NT - 13

One of her eyes wouldn’t open properly.

Even breathing felt unnatural, as if air were being artificially forced into her lungs rather than inhaled through her nose. So, despite regaining consciousness, all she could rely on was her faint hearing.

Hae-soo.

Someone kept calling her name. That rough, cracked voice was soaked with dampness. Struggling to lift her right eyelid—since her left eye was in poor condition—she saw, as expected, Seo Hae-seung’s tear-streaked face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I must’ve completely lost my mind. I must’ve gone crazy… That bastard, me, I… I hurt you…”

He was pleading with her, looking as if he wouldn’t hesitate to throw himself off a high-rise building at that very moment. As she stared at his strange appearance, the memories of what had happened before she lost consciousness began to resurface.

It wasn’t until later that she realized Seo Hae-seung was holding her hand. Once she became aware of it, she immediately wanted to pull away. A thick, black fog of emotions seeped into the back of her mind, drenching her in discomfort. She couldn’t tell if it was fear or disgust—or perhaps both had merged into an indistinguishable mess. Whatever the case, being touched by Seo Hae-seung made her feel like a hostage.

Yet, it was as if someone had drained every last drop of strength from her body; she couldn’t move at all.

Her vision kept blurring and clearing in cycles. What was once distinguishable by the naked eye suddenly smudged into indistinct shapes, as if someone had painted over it with a blur effect. It stayed like that for a while. Though she was awake, it felt as if she weren’t. Her consciousness was barely holding on, like a faint crack in the surface of a mirror.

Seo Hae-seung was not alone.

Standing behind him was someone else—Seo Mu-won. He must have been swamped with work because, for the first time in a while, he was wearing glasses. His face was unreadable, complicated with too many emotions at once.

And then, an overlapping memory struck her—a flash of him forcing himself inside her despite her resistance.

A loud noise suddenly erupted.

Both brothers, who had been standing like guardians, turned their heads urgently. Someone shouted, and the chaotic sound of objects clashing filled the air, tangling together in a way that only worsened her headache. The pain in her skull throbbed, forcing her to swallow dryly. At that moment, a deep shadow loomed over her downcast eyes.

Someone slipped a hand under the pillow supporting Hae-soo’s head.

“Take your hands off her.”

It was Lee Ho-beom’s voice.

“She’s not staying here. Move.”

“If you remove the oxygen mask now, she won’t be able to breathe properly. She has pneumothorax—her lungs aren’t functioning well enough for independent breathing.”

Seo Mu-won’s weary voice responded to the protest.

“Fuck, and whose fault is that?”

His words were drenched in rage, as if he wanted to tear someone apart piece by piece. But despite his anger, the large hand supporting Hae-soo’s head didn’t recklessly lift her into his arms.

“Then at least get rid of that little bastard.”

“What makes you think you can decide that? And why the hell are you suddenly playing the thug here…?”

The hospital room erupted into a noisy commotion. Seo Hae-seung, who had been pathetically shedding tears just moments ago, completely lost control upon Lee Ho-beom’s sudden appearance.

A sharp pain exploded in her skull, and Hae-soo let out a weak groan. She could vaguely feel multiple gazes landing on her.

A moment later, the room quieted down. It seemed someone had forcibly removed Seo Hae-seung from the room.

“We need to get that psycho locked up in a mental hospital as soon as possible.”

“……”

“If not, I might actually kill your brother.”

Lee Ho-beom’s voice was as cold as a blade, his threat as brutal as the words themselves. Yet, despite being the target, Seo Mu-won didn’t respond. No sarcastic retorts, no arguments. Just silence, thick and suffocating, settled between them.

Hae-soo couldn’t swallow the weight of that strange atmosphere. She barely managed to hold it in, then finally let it slip away, closing her eyes.

________________________________________

It was a full week later when Hae-soo was finally able to remove the oxygen mask.

As a nurse adjusted her IV drip, she softly explained Hae-soo’s condition.

Rib fractures. The injury had caused pneumothorax, leading to breathing difficulties. That was why she had been on oxygen for several days. Additionally, the reason her left eye wouldn’t open was that a shard of glass from a shattered frame had cut her eyelid, requiring a thick gauze patch. Underneath her hospital gown, bandages and dressings covered various wounds on her arms and legs.

Once her mind cleared a bit, she took in her surroundings properly.

It was a luxurious private hospital room, as grand as a hotel suite. It was undoubtedly arranged by Seo Mu-won. Since her rib fractures were the biggest concern, she couldn’t be discharged immediately. Surgery wasn’t necessary, but the bones needed time to heal. She had to wear a brace to minimize movement and stay in the hospital for a while.

But even though her body was in recovery, Hae-soo couldn’t relax. The memory of Seo Hae-seung’s violence and the venom in his words lingered like a heavy weight pressing against her broken ribs. Time passed meaninglessly as she remained dazed. She knew she was merely wasting her days, but it didn’t feel real—like someone had plucked her brain out, leaving her in a perpetual stupor. It was as if all of her senses had lost their colors after that night of pain.

“Are you hungry? Should I peel you some fruit?”

Seo Mu-won had never once visited her.

Instead, he had assigned a caretaker—a middle-aged woman who chatted endlessly, even when Hae-soo remained silent.

She watched absentmindedly as the woman skillfully peeled an apple, slicing the skin into long, curling ribbons.

Unlike Seo Mu-won, who had completely disappeared, Lee Ho-beom came to visit her almost daily, as if wearing down the threshold of the hospital room. Even that apple in the caretaker’s hands had been brought by him.

But he never did anything in particular. He would sit at the edge of her bed or lean against a chair, watching her silently before eventually leaving.

“Should I transfer you to another hospital?”

Only one question remained.

He seemed eager to remove himself from this place if possible. Sharing a hospital room with a guardian must have been unpleasant for him. But he did not appear to be forcing the issue. If Hae-soo remained silent and shook her head, he would simply acknowledge it, brush his cheek once, or glance at the brace worn over her hospital gown before leaving the room.

It was a behavior that evoked past memories—the awkward days when he frequently came and went from her tiny rented room after casually tossing her an absurd proposal: whether she would rather be sold to a brothel or not.

When she thought back to those times, one phrase always surfaced.

“Don’t live miserably. Live shrewdly.”

She wasn’t refusing Lee Ho-beom’s suggestion to transfer hospitals because she liked her current guardian.

It was simply that he no longer represented hope to her.

A few days ago, the doctor had cautiously asked her, after the usual round of basic questions, whether she needed psychiatric counseling.

At first, she hadn’t understood the meaning behind it. It was only later that she realized—her body still bore unmistakable traces of the sexual assault inflicted on her by those three men. The doctor must have considered that possibility when asking the question. They had likely witnessed her sitting blankly, without any sign of willpower, numerous times since she had woken up and been taken off the oxygen mask. It wouldn’t have been difficult to make that assumption.

