Cynthia lifts another box from the floor and sets it on the bed.
"She really brought half of Japan with her." she jokes, shaking her head as she begins to fold Mei's neatly pressed clothes.
Her hand brushes against a small medical pouch tucked between layers of silk fabric. Curious, she pulls it out.
"What's this?"
She unzips it slightly bottles clink together inside.
She reads softly, her brows furrowing.
"Tranexamic Acid… Aminocaproic Acid… Desmopressin… Ethamsylate…"
"These don't look like vitamins."
From the doorway, Ji-hyun calls out.
"Cynthia, you still unpacking her life story or what?"
Mei laughs faintly from down the hall.
"She said she wanted to help."
Her words cut off when she steps inside and sees the pouch in Cynthia's hands.
Her heart skips.
"Cynthia… where did you find that?"
Cynthia replies, frowning.
"In your clothes box. What are these for?"
Mei forces a small laugh, reaching for it quickly.
"Oh, that? Just… travel medication. You know how flights mess with my body sometimes."
Cynthia tilts her head.
"Really? Because these sound more like hospital prescriptions."
Ji-hyun's smile fades instantly. She sets down the hairdryer.
"Cynthia, maybe don't—"
Mei interrupts, her tone calm but firm.
"It's nothing serious."
She tucks the pouch behind her suitcase, her hands trembling slightly.
The silence that follows feels heavy.
Cynthia's gaze softens, but there's still worry in her eyes.
"Mei… you don't have to lie to me."
Ji-hyun exhales quietly and leans against the doorframe.
"She's not lying entirely, but it's not something she likes to talk about."
Cynthia looks between them.
"What's going on?"
Mei's facade cracks. Her eyes lower.
"It's an old injury from years ago. My arm never healed properly. Sometimes, the bleeding starts again out of nowhere."
Cynthia's expression shifts from confusion to shock.
"Bleeding? Mei, that's serious!"
Ji-hyun nods slightly, her tone firm but protective.
"She's been living with it for a long time. Her father… never allowed her to get the surgery she needed."
Cynthia's eyes darken, her voice trembling.
"That's… that's cruel."
Mei manages a small, tired smile.
"Welcome to my world. It doesn't matter now. I'm here. Away from him. That's what matters."
Cynthia steps closer, gently resting her hand on Mei's shoulder.
"Then we'll make sure you finally get that surgery and that he never hurts you again."
Mei blinks back the sting in her eyes, whispering.
"Thank you."
Ji-hyun smiles faintly.
"That's what friends are for, right?"
The tension in the room softens after a while. Ji-hyun heads downstairs to prepare dinner, leaving Mei and Cynthia to finish unpacking.
Cynthia hums quietly as she folds a stack of clothes.
"You really organized everything neatly."
Mei smiles faintly.
"Old habit."
As Cynthia reaches for another box, something thin and neatly tied with a ribbon catches her eye a small bundle of folded letters. The paper is slightly worn, the ink faded in places.
She call out softly.
"Hey, what's this?"
Mei freezes again. Her breath hitches before she even looks up.
"Cynthia, don't—"
But it's too late. Cynthia's already holding one, her curiosity piqued.
"They're addressed to you… from someone named Nero?"
Mei's expression falters. Her eyes soften, her lips part slightly, as if the name itself stirs something deep inside her.
She tries to joke, but her voice trembles.
"You can read people's letters now?"
Cynthia immediately senses the weight in her tone and lowers the letter.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. I just thought—"
Mei gently takes the bundle from her and holds it close to her chest.
"It's fine. They're… from someone I used to know and his name isnt Nero it's Eunseok."
Cynthia studies her quietly.
"Used to?"
Mei lets out a shaky breath and sits on the edge of the bed.
"We grew up together. He was my father's protégé… and the only person who ever treated me like I wasn't a burden."
Her fingers trace the edge of the top letter, her voice lowering.
"He used to send these when we couldn't meet. Words only we understood."
Cynthia sits beside her.
"So what happened?"
Mei's eyes drift toward the window, the city lights shimmering beyond.
"My father happened."
A long pause.
Cynthia doesn't ask more. Instead, she reaches over and squeezes Mei's hand gently.
"Do you still… care about him?"
Mei hesitates then whispers, almost to herself.
"I never stopped."
Ji-hyun calls them out for dinner.
Mei quickly tucks the letters back into the box, hiding them beneath a pile of scarves. Her smile returns, though her eyes still shimmer with something unspoken.
She says lightly.
"Let's go. Ji-hyun will yell if we're late."
Cynthia follows, but her gaze lingers on the box, on the name Nero written in neat, deliberate strokes.