s fingers slowly loosened from Sunjae’s sleeve, but she didn’t step away.
Not this time.
~
Sunjae didn’t move. He had said he would stay—and he meant it—but that didn’t stop everything in his mind from shifting, rearranging, trying to make sense of something that refused to fit.
Because none of this made sense—not her tears, not the way she had grabbed him like she was afraid he’d disappear. And definitely not, “Stay.”
His gaze lingered on her, sharper now, more searching. Just last year— No. Not even that long ago.
His chest tightened slightly as the memory surfaced, uninvited but vivid.
The hospital. Fluorescent lights that were too bright. The faint smell of antiseptic in the air. Her sitting there, small and exhausted, outside her mother’s room.
And him—standing in front of her, heart in his throat, saying the one thing he had built the courage to say out loud. He had meant it. Every word.
And she had—
Sunjae’s jaw tightened. She had looked at him as if she didn’t even know him.
Not just rejection. That would have been easier to understand.
No—she had pushed him away completely. Acted cold. Distant. Like everything between them had been something he imagined on his own.
After that, she avoided him.
If he showed up, she left.
If he spoke, she cut the conversation short.
If their eyes met—
She looked away first. Every single time.
At first, he thought he had done something wrong. Then he thought… maybe he had just misunderstood everything. That whatever he thought was there between them… wasn’t real. He had told himself to stop.
To give her space.
To let it go.
And he had tried. He really had.
So then— What was this?
Sunjae looked at her again, properly this time.
She was still standing close. Too close for someone who had spent months avoiding him. Her eyes were calmer now, but there were still traces of tears clinging to her lashes.
And she hadn’t stepped away.
If anything… she seemed more certain now than she had a moment ago.
That unsettled him more than anything. What had happened to her?
“…You’re really serious,” he said slowly. It wasn’t quite a question.
Im Sol nodded. No hesitation.
“Can I ask you something?” he said.
She stiffened ever so slightly. He noticed.
“You’ve been avoiding me for months,” he continued, his voice steady but quieter now. “After that night. The hospital.”
There it was.
He watched her carefully. Her expression flickered.
“You acted like you didn’t know me,” he went on. “Like I was just… someone you had to deal with.” Not angry. But not unaffected either.
“I thought…” He exhaled softly, shaking his head. “No, I knew you didn’t want anything to do with me.”
A pause.
Then, more quietly— “So why now?”
The question settled between them, heavier than anything he’d said before. Because this—this mattered. Not just what she was asking now. But everything that had come before it. Sunjae wasn’t asking out of curiosity. He needed something that made sense. Because the way she was looking at him right now—
It wasn’t the look of someone who didn’t know him. It wasn’t even the look of someone who simply liked him. It was something deeper.
More desperate. Like she had been holding onto something for a long time—and had finally decided to stop letting go. He moved slightly closer, his gaze softened.
“If I stay,” he said, careful with every word, “I need to know what changed. Or at least tell me if I did something wrong.”
There it was again—that quiet, unspoken hurt he hadn’t fully let himself feel until now.
Not dramatic. Not loud. Just real. He’d already accepted her rejection of his confession, thinking she was going through a lot at that time. But a part of him couldn’t ignore her avoidance of him after that. As if what they’d had before everything that happened hadn’t mattered to her.
Sunjae held her gaze, steady and patient. Waiting.
~
Im Sol didn’t answer right away.
Sunjae’s question lingered in the air between them, steady and unavoidable. She had expected that after her second time-slip, leaving her mother, grandmother, and Sunjae confused with her sudden personality change.
Her fingers curled slightly at her side, grounding herself. You can’t tell him everything.
Not about the future.
Not about what happens to him.
Not about the nights she spent wishing for a chance to come back—just to fix it.
But she couldn’t lie either. Not to him.
Her gaze lifted, meeting his. “I didn’t change all at once,” she said slowly.
Sunjae’s expression didn’t shift, but she could tell he was listening carefully.
“It’s just…” She hesitated, searching for words that were true—but not too true. “There were things I didn’t understand before. Things I couldn’t say.”
Her voice softened.
“About myself and about what I might lose if I keep pretending things don’t matter. But you matter, Sunjae-ah. Always have. I was in a lot of pain”
Sunjae’s eyes flickered slightly at that.
She saw it—but kept going.
“I thought… pushing people away would make things easier.” A faint, almost self-aware smile touched her lips. “Less complicated.”
Her grip tightened briefly around her bag strap.
“But it didn’t.”
That part, at least, was simple and true.
She looked at him more directly now. “So I decided to stop doing that.”
A quiet beat passed. Not an explanation.
Not really. But not a lie either.
Sunjae studied her face, like he was trying to find the missing pieces she hadn’t given him.
“…That’s it?” he asked.
Im Sol nodded.
“For now.”
There was something final in the way she said it—not shutting him out, but drawing a line she couldn’t cross.
He noticed. Of course he did.
A breath left him, slow and quiet.
“…You’re still not telling me everything.”
“No,” she admitted.
At least she didn’t pretend.
Another pause.
Then, unexpectedly—
“…Okay.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “You’re… okay with that?”
Sunjae shrugged, though his gaze didn’t leave her. “I don’t like it,” he said honestly. “But… you’re here.”
A small beat. “You’re talking to me.”
Something softened in his expression.
“That’s already different.”
And somehow—
That was enough. For now.
~
That afternoon, after the first period of orientation in the morning, Sol had gone to the police station to report on the culprit, Kim Young-Soo.
Though satisfied to have an investigation going this early, Im Sol still decided to stop by a general store to buy herself some self-defence weapons.
