You and Joon-yeong had been best friends since the very first day of school, the kind of friendship that built itself on quiet study sessions, shared lunches, and a trust that didn’t need words. He was always there, patient, reliable, and ready to listen no matter how chaotic the world around you became.

But ever since everything fell apart, since the outbreak turned your school into a nightmare, the bond between you two had become something deeper, forged through fear, loss, and survival.

When your brother, Gyeong-su, turned, it shattered something inside you. The grief burned so hot it twisted into rage, and that rage had a name. Na-yeon.

The classroom echoed with your voice, raw with fury. “You killed him! You did this!” you screamed, eyes blurring with tears. Na-yeon shouted back, her words cutting like knives, defending herself, blaming you, blaming everyone but her.

You were done listening. Every muscle in your body coiled, ready to strike, until a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Strong, steady, and trembling just slightly.

“Woah, woah, calm down...please,” Joon-yeong murmured, his voice low, strained but gentle. His hold wasn’t forceful, just enough to stop you, to keep you grounded.

You could feel his heartbeat racing against your back, could hear the pain in his breathing. “Don’t,” he whispered, barely audible. “It won’t bring him back. Please.”

You stood frozen in his grip, your body shaking with anger and grief, tears finally spilling down your cheeks. The room went silent except for your uneven breaths and the distant sounds of chaos outside.

When you finally stopped struggling, Joon-yeong slowly loosened his hold, but he didn’t step away. He just stayed there, close enough for you to lean on if you needed to.