This was probably why Lee Ho-beom couldn’t recklessly impose his will on her. Even if all the hospitalization records had been passed along to the guardian, he must have found some way to dig into her condition.

There was only one reason Hae-soo remained in the hospital room provided by him.

She had to meet him.

There was something she had to ask.

A silver fruit knife, its blade separating flesh from peel, wavered over her unfocused pupils. Hae-soo’s gaze remained fixed on the knife the entire time.

It was several days later when the guardian, who had been absent without a word, finally reappeared. It happened in the afternoon, around the time the doctor routinely made his rounds.

Upon seeing Hae-soo sitting upright after being taken off the oxygen mask, he took a seat on the sofa in the hospital room.

As the doctor explained that she would be taken to the examination room for a CT scan to check the condition of her fractured ribs, Hae-soo quietly kept her eyes lowered.

On the days when nightmares like murky swamps clung to her ankles, one phrase that Seo Hae-seung had once spoken kept circling her ears without fail.

“Take my hand and come down.”

The nurse standing beside the doctor reached out a hand toward Hae-soo. Supported by the nurse, she climbed down from the bed and lifted her head.

The guardian, as if intending to follow her to the examination room, was rising from his seat.

As she watched him approach, Hae-soo suddenly pushed the nurse’s hand away.

“Ah!”

With the nurse’s startled cry, Hae-soo staggered backward toward the corner of the hospital room and pulled out what she had been hiding.

Unfolding the napkin she had roughly wrapped around it, she revealed a blunt but still sharp enough instrument—one that could inflict real harm.

The medical staff gasped sharply, and the guardian stopped in his tracks.

Pressing her back against the wall, Hae-soo brought the fruit knife to her throat.

“Patient, what are you doing!”

“Put that down!”

No matter what chaos erupted behind him, the guardian only kept his gaze fixed on Hae-soo.

As if asserting that only he could provide the answers she sought, Hae-soo met his eyes with her only intact right eye, still uncovered by gauze.

Her lips, pale enough to prove her frailty as a hospitalized patient, trembled violently as they parted.

“Seo Hae-seung said something strange to me.”

His words refused to disappear.

No matter how much she tried to extinguish them, she couldn’t.

Because this was the greatest unanswered question in her life.

She recalled the countless photographs that had fluttered against her face before scattering onto the floor.

The fact that the guardian’s interest in her had started far earlier than she had assumed.

And the sight of him at her mother’s funeral.

Everything was a mystery.

“He said that you... played around with my father’s business investment funds.”

“Do you even know who ruined everything overnight?” Seo Hae-seung’s voice clung to her ears like sticky mucus.

Hae-soo shook her head as if to rid herself of the thought.

Because of that motion, the sharp edge of the knife carelessly scraped over the blue vein running along her neck. A red scratch appeared, but the pain was faint. It was too insignificant to concern herself with now, overwhelmed as she was by the sheer weight of the truth standing before her.

“That’s not true, is it?”

“......”

“You had no reason to do such a thing, did you...?”

That couldn’t be.

But if it were true, then she would finally understand why her father’s business had collapsed so suddenly.

During the time she had waited for the guardian, two extreme thoughts had clashed inside her mind.

It must be true.

No, it couldn’t be.

If it was true, then why?

If it wasn’t, then why?

It was a sea of uncertainties she could not resolve on her own.

The answer was not something she could ask herself.

It was a truth that only the guardian knew and had to reveal.

But no answer came.

Why?

If it wasn’t true, he only had to say so.

Just one word—no.

Why was he keeping his mouth shut so resolutely?

To Hae-soo, this silence felt like an omen of misfortune.

Her fingers, gripping the knife, trembled faintly.

The blade, though blunt, was still sharp enough to cut into her delicate skin.

And yet, the pain was faint.

All her senses were consumed by the guardian.

As his silence stretched on, the abyss into which she was sinking deepened.

While she waited for his response, the hospital room door opened, revealing a dark silhouette.

Lee Ho-beom entered quietly, his gaze sweeping over the chaotic scene.

Hae-soo, unable to wait any longer, pressed the knife harder against her throat.

Perhaps she had gone deeper than intended, for a bead of blood, first forming like a droplet, soon trailed down the blade.

A chilling sight.

The moment he saw the raw wound, the guardian’s lips finally parted—as if seized by an inescapable force.

“As I’ve said before, I only invest in things that I find worth investing in. The opposite applies as well.”

“…….”

“I simply followed proper procedures to withdraw my investment when I judged that the business President Ahn was running didn’t have a promising future.”

On the surface, his words seemed well-polished, but their meaning was painfully close to the truth Hae-soo had been avoiding. He had withdrawn his investment, causing her father’s business to falter significantly. From the crisis that followed, Hae-soo’s misfortunes had begun.

“Did my father… do something to offend you?”

Her father had desperately wanted investment from him, and he had been confident in securing it. Just as he had expected, he obtained the funds. It had been a smooth transaction, yielding the anticipated results. A company as established as Seongjo wouldn’t have made an investment without carefully weighing its prospects and potential returns. So, for them to suddenly retract the full investment on such vague grounds—Hae-soo couldn’t accept it. It seemed too deliberate, too malicious.

“There was nothing like that.”

Amid the chaos clouding her mind, one truth surfaced with piercing clarity.

If she set everything else aside, there was no real reason to challenge Seo Mu-won’s decision. Since he had provided the funds, the money was his. If he chose to take it back, no one else had the right to object.

And yet, why did it feel like her insides were being ripped apart?

“Then when you withdrew your investment, did you not anticipate… that my family would end up like this?”

Had Seongjo never invested in the first place, her father would have found another way to secure funding. He would have sought out a different investor. But Seongjo had readily provided the investment, allowing him to build and expand the business. He had been accelerating toward success when, all of a sudden, the very foundation—the capital he relied on—was pulled out from under him, like water draining from a cracked jar. It was inevitable that the project would grind to a halt, that the future of the business would be thrown into uncertainty.

Could Seo Mu-won really not have foreseen this?

Once again, he remained silent.

Even after she waited far longer than before, no answer came.

Ironically, that silence became the answer.

Clang.

The fruit knife in her hand slipped and hit the floor. A dull, throbbing pain surged inside her, unbearable, and Hae-soo collapsed onto the spot. She could hear the frantic footsteps of the medical staff rushing toward her, but she couldn’t move. The taste of blood seeped through her lips, bitten raw, and before she realized it, tears were spilling onto the floor.

Seo Mu-won had known everything.

He had known that withdrawing the investment would inevitably create problems for her father’s business.

If he had been fully aware of that yet still proceeded, could it really be said that he wasn’t responsible for her family’s downfall? Could he simply dismiss it as his own right, as something unrelated to her?

At least, for Hae-soo, that was impossible.

Her family had collapsed because of Seo Mu-won. His sudden, unexpected change of heart had caused her father’s business to crumble. Her mother had taken her own life, hanging herself. And she—she had ended up in this wretched state.