The bell above the door chimed softly as she stepped inside. Rows of compact items lined the shelves—keychain alarms, pepper spray, small self-defence tools designed to look harmless.
Im Sol hesitated for only a second before walking further in.
This felt surreal. Like she was preparing for something no one else could see coming.
But she knew better.
She picked up a taser, turning it over in her hand.
Light. Easy to carry.
Enough.
“I’ll take this,” she said.
~
Later that evening.
The city passed by in streaks of gold and shadow outside the window.
Im Sol sat by the window, hands resting loosely in her lap, her bag tucked close against her side.
Sunjae sat next to her. Not too close, but not distant either.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
And yet it wasn’t awkward. Although it had been only less than a week for her, to Sunjae, it had been months since they last spoke to each other.
Strangely, it felt… easy.
“So,” Sunjae said eventually, glancing at her. “You’re just going to act like nothing happened earlier?”
Im Sol turned to him, a small smile forming.
“Do you want me to cry again?”
He blinked. “…No.”
“Then I think this is better.”
A faint huff of laughter escaped him before he could stop it.
She smiled a little. I miss you, Sunjae-ah.
She leaned back slightly, more at ease than she had expected.
“Have you been busy?” she asked.
“Since when do you ask me that?” he shot back.
“Since now.”
“…You’re really serious about this, huh.”
“Very.”
He studied her for a second—then gave in.
“…Yeah. I’ve been helping my father at the restaurant. Practice with In-Hyuk. This and that.”
“Still overworking yourself?”
He frowned slightly. “I don’t—”
“You do,” she cut in lightly.
A beat.
Then—
“…You haven’t changed,” he muttered.
Im Sol smiled softly, turning her gaze back to the window.
No.
Not completely.
But enough.
~
As they walked side by side towards home that evening, noticing the flowers blooming pink, Sol realised that it was already spring. Which meant she didn’t have a lot of time.
Im Sol looked down at her watch. One. One last chance. Because once spring was over, she would no longer be here. Her mind went solemn. Yet determined.
She glanced at Sunjae, who was walking next to her. She will succeed this time. For him. For our future.
~
Meanwhile, Sunjae was just happy to be in Im Sol’s presence again. To be able to be in close proximity to her was a gift from heaven. This was a second chance to do it right this time.
He sneaked glances at her when she wasn’t looking. He felt complete again.
The past year had been hell for him. He’d been miserable, yet never really wanted to blame Sol for their separation.
She wanted him again. She’d asked me to stay!
But wait–
A thought came to him. He couldn’t help but realise the significant difference in her personality & behaviour from these past several months to before.
He had kept a close tab on her, even after what she’d done & said to him, but… had something terrible happened to her when he wasn’t around? She’d been so sad earlier that it’d tugged at his heart, not knowing what was troubling her.
But he knew her mother had all but recovered completely. So it must have been something else. He would just have to stick closer to her and figure it out himself.
~~
The Next Morning
The train hummed steadily beneath them, the soft rhythm of the tracks blending with the chatter of students packed into the carriage.
Im Sol sat by the window again. Sunjae, without question this time, sat beside her.
It had already become natural. The sunlight streamed in, catching in her hair as she turned slightly, listening to the noise around them. Her shoulders felt lighter than they had in a long time.
For once, things felt almost normal.
“…And then,” Chorong’s voice cut in loudly from the seat across the aisle, “if you kiss someone during the retreat—”
A few students leaned in immediately.
“—you’ll end up marrying them.”
Laughter broke out.
“dude, that’s so outdated,” someone groaned.
“It’s a legend,” Chorong insisted. “These things always come true when you least expect them.”
Im Sol let out a small laugh, shaking her head.
“Then I guess you have nothing to worry about,” she said lightly & jokingly.
Sunjae, hearing what Im Sol said, smiled and nodded along.
“Hey, what about you?” Chorong shot back instantly, eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re sitting awfully close to Sunjae.”
The air shifted. Just slightly.
Im Sol stilled.
So did Sunjae.
For a brief second, neither of them said anything. Then—
They both glanced at each other.
And just as quickly—
Looked away.
“…We’re just sitting,” Sunjae muttered.
“Mm,” Im Sol added, a little too quickly.
Chorong grinned like he’d already won. Everyone continuing bantering.
But neither Sunjae nor Sol tried to argue further. Because somehow, it felt more complicated than that.
~~
By the time they arrived, the sky had already begun to darken. The air was cooler here, quieter, surrounded by trees and the distant sounds of insects humming in the night.
Groups were quickly divided, names called, cabins assigned.
Im Sol and Sunjae—
Separate.
She felt it immediately. That anxiety creeping in slightly. That small, strange absence.
But she pushed it down. It’s fine. They’d see each other later.
They always did now.
~~
Laughter filled the wooden cabin as Im Sol sat cross-legged with her group.
Introductions came and went, and games starting soon after. It was loud. Chaotic. Exactly what a school retreat was supposed to be.
And yet, her mind drifted once or twice.
What is he doing right now?
The thought slipped in before she could stop it.
She shook it off quickly. He’s safe. We’re safe here.
Focus.
The game continued.
And unfortunately—
She lost.
“Penalty!” someone shouted immediately.
“No way,” Im Sol groaned, already laughing.
“You have to do it!”
“Do what?”
A senior grinned.
“Go to the cabin next door and dance.”
The room erupted.
“What?!” she laughed, half in disbelief. “In front of another class?!”
“Exactly.”
“That’s too much!”
“No backing out!”
They were already pushing her toward the door. Still protesting, Im Sol let herself be dragged along.
It’s fine, she told herself.
As long as Sunjae isn’t there…
~~
The door slid open. A different group. Different faces.
