Sunday morning arrived with a rare, peaceful quiet in the apartment.
Yuki stood in front of the living room mirror, adjusting the collar of his worn-out grey hoodie. He looked at his reflection—messy hair covering half his face, baggy sweatpants, and his usual silver piercings along with his glasses. To him, he looked ready for anything.
"Where do you think you're going dressed like a hobo?"
Yuki jumped slightly. Hana was leaning against the doorframe, a laundry basket on her hip and a judgmental eyebrow raised high enough to touch her hairline.
"You should stop barging into my apartment uninvited." Yuki stated looking back at the mirror.
"My aunt owns the building." Hana retorted. "So, where are you going?"
Yuki turned, striking a dramatic pose with a fist over his heart. "I am going to war, Hana. Pray for my safe return."
Hana didn't blink. "War?"
"Yes," Yuki sighed, dropping the act. "A social war. I'm going on a 'friend date' with Seri. It requires maximum stamina and strategic conversation."
Hana stared at him for a long three seconds. Her brain tried to process the sheer density of the boy standing in front of her. A friend date? With a girl who clearly worships the ground you walk on? You absolute potato.
She looked him up and down, her expression shifting from confusion to horror. "You are not going on a date with a Kyorin looking like you just rolled out of a dumpster."
"I look fine!" Yuki protested, gesturing to his hoodie. "It's comfortable! It has pockets!"
"Sit," Hana commanded, pointing to a chair.
"No. I'm already perfect. I'm leaving—"
"Luna! Get the rope!"
Before Yuki could react, tiny arms wrapped around his legs, anchoring him to the spot. Luna looked up at him with determined, starry eyes. Yuki was dragged to the chair and swiftly bound with a skipping rope.
"This is a violation of my human rights!" Yuki shouted as Hana draped a barber's cape over him.
"Quiet," Hana said, snapping a pair of electric clippers on. The ominous buzz filled the room. "You need a haircut. You look like a sheep dog."
Yuki's eyes widened in genuine terror. "Don't touch my hair, you foul demon! It's the source of my power! Where did you even get all this barber's equipment?!"
"Hold still or you'll lose an ear!" Hana barked, grabbing a lock of his black hair.
Despite Yuki's dramatic wailing, Hana worked with the precision of a surgeon. She didn't cut it all off; she knew his "wild" look was part of his charm. Instead, she trimmed the sides down, fading them neatly to give his face structure, while leaving the top long and textured. She styled the bangs so they framed his face rather than hiding it.
Next, she attacked the accessories.
"Silver is boring," she muttered, removing his standard hoops. She went to get her jewelry box and pulled out a pair of small, deep sapphire studs. "These. They match your eyes."
"I feel like a doll," Yuki grumbled, rubbing his newly shorn neck. "Are we done?"
"Not even close. The glasses." She snatched the frames off his face.
"Hey! I need those to look approachable!"
"You don't need them." Hana argued. "And finally... the outfit."
She went into his closet, tossing the grey hoodie into the "burn pile." She pulled out pieces she had bought him days ago but he never wore because they were "too flashy."
[Yuki's Date Outfit]
Top: A fitted, black mock-neck shirt that clung slightly to his chest, layered under an open, oversized cream-colored cardigan with a distressed knit texture. It softened his intimidating aura while highlighting his broad shoulders.
Bottoms: Black cargo-style techwear pants with straps that gave him a modern, urban-samurai look.
Footwear: High-top white sneakers with black accents.
Accessories: The new blue sapphire stud earrings and a simple silver chain necklace tucked under the black shirt.
"Put this on. No perfume," Hana instructed, sniffing the air near him. "You already smell like winter and rain. It's annoying how good you smell naturally."
Yuki grumbled but changed into the clothes. When he walked back into the living room, the silence was deafening.
Hana dropped the hairbrush she was holding.
Luna's jaw actually dropped, her eyes wide as saucers.
Yuki stood there, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Without the glasses and the messy hair, his face was fully exposed. His sharp jawline, the piercing blue eyes now accented by the earrings, and the stylish outfit made him look like he had just stepped off a billboard in Tokyo.
He wasn't just handsome. He was ethereal.
"Is it that bad?" Yuki asked, worried by their silence. "I look weird, don't I? I look like a K-Pop idol who got lost."
"You..." Hana's face turned a bright shade of pink. She brought a hand to her mouth. Oh no. He's too powerful. If he walks outside like this, he's going to cause traffic accidents.
