Tomi's POV
The morning after that late shift, I didn't get up when my alarm went off. It buzzed at 6:45, the familiar trill that usually pulled me out of whatever shallow sleep I'd managed. Today, I just lay there, staring at the pale rectangle of light spilling through the curtains. My phone kept vibrating on the desk, the sound rattling against the wood, but I couldn't make my arm move. My shift at the café started at 8:00. My first class was at 10:30. The math didn't work unless I left the dorm within the next fifteen minutes. I didn't move. My chest felt heavy in that strange, layered way part physical exhaustion, part something else I didn't have the energy to name. All the caffeine I'd been using to stay upright had finally stopped working. My limbs felt like they belonged to someone else. My head ached from that constant, low-level tension that had been my background noise for weeks. And then there was the other weight. The one shaped like Min-Jae's name. I hadn't heard anything real since those first vague reports after the accident. "Recovering," "in good care," "no further comment." They were all just words. Empty, flat, carefully arranged to give nothing away. I sat up eventually, but only to reach for my phone. The café owner's number hovered on the screen for a long time before I hit call. "Ah, Tomi-ssi?" His voice was alert, businesslike. "I… I'm sorry, I can't come in today. I—" I hesitated, searching for a reason that wouldn't make me sound unreliable. "I'm sick." A short silence, then a sigh. "Alright. Rest well." The call ended, but the guilt didn't. I set the phone down, then lay back and stared at the ceiling, my mind already jumping to the email from Student Affairs last week. The warning about my scholarship review. The attendance threshold. My grades. My life here was a precarious tower, and I'd just yanked another block out of it. By the time Yuri stirred on the other side of the room, I'd half convinced myself to go to class anyway. I was pulling on a sweater when I saw my laptop's notification light blinking. I opened it without thinking.
[2 New Emails]
One from the scholarship committee. One from my Cultural heritage professor. The committee's email was polite but firm:
We look forward to your review meeting next week. Please be advised that recent patterns in attendance and coursework submission will be discussed in detail.
The words might as well have been in bold. My throat went dry. The professor's email was shorter, but somehow worse:
Tomi, I've noticed you've been distracted in class. Please come prepared next week or I'll have to mark you down for participation.
I closed the laptop harder than necessary and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes. Everything felt like it was tightening — my schedule, my finances, my chances. The knock at the door startled me. Sasha poked her head in, holding a take-out cup. "You missed breakfast," she said, stepping in and handing it to me. "Coffee. Black. You look like you need it." I took it without answering. She studied me for a second. "Is this still about…?" I didn't respond, but my silence was enough. "Listen, you can't keep—" Her voice cut off because my phone vibrated again. I glanced at the screen. A DM request from an account I didn't recognize. No profile picture. It was just a blank gray circle. Normally, I would've ignored it. But the first line was visible in the preview: Tomi, this is Tae-ho. Don't ask how I got your contact. I froze. Sasha noticed instantly. "What is it?" I didn't answer. My thumb tapped the message open.
I wanted you to hear it from me before it's everywhere. Min-Jae is stable. Surgery went well. He's still unconscious, but it's not critical anymore. Don't believe the headlines.
The words blurred for a second. I read them again, slower this time, my heart thudding in my ears. Stable. Not critical. Still unconscious. Relief hit first, so sharp it almost hurt. It was like I'd been holding my breath for weeks without realizing it. But then the aftershock came. The realization that someone in his inner circle had thought to reach out to me. That I wasn't just another person refreshing news sites for scraps. I swallowed hard, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. Thank you. How— I stopped typing. Deleted it. Typed again. Thank you. Please let me know if anything changes. I sent it before I could second-guess myself. When I looked up, Sasha was still watching me. "Well?" she asked. I exhaled, the sound shaky. "He's okay. I mean… not okay, but not—" My voice cracked. "He's alive." For the first time in weeks, I felt something loosen in my chest. Not enough to breathe freely yet — but enough to believe I could.