Im Sol stepped inside, immediately scanning the room. Her eyes moved quickly—
Left.
Right.
Back.
No Sunjae.
A wave of relief washed over her so fast it almost made her laugh.
Okay. I can survive this.
The music started, and someone cheered.
“Go!”
Im Sol squeezed her eyes shut for half a second—
Then just went for it.
It was messy. Over-the-top. Half serious, half completely ridiculous.
Exactly her style.
Laughter filled the room. Clapping. Whistles.
~~
What Im Sol didn't know is that, at the very back of the room, Sunjae shifted slightly, eyes still half-lidded. He had been lying down at the back, barely paying attention to the noise.
Until something changed.
The energy in the room shifted.
Louder. Brighter.
He frowned slightly, pushing himself up on his elbows. What’s going on…
Then he looked forward.
And froze.
Im Sol.
Right there in front of him,
Dancing.
For a second, he thought he was imagining it. But no, that was definitely her.
Looking like she’d rather be somewhere else right now, completely unaware—
Until—
Her eyes found him.
Everything stopped. The music. The movement. Her.
Im Sol’s expression collapsed into pure horror.
“…!”
Without a word—
She turned and ran.
~~
Sunjae blinked.
Still processing.
Then—
“Wait—”
Too late. She was already gone. He felt a smile starting to form on his lips, but then…
Laughter burst out around the room. Loudest of all—
A senior near the front practically doubled over.
Sunjae’s gaze snapped toward him. Something about the way he was laughing—
The timing of it. It made something in Sunjae’s chest tighten.
He made her do that.
The thought came fast. Immediate.
His jaw set. Without another word, he stood and headed straight for the door.
~~
The cool air hit him instantly as he stepped out. It didn’t take long to find her.
Im Sol stood a short distance away, fanning her face rapidly with both hands, pacing in small circles.
“Why did I do that—” she muttered to herself. “I can’t believe—of all places—”
She stopped mid-sentence when she saw him.
“…Sunjae-ah.”
Sunjae walked over, still catching his breath slightly. “Are you okay?”
She stared at him.
“…No.”
He almost smiled. Almost.
“That bad?”
“That bad,” she confirmed, groaning as she covered her face. “I thought you weren’t there!”
“I wasn’t. At first.”
“That makes it worse!”
A small silence fell between them. Not awkward, just… soft. Then—
“Did someone make you do that?” Sunjae asked, his tone shifting slightly.
Im Sol blinked. “What?”
“That guy,” he said, frowning faintly. “The one laughing.”
Realisation hit her—and she burst out laughing.
“Ah~ No! It was just a game! Like I would let myself be bullied.” She said as she was smiling prettily at him.
He paused.
“…Oh.”
“You thought I was being bullied?” she teased, lowering her hands.
He looked away slightly. “Well, I just—” He stopped. “You ran out.”
“Because I was embarrassed!” she shot back immediately.
A beat.
Then—
Her voice softened, “…Especially because you saw.”
That landed differently.
Sunjae looked at her again. Really looked this time.
Her face was still flushed, her eyes bright—not just from embarrassment, but something warmer. Lighter.
“You were good,” he said suddenly.
She blinked. “…What?”
“Your dancing.”
A pause.
“Ayy~ You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I’m not.”
She narrowed her eyes. Then smiled.
“Next time,” she said, tilting her head slightly, “you should dance too.”
Sunjae huffed quietly.
“Not a chance.”
“We’ll see.”
Another quiet moment settled between them.
The night air felt cooler now.
Calmer.
Im Sol shifted slightly closer to him without thinking. Her thoughts went to that morning in the future, inside her apartment door.
This time, she didn’t feel the need to explain it.
Because staying close to him no longer felt like something she had to justify.
It just felt right.
And Sunjae… he didn’t move away.
“Yah! Sol-ah!”
The moment broke cleanly. Both of them turned at the same time.
Hyunjoo stood at the cabin entrance, arms crossed but clearly amused, eyes darting between the two of them.
“So this is where you ran off to,” she said, grinning. “We’re starting the real activity now.”
Im Sol blinked. “Real…?”
Hyunjoo leaned in slightly, lowering her voice dramatically. “Drinking.”
A chorus of cheers echoed from inside.
Im Sol groaned instantly. “What? No, I’m bad at drinking—”
“Exactly why you need practice!” Hyunjoo grabbed her wrist without hesitation. “Come on!”
She barely had time to react before she was being pulled away. “Wait—” Im Sol glanced back.
Sunjae was still standing there.
Watching.
Their eyes met for a brief second.
Then—
She was gone.
~~
The night had deepened. The air was cooler now, wrapped in quiet except for distant laughter and the occasional rustle of leaves. Fairy lights glowed softly around the camping area, strung between trees and tents like something out of a dream.
Sunjae stood a short distance away from his group, frowning.
“I told you to stop drinking too much,” he said, irritation clear in his voice.
His friend only laughed, swaying slightly. “Relax, it’s a retreat.”
“You can barely stand.”
“I’m fine—”
“Fine, my foot.”
Sunjae exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
He hadn’t had a single drink. Didn’t want to. Didn’t trust the loss of control that came with it.
And maybe… He just didn’t feel like it tonight.
His gaze drifted absentmindedly—Then stilled.
Someone wearing a pink fluffy jacket could be seen staggering toward the tents.
Her pace unsteady & slow. He started to smile. This felt familiar. Her and her alcohol.
Even from a distance, he recognised her. The way she moved, the slight sway, the way her arms lifted slightly like she was trying to balance herself.
His expression changed immediately.
Without another word, he started after her.
