JIAHPOV
"Student."
The word cuts through the fog in my head, blunt and unfamiliar, like it doesn't belong to me.
"Student."
I flinch so hard my shoulder knocks the window. The glass is cold against my temple and my breath stutters out of me, sharp and ugly. For a second I don't know where I am. Bus. Seat. Night. My heart slams like I just woke up from a fall.
"This is the last stop," an old male voice says. Gravelly. Tired. "You have to get off here."
I blink and sit up too fast, dizziness rushing in like punishment. The bus is stopped. Engine idling.
The overhead lights hum weakly, casting everything in that sick yellow glow that makes faces look wrong. I look around.
Empty.
Every seat. Empty.
No backpacks. No shoes sticking out into the aisle. No familiar heads slumped forward scrolling phones.
Just me and the bus and the driver watching me through the mirror like I'm a problem he wants done with.
My stomach drops.
"What?" My voice comes out thin. "This—this isn't—"
"End of the line," he says, already reaching for something near the wheel. Not unkind. Not patient either. Just factual. "Last stop."
I turn toward the window again, heart racing, and that's when it hits me.
It's dark. Not city-dark. Not streetlight-dark. Real dark. The kind that eats distance.
Trees crowd the road on both sides, tall and packed together, their branches clawing into the sky like they're trying to block it out. No buildings. No signs. No convenience store glow. Just forest and road .
Oh no.
No no no.
I scramble to my feet, almost trip over the edge of the seat, grab my bag like it might anchor me. "I—I think I missed my stop," I say, stupidly hopeful, like that sentence might reverse time.
The driver sighs, long and tired. "Everyone got off earlier. You were asleep."
I wasn't asleep.
I was thinking about Jiho's hand at her waist. I was thinking about how easy it looked. I was thinking about how stupid I was.
My throat tightens. "Can—can you just—drop me back? I didn't mean to—"
He shakes his head before I finish. "Schedule's done. I can't."
The doors hiss open.
Cold air rushes in, sharp and wet, crawling straight up my legs. The forest smells damp, like dirt and leaves and something old. My feet won't move.
"please get off ," he says again, firmer this time.
I step down.
The door closes behind me with a final hiss that feels personal. The bus pulls away almost immediately, headlights sweeping past me once before disappearing down the road, swallowed by trees.
I stand there.
Alone.
The silence is heavy. Not peaceful. Pressing. Like it's leaning in to see what I'll do.
My heart is beating so loud I swear it's echoing. I turn slowly, bag clutched to my chest, scanning the area like something might jump out if I don't look first.
There's a bus stop shed a few meters away. Old. Metal bench. A sign so faded I can't read it. Beyond that—nothing. Just trees. Endless and dark and way too close.
How did I miss this.
My eyes burn before I can stop them. Tears gather fast, traitorous, blurring the edges of everything. I swipe at them angrily, like that'll fix it.
Get it together.
I fumble for my phone, hands already shaking, and the screen lights up my face too bright. Home screen. Notifications from hours ago.
I open my messages, then my maps, then anything that might tell me I'm not completely screwed.
No signal.
I stare at the corner of the screen like it's lying to me.
I move a step. Then another. Still nothing.
My chest tightens. "Okay," I whisper, to no one. "Okay. It's fine."
It's not fine.
I walk to the shed and sit, knees pulled in, bag wedged against my side like armor. The bench is cold and slightly damp.
I keep my feet off the ground because suddenly the ground feels wrong. Like something could move under it.
I refresh my phone again.
Nothing.
My breathing starts to feel shallow, like my lungs forgot how much air they're allowed to take. I force myself to slow it down, counting in my head, even though the numbers won't line up properly.
In. Out. Again.
A sound breaks the silence.
Low. Rough. Somewhere in the trees.
I freeze.
My entire body goes still, muscles locking like that'll make me invisible. I strain my ears, heart pounding so hard it hurts.