Yet she had held his hand, accepted his help, surrendered her body to him…

What… what had she done?

What had she been doing all this time?

Now that she had seen the other side of the man she had once mistaken for hope, the truth was all the more devastating.

A towel was pressed against her still-bleeding neck. The scent of musk faded into the background, replaced by the pungent smell of cigarettes.

But none of it mattered.

In this moment, more than ever, Hae-soo wanted to follow after her mother.

________________________________________

If life were a cycle of seasons, then the truth she had uncovered was like the wind.

A mere breeze that rustled the delicate branches as it passed. And yet, just as a gust could shake a tree and send its buds tumbling to the ground, this wind had caused undeniable change.

Most of all, it changed Seo Mu-won.

The man who, at the start of her hospitalization, had been indifferent was now controlling who could visit her. Not that there had been many visitors to begin with—besides the medical staff, only Lee Ho-beom had come. But now, even he was cut off.

And unlike before, when he had only visited sporadically, Seo Mu-won now came to see her every single day.

Whenever he occupied a corner of her spacious hospital room, Hae-soo would pull the blanket over herself and turn her back to him. Perhaps her body still required rest, because exhaustion weighed heavily on her, dragging her into sleep. As she drifted between wakefulness and slumber, she would sometimes feel fingers brushing through her hair.

Since the only person who ever remained in the hospital room besides the medical staff was him, she could guess whose hand it was.

Understanding Seo Mu-won’s thoughts had always been difficult, but after learning the truth, it became impossible. Her weary mind had given up trying. She no longer cared to decipher him. Now, any contemplation of him only led back to the miserable fate her life had become.

The caregiver who had once peeled fruit for her was dismissed that very day. No other caregiver was brought in to replace them. Instead, Seo Mu-won stayed.

Not that she spoke to him often.

One night, Hae-soo pulled the blanket over her head. She deliberately let out small, stifled coughs, as if she were struggling to breathe. Soon, she heard cautious footsteps approaching. He hesitated near her bedside before carefully pulling the blanket down. She clutched her chest and let out a choked gasp.

Seo Mu-won’s face tensed immediately. Without a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the nurse call button attached to the head of the bed. His large hand smoothed her hair, then traced slow, soothing circles over her chest, as if trying to ease her discomfort. There was undeniable concern in his touch, and that only twisted her insides further.

A nurse arrived shortly after, checking on her condition before prescribing medication and leaving. Seo Mu-won watched the entire process without looking away. As if frustrated, he undid the top button of his shirt. It was a rare sight—him looking disheveled, even in the slightest.

“If you’re in pain, why don’t you say so?”

________________________________________

After swallowing the medicine handed to her by the nurse and taking a sip of water, Hae-soo lay back down without responding. She pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, turning her back to him. From behind, she could feel his gaze settling on her, heavy and unrelenting. A sigh followed—a deep one, filled with frustration and something like sorrow. Even so, she didn’t react.

The next day, as Hae-soo had expected, a new caregiver arrived.

But the person was different this time. The previous caregiver had been a warm and chatty middle-aged woman, whereas this one was more businesslike, speaking only when necessary. Not that it mattered to Hae-soo. What she truly needed wasn’t a caregiver—but the wallet the caregiver carried.

When the caregiver left her alone to use the restroom, Hae-soo reached for the unattended wallet. Fortunately, it was packed with cash, enough that taking a few bills wouldn’t be immediately noticeable.

The day after she took the money, the CT scan—previously canceled due to the incident where she had suddenly grabbed a knife—was rescheduled. It happened to be a time when Seo Mu-won was out due to external commitments.

“When the machine lights up and blinks three times, hold your breath,” the nurse instructed.

Thanks to days of near-complete stillness, sitting motionless like a wax figure, her condition had improved significantly. The tight, constricting pain in her chest when she bent forward had almost disappeared, and the dry cough from her pneumothorax had all but subsided.

Lying on the large machine, Hae-soo waited until the nurse finished giving instructions and left the examination room. The moment the door closed, she sprang up.

She had been to this room enough times to memorize its layout. This was her fourth visit, and she knew there were two doors. The left door led to the control room where the nurse had gone to operate the medical equipment. The right door opened into the hospital hallway.

Without hesitation, Hae-soo pushed open the right door and stepped into the hallway.

If she was going to attempt an escape, the examination room was a far better choice than her patient room, which was guarded by security personnel.

Would Seo Mu-won really try to stop her? She wasn’t sure. But when she recalled the look in his eyes as she had pressed a knife to her throat, she couldn’t afford to be careless.

The man who had driven her family into ruin—into a pit so deep they couldn’t claw their way out—had looked at her with an emotion so deep, so raw, it was almost unbearable to witness.

Whatever the case, she had no intention of staying by his side any longer. This decision was inevitable.

She weaved swiftly through the patients in the hallway, bypassing the crowded elevators in favor of the emergency stairwell. Fortunately, the examination rooms were located on a lower floor, and she reached the hospital’s ground-floor lobby in no time.

The hospital was large, and the lobby was packed with outpatients and visitors. As she stepped outside, the muggy summer air brushed against her face. The weight of the season bore down on her, the lush greenery of summer looming over her like a predator ready to consume its prey.

She climbed into a waiting taxi, drawing a curious glance from the driver. Dressed in hospital scrubs, she was an unusual sight.

“Uh… Miss, are you…?”

“To the terminal, please.”

The driver still looked bewildered, but when she turned her gaze to the window, silently signaling the end of the conversation, he reluctantly shifted the gear into drive.

Through the rear window, she could see the hospital entrance growing smaller and smaller. No one was chasing after her.

Seo Mu-won had always been like that.

It was as if he had drawn an invisible circle around her—one that didn’t physically exist, yet remained firmly in her mind, always making her look back over her shoulder.

It had been the same when she had snuck around to meet Lee Ho-beom. And now, even in this moment…

Despite being a weekday afternoon, the terminal was bustling.

People with heavy bundles and large backpacks crowded around the ticket booths, busy navigating the kiosks to buy their tickets. Some chatted with their companions, while others spoke loudly on the phone, their voices adding to the noise.

Amidst the commotion, many passersby stole glances at a lone figure sitting on a wooden bench. Some murmured among themselves, mentioning the police or a hospital.

But ultimately, their curiosity was fleeting, as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind. Most dismissed her, assuming someone else would handle it, and simply continued on their way.

The same would have been true for a woman pulling a suitcase through the crowd—if only she hadn’t recognized the face of the person sitting there in a hospital gown, staring blankly into space.

“…Hae-soo?”

While others merely threw passing glances, Hae-soo remained dazed, unresponsive to the whispers around her. But at the sound of her name, brushing against her ears, she lifted her head slightly.

The woman, who had straightened her tilted suitcase upon recognizing her, hurried over in shock.

“It is you, Hae-soo. What are you doing here?”

“…Ah, well…”

“But wait—are you okay? What’s with the hospital gown? And your face, what happened?”