~~
Im Sol didn’t notice him.
The lights blurred together in soft halos as she stumbled forward, her steps uneven, her thoughts even worse.
Her head felt heavy. Too full. Too loud.
She found a tent—slightly raised off the ground—and climbed up clumsily, nearly tripping before she managed to pull herself onto it.
Then she dropped. Flat on her back, staring up at the soft glow of stars among the trees above her.
For a moment, she just breathed. Slow. Unsteady.
“So pretty.”
Then, out of nowhere, tears began pooling in her eyes.
“Should we just meet up now?” Sunjae suggested to her on the phone.
“What?” she replies while smiling, thinking it was ridiculous of him to suggest that, knowing how hectic his celebrity schedule had been like that day.
“Just tell me you want to see me now, and I’ll drop everything and go to you,” Sunjae said half-teasingly.
Hearing this, Sol chuckled. “Go back to work now.”
“…Why did I do that…”
Her voice was small. Barely there. “I’m sorry.”
Sunjae slowed as he approached, stopping just outside the circle of light.
He hadn’t meant to listen.
But—
“At that time, I should have told you how much I wanted to see you. Would nothing have happened to you, then? Maybe you wouldn’t have died.”
His steps halted completely.
Her voice—
It wasn’t just drunk.
It was breaking.
“…Sunjae-ah. You said… if I called you, you’d come…”
A quiet, uneven laugh escaped her.
“But I didn’t…”
Sunjae’s brows furrowed.
What…?
“I told you not to,” she whispered. “I told you to…”
His chest tightened slightly. The words felt familiar, too familiar.
“…And you listened.”
A pause.
Then–
Her voice cracked. “…You always listen.”
Sunjae didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Something about the way she was speaking— Like she wasn’t here. Like she was somewhere else entirely.
“…If I just… told you to come anyway…”
Her hand lifted weakly, as if reaching for something that wasn’t there.
“…Would you still be alive?”
Silence.
The world seemed to still around him.
Sunjae’s breath caught. Alive?
“…I’m sorry…”
The words came out in a whisper.
“…I’m so sorry, Sunjae-ah…”
His name.
Not casual.
Not light.
Heavy.
Full of something he couldn’t understand—but felt anyway.
“…I should’ve let you stay…”
A tear slipped from the corner of her eye, disappearing into her hair.
“I should’ve stayed with you…” Sol started to sob. Tears were flowing heavily down her cheeks.
Sunjae’s chest tightened sharply. The air felt different now.
Too heavy.
Too real.
He didn’t understand what she was talking about. None of it made sense.
And yet the emotion in her voice—
The regret and the guilt.
It wasn’t something you could fake.
“…I won’t do that again…”
Her fingers curled weakly against the wood beneath her.
“…This time… I’ll stay…”
A pause. Soft. Final.
“…So don’t go anywhere.”
Sunjae stood there in silence.
Everything she had said echoed in his mind—but none of it fit into anything he knew.
Would you still be alive?
What was that supposed to mean? Why did it sound like-
Like she had already lost him? His gaze shifted to her.
She looked so small lying there unprotected. Looked like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
Crying over something that hadn’t even happened.
Or—
Something he didn’t know had happened.
Something in his chest pulled tight.
Something deeper.
Quieter.
He stepped forward.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Not wanting to startle her.
“…Im Sol.”
His voice was softer than before.
Different.
She didn’t respond.
Didn’t even seem to register that he was there.
Still caught somewhere between memory and regret.
Sunjae hesitated—
Then moved closer to the edge of the tent.
Looking down at her.
For the first time that night—
He didn’t try to understand.
He just stayed.
~~
20 minutes later…
Sunjae stayed. He didn’t sit. Didn’t leave. Didn’t even check the time.
He just stood there, watching over her.
At first, his thoughts had been loud—too many questions, too many things that didn’t make sense.
Would you still be alive?
I’m sorry, Sunjae.
This time… I’ll stay.
None of it fit. None of it should mean anything.
And yet it did.
Because of the way she said it.
Because of the way she cried.
Because of how real it sounded.
Sunjae exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair before letting it fall back to his side.
“…What are you hiding, Im Sol…” he murmured under his breath.
No answer. Only the quiet hum of the night.
Then—
A small shift.
His attention snapped back immediately.
Im Sol stirred, her brows knitting slightly as she slowly pushed herself upright.
She sat at the edge of the tent, legs dangling loosely, head tilted forward slightly—eyes still closed.
Half-asleep, half-drunk. Completely unaware.
Sunjae watched her in silence. And something in his chest softened. Her hair was slightly messy, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol, her lips parted just enough as she breathed out slowly. She looked different like this. Unfiltered. Honest.
“…You’re really something,” he muttered quietly.
Cute.
The word slipped into his thoughts before he could stop it.
Dangerously cute.
He took a step closer. Then another. Until he was standing right in front of her.
For a few seconds—
He just looked at her and at the warmth in her cheeks. At the faint crease between her brows.
At the way she swayed slightly, like she might fall over again if left alone.
A small, helpless breath escaped him.
“…We should go back.”
No response, of course.
He shook his head lightly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Get on,” he said, turning slightly and standing in front of her. “I’ll carry you.”
Nothing.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t even open her eyes.
“…Im Sol.”
Still nothing.
He let out a quiet sigh, glancing back at her.
“Get on my back–”
Reaching out, he gently took her hand—
—or at least, he meant to.
Because the moment his fingers wrapped around her wrist and he tried to guide her forward—
She tipped. Forward. Straight into him.
His balance shifted instinctively as he caught her—
And then—
Everything stopped. His eyes widened instantly.