Another sound. Closer this time. A growl. Or a snarl. I don't know. I don't want to know.
My hands start shaking for real now, fingers trembling so badly my phone almost slips out of my grip.
I clutch it tighter, knuckles aching, and stare into the dark like my eyes might adjust enough to see whatever's out there first.
Please be a dog.
Please be far away.
Please don't come closer.
I open my phone again, frantic now, refreshing like an idiot, like signal might magically appear if I beg it hard enough.
Nothing.
My breath catches and I press my lips together to keep from making a sound. Tears spill over anyway, hot and silent, streaking down my face as I sit there under flickering lights, surrounded by trees that don't care about me at all.
I think about the bus disappearing. About how no one noticed I didn't get off. About how easily the world keeps moving when you stop paying attention for one second.
I curl in on myself, phone clutched to my chest, eyes locked on the dark road ahead.
The shed light flickers again.
Once. Twice. Then steadies, like it's made a decision I wasn't part of.
I rub my sleeve over my face, rough and useless, and try to breathe without sounding like I'm about to fall apart.
My chest still feels tight, like I swallowed something sharp and it got stuck halfway down. I tell myself to stand up. To pace. To do anything except sit here like bait.
That's when I hear it.
Footsteps.
Not the soft kind. Not the distant crunch of someone passing by on the road. These are uneven. Dragging a little. Too heavy to be a jog, too deliberate to be nothing.
I lift my head slowly.
A man stumbles out of the dark.
He comes into the edge of the light like it's accidental, like he didn't plan on being seen yet. Middle-aged, maybe. Jacket hanging wrong on his shoulders.
His steps zigzag slightly, correcting themselves a second too late. His head tilts when he sees the shed, when he sees me.
My stomach drops so fast it feels like it leaves my body entirely.
No. No no no.
He walks closer. Each step feels louder than the last, like the sound is aimed straight at my spine. I shrink back without meaning to, my shoulders curling inward, phone clenched so tight my hand aches.
He steps into the shed.
The smell hits me immediately.
Alcohol. Strong and sour and stale, like it's been sitting in his pores all day. It crawls up my nose and straight into my throat, makes my stomach twist hard enough that I swallow bile.
I turn my face slightly away, breathing shallow through my mouth, trying not to gag.
He drops onto the bench with a heavy thud, close enough that I can feel the vibration. Too close. Everything about him is too close.
He looks at me.
Really looks.
"Student," he says, voice thick, words slurring just enough to set off every alarm in my body. "Are you alone?"
My heart slams against my ribs like it's trying to escape. I don't answer. I can't. My tongue feels glued to the roof of my mouth.
I shift instead, sliding a few inches away on the bench, creating space that feels pathetic and pointless. My knee bumps the metal edge and pain shoots up my leg, sharp and grounding.
"Hey." His voice hardens. "Didn't you hear what I asked you?"
I keep my eyes on the ground. On his shoes. Scuffed. One lace loose. Anything but his face.
"I said," he raises his voice, sudden and loud in the small space, "are you alone?"
I flinch hard, my whole body jerking like I got shocked.
I nod.
It's small. Barely there. But he sees it.
His mouth curls upward.
Not a smile. A smirk. Slow and knowing, like he just won something.
"Then I should come with you," he says casually, like he's offering to share an umbrella.
My blood turns cold.
"No," slips out of me before I can stop it. The word is thin and shaky and useless.
I stand up abruptly, bag slipping off my shoulder and thumping against my hip. I don't look at him. I just step out of the shed and start walking, feet moving on pure instinct.
Behind me, I hear him get up.
Footsteps follow.
"Where are you going?" he calls, amusement thick in his voice. "It's dark out here. Let me come with you."
I walk faster.
The road stretches ahead, empty and wrong, swallowed by trees on both sides. No lights. No houses. No noise except my breathing and his steps behind me.
Too close.
Too fast.
