Ji-Ho walked down the quiet hallway toward the teachers' office, the echo of his footsteps soft against the tiled floor.
Being responsible was exhausting—but it was a habit he didn't know how to break.
He adjusted his glasses with one finger, the other hand gripping the math homework tightly, corners slightly bent from how long he'd been holding it.
After a small breath, he pushed the door open.
The office was mostly empty.
Mr. Yoo Joon's desk sat untouched, his chair pushed in neatly.
No coat.
No bag.
Only Mrs. Posh was there, seated at her desk, flipping through a stack of papers with sharp, practiced movements.
Ji-Ho paused, then stepped inside.
"Excuse me," he said quietly. "I'm here to submit the math homework."
Mrs. Posh looked up, surprised for half a second before her expression smoothed out.
"Ah—Ji-Ho." She glanced toward the empty desk. "Mr. Yoo Joon stepped out."
Ji-Ho blinked. "Stepped out…?"
"He went to look for something," she replied casually.
Something tugged at Ji-Ho's chest.
"A… watch?" he asked before he could stop himself.
Mrs. Posh's brows lifted.
"Yes," she said slowly. "A watch."
Ji-Ho's fingers stiffened.
Instinctively, his hand moved to his pocket.
It was still there.
He hesitated, then pulled it out—a simple watch, worn at the edges, the glass faintly scratched.
He stepped forward and placed it gently on the desk between them.
"Is it this one?" he asked.
Mrs. Posh stared at it for a moment, then nodded. "Yes. That's it."
Relief flickered across Ji-Ho's face—brief, quiet.
He slid the homework onto the desk as well. "Then… I'll leave this here."
He turned to go, but stopped after a step. His eyes flicked to the wall clock ticking steadily above the door.
A pause.
Then he reached back, picked up the homework again, and tucked it under his arm.
"I'll hand it to sir myself," he said calmly.
Mrs. Posh watched him, something unreadable passing through her eyes.
Ji-Ho gave a small nod and walked out, the door closing softly behind him—the watch left behind, but the weight of it still sitting heavy in his pocket.
Free time finally came.
Ji-Ho left the school grounds quietly, as he always did, his steps unhurried but purposeful.
Instead of heading home, his feet carried him to the convenience store across the street—the same one where he and Ji-Woo had sat the other day.
The place smelled faintly of instant noodles and cold drinks. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead.
Someone was already there.
Mr. Yoo Joon stood near the counter, a paper cup of coffee in his hand.
When he saw Ji-Ho enter, his eyes widened—just slightly—before he straightened.
Ji-Ho stopped a few steps away and reached into his pocket.
He placed the watch on the counter between them.
"I thought you might still be here," Ji-Ho said calmly.
Mr. Yoo Joon looked down at the watch, then exhaled. "I was."
He picked it up, turning it over in his palm. "Thank you."
There was a pause.
Ji-Ho adjusted his glasses.
"You were the one following me," he said. Not a question.
Mr. Yoo Joon's shoulders rose and fell with a quiet sigh. "Yes."
Ji-Ho met his eyes, steady and direct. "Please don't," he said simply. "It makes me uncomfortable."
There was no anger in his voice. No accusation. Just a boundary, clearly placed.
Mr. Yoo Joon nodded at once.
"Understood," he replied. "I won't do it again."
Ji-Ho inclined his head slightly, acknowledgment enough. He turned toward the exit.
As he reached the door, Mr. Yoo Joon spoke again, his tone measured.
"You skipped class because of this?."
Ji-Ho paused, then nodded once. "Yes. I did."
No excuses. No explanation.
He pushed the door open and stepped outside, the bell chiming softly behind him.
Mr. Yoo Joon remained by the counter, watching the door for a long moment—the watch secured in his hand, and a quiet understanding settling in the space Ji-Ho had left behind.
--
Ji-Woo pushed open the studio door with her shoulder, a cold drink tucked in her hand.
She was dressed simply—light blue jeans worn soft at the knees, a loose hoodie falling comfortably over her frame, sleeves slightly too long.
Her hair was down, natural, a little tousled like she hadn't bothered fixing it after stepping outside. Casual. Herself.
The studio buzzed with movement.
Cameras. Lights. Voices overlapping.
Her eyes searched instinctively.
Then she saw him.
Eun-Woo stood near the set, someone carefully adjusting the collar of his jacket. He looked focused, calm—different somehow. Taller. Sharper. Like he belonged under the lights.
Ji-Woo smiled before she realized it.
She walked toward him, lifting the drink slightly."Hey, Mr. Actor."
Eun-Woo turned, surprise flickering across his face before melting into something softer. "You're here."
She handed him the drink. "For energy. Or courage."
He chuckled quietly, taking it. "I'll need both."
They talked for a brief moment—nothing important. Small words. Familiar rhythm. Enough to steady him.
"Places!" someone called.
Eun-Woo nodded once and stepped away. Ji-Woo stayed back, watching.
And then she saw it.
The way he straightened.The way his voice carried.The way he slipped into the role like it had been waiting for him.
Confident. Passionate. Alive.
Ji-Woo felt something warm tighten in her chest.
Crunch.
"Hey, Muffin."
She didn't turn right away.
Ji-Bok stood behind her, camera hanging from his neck, one hand deep in a bag of chips, chewing loudly.
She sighed. "Why are you here?"
He shrugged. "I'm finally doing what I like. Got assigned to take photos of the cast." He shook the chip bag. "Also here for the food."
"Of course," she muttered.
The shoot wrapped, and Eun-Woo walked straight over to them.
His gaze landed on Ji-Bok first. Narrowed.
"You're the photographer," Eun-Woo said flatly.
Ji-Bok grinned. "Unfortunately."
"You need to take my photos," Eun-Woo added. "I'm modeling too."
Ji-Woo blinked. "You're modeling?"
Eun-Woo nodded, smiling like it wasn't a big deal.
Ji-Bok scoffed. "Why are you two still talking?" He lifted his camera. "Let's go before I lose interest."
Eun-Woo rolled his eyes and followed him toward the set.
That's when Ji-Woo's phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Unknown Number
Meet me here.
Address:Seoul, Seongdong-gu, Seongsu-dong 2-ga, Alley 17, Warehouse C
Her brows knit together.
She's been getting this text pretty often nowadays. But always she chose to ignore it.
But it ends up making her more curious.
Ji-Woo lifted her head, eyes following Eun-Woo and Ji-Bok as they walked away. For a second, she hesitated.
Then she turned and headed for the exit.
Behind her, Ji-Bok noticed—just a flicker of movement, the way she disappeared too quietly.
He paused.
But he didn't say anything.