Her lips—
On his.
For a second,
No, longer than a second. Neither of them moved. His mind went completely blank.
The world narrowed down to one impossible, undeniable fact: They were kissing.
The myth. The ridiculous, stupid—
If you kiss someone…
Sunjae’s breath caught sharply as reality slammed back in.
He pulled back abruptly.
“…!”
His heart was racing too fast.
He stared at her in disbelief.
Im Sol, meanwhile, didn’t even react. At all. Her eyes were still closed. Completely unaware.
“…You—”
He stopped himself.
There was no point.
She didn’t even know what had just happened.
Sunjae ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply.
“Seriously…? Again…?”
“…You’re unbelievable.”
He glanced at her again.
Still swaying & so completely out of it.
“…I’m keeping count,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.
Carefully this time, he adjusted his grip—sliding one arm around her back, steadying her properly before turning around again.
“Okay,” he said firmly. “We’re doing this the normal way.”
It took him a couple of tries.
She leaned the wrong way once. Nearly slipped again. Mumbled something incoherent. But eventually, he managed to get her onto his back.
Her arms draped loosely over his shoulders, her head resting against him.
He adjusted his hold slightly, making sure she was secure.
Then stood.
“…Let’s go.”
~~
The path back felt quieter. Her weight against his back was warm—lighter than he expected, but enough to make him aware of every step he took.
For a while, there was only silence. Then—
A faint sound.
Sunjae’s brows furrowed slightly. “Hm?”
He paused & listened.
She was humming softly. Almost absentmindedly. “Tsk. She’s completely hammered.”
At first, he didn’t think much of it—just a random tune.
Until—
His steps slowed.
Then stopped completely.
Because the melody—
His heart skipped. No. That wasn’t possible.
He stood still, listening more carefully.
There was no mistake; it was his song.
The one he had started writing only recently.
The one no one had heard. Even In-Hyuk had only read the music sheet.
Not finished. Not shared. Not even mentioned. Just something he kept to himself.
“…How did you…?” He turned his head slightly, trying to look at her.
Still half-asleep. Still humming, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Sunjae’s chest tightened.
“…Im Sol.” He shifted slightly, steadying her again.
“How do you know that song?”
His voice was quieter now.
More serious.
More certain.
Because this—
This wasn’t a coincidence.
It couldn’t be.
Im Sol suddenly exhaled loudly and spoke, “I’m going to change it this time. I’ll make sure to change it. Before I go back.”
And for the second time that night—
Something she did made absolutely no sense, and hearing her last sentence, he immediately anxiously asked, “Are you going somewhere?!”
But this time, it felt different. He waited for an answer he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.
“The future. To my time.” Sol stated with another soft sigh.
It was a good thing Sunjae had stopped walking, because what she had just said almost made him drop her in shock.
His grip on her tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to make sure she wouldn’t slip.
“…What?” The word came out quieter than he expected.
Im Sol shifted faintly on his back, her head resting more heavily against his shoulder. For a second, he thought she had already drifted off again.
Then—
She let out a small, sleepy breath. Comfortably rubbing her cheek on his back. Her sleeping habit.
“Mmm…”
Like she hadn’t just said something that made absolutely no sense.
Sunjae’s brows furrowed deeply.
The future?
Her time?
He started walking again—but slower this time. More careful. More focused on her words than the path ahead.
“…What are you talking about?” he asked, softer now.
No response.
Only the faint rhythm of her breathing. “…You wrote it… at your desk…”
His steps faltered.
“…Late at night…”
A pause.
“…You kept erasing the chorus…”
Sunjae’s heart skipped.
Once.
Hard.
That—
That was true.
Every word of it.
He had stayed up for nights, rewriting the same lines over and over, unable to get it right. No one knew that. No one had seen him like that. No one—
“…Im Sol.”
This time, her name came out more firmly.
More real.
“How do you know that?”
His voice was no longer just confused.
There was something else now. Something deeper.
Something close to… unease. She shifted again, her fingers curling slightly against his shoulder.
“…Because…” she murmured.
A small pause.
Like, even in her drunken state, she was searching for the simplest way to say something impossible.
“…I’ve already heard it.”
Sunjae’s breath caught.
He didn’t interrupt.
Couldn’t.
“…You sang it…”
Her voice softened.
“…On stage…”
Another step.
Then another.
“…And everyone was cheering…”
His chest tightened.
“…I was there too…”
A faint smile touched her lips—he couldn’t see it, but he could hear it.
“…I always am…”
Sunjae stopped again.
This time, not because he chose to, but because his body wouldn’t move.
His mind was trying to catch up, trying to force her words into something logical, something real. But nothing fit. Nothing made sense.
And yet the way she spoke, it didn’t sound like imagination.
Or guessing.
It sounded like a memory.
“…Im Sol,” he said slowly, carefully, like each word mattered, “are you saying… you’ve seen it already?”
No answer.
Only silence.
He turned his head slightly.
Her breathing had evened out. She had fallen asleep. Just like that. Leaving him alone with words that shouldn’t exist.
Sunjae stood there for a long moment, staring ahead into the dim path back to the cabins.
His heart was still beating too fast.
His thoughts—too loud.
The future.
Her time.
You sang it… on stage.
He exhaled slowly. “…You’re really… something else.”
But this time, there was no lightness in it. Only quiet disbelief, and something else.
Something that lingered deeper than confusion. Because no matter how impossible it sounded, a part of him, a small, unshakable part, believed her.
He adjusted her slightly on his back, making sure she was secure.
Then started walking again.
Toward the cabin.
And toward a truth that was slowly & impossibly beginning to unfold.
