[Kei]
The moment Kei stepped out of Mrs. Yoon's office, the hallway felt different.
Or maybe it was him.
Maybe everything had always been like this, and he had simply never noticed.
People looked away when he walked past.
A pair of trainees standing near the elevators suddenly became very interested in their phones.
Two staff members lowered their voices.
The entire building felt suffocating.
Kei shoved his hands into his pockets and headed toward the elevator.
His mind was still stuck inside Mrs. Yoon's office.
The articles.
The comments.
No-Ah's name.
No-Ah's university.
No-Ah's workplace.
Every detail laid out for strangers to pick apart.
His jaw tightened.
The elevator doors opened.
He stepped inside.
The moment the doors closed, he pulled out his phone.
His thumb hovered over No-Ah's contact.
For several seconds, he simply stared at it.
Then he pressed call.
The ringing echoed through the quiet elevator.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
No answer.
Kei frowned.
Maybe she was in class.
Maybe her phone was silent.
Maybe—
The call ended.
He immediately tried again.
Nothing.
A strange uneasiness settled in his chest.
The elevator reached the ground floor.
The doors opened.
Kei stepped out while the phone continued ringing.
Still nothing.
Eventually the call disconnected.
He lowered the phone.
The uneasiness remained.
Growing.
Because No-Ah always answered eventually.
Even if she was busy.
Even if she couldn't talk.
She would usually send a message.
Something simple.
Something short.
Not silence.
Never complete silence.
His phone remained stubbornly empty.
No messages.
No replies.
Nothing.
"Kei."
He looked up.
His manager was walking toward him.
Looking stressed.
More stressed than usual.
Which was saying something.
"Mrs. Yoon told me you know now."
Kei nodded.
His manager sighed.
"Good."
That was not the reaction Kei expected.
"Good?"
"I was getting tired of watching you walk around completely unaware while the entire internet exploded."
Kei winced.
Fair enough.
His manager rubbed his forehead.
"Listen carefully."
His tone became serious.
"Don't go anywhere alone today."
Kei blinked.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Why?"
His manager stared at him.
"Because people are insane."
Silence.
Then—
"Fans have already started showing up outside the building."
Kei froze.
"What?"
"They think you'll make a statement."
His manager sighed.
"Some are defending you."
A pause.
"Some aren't."
Kei immediately thought of No-Ah.
His stomach twisted.
Because if fans were already gathering here—
what was happening elsewhere?
What was happening near her university?
Near the café?
Near her house?
The thought made him feel sick.
His phone remained silent in his hand.
No reply.
No-Ah still hadn't answered.
☆ ☆ ☆
For the next hour, Kei sat through meetings.
Meetings he barely remembered.
Management teams.
Public relations teams.
Legal teams.
People discussing strategies.
Statements.
Responses.
Possible outcomes.
The words blurred together.
Because every few minutes—
he checked his phone.
Nothing.
No-Ah still hadn't responded.
Eventually he stopped pretending to focus.
His thoughts kept drifting back to the articles.
Back to the printed pages Mrs. Yoon had shown him.
One particular sentence refused to leave his mind.
A source claims the student currently works part-time at a café near campus.
Kei stared at the conference table.
His heartbeat suddenly slowed.
Then sped up.
Wait.
How did they know that?
The question hit him like cold water.
His eyes widened slightly.
Because the more he thought about it—
the worse it became.
No-Ah's workplace wasn't public.
Her address wasn't public.
Most of her classmates barely knew she worked at the café.
So how—
Kei sat up straighter.
Someone had looked.
Someone had searched.
Actively.
Deliberately.
The realization made his skin crawl.
This wasn't random.
This wasn't internet speculation.
Someone had investigated her.
Someone had decided that finding her personal information was acceptable.
His grip tightened around his phone.
Without thinking, he opened their chat again.
And typed.
Are you okay?
He stared at the message.
Then hit send.
The bubble appeared instantly.
Seen by nobody.
Read by nobody.
Just sitting there.
Waiting.
The same way he was.
☆ ☆ ☆
[No-Ah]
Yun-Ra refused to leave.
Not that No-Ah was complaining.
The house felt too quiet otherwise.
Too empty.
Too large.
Every creak made her glance toward the door.
Every passing motorcycle made her look toward the window.
Even though she knew that was ridiculous.
The sign had already been removed.
Yun-Ra had torn it down immediately.
Yet somehow—
No-Ah could still see it.
Still picture those words.
Leave him alone.
Stop ruining his life.
Her chest tightened.
She stared down at the untouched bowl of noodles in front of her.
Yun-Ra crossed her arms.
"You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"Too bad."
No-Ah sighed.
Yun-Ra pushed the bowl closer.
"Eat."
"No."
"Eat."
Yun-Ra pointed a chopstick at her.
"You are literally proving my point."
Despite everything—
a tiny laugh escaped No-Ah.
Small.
Weak.
But real.
Yun-Ra immediately noticed.
"There."
"What?"
"That."
No-Ah frowned.
"That sounded almost human."
"You're annoying."
"I know."
For a moment—
things felt almost normal.
Almost.
Then No-Ah's phone buzzed.
Both girls froze.
The sound seemed unusually loud.
