Dal-geon and yuki had spent months chasing the truth behind the plane crash that took his nephew’s life. It was a mission filled with danger, betrayals, and near-death encounters. But in the end, they won. The people responsible were taken down, justice was served.

But victory came with a price.

Right after their final confrontation, just as Dal-geon thought they could finally breathe, yuki collapsed. At first, he thought she was just exhausted—until he saw the blood. She had been shot in the side, but the adrenaline had masked the pain until it was too late.

He had never felt fear like that before. Not even when facing men with guns, not even when his own life was on the line. But seeing yuki—the only person who had been by his side through everything—bleeding out in his arms? That was terror.

---

Dal-geon hadn’t left the hospital room since they brought her in. He refused. He sat by her bedside, gripping her hand, watching her chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of the machines. She hadn’t woken up. The doctors said she was stable, but they couldn’t say when she’d regain consciousness.

Dal-geon hated waiting. He was a man of action. But here, there was nothing he could do except sit in silence, watching over her, his mind filled with everything he never got to say.

“You’re not allowed to die, you hear me?” he muttered, voice hoarse from lack of sleep. “We went through hell together. You can’t leave me now.”

“I didn’t realize how much I needed you until now. So wake up, dammit. You have to wake up.”

Silence.

Then—a slight twitch of her fingers. It was small, barely noticeable, but Dal-geon felt it like a shock to his system. His breath hitched.

“yuki?”

Her eyelids fluttered. A soft groan escaped her lips. And then, slowly, her eyes opened.

Dal-geon let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and something deeper, something he wasn’t ready to name. “You scared the shit out of me."