“Your name… I… your name…”

A splitting headache had plagued Hae-soo ever since she arrived at the terminal. The woman’s face was familiar. They had spoken before. Hotel restaurant. Serving. Changing rooms. University… Fragments of memory swirled chaotically in her mind.

And yet, she couldn’t recall her name.

Her inability to remember something so simple—so basic—made her feel utterly worthless.

“I—I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t remember your name…”

“Hae-soo!”

A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders, giving her a firm shake—a gentle yet urgent plea for her to pull herself together.

“It’s me, Eun-ji. Ha Eun-ji. Are you okay?”

Ah, right. Eun-ji.

Hae-soo finally recalled the name, murmuring it weakly under her breath as she looked up.

“So what if you forgot my name? I forget things sometimes too. But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“…I…”

“Where are you going? Did you buy a ticket?”

Hae-soo hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.

“You didn’t? Then what are you waiting for? Oh, wait—do you not have any money? Do you need me to lend you some?”

Just like when they had met in the locker room once before, her exceptionally sociable nature stood out. Faced with Eun-ji’s warm concern, Hae-soo stammered as she opened her mouth.

“Well, I… I have nowhere to go…”

“Huh?”

“I have nowhere to go…”

Eun-ji, who had been speaking in rapid succession out of concern, suddenly looked flustered. Seeing her dumbfounded expression, Hae-soo felt as if she had said something wrong. But it was the truth. She had left the hospital and arrived at the terminal, but she couldn’t take a single step forward. Just as she had said, she had nowhere to go.

As she confided this overwhelming feeling to someone, an odd emptiness inside her gave way to rising sobs. Tears welled up uncontrollably, dampening the corners of her eyes.

Eun-ji stared at Hae-soo, who had her head lowered, silently shedding tears after saying something incomprehensible about having nowhere to go. She couldn’t figure out why Hae-soo was sitting here in a hospital gown, why her once-unblemished face and limbs were now covered in gauze and bandages.

However, at the very least, there was no doubt that she looked extremely unstable. If they had been strangers, she might have walked away. But since they knew each other, even if only slightly, she couldn’t bring herself to ignore her and leave her like this.

“Uh… then do you want to come with me?”

Eun-ji hesitated for a moment before suggesting, “I’m on my way to visit my grandmother in the countryside. If you’re okay with it, come with me.”

Her tone was more serious than if she were just saying it casually. It wasn’t the kind of thing you say just to console someone either.

There was no need to think about it. If not for Eun-ji’s extended hand, Hae-soo had nothing else to grasp.

When she nodded, Eun-ji led her to a clothing store in one corner of the terminal.

“You can’t really take the bus dressed like that.”

Fortunately, since it was the season for light clothing, they were able to find something inexpensive. Hae-soo glanced at the discarded hospital gown in the store’s trash bin before turning away.

After purchasing the ticket and heading to the boarding area, they found that the bus they needed to take was already waiting. Following Eun-ji, who loaded her suitcase into the luggage compartment, Hae-soo stepped onto the bus.

It was surprising that Eun-ji had reached out to help her, considering they weren’t particularly close. The silence between them during the ride only emphasized that. In truth, Eun-ji had dozed off early, mentioning that she tended to get motion sickness, leaving Hae-soo with no one to talk to. She gazed out the window, watching the rapidly shifting scenery.

When had her life become so unsettled, constantly flowing without ever finding a place to rest?

As if she wanted to let go of something, or perhaps hold onto it, she repeatedly clenched and unclenched the curtain in her hand.

Eun-ji’s grandmother’s house was in a quiet fishing village overlooking the sea.

It was so deep in the countryside that even after getting off at the terminal, they had to transfer to another local bus and ride for quite a while. After repeating this process several times, they finally arrived at the village, where the deep blue sea stretched out before them, and the sky had already turned an ink-like shade of dusk.

Devoid of the dazzling city lights, the village carried a distinct rural charm.

“It’s kind of far, huh?”

As they climbed a steep hill, Eun-ji asked. Hae-soo simply smiled as if to say it was fine. They kept walking until they finally arrived in front of a blue gate, its paint peeling off and creaking as it swayed loosely.

“This is it.”

Creak.

As the gate squeaked open, a loud barking erupted—woof woof!—and a fluffy white dog came dashing toward Eun-ji, straining against its leash.

“You’ve been doing well, Deokgu?”

Eun-ji plopped down beside her suitcase and scratched the Jindo dog’s chin. The dog’s tail twitched in delight, its fur bristling slightly before wagging gently in the air.

Hae-soo hesitated, standing awkwardly, before carefully crouching beside Eun-ji.

Deokgu, the Jindo, had no hesitation toward people and quickly approached Hae-soo, rubbing against her. Unused to dogs, Hae-soo hesitated nervously, while Eun-ji pushed the half-open gate wider and stepped inside. Deokgu lingered by Hae-soo for a moment, wagging his tail before following Eun-ji in.

“Grandma!”

Eun-ji left her suitcase on the porch and stepped up onto the creaky wooden floor, peeking into the various rooms. Meanwhile, Hae-soo remained in the yard, glancing around the house.

A small doghouse with a green roof and a red body stood to one side, next to two neatly placed onggi crocks. A simple cement platform with a faucet was positioned nearby.

Having grown up in Seoul, the scene felt entirely unfamiliar to Hae-soo.

Eun-ji continued searching for her grandmother, but there was no sign of the presence she had hoped for. Seemingly unbothered, she waved her hand dismissively.

“Where’s your grandmother?”

“She’s not here. She’s probably at the village hall. If she’s not at home, she’s almost always there.”

Eun-ji then asked if Hae-soo was hungry. She shook her head. She felt more tired than hungry.

Even though all she had done was travel, it had been so long since she had moved around this much that exhaustion had built up. Though her condition had improved enough that she no longer needed to wear a brace, she was far from fully recovered.

“The bathroom is over there. Let the water run for a bit, and it’ll warm up. I’ll lend you some of my clothes to sleep in.”

Since it was already late, they agreed to head to bed right away.

Only then did Hae-soo catch a full glimpse of herself in the mirror.

A dry laugh escaped her lips. It was no wonder.

Her left eye was covered with a square gauze pad, and her neck was wrapped in bandages from the wounds inflicted by a box cutter. On top of that, band-aids and other small dressings were scattered across her arms and legs.

She had wondered why Eun-ji had helped her, but looking at herself now, it was clear. Anyone would have done the same after seeing her like this.

There were no extra medical supplies, so she simply washed her hands and feet before coming out. Eun-ji led her to a small room. Inside, a simple bedding setup lay on the floor. Hae-soo lay down on it.

The blanket was thin, but since it was summer, it would be fine.

When she quietly murmured her thanks, Eun-ji gave a slight smile and left the room.

The only light seeping into the dark room came from the streetlamp outside, filtering through the window by the gate.

How did I even end up here?

Everything had happened so quickly that it felt surreal. It was as if she had suddenly dropped into this countryside home without realizing it.

