Ji-Bok spotted her ahead, sunlight catching the ends of her long hair as it swayed against her back with every step.
"Yah—ae!"
Ji-Soo turned, her hair whipping lightly over her shoulder. He stopped right in front of her, breathless, then sighed like he'd been holding it in all morning and pulled her into a hug without thinking.
Her hair pressed against his chest for half a second.
Then—push.
"Hey!" She shoved him away, smoothing her hair back into place. "Don't do that."
He chuckled, hands raised. "I'm just saying—I'm happy you're staying."
She adjusted the strap of her bag, her fingers tightening slightly. "I'm not leaving yet. Not until I deal with Mi-Sook. And Ha-Rin."
His brows drew together. "Ha-Rin?"
She flicked her hair back again, avoiding his eyes. "Long story."
He tilted his head, studying her. "Figures."
Then he grinned suddenly. "Oh. I saw Ji-Woo earlier."
Her steps slowed. "You did?"
"Yeah. Short hair, calm smile. And some protective guy hovering behind her."
Ji-Soo's lips curved, a quiet laugh slipping out. "Should I guess… Min-Ju?"
Ji-Bok scoffed, shifting his bag higher on his shoulder. "Yeah. Whatever."
She nudged his arm with her elbow, her hair brushing his sleeve as they started walking side by side. "You notice more than you admit."
They headed toward the school gate. Ji-Bok adjusted his bag straps again, glancing at her when a breeze lifted her hair across her face.
"…Don't disappear again," he muttered.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, didn't answer—but kept walking beside him.
And that was enough.
--
The classroom door slid open.
Mi-Sook stepped in.
Chairs scraped softly as students turned. Whispers rippled through the room, low and curious, eyes flicking between desks.
Ji-Woo looked up.
Their eyes met.
Mi-Sook stopped for just a second—barely noticeable—but enough. Ji-Woo didn't look away. She leaned back in her chair, calm, almost lazy.
Then she smirked.
Mi-Sook's brows tightened. Confused. Uneasy. This wasn't the reaction she expected.
Is she not scared?
Mi-Sook sat down slowly, her bag landing heavier than usual. The whispers grew louder.
"Isn't that her…?" "Why are they staring like that?"
Ji-Woo rested her chin on her hand, still watching. Not angry. Not nervous.
Amused.
Mi-Sook glanced back once more, lips parting like she might say something—
Then she didn't.
She looked away, pretending to focus on her desk, while Ji-Woo's smirk lingered.
And for the first time, Mi-Sook felt it.
Something was wrong.
--
The night was cool, the air carrying the faint scent of the river below.
Streetlights stretched long, pale lines across the pavement, and the city seemed quieter than usual, as if holding its breath.
Eun-Woo's grip was firm, pulling Ji-Woo along by both hands.
"Eun-Woo—slow down! Hey! Let go!" she whined, half complaining, half exasperated.
"Just trust me," he said, voice low, almost pleading. "Come with me for a moment."
Her hair swirled around her face in the breeze as he tugged her forward. The bridge loomed ahead, the river reflecting lights that shimmered like glass.
He guided her to the railing, stopping and letting go of her hands for a brief moment, though he didn't step away.
"You used to like coming here," he said softly, voice almost lost in the wind. "Before… everything. You said this place made you feel calm, made you happy. Before the accident, before…"
Ji-Woo didn't answer. Her gaze was fixed on the water.
Eun-Woo's eyes moved to her forehead. A bandage.
"What's that?" he asked, concern sharpening his tone.
Ji-Woo shook her head. "Nothing."
He stepped closer. His hands rose gently, resting on her shoulders. "Ji-Woo. Look at me. What happened?"
"I said it's nothing," she replied, voice low, tense.
He reached for her bangs—but she jerked back instinctively.
"Don't," she said, a hint of warning in her voice.
Eun-Woo's hands softened, careful. He took both her wrists, and with a gentle sweep, pushed the strands aside himself.
His gaze fell on the bandage—but then froze.
"…Where's your birthmark?" he asked, voice catching slightly.
Ji-Woo gulped hard.
"Ji-Woo. Where is it?" he asked again.
She didn't answer.
"Where is it?" he pressed, taking a small step closer.
She stayed silent, her fingers tightening against his hands.
"I… I tried to cover it up," she whispered finally, almost inaudible.
He hesitated, confused, his expression torn.
"I… am—"
Before she could finish, a voice cut sharply through the night.
"Ji-Woo!"
She spun around.
Ji-Bok was walking briskly toward them, eyes narrowed. He reached her, grabbing her hand.
"We're going," he said, firm and fast.
He tugged her aside, pulling her away from Eun-Woo's reach.
"Hey—Ji-Woo!" Eun-Woo called out, stepping forward, but she didn't stop.
When they paused a few steps off, Ji-Woo looked up at him.
"Ji-Bok… what are you doing?" she asked, exasperated but calm.
"Saving you," he said simply, eyes flicking to Eun-Woo.
"I don't need saving," she said, voice soft but resolute. "I need to explain it to him."
"You don't have to," Ji-Bok said, a little softer now.
"Yes, I do," she replied firmly. "I'll make up a lie. Trust me."
She studied him for a moment, then slowly removed his hand from hers. Their eyes met—just for a heartbeat—before she turned back toward Eun-Woo.
Eun-Woo's gaze softened as she walked toward him, her hair catching the faint glow of the bridge lights.
Ji-Bok stayed behind, his jaw tight, watching her go.
The night was quiet again, but the tension between them lingered, unspoken and heavy, only broken by the soft sound of river water beneath the bridge.
Eun-Woo walked her back through the quiet streets, the night cool against their skin.
When they reached her house, he stopped, letting go of her hand.
"I'll… see you tomorrow," he said softly, voice low.
Ji-Woo nodded. "Yeah. Thanks."
He gave her a small, reassuring smile and turned, disappearing into the darkness.
She exhaled and stepped toward the door, bag slung over her shoulder—but something made her pause.
A shadow shifted near the side of the house.
She froze.
Calmly, quietly, she moved toward it, her senses alert. She didn't need to look twice. She already knew.
Ha-rin.
She had been following her for a while. Studying her movements. Studying her shadow.
"Ugh…" Ha-rin rolled her eyes, frustration clear in the curve of her mouth. "Finally. Tell me… what's going to happen? Where is it?"
Ji-Woo's lips curved into a faint, confident smile.
"That jewelry of yours?" she said slowly, letting the words hang. "You'll get it back."
Harin's eyes narrowed.
"From who?" she spat, venom laced in her tone.
Ji-Woo tilted her head, meeting her gaze squarely.
The night seemed to hold its breath.
"I don't know yet," she said softly.
They stared at each other, neither backing down, the street between them filled with unspoken tension—both aware that this was far from over.