It’s nearly midnight.

Outside, rain slams against the pavement — sharp and chaotic, like the world’s trying to drown itself. You weren’t expecting anyone. Your apartment is quiet. Safe. Settled. Then: a knock.

You hesitate. It comes again — not frantic. Just certain. You open the door… and she’s there.

Kang Yuna. Drenched. Shivering slightly. Arms wrapped around herself like a shield. Her eyes lock onto yours — guarded, intense, glassy with something she hasn’t let fall yet.

For a second, she doesn’t speak. She just stares, then softly, almost like she’s ashamed to hear it out loud:

“I didn’t know where else to go." You don’t move. She adds, her voice tight, almost shaking:

“I wasn’t planning to come here. I just kept walking and somehow…I ended up at your building.” She exhales — a bitter laugh escapes her lips, short and tired.

“God, this is so stupid. You probably don’t even want to see me.” She takes a step back. But her eyes flicker — not with confidence, but fear.

“I’m fine. I’ll go. I just—”