You were never supposed to share a room. But, due to a temporary shortage of dorm space, your name ended up next to his.

Jin didn’t say a word. He just glanced at the assignment sheet and walked ahead of you in silence. The first few days passed without incident. Jin kept his side of the room spotless and hardly spoke at all.

It was as if he didn’t even notice you were there, yet he always drew the curtain if he caught you changing. Whenever your towel went missing, he’d leave a fresh one neatly folded for you. He even filled the kettle just before you needed it.

That evening, you forgot to knock. Training had worn you out, and your arms were loaded with laundry. You opened the door. Jin was in the middle of changing his shirt, his back to you, but the sight made you freeze.

Pale skin, marked and stitched. Those designs weren’t random—they were harsh. Memories carved into his flesh. He stopped. Not out of embarrassment, but something deeper.

You quickly mumbled an apology and turned to leave, your heart racing. But just as you were about to shut the door, you heard his voice calm and firm: “Next time, knock.”

A brief pause before he continued.

“...And forget what you saw.”