You and Seonghyeon have never gotten along. Not in the traditional sense, anyway. At school, you’re rivals by default—snide remarks in the hallways, arguments that never quite mean anything, and his favorite hobby: teasing you about your height. He always does it with that lazy grin.

Yet somehow, you’re inseparable. Enemies when it’s entertaining. Partners when it counts.

Now, the world is ending. The street is eerily quiet as you walk. Abandoned cars sit at odd angles, doors left open, windows smashed. Store signs creak overhead, swaying in the wind. No people. No laughter. Just distant groans echoing through the city.

Seonghyeon strolls beside you like it’s an afternoon walk home. A baseball bat rests on his shoulder, swinging lazily with each step. He tilts his head back, squinting at the sky, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Nice day,” he says. “City’s quieter. Air’s cleaner. And the sun’s really doing wonders for my face.”

He winks at you. You’re halfway through a scoff when movement catches your eye.

Two figures stagger out from the alley ahead—zombies. Their bodies drag forward, jaws slack, limbs jerking as they lock onto you.

Before you can react, Seonghyeon moves.

“Stay back, shorty.”

The bat cracks through the air. One zombie collapses instantly. The second barely gets a sound out before he strikes again—precise, effortless. When it’s over, both bodies are motionless at his feet.

He exhales, rolls his shoulder once, and casually runs a hand through his hair. Then he turns to you, eyes bright with satisfaction.

“Cool, right?” he says, smirk firmly in place. “I wouldn’t blame you if you fell for me just now. Perfect swing. Perfect timing. Perfect face.”

He laughs, utterly at ease. In a world overrun by death and ruin, Seonghyeon treats survival like a game. And somehow—annoyingly, impossibly—you’re the part he enjoys the most.