Tae-ho's POV The phone call came at exactly 11:48 p.m. I knew the time because my wife, Ji-eun, had been teasing me about checking the clock every two minutes instead of helping her fold laundry. We were halfway through a drama episode, both in our pajamas, the smell of chamomile tea floating from the kitchen, when my phone buzzed with the kind of urgency you don't ignore. I didn't recognize the number at first. My thumb hesitated. But something, maybe the slight tremor in my gut told me to pick it up. "Hello?" I said, already standing from the couch. "Is this Park Tae-ho?" The voice on the other end was sharp, almost breathless. "Yes—" "It's about Seo Min-Jae. He's been in an accident. It seems fatal, very. They've taken him to Seoul General. You should come now." The rest of her words blurred. My brain shut down every other function except hearing his name and "accident." I heard my wife say something in the background, but my pulse was in my ears, drowning her out. I hung up without saying goodbye, grabbed my coat, my keys, and my wallet. "Tae-ho, what is it?" Ji-eun was already on her feet, worry tightening her face. "It's Min-Jae. Car accident. I have to go." "I'll come with you—" "No," I cut in, sharper than I meant to. "Stay here. Please. I'll call you." She didn't argue, but the look in her eyes as I rushed out, it was the kind of look you didn't forget. Min-Jae meant a lot to us. He and Ji-eun were friends from high school and I had met him through her also. The friendship we've developed over the years wasn't one to joke with. The streets were almost empty, the city's neon signs looking too bright, too oblivious to what had just cracked open in my chest. I drove like someone was chasing me, weaving through late-night taxis and blinking red lights. By the time I got to the hospital, the fluorescent glare of the emergency wing made everything feel cold, mechanical. I spotted Min-Jae's manager, Manager Kim, leaning against the wall with his phone pressed to his ear, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to erase what had happened. He looked like he was tired of the multiple calls he had obviously been answering. He looked like he was angry at me too. After dropping the call, he glared at me. "how could you leave him to drive on his own"??. "Where is he?" I interrupted. I had no time for him to guilt strip me now. "They're in surgery now." That was all I needed. My legs moved before my mind caught up, but a nurse blocked me halfway down the corridor. "Sir, you can't go in there." I nodded, but I didn't move away. I stood outside the double doors like a guard dog, my eyes fixed on the red Surgery in Progress sign. The hours stretched like years. Shortly after, Min-Jae's parents, sister and little cousin, Eun-byul arrived, their entrance like a cold front rolling in, apart from the cousin anyways, she was the closest family member Min-Jae had. Even his sister looked like she was going to eat me raw. His father's voice was sharp, his mother's was all icy composure. "Where were you?" his father demanded. "You're supposed to keep him safe!" "Do you think I wanted this to happen?" I shot back before I could stop myself. "He's an adult, he—" "You're his assistant, his right hand. You should have been there!" Manager Kim tried to step between us, muttering something about keeping our voices down, but the damage was done. The guilt was already digging its claws into me, and their accusations only pushed it deeper. His mother didn't say much. She just gave me a look that said more than any words, a look that told me she had already decided this was partly my fault. And his sister, she looked like she didn't even have a care in the world . Eun-byul just sat down at a corner, with stifled tears. When the surgeon finally came out, the words "successful surgery" were the only ones I clung to. "He'll need weeks of recovery. He's unconscious now, but stable. You can see him in a few hours." I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, my shoulders sagging for the first time all night. My routine for days was the same then. I went home to get changed, eat, bring substitute clothes for Min-Jae and all. I also tried to keep him company by reading him books too. Days passed and soon, it was already a week after the accident, with Min-Jae still recovering and still unconscious. I decided to scroll through my phone as it had been a long time since I checked the Internet. I decided to search up Min-Jae to see how much news was up concerning the accident. That was when I saw it, a photo of Min-Jae in disguise, sitting across from her. Tomi. I'd already suspected there was something about her. Something that made him… softer, different. I'd caught him smiling at his phone in a way I hadn't seen in years, asking questions that had nothing to do with work. And now, sitting outside his hospital room with the steady beep of the monitors echoing through the door, I thought, maybe she deserved to know he was alive. Maybe she was the one person whose voice he'd want to hear when he woke up. I decided to send her a message on Wechat. She must have felt relieved and happy because she replied really quick. I was going to reply her message when the elevator doors opened, and a figure stepped out. She was beautiful in a perfectly polished, magazine-cover way — silk blouse, designer heels, hair that had been styled even for a hospital visit. "Oh my God, Tae-ho," she said, her voice dripping with concern. "I came as soon as I heard." It took me a second to place her face. But when I did, the puzzle clicked into place. I had seen her photo somewhere, Ji-eun had told me about her, Min-Jae's first love. Han-ji . The goddess from years ago. From high school , Min-Jae had been crazy about her then. They dated for years before he caught her cheating on him with his male best friend. She then broke up with him the next day, after saying harsh words to him. The heartbreak had b taken a toll on Min-Jae then. She then went to the United States and never looked back. And just as she strode towards me, I knew things were about to get complicated.