"You look... okay," Hana lied, her voice squeaking slightly. She immediately whipped out her phone. "Stand there. Don't move."
Click. Click. Click.
She was taking photos like a crazed paparazzi. "Just for... uh... documentation! In case you get kidnapped!"
"Hana, stop," Yuki laughed. He stepped forward, effortless and graceful, and snatched the phone from her hand.
"Hey!"
Yuki wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He held the phone up high, flashing that brilliant, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
"If you want a photo, just ask," he teased.
Click.
On the screen, Yuki looked like a god of winter, radiant and perfect. Next to him, Hana's face was almost the same color as a tomato, her eyes wide and flustered.
"Alright," Yuki said, handing the phone back and checking the time. "I'm going to war. Thanks for the haircut, demon."
He grabbed his keys and walked out the door, leaving a stunned Hana and a mesmerized Luna in his wake.
Hana stared at the closed door, clutching her phone to her chest. "That idiot... he really has no idea how to treat a girl... I'm all red now."
Seri sat at the corner table of the Midnight Bean café, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her porcelain teacup.
She checked her phone for the tenth time in two minutes. He was five minutes late.
Did I make a mistake? she thought, her heart hammering against her ribs. Maybe asking him out was too much. Maybe he realized it's weird to go on a date with the girl whose family tried to kill him. Maybe he's ghosting me.
The café was buzzing with Sunday chatter. Seri, dressed in an elegant off-shoulder emerald dress that matched her eyes, had been the center of attention since she walked in. Men were stealing glances; women were whispering about her outfit. She was the star of the room.
Ding-ling.
The bell above the door chimed.
Suddenly, the café went quiet.
It wasn't a gradual silence; it was immediate. Conversations died mid-sentence. Forks stopped halfway to mouths. Every head in the room turned toward the entrance.
Seri frowned, looking up to see what was happening.
And then her breath vanished.
Standing in the doorway, bathed in the afternoon sunlight, was Yuki. But it wasn't the Yuki she knew—the one in the baggy hoodies and messy hair.
This Yuki was a masterpiece.
The black mock-neck shirt hugged his chest, the oversized cream cardigan draped perfectly over his broad shoulders, and the tech-wear pants gave him a sharp, dangerous edge. His black hair was styled to perfection, revealing the sharp, aristocratic line of his jaw. But it was the earrings—deep blue sapphires that caught the light—that made his eyes look like two oceans.
He scanned the room, his expression bored and cool, looking like a celebrity trying to find his agent.
The "Star" of the café had shifted instantly. No one was looking at Seri anymore. Every girl in the shop was practically leaning forward.
"Who is that?"
"Is he a model?"
"I think I forgot how to breathe."
When Yuki's eyes landed on Seri, he smiled.
For Seri, the rest of the world dissolved. The café, the people, the noise—it all faded into a grey blur. There was only him. He walked toward her with an easy, fluid grace, and every step he took felt like it was crushing her heart in the best way possible.
He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.
"Sorry I'm late," Yuki said, his voice smooth. "Hana held me hostage."
Seri stared at him, her brain completely short-circuiting. The filter between her thoughts and her mouth evaporated.
"Marry me."
The café went dead silent again.
Seri froze. Her eyes widened as the words hung in the air.
Yuki blinked. Then, a slow, teasing grin spread across his face. He lifted his left hand, wiggling his ring finger.
"Bold offer, Princess," he drawled. "But I don't see a ring. You haven't even bought me dinner yet."
Seri's face turned a violent shade of crimson. She buried her face in her hands. "I... I was joking! Forget I said that! I just... I meant your hair! I like your hair!"
Yuki laughed—a rich, genuine sound that made three waitresses sigh audibly. "Relax, Seri. I know. You like the hair. Hana threatened to shave me bald if I didn't let her style it."
For the next hour, they were in their own world. They bickered over cake flavors, laughed about Derek's terrible combat poses, and argued about whether pineapples belonged on pizza (Yuki said yes, just to annoy her).
The rest of the café watched them like they were watching a movie. They were too good-looking to ignore.
At a nearby table, a waiter was pouring tea for an elderly customer. He was staring so hard at Yuki laughing that he didn't notice the cup was full. The hot tea overflowed, spilling onto the saucer, then the table, then the customer's lap.
"AHH! IT BURNS!"
"Oh! I'm so sorry, sir! I was... distracted!"