The nurse worked in silence.
Min-Ju stood a little to the side, hands at his pockets, eyes lowered—but not unfocused. He watched the nurse part Ji-Soo's hair carefully, fingers gentle as she dabbed ointment along her forehead.
"That's going to bruise," the nurse murmured. "She's lucky it's not worse."
Min-Ju nodded once.
Then he saw it.
Just above her brow, where her hair had been pushed aside, there was a mark.
Not red. Not purple.
Brown.
He frowned slightly.
That's… strange.
A bruise should've been darker. Newer. Angry-looking.
This one wasn't.
It sat there quietly, almost blended into her skin—as if it had always been there.
Min-Ju searched his memory without meaning to.
Did she ever have that?
He couldn't remember one. He was sure he would have. They'd grown up together. Too many days, too many careless moments.
But lately… she wore bangs.
Always bangs.
Maybe I just never noticed, he told himself.
The nurse smoothed Ji-Soo's hair back into place, covering the mark again.
"There," she said. "She'll wake up soon."
Min-Ju nodded, stepping back.
He didn't mention it.
Didn't question it.
He shrugged the thought away like something unimportant—something he didn't want to pull at too hard.
Ji-Soo woke slowly.
Sound returned first. Distant. Muffled. The hum of the room.
Her body felt heavy, pinned to the bed.
Then memory hit.
Hands. Noise. The ground rushing up.
Her breath caught sharply.
She sat up too fast.
"Easy," the nurse said gently, pressing her back down. "You fainted."
Ji-Soo's hand flew to her forehead.
Her fingers brushed bandage.
Her chest tightened.
No.
Her mind raced—not with pain, but panic.
Did anyone see?
Her eyes flicked instinctively to Min-Ju.
He stood near the door, posture relaxed, expression calm—too calm.
Watching her, but not studying her.
"Hey," he said softly. "You're okay."
She swallowed.
Her voice came out small. "I… what happened?"
"You tripped," he replied. "Hit your head. That's all."
That's all.
She nodded quickly, gripping the sheet beneath her hands.
"I'm sorry," she said at once. "I didn't mean to—cause trouble."
Min-Ju frowned faintly. "You didn't."
The nurse finished a note and stepped away. "You should rest for a bit. I'll check on you later."
The door closed.
Silence settled.
Ji-Soo stared at the wall, heart still racing.
I almost—
Her fingers trembled under the blanket.
She hadn't meant to fall. Hadn't meant to be seen. Hadn't meant to give herself away piece by piece.
If he noticed…
She didn't dare ask.
Min-Ju didn't speak either.
After a moment, he said, "You don't have to play if you don't want to."
Her throat tightened.
"I know," she whispered.
He nodded, as if that was enough.
''I will come back later...ok?''
When he finally left, Ji-Soo lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling.
Her breathing steadied.
But her thoughts didn't.
I can't let this happen again.
She turned her face slightly to the side, bangs falling naturally into place.
Hiding.
Protecting.
Surviving.
---
The door of the luxury car opened slowly, silently—like it always did.
Ji-Woo stepped out.
For a brief moment, she just stood there.
The school rose before her in pale morning light, its tall glass windows reflecting the sky, students streaming through the gates in neat uniforms and careless laughter. Everything looked ordinary. Too ordinary.
She exhaled.
Yesterday still clung to her skin.
Her head throbbed faintly, a slow pulse just above her temple, as if something inside her hadn't settled back into place. The air felt warm, heavier than it should have been. Her collar pressed uncomfortably against her throat.
That morning, she had mentioned it—only once.
"My head hurts."
Mrs. Kim hadn't looked up.
"Drink your medicine and get to school."
No pause.No concern.No questions.
Ji-Woo had swallowed the pills obediently, the bitterness lingering on her tongue longer than it should have. Now, standing at the gate, she rolled her shoulders back and smoothed her uniform, letting her long hair fall neatly down her spine.
Normal, she told herself. Walk like it's normal.
Her steps were confident as she crossed the courtyard, light and deliberate, just playful enough to pass as ease. The sound of her shoes against the stone blended into the rhythm of the morning—lockers slamming, voices overlapping, the bell ringing faintly in the distance.
She entered the building.
The hallway smelled faintly of polish and paper. Sunlight spilled through the windows, striping the floor. Students moved around her instinctively, parting without realizing why.
Then she slowed.
Mi-Sook stood ahead.
Not in her way.
Waiting.
Ji-Woo felt it before she saw her—the subtle pressure of being watched.
Mi-Sook turned at the exact moment Ji-Woo stopped.
Their eyes met.
Mi-Sook's lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes.
"Good morning," she said lightly, her tone pleasant enough to be harmless. "You looked… lovely yesterday."
Ji-Woo didn't answer.
Mi-Sook stepped aside, falling into pace beside her without being invited.
"The party was beautifully done," Mi-Sook continued. "So quiet. So… personal." She paused. "Everyone was paying attention. I don't think they even realized how closely."
Her gaze slid over Ji-Woo—not lingering, but cataloging.
"I especially liked the piano," Mi-Sook said. "It felt different. But I suppose that's what happens when someone loses their memories. People change. Even their hands forget."
Ji-Woo kept walking.
Mi-Sook's smile sharpened almost imperceptibly.
"Still," she went on softly, "it must be exhausting. Letting others tell you who you are. Applauding what they expect."
She leaned in just enough for her words to land cleanly.
"I'd hate for something… wrong to be noticed."
Ji-Woo stopped.
Mi-Sook's eyes brightened.
Then Ji-Woo stepped forward again—past her.
No reaction.No denial.No fear.
She didn't even look back.
Her shoulder brushed close enough that Mi-Sook's perfume lingered for half a second in her wake.
Behind her, Mi-Sook let out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh.
Ji-Woo continued down the hall, posture straight, chin lifted, expression calm.
Inside, her thoughts were sharp and steady.
She's waiting for me to slip.
She adjusted her grip on her bag, fingers tightening once before relaxing.
She'll wait.
Sunlight spilled across the floor ahead, bright and open.
Ji-Woo walked into it without hesitation.