No-Ah stared at it.
Yun-Ra stared too.
Neither moved.
The phone buzzed again.
Then again.
Then stopped.
Silence returned.
Slowly, No-Ah picked it up.
Her stomach immediately dropped.
Notifications flooded the screen.
Messages.
Tags.
Mentions.
Comments.
Friend requests.
Unknown numbers.
More notifications than she had ever seen in her life.
It felt endless.
Her hands trembled slightly.
Yun-Ra noticed.
Without saying anything, she moved closer.
Shoulders touching.
A silent reminder that she wasn't alone.
No-Ah swallowed.
Then opened one message.
Big mistake.
The words appeared instantly.
Stay away from him
Another.
You're ruining his career!!!
Another.
Attention seeker
Another.
You don't deserve him
No-Ah quickly locked the screen again.
Her breathing felt strange.
Too shallow.
Too fast.
Yun-Ra quietly took the phone from her hands.
"Enough."
No-Ah looked away.
Ashamed.
Embarrassed.
Overwhelmed.
Everything at once.
Then Yun-Ra frowned.
"Wait."
"What?"
"There are missed calls."
No-Ah blinked.
"What?"
Yun-Ra handed the phone back.
Three missed calls.
All from Kei.
Her heart skipped.
Below them was a message.
Are you ok?
The room suddenly felt very quiet.
Yun-Ra carefully watched her expression.
No-Ah stared at the screen.
Reading the message again.
And again.
And again.
Because somehow—
out of everything she'd seen today—
that was what affected her most.
Not the insults.
Not the articles.
Not the rumors.
Just three simple words.
Are you ok?
Because she could practically hear him saying them.
Could imagine the concern.
The worry.
The panic.
Yun-Ra leaned her head against the couch.
"So."
No-Ah blinked.
"So?"
"Are you going to answer him?"
No-Ah looked back at the phone.
Her thumb hovered above the keyboard.
Then stopped.
What was she supposed to say?
No.
She wasn't okay.
Not even close.
But saying that felt impossible somehow.
Yun-Ra seemed to understand.
Because her voice softened.
"He probably thinks you're avoiding him."
The thought made No-Ah's chest ache.
Because that wasn't true.
Not even slightly.
Slowly—
she began typing.
I'm okay
She stared at it.
Then deleted it.
A lie.
She tried again.
I'm safe.
Pause.
Then she added:
Yun-Ra is with me.
A second later—
the message sent.
The reply arrived almost instantly.
As though Kei had been staring at his phone the entire time.
Thank God.
No-Ah blinked.
Then unexpectedly smiled.
Just a little.
Just enough.
Yun-Ra noticed.
And quietly looked away.
Pretending not to.
☆ ☆ ☆
[Kei]
The message arrived halfway through another meeting.
His phone vibrated once.
Kei looked down.
And immediately forgot everything else.
I'm safe.
Yun-Ra is with me.
Relief hit him so hard it was almost painful.
The tension in his chest loosened instantly.
Not completely.
But enough.
Enough that he could finally breathe again.
He typed back immediately.
Thank God.
Then paused.
There was so much he wanted to say.
So much he needed to say.
I'm sorry.
This is my fault.
Are you scared?
Did anyone bother you?
Have you eaten?
Are you crying?
Instead—
he stared at the screen.
Unable to choose.
Because none of those messages felt sufficient.
None of them felt enough.
Eventually—
he locked his phone.
And sat back.
The meeting continued around him.
Voices.
Strategies.
Plans.
Yet for the first time all day—
his thoughts weren't spiraling.
Because she was safe.
At least for now.
Safe.
The word repeated inside his head.
For now.
Because that was the problem.
The situation wasn't over.
Not even close.
The articles were spreading.
The video was spreading.
People were still talking.
Still digging.
Still searching.
And every minute that passed—
more people learned her name.
The thought made him sick all over again.
His phone buzzed.
A new message.
From No-Ah.
Kei immediately opened it.
Did Mrs. Yoon yell at you?
He stared.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
Right there in the middle of the meeting.
Several people looked over.
Kei didn't care.
Because somehow—
somehow—
after everything—
that was the first thing she'd asked.
Not about herself.
Not about the scandal.
About him.
His chest tightened.
Warmly this time.
He typed back.
Surprisingly no
A pause.
Then:
She looked disappointed
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then finally:
That sounds worse.
Kei smiled before he could stop himself.
For the first time that day—
the weight pressing against his chest felt a little lighter.
Not gone.
Never gone.
But lighter.
Because No-Ah was still there.
Still herself.
Still worrying about other people when the world seemed determined to make her miserable.
And somehow—
that made him want to protect her even more.
No matter what happened next.
No matter how difficult things became.
He would find a way.
Because Mrs. Yoon had been right about one thing.
This wasn't just about him anymore.
And if this situation was dragging No-Ah into the storm—
then he would stand in front of it.
Even if it meant facing the entire world.
Because the thought of her sitting alone with those comments—
those articles—
those threats—
hurt far more than anything people could ever say about him.
And for the first time since seeing the video—
Kei understood something with absolute certainty.
He wasn't afraid for his career.
He was afraid for her.
And that terrified him far more.
☆ ☆ ☆