The clinic was silent but for the distant hum of the air conditioner, a soft midmorning glow settling through the blinds. Joon-ho poured hot water over the grounds, watching the steam curl as he waited for his coffee to bloom. The place felt emptier than usual—no knock of heels from Soo-jin, no sharp giggle from Su-bin down the hall, not even the low buzz of patient chatter. It was his official day off, the rarest thing in his calendar, but the quiet wasn't lonely. It was comfortable. Mirae was sprawled in his chair, legs up on the desk, swinging one foot with a deliberately obnoxious lack of respect for his "Doctor" sign.
"You'll leave marks," he said, glancing over his shoulder.
Mirae yawned, stretching like a cat. "I'm testing your stress levels, Dr. Kim. I heard stress ages you." She waggled her phone. "Or is that just what unholynuna says?"
He snorted, passing her a mug. "Unholynuna thinks I'm an alien. I saw the fan edit. Tentacles and everything."
