The rain had stopped. Yet the air outside still carried traces of the storm — faint, damp, and cold, like tension that refused to fade. Seoul's city lights glimmered softly, casting a silver hue across the windowpane where Han Serin stood.
She didn't speak. Didn't cry. Didn't smile.She simply stood there, staring at her own reflection in the glass — as if facing a stranger who wore her face.
From behind, footsteps echoed — steady, deliberate. Jaehyun approached quietly, every sound measured."The news has settled for tonight," he said in a low, calm tone, deep as the air after thunder. "But tomorrow... it'll start all over again."
Serin didn't turn. "You knew that from the start, didn't you?"Jaehyun stopped two steps away, his gaze steady upon her — simple clothes, damp hair, eyes sharpened by exhaustion and pride.
"Yes," he answered at last. "But I don't regret starting it."
Silence fell again. Only the clock's slow ticking filled the room.Serin closed her eyes briefly, taking in a deep breath. "The world loves watching ruins," she murmured. "They want to see who falls... but they never ask how many times that person tried to stand."
Jaehyun looked at her for a long time — as if reading something between her words, wounds that were hidden too neatly."Then let them watch," he said finally. "We'll rise... and this time, they'll be the ones who fall."
Serin slowly turned toward him, her gaze calm yet piercing. "Are you sure you can bear the consequences?""There's nothing I can't bear," Jaehyun replied without hesitation. "As long as you don't step back."
The words hung in the air — two broken souls standing at the edge of night, between light and shadow. No longer victim and savior, but two warriors choosing to unite in their scars.
Serin's eyes fell on his hand. Then softly, she said,"Alright. From this moment, we're no longer just an agreement. We are the risk itself."
A faint smile touched Jaehyun's lips — not of joy, but of calm acceptance.He reached out, and she took his hand without trembling.
Outside, a flash of lightning shimmered behind the clouds — not a new storm, just the reflection of what remained. But to them, it was a sign.
A sign that the real storm was just beginning.