~~
Two days later.
The retreat ended as all retreats did; too quickly.
The noise, the laughter, the late-night chaos… all of it faded into something that already felt like a memory. Both Sol & Sunjae had enjoyed their time there. Sol finally got to experience a campus retreat with new friends. Something that had been taken away by Kim Young-Soo, two lifetimes ago.
Sunjae also surprisingly had truly felt content during the retreat. Something he had initially dreaded about going. But having Im Sol there, and her talking to him again, definitely played a huge part in that.
But there was one moment that refused to fade.
The woods.
Her voice.
The future… my time.
He hadn’t said a word about it. Not once.
Because the next morning, Im Sol had acted like nothing had happened.
Bright. Easygoing. Completely unaware, just like always.
So he waited. I’ll ask her when we’re home.
When it was just the two of them. When she was clear-headed.
When he could look her in the eye and ask properly.
~~
The train ride back was louder than the one before.
Students were half-asleep, half-hyper, talking over each other, replaying moments from the trip.
Sunjae sat in his seat.
Same as before. And without question—
He had saved the window seat.
For her.
He leaned back slightly, one arm resting casually, gaze drifting toward the aisle.
Waiting.
~
Sol emerged from the sliding door.
Walking back from the bathroom, adjusting her sleeve absentmindedly.
And right in front of him, someone else stood. A girl. Effortlessly so pretty.
She was talking to him about something light, something casual.
Im Sol slowed for just a second. Barely noticeable, but enough.
Her eyes flickered between them. A strange feeling stirred in her chest.
Oh.
She didn’t like that. Not one bit. Before she could think too much about it, she stepped forward.
Sunjae saw her immediately. His expression shifted—subtly, but clearly. Attention snapping into place. “Excuse me,” he said to the girl, polite but already disengaging. “Can you move for a second?”
The girl blinked, slightly surprised, then stepped aside.
Im Sol reached the seat—
And paused.
Because Sunjae didn’t get up.
He didn’t even move.
Instead, he looked at her—calm, almost expectant.
“Go on,” he said simply.
Im Sol blinked.
“…Go on?”
“You can get through.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly. “There’s no space.”
“There is,” he said, completely unfazed. There wasn’t. Not really. Not unless—
Her gaze flickered down briefly.
Then back up. He knew exactly what he was doing. And worse, he wasn’t even trying to hide it.
Behind her, she could feel the presence of others. The girl was still standing nearby. Watching & waiting.
Im Sol let out a small, disbelieving breath.
Unbelievable.
But she didn’t argue. Didn’t back down. Instead—
She stepped forward. Carefully.
Trying to squeeze past him in the narrow space between his knees and the seat.
It was too close.
Way too close.
Her shoulder brushed against him first. Then her arm. And just as she shifted her weight to move past—
She felt it.
His hand.
Light.
Firm.
Resting against her lower back.
Guiding her.
Not pushing. Not forcing. Just there. Steady & deliberate.
Her breath caught for half a second.
It was subtle enough that no one could call it out. But obvious enough that everyone could see.
Im Sol froze for the briefest moment, then continued moving, her face warming slightly despite herself.
Behind her, Sunjae’s expression didn’t change much. But Sol could swear she recognised something unmistakable in his gaze. Something quiet.
Certain. As if he had just drawn a line no one else could cross.
The girl standing nearby noticed.
Of course she did. And just like that—
The conversation she had started earlier lost all meaning.
Im Sol finally slipped into her seat by the window.
Sunjae’s hand dropped naturally, like it had never been there.
Like it was nothing.
But the air between them? It wasn’t nothing.
Not anymore.
She turned her head slightly, looking out the window.
“…You didn’t have to do that.” Her voice was calm. But softer than usual.
Sunjae leaned back in his seat, completely relaxed.
“Hm? Do what?”
She glanced at him. “You know what.”
A small pause.
Then, “…She was talking to you.”
“Was she?”
Im Sol frowned slightly. “You didn’t even listen.”
“I wasn’t interested.”
Simple.
Immediate.
No hesitation.
Her heart did something strange at that.
She looked away again.
“…Still.”
“…You could’ve just stood up.”
Sunjae turned his head slightly, watching her now.
Closer than before.
“And let you walk past like a stranger?”
The question was quiet, but it landed.
Im Sol didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t have one.
A small silence settled between them.
Not awkward.
Not tense.
Just… full.
Then, after a moment, “…Next time,” she muttered, still looking out the window, “at least warn me.”
Sunjae huffed softly. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She almost smiled. And this time, she didn’t try to hide it.
~~
Inhyuk leaned back against the wall, guitar resting loosely across his lap.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Just try it once. Live audition. We’ll blow them away. Hm?”
Sunjae barely looked up. “No.”
“You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. The answer’s still no.”
Inhyuk groaned. “You’re wasting your talent.”
Sunjae didn’t respond this time. He stood instead, walking over to the window.
The night air slipped in as he pushed it open slightly. And instinctively, his gaze drifted across.
To her window.
The curtains were drawn, but the light was on. And behind it, a shadow moved.
Im Sol.
Just a silhouette. Just a faint outline shifting across the fabric. A small smile formed on his lips without him realising.
His mind flickered back to earlier on the train.
To the way she looked at him—just for a second—when that girl was standing there. That tiny pause. That barely-there jealousy.
“…You didn’t have to do that.”
But she didn’t pull away.
Didn’t push him off.
Didn’t deny it.
Sunjae leaned slightly against the window frame, eyes still fixed on her shadow.
“…You’re not avoiding me anymore,” he murmured.
And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t pretending anymore, either.