My chest burns. Tears blur my vision again, hot and sudden, spilling over no matter how hard I try to hold them back.
I keep my eyes forward, teeth clenched, arms tight to my sides like that might keep me together.
Don't look back.
Don't look back.
Just keep moving.
His footsteps speed up.
My heart is pounding so hard it's painful, each beat loud and frantic. My hands shake violently now, fingers numb, useless.
I fumble my phone out of my pocket without slowing down, screen lighting up uselessly.
Still no signal.
A sob tears out of me, ugly and loud, and I bite it back too late. I hear him laugh behind me, low and breathy.
"Hey," he says, closer now. "Slow down."
A hand grabs my wrist.
Everything explodes.
I scream.
It rips out of me raw and panicked, my whole body jerking as I twist and pull, my bag slipping, my feet stumbling. "Let go," I cry, over and over, voice breaking, head shaking wildly. "Let go let go let go—"
"Jiah."
The voice cuts through everything.
Sharp. Loud. Familiar in a way that hurts.
I freeze.
My body locks up completely, like someone hit pause.
I look up.
Enhyeok .
____________
ENHYEOK POV
The taxi smells like cigarettes and mint gum fighting to the death.
The driver keeps glancing at me through the mirror like he wants to ask something and knows better.
The road is narrow now, headlights cutting through nothing but trees and more trees, branches crowding in too close like they're nosy.
The bus should be ahead of us. It should be obvious. Big. Loud. Easy to follow.
It isn't.
I lean forward slightly, eyes scanning the road, jaw tight. Minutes pass. Too many. No red taillights. No familiar boxy shape slowing at stops.
Just darkness and the hum of the engine and my own thoughts getting louder than they have any right to be.
Where did it go.
The taxi slows.
"Can't go much further fast," the driver mutters. "Road's bad."
"Fine," I say, already leaning forward. "Just—slow down."
Then I see movement.
On the side of the road. Ahead. A figure walking too fast to be casual, shoulders hunched, steps uneven like the ground keeps surprising her. Smaller than she should look in all this dark. Easy to miss if you weren't already looking for her.
Seo Jiah.
My chest tightens, sharp and immediate, like I hit a wall internally.
Then I see him.
Behind her.
Too close. Matching her pace without trying. Hands in his pockets. Head tilted like he's enjoying himself.
I don't think anymore.
"Stop," I say, already reaching for the door. The taxi barely halts before I'm out, shoes hitting the road hard, gravel biting into my soles as I start running.
The cold air burns my lungs. My bag thumps uselessly against my back. I don't slow down. Don't shout. No warning. I just close the distance fast enough that the man notices.
He turns.
Sees me.
Really sees me.
Whatever he reads on my face is enough. His posture shifts instantly, confidence evaporating, feet backpedaling once before he turns and bolts into the trees without a word. Branches crack. Leaves rustle violently. Then nothing.
I don't chase him.
I don't need to.
Jiah is still moving, breathing hard, arms tight to her sides like she's holding herself together with force alone. She doesn't realize yet. She's still trapped in whatever loop she's been running in for the last few minutes.
I catch up and grab her wrist.
Her reaction is immediate.
She screams.
It tears out of her raw and panicked, her whole body twisting away as she yanks against my grip like an animal caught in a trap. "Let go," she sobs, words tripping over each other, head shaking violently. "Let go let go let go—"
The sound hits me square in the chest.
I loosen my grip instantly but don't let go yet, afraid she'll bolt straight into the road or the dark or something worse.
"Jiah," I say, loud enough to cut through it.
She stills.
Not slowly. Not cautiously. It's like someone flipped a switch. Her head snaps up and she looks at me properly for the first time.
Her eyes are wrecked.
Red. Wet. Too wide. Fear still clinging to the edges even as something else breaks through it. Recognition. Relief so sudden it's almost painful to watch.
Her knees buckle.
She stumbles forward and crashes into me .
My body freeze immediately.
Fuck