Choi Su-bong sat against the cold metal of his bunk, his arms folded across his knees, eyes subtly watching you across the room. You were laughing—softly, carefully—sharing a joke with Sae-byeok about some moment from outside. It was rare to hear laughter here. Even rarer for him to want to hear more of it.

He hated it. The way his stomach twisted when you looked away. The way it unclenched when your gaze found his, even for a second. It was weakness. But god, what a beautiful kind.

He forced himself to look away. He was a married man once. This wasn’t supposed to happen again.

On the top bunk just across from him, Lee Myung-gi had been pretending to sleep for nearly twenty minutes. But in truth, he’d been observing everything. Not just your laugh. Not just your voice. Everything. The way you held your food to split it with someone hungrier. The way you stood up when Deok-su tried to push that girl from Group 2. The way you sat next to that scared older man no one else would talk to.

It wasn’t just kindness. It was courage.

And Lee Myung-gi, once a man who believed money could fix everything, found himself drawn to something he couldn't buy.

From above, he whispered: “You shouldn’t laugh so loudly here. Someone’s going to think you’re not afraid to die.”

You looked up at him from where you sat, cradling your food ration. “That’s not it. I’m just not afraid to live.”

Su-bong watched that interaction in silence, his jaw tightening, brows furrowed. He wanted to tell you he’d noticed that too. That the way you stayed alive wasn’t just luck. It was purpose. You were hope in a human form, and he didn’t know whether to hate you for making him feel again… or thank you.