Behind him, Inhyuk sighed dramatically. “You’re not even listening, are you?”
“…No.”
“Unbelievable.”
But Sunjae didn’t care. Because for the first time in a long time, something felt like it was moving in the right direction.
~~
Im Sol stood on the rooftop, clipping laundry onto the line, the breeze catching the fabric gently. For a moment, it felt peaceful.
Her phone rang.
She answered without thinking.
“…Hello?”
“Is this Im Sol?”
Her hand stilled.
“Yes…”
“This is Detective—”
Her stomach dropped. Something in his tone. Something is wrong.
“We have an update,” he continued. “The suspect from last year—Kim Young-Soo…”
Her grip tightened around the phone.
“…escaped from his hideout last night and set the place on fire.”
Silence.
The world tilted.
“…What?”
“We’re advising you to stay cautious. There’s a possibility—”
She didn’t hear the rest.
Her mind had already spiralled.
He’s out.
He’s out.
Her breath quickened.
He could find me.
He could—
Sunjae.
The thought hit her like a jolt.
What if he finds out about Sunjae?
Her chest tightened painfully.
No.
Not again.
Not this time.
Her hands shook as she hung up.
Think. Think.
The fire—
His place.
Last night.
If I go there, maybe I’ll remember something. Something I missed. Something that could stop him—
Before she could second-guess herself, she turned and rushed downstairs.
~~
The door swung open, and she stopped.
There stood Sunjae by her front gate.
Like he had been waiting.
Her breath caught.
“…Sunjae-ah?”
He straightened slightly the moment he saw her.
She looked terrified. Not just shaken, terrified.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer without hesitation.
Im Sol tried to steady her breathing, but it wouldn’t slow.
“He’s out,” she said, her voice barely holding together.
Sunjae frowned. “Who?”
She hesitated.
Because this—
This was where everything started to unravel.
“…Kim Young-Soo.”
The name meant nothing to him.
He could tell by the way his brows pulled together slightly, confusion settling in.
“…Who is that?”
Her chest tightened.
Of course, he didn’t know.
He wasn’t supposed to know. Not yet.
“…Someone dangerous,” she said quickly. “Someone who—”
She stopped herself.
Too much.
Too fast.
Sunjae didn’t let it slide. “Someone who what?”
Im Sol shook her head, panic rising again.
“I don’t have time to explain. I need to go somewhere—”
She moved to step past him.
He caught her wrist immediately.
“Sol-ah.”
She froze.
“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”
His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was firm & grounding.
“You’re shaking,” he added quietly.
That—
That broke something.
Because he was right.
She was.
“I just need to check something,” she insisted, her voice unsteady. “If I can remember properly, then maybe I can stop it before it happens—”
“Stop what?”
She clenched her eyes shut briefly.
“…Something bad.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“No, it’s not,” she snapped, more sharply than intended. “But it’s the only one I can give you right now.”
Silence.
Heavy.
Then—
“…You already know.”
The words slipped out again.
And this time—
She couldn’t take them back.
Sunjae stilled.
“…What?”
Her eyes lifted slowly.
“You heard me that night, didn’t you?” she said quietly. “At the campsite.”
She might not have remembered most of what happened that night in the forest, but she still remembered up to that point.
A pause.
Then—
“…Yeah.”
No denial.
No hesitation.
Her heart sank and lifted at the same time.
“…How much?”
“All of it.”
Her breath caught.
Sunjae’s gaze didn’t waver.
“You said you’re from the future,” he continued. “That something happens… to me.”
He didn’t say die this time.
But the weight of it was still there.
“And that you came back.”
A beat.
“…So explain it to me.”
Not accusing. Not mocking. Im Sol stared at him. This was it. No more hiding. No more half-truths.
“…I came back to change things,” she said softly.
His expression didn’t shift, but his focus sharpened.
“To stop something from happening…” she added. “to you.”
Sunjae exhaled slowly. “…What happens to me?”
She couldn’t say it.
Not yet.
“…You get hurt.” Her throat tightened as the vision of him lying on that hospital bed sprang to mind.
Not a lie.
Just not everything.
“And I know when it’s going to happen.”
His grip on her wrist loosened slightly. “…That guy?” he asked. “Kim Young-Soo?”
She nodded.
“That’s why you’re like this right now?”
Another nod.
He studied her face.
The fear.
The urgency.
The way she looked like she was already reliving something that hadn’t happened yet.
“…And you were going to deal with it alone?” he asked quietly.
She hesitated.
“…Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because last time I didn’t—and it still didn’t work.”
Because of me not remembering…
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Sunjae caught it immediately.
“…Last time?”
She froze.
Too late.
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
“…You really did come from the future,” he said, more to himself than her.
Not disbelief.
Not fully.
But not acceptance either.
Just—
Trying to place it.
Im Sol’s eyes filled slightly.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” she admitted. “Because I thought… if I stayed away from you, you’d be safer.” A small, bitter laugh escaped her.
“But that didn’t work.” She looked at him again. More steady now.
“So I’m not doing that anymore.”
A pause.
“I’m staying close to you.”
Sunjae’s chest tightened at that. “…To protect me?”
“Yes.” Another beat. “And to stop him.”
He exhaled slowly, looking away for a second before running a hand through his hair.
This was insane.
Completely insane.
Future. Danger. Someone he didn’t even know.
And yet—
She wasn’t lying.
He could tell.
“…You know how this sounds, right?” he said.
“…I know. That’s why I thought I could do this, and leave quietly.”
“And you still expect me to just accept that?”
“No,” she said honestly. “I just need you to not ignore it.”
That landed differently. Sunjae looked back at her. He could see the fear that she wasn’t hiding anymore, and determination underneath it. And the fact that everything that she was doing right now… was for him.