And yet, she had no choice but to take Eun-ji’s hand.

Back at the terminal, when she had sat there like a stranded soul, she had truly felt lost. Like a mouse trapped in a maze, unable to move forward or back. Unlike the people bustling around her, following their own schedules, she had felt like a rock, eroded over time by relentless waves.

Of course, she knew that just coming here wouldn’t solve everything.

When looking back on it later, Hae-soo knew that going with Eun-ji wasn’t her only option. There was also a man who had offered to transfer her to another hospital because he disliked the one where Seomu-won was staying.

Lee Hobum.

If she had accepted his help, she wouldn’t have had to escape from the hospital in such a pitiful manner.

And yet, she hadn’t.

It was because she had grown utterly sick of choosing one person just to avoid another. That pattern had become a vicious cycle, constantly dragging her down. She had stumbled within that cycle, and in the end, hadn’t she given herself up to the very man who had crushed her family?

Reaching out for help again after experiencing that bitter taste would have been nothing but self-destruction.

Perhaps because of the overwhelming thoughts piling up in her mind, she couldn’t fully relax even as she lay down.

Hae-soo slowly closed her eyes. At the very least, this night was better than the one in Seomu-won’s hospital room.

________________________________________

“…Hae-soo. Hae-soo.”

The gentle shaking of her shoulder pulled her out of sleep. Though the touch was careful, maybe because she was in an unfamiliar place, her body immediately sensed it, and she awoke quickly.

“Come eat. You didn’t have dinner yesterday, so you must be hungry.”

Eun-ji, dressed in a short-sleeved T-shirt and comfortable sweatpants, stepped out of the small room. Hae-soo ran a hand through her messy hair and followed her outside. On the wooden porch where there had been nothing the night before, a small, dark purple table had been set.

Dukgu, bursting with energy in the morning, was running excitedly around the porch. As Hae-soo slipped her feet into her shoes and stepped into the yard, Dukgu panted happily and rushed over, rubbing its head against her feet.

She hesitated to pet him this time, not because she disliked dogs, but because of the person sitting with a hunched back at the table.

“Come here, Hae-soo.”

Eun-ji, now seated on the porch, gestured for her to come closer. Sensing movement, the elderly woman who had been arranging dishes on the table turned around. Feeling awkward, Hae-soo bowed her head slightly before stepping up onto the porch.

“Grandma, this is my friend I told you about yesterday.”

Eun-ji introduced her in a far more familiar way than their actual relationship warranted. As she spoke, she pushed a plate toward Hae-soo. It was a bowl of abalone porridge, freshly made, with wisps of steam rising from it.

“Just in case.”

It seemed that Eun-ji had noticed the hospital gown she had been wearing yesterday and the visible injuries on her face and had prepared something gentle on the stomach.

Murmuring a small thank you, Hae-soo accepted the spoon Eun-ji handed her. But as she took a bite, she felt an intense gaze fixed on her.

“You’re Eun-ji’s friend, child?”

With the spoon still in her mouth, Hae-soo blinked and nodded slightly. Eun-ji’s grandmother, who bore a strong resemblance to her granddaughter, squinted her eyes.

“You have such a pretty face… So how did you end up looking like you got beaten up?”

“Grandma! What do you mean, ‘beaten up’?!”

Startled by the blunt words, Eun-ji’s voice rose in protest. Caught between them, Hae-soo hesitated, unsure of what to do. Sensing her discomfort, Eun-ji poured her a cup of water, as if to say not to mind it.

The abalone porridge went down smoothly, and just as she was about to take another bite—

Thump.

A sudden smack landed on her back, making her flinch in surprise.

“Ah! If you haven’t done anything wrong, sit up straight. Don’t slouch, or your back will hunch.”

“Grandma, you can just say that, you don’t have to hit her!”

It wasn’t a strike meant to hurt but rather a rough, affectionate touch. It was more surprising than painful, so Hae-soo didn’t mind. But Eun-ji was so shocked that she let out a loud yelp. The two began bickering again, and Hae-soo silently ate her porridge while watching them.

It was as if she were peering into a peaceful world far removed from her own.

“So, is she a college friend from Seoul?”

“No, we met while working part-time together.”

Eun-ji replied as she finally picked up her chopsticks and started eating.

“You know, that short-term job I did at the hotel restaurant?”

As she explained to her grandmother, Eun-ji suddenly turned to Hae-soo.

“Now that I think about it, why did you suddenly quit? You just disappeared, and when I asked, they said you left for good.”

“Ah… I had some things to take care of.”

Back then, she had been so consumed with running away from Seo Hae-seung that she couldn’t pay attention to anything else—including that job. Thinking about how short her time there had actually been, it felt even more surreal that Eun-ji was helping her so much now.

“You have no idea how disappointed the guys at work were when you left.”

“What?”

“There were quite a few who wanted to talk to you. Since I was the only one who had managed to have a conversation with you, they kept pestering me to set something up. But before they got the chance, you quit, and they lost all hope.”

Eun-ji shrugged as she said this, as if amused.

Now that she thought about it, she really had kept to herself back then, avoiding others almost completely. A large part of that was due to the paranoia that Seo Hae-seung had planted in her—that someone among them might be his informant.

Now, it seemed excessive. But if she went back to that time, she knew she would do the exact same thing again.

Absentmindedly, she touched the bandages around her neck.

As soon as breakfast ended, her grandmother groaned about her aching back and disappeared into the inner room. Looking at the table, Hae-soo volunteered to do the dishes.

“I’ll do it. You’re injured, you don’t have to—go rest over there.”

No matter how much Hae-soo insisted, Eun-ji was as unyielding as ever. In the end, Hae-soo stepped out onto the wooden floor where she could see the sky and sat down. Her lower body was still swollen, making it difficult to sit cross-legged, so she pulled up her knees instead. Hugging her arms around them, she gazed up at the vast, clear sky. The serenity of the moment felt entirely out of place compared to her current situation.

It was quiet and leisurely. It almost felt like she was dreaming.

After finishing the dishes, Eun-ji went into the room and returned with something in her hands.

“I picked these up at the pharmacy this morning.”

In her grasp was a fairly large medicine bag and a small round mirror. When Eun-ji flipped the bag over onto the floor, bandages, gauze, ointment, and other medical supplies spilled out.

“I figured you’d need to change that.”

“Oh... Thank you.”

Hae-soo carefully removed the gauze covering her left eyelid.

“It’s healed quite a bit. How did you get hurt?”

“I got scratched by a piece of glass...”

“Ugh, that must’ve hurt.”

Eun-ji, seeing that the wound had improved, decided that gauze was no longer necessary and simply applied some ointment. Next, she moved to Hae-soo’s neck. As she examined the wound, Eun-ji hesitated, her lips parting slightly as if she was at a loss for words. Perhaps she was remembering the time when the injury was fresh—when Hae-soo’s skin had been deeply split and blood had been dripping down. But to Hae-soo, this was already a vast improvement. If Eun-ji found this shocking, she would probably be utterly dumbfounded if she knew about the fractured ribs.

