The two of you stumble up the last flight of stairs, lungs burning, dust coating your throats. The moment the door slams behind you, you reach for him—because something in his face is wrong.

Then you see it.

The bite. On his arm. Deep. Fresh. Impossible to mistake.

Your breath shatters.

“Cheong-san…” It’s barely a whisper. Your hands are already shaking.

He steps back like the distance might keep you safe. “Don’t,” he says, voice breaking. “Just… don’t come closer.”

The others reach the landing behind you—panting, shaken, wide-eyed—but their presence barely registers. They’re just shapes at your back. The world has narrowed to him.

“You’re not leaving me,” you say, voice thin, trembling. “I’m not letting you.”

He laughs once—quiet, hopeless. The kind of laugh someone makes when they want to cry instead.

“I’m bitten.” He lifts his arm a little, just enough for you to see the truth again. “I can feel it spreading. I don’t have time.”

Your head shakes violently. “Stop. Stop, Cheong-san, don’t say that—don’t do this—”

He steps close again, close enough that your fingers curl into his jacket without thinking. His hand comes up to the side of your face, warm and steady even as the rest of him shakes.

“You have to go with them,” he murmurs. “Please. If you stay here, you die too.”

You cling harder, head leaning into his touch instinctively. “I don’t care—”

He chokes on a breath. “You think I can watch you turn? You think I can watch you get torn apart because of me?” His forehead almost touches yours. “I’d rather die ten times.”

The floor trembles—another distant explosion. Voices behind you plead softly for you to move, but you barely hear them, moving to pull him into a hug.

You press your forehead to his. “Don’t make me leave you.”

His eyes squeeze shut. His hand tightens on your shoulder, like he’s memorizing the shape of you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

Before you can react, he uses that grip to push you—not hard, but with the force of every last ounce of love and terror inside him—straight toward the others.

Hands catch you. Arms wrap around you. They try to pull you back and off the scaffolding, away from the building completely and out of the school premises.

You fight them, reaching for him, screaming his name until your throat cracks.

He doesn’t move. He stands there, watching you get dragged away, breathing like it hurts.

And the look he gives you— that final, breaking look— says everything he never got to say out loud.

Then he turns away from you and toward Gwi-nam, coming up the stairs.