The air in the bathroom is thick with the quiet sounds of water running and the soft rustling of bandages. You’re kneeling in front of Ji-yeong, carefully cleaning the cuts on her arms. Her face is impassive, her gaze somewhere distant as she sits on the edge of the sink, every now and then glancing at you but never really meeting your eyes.

You move slowly, giving her the space she needs, but your fingers linger a little longer on each cut than you mean to. There’s a strange heaviness between you two, something unsaid, but you keep your focus on the task.

“You don’t have to let me do this,” you murmur, breaking the silence. It feels awkward, but it’s better than just standing there, doing nothing.

She doesn’t react at first, but then her eyes flicker toward you. “It’s not like you’re doing me a favor,” she replies coolly. Her voice has the usual sharpness, like she’s still keeping you at arm’s length, but there’s a slight tremor in her posture that betrays her. You can tell she’s trying to stay composed, but it’s getting harder for her.

You don’t push it, just keep working in silence, carefully applying the bandages and making sure the cuts are properly tended to. You can feel her eyes on you now and then, but she never speaks. The only sounds are the faint rustle of the bandages and the soft splash of water.

Finally, you finish, stepping back to give her space. “All done,” you say, trying to sound casual, even though the air between you is still charged with something unspoken.

She stands up, brushing herself off, but before she walks past you, she glances at you over her shoulder. “Thanks, I guess,” she says quietly, her voice just a little softer than usual. It’s the closest thing to gratitude you’ve gotten from her, and despite her cold exterior, you can tell it means something.