“What happened here?”

“I got cut.”

“Cut? By who?”

Hae-soo, who had been answering easily up until now, shut her mouth.

No matter how understanding Eun-ji was, if she knew that this wound was self-inflicted, she would certainly find it disturbing. The memory of pressing a knife to her own throat while facing Seomu-won resurfaced in Hae-soo’s mind. Back then, she had done it because she knew that Seomu-won would never give her a straight answer if she asked outright. The matter had been so important to her that she had been willing to harm herself just to hear the truth from him.

As Eun-ji applied ointment to the healing wound, her phone suddenly buzzed on the floor. She glanced at the caller ID and immediately scowled, pushing the phone away as if she couldn’t stand the sight of it. Hae-soo, surprised by her reaction, widened her eyes. Noticing the curiosity in Hae-soo’s gaze, Eun-ji gave a short explanation.

“Oh, it’s my boyfriend.”

“Then why aren’t you answering?”

“Ex-boyfriend, to be exact.”

“...Oh.”

“He cheated on me. With a junior from our department.”

After finishing the treatment, Eun-ji wiped the excess ointment from her fingers and stretched her arms behind her. Supporting herself with her hands, she naturally tilted her head back, looking up at the sky.

“Normally, I’d spend my breaks in Seoul, working part-time since I had a boyfriend there. But this time, I came down because of that mess. I was so furious.”

“Oh...”

“They were sneaking around behind my back, and when I caught them, they suddenly started apologizing. Look at him calling me now. Isn’t it ridiculous? If he was going to feel sorry, he shouldn’t have done something that would hurt me in the first place.”

Eun-ji shook her head, clearly still seething. Meanwhile, her phone continued to vibrate.

“I’m not taking a break from school, so I’m only staying here for the summer.”

“Huh?”

“I’m heading back up before the semester starts.”

Hae-soo immediately understood the implication.

So, until then, she was welcome to stay here.

Woof!

A cheerful bark came from her feet. It was Deokgu, who had wandered over and now rested his chin on the wooden floor, looking up at her expectantly. As she scratched his fluffy white forehead, his black eyes narrowed in contentment, and he panted happily.

Following Eun-ji’s lead, Hae-soo looked up at the sky.

For the first time in a long while, she felt like she had found a place to catch her breath.

________________________________________

“Well, now you’re quick at it.”

Grandmother, who had returned from visiting the neighbors, glanced at the neatly arranged baskets on the wooden floor and made a remark.

For some reason, this time of day always brought a strange sense of tension. Perhaps it was because whenever Hae-soo fumbled while preparing ingredients, she’d get scolded—told she was just a pretty face with no practical skills. But today, not only did she avoid any criticism, but she even received praise.

Eun-ji, who had been peeling sweet potato stems beside her, grinned.

“Hae-soo, you’re practically a country girl now. Well, it’s been a month, so I guess you’d be used to it by now.”

A month.

Hae-soo glanced around the yard, where sunlight poured in without missing a single spot. At the front gate, gardenias were in full bloom. It was summer.

When she had left the hospital, the weather had been warm but still bearable. Now, the heat was so intense that just standing still made sweat trickle down her back.

Every time a relatively cool breeze blew, the wind chime hanging from the eaves let out a clear, delicate sound.

Life in the fishing village was both quiet and lively.

For the past month, Hae-soo had been living here, though it wasn’t quite a recovery—it was more like an impromptu retreat. She ate the meals that Eun-ji and her grandmother prepared, and in return, she helped with the cleaning. Since there wasn’t much to do, she had plenty of time on her hands.

At first, she had felt lost and exhausted, sitting still like a statue. But doing nothing only made her thoughts multiply, weighing her down. Noticing this, Eun-ji suggested she help with small chores if she felt up to it.

Peeling garlic, shelling beans, trimming sweet potato stems—small, repetitive tasks.

At first, she struggled, her hands unfamiliar with the work. But over time, she grew accustomed to it. Keeping her hands busy helped clear her mind, even if just a little. Before she knew it, she had become surprisingly skilled at the work, a reliable extra pair of hands in the household.

Grandmother cut up a watermelon with red flesh and black seeds and brought it over as a reward for their hard work. As soon as Hae-soo bit into a pointed edge, Deokgu, who had been lying down on his stomach just a moment ago, got up and trotted over.

Eunji cut off the watermelon rind, carefully removed the black and yellow seeds with a knife, and handed the piece to Deokgu. The pink tongue tentatively licked at the fruit before the Jindo dog quickly grabbed it with his front paws, set it down in the yard, and started to enjoy it properly.

“They said a typhoon is coming this afternoon,” Eunji said, swinging her legs back and forth like she was paddling in water.

Indeed, even though the midday sun was still high in the sky, the atmosphere felt oddly dim. The gathering dark clouds already seemed ominous.

“We should take Deokgu for a walk quickly.”

“Yeah.”

At the word “walk,” Deokgu, who had been busy licking his watermelon, perked up. His curled tail wagged back and forth faster than ever, as if urging them to hurry up. Eunji smiled in exasperation before heading inside to change her clothes. Hae-soo, still in the outfit she’d worn for her trip from the bus terminal, simply stood in the yard.

“Want to hold the leash?”

Eunji handed over the leash she had clipped onto Deokgu’s collar. Hae-soo took it, while Eunji grabbed a large umbrella in her now-empty hands. At this point, taking Deokgu for a walk had long since become a natural part of their daily routine.

They stepped out through the gate and followed Deokgu as he strode forward with confidence, walking along the unpaved path. As expected in a small village where everyone lived close together, most people knew each other. So whenever they took Deokgu out for a walk, people always greeted Eunji along the way.

“Oh, Eunji? Going for a walk?”

“Yes, hello!”

A supermarket owner, who had been tending to the display outside her shop, noticed Eunji and acknowledged her. Thanks to her, the two of them walked away from the shop with orange-colored ice creams in hand.

“Ugh, another call.”

Eunji frowned in irritation after biting off the edge of her ice cream bar. Hae-soo glanced over and saw a phone in her hand.

“Your ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. When we were dating, he used to say that ‘giving up is only for counting cabbages.’ Guess he really meant it. He’s so damn persistent.”

Eunji shook her head and dismissed the call with a swipe. As she muttered about blocking his number later, Hae-soo commented,

“He must really like you.”

“Hm?”

“Considering how badly he wants you back.”

It wasn’t just a matter of a day or two—he had been doing this for a whole month now. At this point, it was almost like a twisted form of devotion.

“So what? It’s too late. That ship has sailed.”

Eunji firmly declared that she would never be foolish enough to give another chance to someone who had cheated on her. She said people often cried their hearts out, got back together, and then ended up breaking up for the same reason all over again.

Hae-soo, who had never properly experienced a romantic relationship, simply chewed on her tangerine-flavored ice cream, thinking, I guess that makes sense.