A long silence passed.
Then—
“…You’re not going alone,” he said decidedly.
Her eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“If there’s someone dangerous out there,” he continued, “you’re not going to face it by yourself.”
“You don’t even know what you’re dealing with—”
“Then I’ll learn.”
Simple.
Immediate.
“No,” she said quickly. “You can’t get involved—”
“I already am.”
A beat.
“You said whatever happens… happens to me too.”
She froze.
“…Sunjae—”
“So don’t push me out of it.”
His voice softened slightly.
“But don’t expect me to just stand here and watch you panic either.”
Silence.
Then—
More quietly—
“…At least let me stay with you.”
The words hit differently now. Not the same as before, but carrying the same weight.
Im Sol’s fingers trembled slightly.
Because this… this was exactly what she had been trying to avoid. And exactly what she needed.
Slowly—
She nodded.
Just once.
And this time—
When he let go of her wrist—
She didn’t step away.
Because running—
Was no longer an option.
~~
The road was quieter than expected. Too quiet. Even the air felt heavier the closer they got.
Im Sol walked slightly ahead at first, her steps quick, purposeful—like if she slowed down, she might lose her nerve. Sunjae kept pace beside her.
Just watching her and listening to her.
“…I don’t know everything,” she said after a while, her voice steadier now than before. “But I know enough.”
He didn’t interrupt.
“There’s a place,” she continued. “Near the reservoir. That’s where he goes.”
“Kim Young-Soo,” Sunjae said, testing the name again.
She nodded.
“He’s careful. He doesn’t leave much behind. But… this place…”
Her steps slowed slightly.
“…it matters.”
Sunjae glanced at her.
“You’ve been there before.”
Not a question.
A quiet realisation.
Im Sol hesitated.
“…Yes.”
A beat.
“…Just not like this.”
He didn’t ask what that meant. But he felt it; the difference in her tone; the weight behind it.
~~
At Jooyang Reservoir
The water stretched out dark and still, reflecting only fragments of moonlight.
The trees surrounding it stood like shadows—tall, unmoving, watching.
Im Sol stopped.
Her breath caught slightly.
Something about this place—
It hadn’t changed.
Not at all.
Her fingers curled slowly at her sides.
“…It’s here.”
Sunjae looked around carefully, his gaze sharp now.
Every instinct in him was alert.
But his attention kept returning to her.
Because she had gone quiet.
Too quiet.
“…Im Sol?”
She didn’t answer.
Her eyes were fixed ahead—
But she wasn’t seeing the present anymore.
“…I ran.”
Her voice came out distant as if she was somewhere else.
Sunjae stilled.
“I thought… if I just kept running…”
Her breathing grew uneven.
“…I could get away.”
His chest tightened.
She took a step forward—unconsciously.
“I remember the trees,” she whispered. “The ground… it was uneven. I fell.”
Her hand lifted slightly, brushing against her cheek.
“…I could feel blood trickling down my cheeks.”
Sunjae froze completely.
Because—
He remembered that.
That night.
When he had found her disoriented & injured. “Who… are you?”
Scratches across her face.
Eyes unfocused.
He had asked her what happened.
Over and over.
And she—
Didn’t know.
She couldn’t answer because…because she wasn’t there.
Sunjae’s expression shifted slowly.
From confusion—
To realisation. To something deeper.
“…You didn’t remember,” he said quietly.
Im Sol blinked, like she was being pulled back.
“…What?”
“That night,” he continued, his voice low. “When I found you.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“You had those scratches,” he said. “You looked like you’d been running.”
A pause.
“You kept saying you didn’t know what happened. Asked me who I was.”
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Because now—
They both understood why.
“…Because I wasn’t there,” she whispered.
The words felt strange even as she said them out loud.
“My consciousness… had already gone back.”
Sunjae looked at the girl that he’d loved for almost two years now, standing in front of him—
And the version of her he had met that night.
Scared.
Lost.
Alone.
And now—
He knew.
She had been alone.
Not just physically, completely.
Something in his chest tightened sharply. A feeling he didn’t even try to name. “…You went through that by yourself,” he said.
Im Sol’s gaze dropped slightly.
“…I didn’t have a choice.”
That—
That did something to him.
Something quiet.
But intense.
Because suddenly—
That night wasn’t just confusing anymore.
It wasn’t just something strange that had happened.
It was—
This.
Her.
Running.
Falling.
Getting hurt.
And no one in her life knew about it. Not even me. Sunjae’s jaw tightened slightly, and a tear fell from his eye.
His gaze shifted toward the trees, the darkness surrounding them.
This is where it happened.
This is where she was hurt.
And something in him shifted. Not confusion. Not disbelief. Something sharper.
Colder.
Protective.
When he looked back at her—
It was different.
“…You’re not doing that again.”
His voice was quiet.
But firm.
Im Sol blinked.
“What?”
“Running around alone,” he said. “Getting hurt without anyone knowing.”
A beat.
“I’m here now. Nothing will ever happen to you.”
Simple.
But heavier than anything else.
She stared at him for a moment. Because there was no hesitation in his voice. Just certainty.
“…Sunjae-ah…”
“I don’t care if I don’t understand everything yet,” he continued. “But I understand enough.”
His gaze flickered briefly toward the darkness again.
Then back to her.
“And if this is where it starts—”
Another step closer.
“Then we face it together.”
The words settled between them.
Steady.
Unmoving.
And for the first time since they arrived—
Im Sol didn’t feel like she was standing in that memory alone.
Because this time—
He was here.
And he wasn’t letting her go through it by herself.