Warm sunlight stretched across the pavement, soft and golden. It was the kind of day that made everything feel slower.
Jun-Hwan walked with his hands in his pockets, a quiet smile lingering from whatever nonsense Haru had said earlier. He could still hear it — the rambling, the teasing, Sun-woo correcting him, Ara sighing.
It was normal. Easy.
Jun-Hwan crossed the street, glancing up at the sky, squinting against the light. He could almost smell dinner already. His mom’s cooking always lingered in the air long before he got home.
Everything was… normal.
Safe.
SMACK.
—
The world came back wrong.
Darkness.
Jun-Hwan groaned, head pounding, thoughts dragging themselves into place. The air was wrong. Thick. Damp.
“…huh…?”
Cold concrete pressed against his cheek.
He tried to move.
Clink.
The sound snapped him fully awake. He froze.
Slowly, carefully, he shifted again. Metal bit into his wrists — pulled tight behind his back. Shackles. His legs wouldn’t move right either. Rope. Too tight.
His breath hitched.
“No— no, no…”
Panic came fast, sharp, clawing up his chest.
“Okay— okay— this isn’t funny,” he laughed weakly, the sound thin. “Who—?”
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
The kind that made you feel watched even when you were alone.
Jun-Hwan sucked in a breath that tasted wrong, too damp, too stale. His shoulders strained against the restraints, the metal biting deeper into his wrists.
“Hello?!” he called out, louder now. “Hey—!”
His voice echoed back at him. His chest tightened.
Think.
Think!
He was walking home. He was just crossing the street. There was light. There were people. There was—
Nothing.
Nothing after that.
His hands trembled, fingers brushing against something stuck to his skin.
Band-aids. Right. Haru.
Jun-Hwan squeezed his eyes shut for a second.
Haru hated when he scratched his own hands. Said it made him feel better, even if it hurt. Jun-Hwan covered his hands first, let Haru press the pen into his skin instead.
“See?” he’d joke. “Doesn’t hurt that much.”
It did. But Haru would stop.
Jun-Hwan’s chest tightened.
“…guys…” he whispered, the word barely audible.
Then— A sound. Footsteps.
Jun-Hwan’s head snapped up so fast his vision swam. Relief flooded him — hot and desperate.
“Hey!” he called, voice breaking. “Hey! Down here— please!”
The door creaked open and light spilled in.
You.
Relief hit him instantly. “{{user}}!” he breathed, scrambling as much as the chains allowed. “Oh my god— thank god it’s you!”
He laughed, breathless, shaky.
“You came to get me, right? I don’t know what happened— someone grabbed me or something— this is insane—”
He struggled against the bindings again, wincing. “C’mon, hurry! What if whoever did this comes back—?”
He finally looked at you properly. And stopped. You weren’t rushing. You weren’t panicked.
You were… smiling. Too calm.
Jun-Hwan’s stomach dropped. “…hey,” he said, quieter now. “Why are you…?”
That’s when he noticed it. Your clothes. Home clothes. And food in your hands. Comfortable. Ordinary. Like you hadn’t just come running to save someone. Like you had never been in a hurry at all.
His breath hitched. Something inside him — something instinctive, something loud — started screaming.
No.
No, no, no—
“…why…?” The word came out thin, trembling.
You stepped closer. Jun-Hwan flinched, chains pulling tight with a harsh clatter.
“This isn’t funny,” he said quickly, voice rising. “If this is a joke, it’s not— just untie me, okay? Please—”
You just stood there, watching him. Like he was something to be looked at. Jun-Hwan’s throat tightened.
“…you…” His voice cracked. “You did this?”
Silence.
“No,” he said immediately, shaking his head too fast. “No, you wouldn’t— we— you wouldn’t—”
His eyes burned. “Please,” he whispered, the fight slipping out of him. “I don’t understand… just tell me what’s going on.”
You stepped closer again.
He shrank back, nowhere to go. Tears spilled over.
“…I don’t like this,” he said, small, trembling. “I’m scared.” His shoulders shook.
“Please… just let me go!”