“But Hae-soo, what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

Eunji casually asked as they walked down a sloping path. In the entire month they had spent together, this was the first time Eunji had asked a personal question.

Hae-soo swallowed the last bit of icy sweetness in her mouth and shook her head.

“No.”

“Then, is there someone you like?”

Someone I like…

Before she could pinpoint a person, she questioned the very nature of the emotion itself. What did it mean to like someone?

Somewhere along the way, in a life tainted by pain, even the thought of having such feelings had come to seem like a luxury. Yet, there were indeed three people tangled up in her life due to something resembling that very emotion.

Hae-soo followed Deokgu’s lead and gazed straight ahead. The wide-open sea surged forward with sharp waves, then receded again in endless repetition.

Even after a month, the weight pressing on her heart had not lifted. Within that heaviness, there was also confusion.

Seo Hae-seung had visited once, shortly after she had been admitted to the hospital, but they hadn’t met again since. The administrative officer must have handled things accordingly. Yet, despite that, two others remained.

Seo Mu-won or Lee Hobum.

She had expected that one of the two would eventually appear before her, yet strangely enough, both had remained silent.

There was only one reason she couldn’t find peace even in their absence.

She hadn’t untangled the mess—she had only run away from it.

She had left behind a comma, not a period.

That was why, even if they didn’t show up, she couldn’t feel at ease.

“Huh?”

Something tapped against the top of her head.

“It’s raining.”

They had already walked quite far from home.

Realizing they should turn back, they quickly changed direction. Eunji opened the umbrella she had brought, but from the very first drops, the rain was coming down in ominously thick streaks. The wind howled, making the umbrella wobble unsteadily. Rain poured down diagonally, soaking them both in no time.

Deokgu, seemingly thrilled by the change in weather, bounced around excitedly, darting in and out of the path. That only made things harder for them. In the end, Eunji had to pick Deokgu up in her arms before they finally managed to get back home.

By the time they stepped inside, they looked like a pair of drowned rats.

“You go first, Hae-soo,” Eunji said, playfully patting Deokgu’s backside.

Since the house only had one small bathroom, it wasn’t possible for both of them to wash up at the same time. Hae-soo handed Eunji a dry towel before stepping into the bathroom.

In the mirror, a pale face reflected back at her.

Her complexion had improved over the past month, proof of the time that had passed. The wound over her left eye had almost completely healed, and the bandages around her neck had been removed long ago. Even the injury lower down, which had made it uncomfortable to sit, had significantly improved.

She poured warm water over her body, and from the small window connecting the bathroom to the outside, a flash of lightning struck.

Not long after, the sound of heavy rain poured down in an unrelenting rush.

It looked like they would be stuck indoors for the rest of the day.

Wanting to be quick for Eunji’s sake, Hae-soo hurried through her shower and stepped out.

“Eunji, I’m done.”

She stepped outside to where the yard was visible, but unexpectedly, Eunji was not there.

“Eunji?”

Was she in the room? Haesoo lowered the towel she had been using to dry off the remaining moisture and headed toward the inner room. Eunji’s voice could be faintly heard—was she on the phone with someone? Just as she grabbed the doorknob to let her know the bathroom was free...

“Haesoo? Yes, I think he’s doing a bit better now.”

That single sentence, piercing through the sound of rain, struck her eardrums. The hand gripping the doorknob froze in place.

“His condition and injuries too... Yes. I don’t know when he’ll be heading back to Seoul. Yes. I’ll keep you updated. You’ll be sending the promised money at the end of the month, right?”

It was undoubtedly Eunji’s voice—the voice she had heard every single day for the past month. Yet the words coming out of her mouth felt unfamiliar, as if they belonged to someone else.

What was she saying? Seoul? Keeping them updated? Promised money? Haesoo, suddenly wide awake, swung the door open.

Eunji, standing in front of the lacquered wardrobe, startled, her eyes widening in shock at her abrupt entrance.

“H-Haesoo.”

Ignoring her flustered reaction, Hae-soo strode forward and snatched the phone from her hand, pressing it to her ear. On the other end, silence. As if the person had already grasped the situation from Eunji’s stammering.

But even without hearing a voice, Haesoo knew.

A man of few words, whose very silence was as familiar as speech itself.

“……”

Haesoo’s face contorted.

It had been peaceful.

Quiet, serene days.

She had gradually regained a sense of stability amidst the unfamiliar yet comforting rural landscape. Almost like the Haesoo from before everything had crumbled—before her family, her mother and father, and everything surrounding them had been shattered. her mind had finally begun to settle, as if the storm within her had found a moment of stillness.

But now, the sound of Seo Mu-won’s breathing on the other end of the line cracked that fragile peace.

Flashes of memory raced across her mind’s eye—Seo Mu-won showing up at her mother’s funeral, despite knowing full well what he had done to their family. The way he had spoken of them afterward with such calculated ease. The chill that had run down Haesoo’s spine when she realized that the man who had destroyed her life had been manipulating everything all along.

So this was why.

This was why no one had forcibly stopped her when she fled the hospital. Because it hadn’t mattered. No matter where she ran, they had all the time in the world to catch up.

“...Haesoo.”

Haesoo let the phone slip from her fingers. Her shaken gaze met Eunji’s.

“So this was it?”

“Haesoo—”

“This is why you took care of me?”

Yes, deep down, she had questioned it.

Their relationship had been nothing more than a passing acquaintance, barely even that. And yet, Eunji had let her stay in her home for a whole month, looking after her in every possible way. It hadn’t made sense.

But she had stayed.

Because he had nowhere else to go.

And so, she had convinced herself that her kindness was sincere. That it was simply something to be grateful for.

But now, to find out that she had been in contact with Seo Mu-won all along?

That all of this had been orchestrated by him?

Since when?

No—where did it start?

Just how deeply had Seo Mu-won entangled himself in Haesoo’s life?

It wasn’t enough that he had torn her family apart, reduced her life to ruins—was he now trying to trap her completely within a world of his own making?

Just thinking about it made Haesoo feel like she was suffocating. No matter where she turned, it felt like Seo Mu-won’s shadow loomed over her. Like his eyes were watching from every corner, controlling every step she took.

“No! Haesoo, it wasn’t like that from the start—”

Eunji took a step forward, her face desperate, full of things left unsaid. Haesoo recoiled, shaking her head.

“He suddenly contacted me... He asked me to look after you. So I—”

“So you took the money?”

“……”

“You looked after me in exchange for money?”

The man who had shattered her family was now methodically dismantling even the smallest connections she had left. Or perhaps this connection had never even been real in the first place. It had merely been another thread in Seo Mu-won’s carefully woven web.

This was nothing more than a tragic puppet show, with Haesoo strung up on the stage as its unwilling performer.

Haesoo turned on her heel.

Her feet pounded over the threshold, across the wooden porch, past the front gate. It all happened in an instant.

