Three days.
That's how long he'd been gone.
And not a single word.
Not a text.
Not a message.
Not even a hint of him at the library table they always shared.
Sera tried to play it cool — act like it didn't matter, like she wasn't checking the back row of the classroom every five minutes, or searching the halls after Literature Club.
But by Day Three, something inside her snapped.
And that something?
Had Jisoo's name all over it.
"Miss Kim," she said, approaching their homeroom teacher after class. "I need to drop off Jisoo's assignment."
The teacher blinked. "Oh, you're in the same group?"
Sera smiled, lying easily. "Yeah. He asked me to bring it to him since he's been… sick."
She swallowed the guilt.
The teacher nodded, scribbled something on a notepad, and handed her a small folded paper.
"Here. His home address."
Sera nodded a small thank you, already stuffing the paper into her pocket.
She wasn't just dropping off homework.
She was getting answers.
The sky was already turning gray when she arrived at the building.
His apartment complex wasn't far — three stops from her place, tucked behind a small bakery and a convenience store. The kind of place that looked lived-in but lonely.
She climbed the stairs, heart pounding in her throat.
Apartment 3B.
She knocked.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
No answer.
She hesitated, glanced at the paper in her hand, and sighed.
"Maybe he really doesn't want to see me," she whispered.
She turned.
And then—
the door opened.
She froze.
So did he.
Jisoo.
Standing there.
Shirtless.
His chest marked with bruises, faint and healing. A cut on his cheek. Another fading one along his ribs. His hair was messy, like he'd just woken up—or hadn't slept at all.
His eyes were wide with shock.
"Sera?"
She didn't breathe.
Didn't blink.
Just stared at him.
He stepped back instinctively, gripping the doorframe like he might fall over.
"I—I thought you…" he stopped. Swallowed. "I thought you'd never want to see me again."
Her voice was hoarse. "How could I?"
He looked like he didn't believe her.
Didn't know how to believe her.
"You're hurt," she said softly.
He glanced down at himself, then back up—shame creeping into his expression like a shadow.
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not."
Silence.
Rain started to fall again outside, softly tapping against the stairwell window.
She looked at him. He looked like a sculpture—beautiful and broken.
And in that moment, Sera did the only thing she could.
She stepped forward, gently pushed the door open wider, and whispered—
"Let me in."