It was a midday storm.

Rain pounded down in thick sheets, blindingly heavy. It felt like the sky itself was pelting him with stones. Her foot caught on a rock, and suddenly, she was falling. Tumbling across the wet ground, her body twisted as pain flared in her side—the ribs that had only just begun to heal ached faintly. Her lungs seized up, as though he were gasping through an oxygen mask.

Coughing violently, Haesoo clutched her chest and forced herself to lift her gaze.

Through the curtain of rain, she saw it.

Beyond the raging storm, the ocean churned, waves crashing fiercely onto the shore, retreating, and crashing again. The water, angry and relentless, seemed to beckon her forward.

And yet, to Haesoo, it didn’t look threatening at all.

It looked gentle. Tranquil, even—like the shoreline of some peaceful retreat.

Because no matter how far Seo Mu-won’s reach extended, surely... he couldn’t follow her there.

If I submerge myself completely in that water, even Seomu-won’s ghost-like eyes will never be able to find me.

Was my thought process broken? My actions moved in an extreme and linear direction. Hae-soo struggled to lift her scraped and battered limbs from the uneven ground and stumbled forward. As the world was washed in gray, her frail body swayed like a fragile blade of grass caught in a storm.

Half in a daze, she trudged on until the cold waves lapped at her bare feet. The seawater, which barely grazed her ankles, soon swallowed her calves and climbed up to her thighs.

Hurry. Faster.

The man who had forcibly claimed her sky, watching her every move with those enormous eyes, might be witnessing this scene too. Seomu-won’s gaze and obsession felt so relentless, so ghostly, that it seemed impossible to escape. Hae-soo fought with all her might to immerse herself completely in this abyss.

“Ah!”

A sharp scream burst out.

A sudden arm reached out and yanked her back with a force that nearly snapped her waist. The water that had risen to her hips receded quickly, leaving her in the damp, squelching sand. As she staggered, struggling to stand, the surging waves crashed in front of her.

Like someone possessed, Hae-soo pushed and struggled against the one holding her back, crawling desperately toward the sea. But the grip restraining her was just as stubborn. A firm hand grabbed her waist and turned her around. Her head hit the damp sand.

She was at the boundary of the shore.

Where the crashing foam shattered into quiet ripples, the fragile line between life and death.

“Are you insane?!”

The force pressing her wrist into the sand was urgent. So was the hot breath pouring onto her face. It was warm, but it carried desperation.

Under the ominously dark sky, he, too, was just as pitch-black. Hae-soo blinked, and the water pooling in her eyes streamed down her cheeks, clearing her blurred vision.

Lee Ho-beom looked as if he had just faced a life-or-death crisis.

“Are you so desperate to die?”

She wasn’t trying to die.

She just wanted to hide.

The sheer terror of knowing that no matter how much she struggled, she could never escape Seomu-won’s grasp was enough to stain her heart deep blue with fear. So she wanted to run. And only a beat later did she realize that running meant death.

Then, had she truly been trying to die?

Was that why Lee Ho-beom looked so horrified?

“I told you to live smart.”

“……”

“I told you to use everything you can to survive. So why the hell—why the hell are you doing this bullshit instead?”

There’s nothing left.

What do I even have left?

Hae-soo muttered in a voice half-swallowed by sobs, and Lee Ho-beom tightened his grip on her wrist, making her wince.

“Have you ever tried using me?”

“……”

“All you ever did was run from me. Did you ever even think about relying on me?”

His cold voice mimicked a threat, but the truth was different.

Beneath it, raw emotions simmered, and a harsh confession was buried within.

Hae-soo inhaled sharply, as if finally unblocking a choked airway, just as Lee Ho-beom lowered his face toward hers.

“Should I kill him?”

His words, carried by the pouring rain, were chilling.

It was a question without a subject.

Yet Hae-soo understood instantly.

Because they were both trapped in the same vicious cycle.

She gazed into the piercing gleam of Ho-beom’s eyes. Maybe it was nothing but bravado and reckless posturing. But something in her, a quiet voice, dared to ask,

“…How?”

“There are dozens of ways to slit his throat. I could run him over with a car and stage it as an accident, stab him in broad daylight, or poison him with something untraceable.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one whose mind had shattered.

Lee Ho-beom, too, was steeped in madness, his words thick with murder.

Strangely, to Hae-soo, it felt as if he had sharpened this intent over a long time, as though it had been his plan all along.

There was only one reason his heart had turned so ruthless.

Because he was utterly, blindly devoted to her.

That undeniable fact imprinted itself in her mind, as if someone had forcibly engraved it there.

Lee Ho-beom was not toying with her.

No, the seething malice in his eyes was proof—proof that he had long resolved to sever the throat of the one who had ensnared them both.

Ironically, it was only now, when they had both been pushed to the absolute limit, that she could finally see it.

Hae-soo closed her eyes. Raindrops landed on her eyelids, cold and unyielding.

She was still being drenched, but it wasn’t as harsh as before.

A much larger figure shielded her from the downpour.

Lee Ho-beom was always shadowed in darkness.

But perhaps that darkness could sometimes conceal her from the sky.

A shield, a place to hide.

“If it weren’t for you… maybe everything would have been fine.”

Her breath slipped out, cold and faint.

With trembling hands, Hae-soo clutched the hem of Ho-beom’s shirt.

“If you hadn’t done that in front of Hae-seung…”

She could no longer tell where it had all begun.

Had it been the moment everything was exposed in that tiny room?

“That day… if only you hadn’t called Seomu-won to the hotel.”

Or was it the discovery in the suite?

“No… from the very beginning, if only I had never gotten involved with you…”

Would I have been a little more at ease?

Could I have passed through life without knowing this kind of pain?

Even though she knew these were useless thoughts—what was done was done—Hae-soo couldn’t stop speaking.

Lee Ho-beom wiped the wetness from Hae-soo’s cheek with his hand.

“Do you regret it?”

“……”

“Even if you do, it doesn’t matter. I have no intention of letting you go now.”

He wrapped an arm around the back of her neck.

“No—I can’t let you go. I turned my back on people who were like family just to hold onto you…”

“……”

“So now, damn it… you’re the only thing I have left to hold on to.”

As if to prove his words—that she was his last lifeline—his lips crashed onto hers in a desperate kiss.

Hae-soo hesitated before wrapping her arms around his neck. Their breaths tangled clumsily, like it was their first time kissing. Amid the raging storm, their lips met as though they were each other’s only source of air—urgent, fevered.

Lee Ho-beom finally let go of the tongue he had been hungrily sucking on and lifted Hae-soo into his arms. Even as the seawater lapped against them, soaking her limbs and making her body feel heavy, his actions were effortless, as if he was carrying something precious.

Over his broad shoulders, Hae-soo saw the sight before her.

The dark, raging sea that had nearly swallowed her whole was growing more distant.

The rain still poured down with enough force to sweep them away at any moment.

Though it was daytime, the world remained eerily dark.