The rooftop was quiet.
A cool night breeze swept across the open space, lifting the edges of Ji-Ho's book as he finished the last page.
The sky had already darkened, the faint glow of the moon replacing the sun.
Ji-Ho adjusted his glasses and closed the book gently.
He had stayed longer than he meant to.
Living at Ji-Bok's house was only temporary — he knew that. He couldn't rely on someone else forever.
Sooner or later, he had to return, face things properly, and stand on his own again.
He slipped the book into his bag and headed toward the stairwell.
By the time he reached the lower floors, the school felt completely different from the daytime — too quiet, too empty.
His footsteps echoed softly through the hallway.
Then—
"You didn't go back home?"
The calm voice came from behind him.
Ji-Ho turned.
Mr. Yoo Joon stood a few steps away, hair falling slightly into his eyes, hands tucked into his pockets as usual. His expression was unreadable but steady.
Ji-Ho nodded once. "Yes… I didn't."
"It's getting dark," Mr. Yoo Joon said. "You should head home."
Ji-Ho was about to respond when—
BANG!
A loud, sudden noise shattered the silence.
Ji-Ho flinched.
Mr. Yoo Joon turned sharply toward the direction of the sound.
"Who else is still here…?" he murmured.
Another faint hit followed, weaker this time.
Ji-Ho swallowed. "Should we… check it out?"
Mr. Yoo Joon was already moving.
"Stay close."
Their footsteps quickened as they followed the noise down the dim hallway.
Meanwhile—
Ji-Woo staggered backward from the classroom door, her hair messy, strands clinging to her damp cheeks. Her breathing came unevenly as she clutched the metal handle again, forcing her tired arms to lift.
She banged on the door.
Once.
Twice.
The sound barely carried now — dull and weak.
"Help…" she tried, but her voice scraped painfully against her throat.
She hit the door again, but her hands were trembling. The skin across her knuckles had turned red from all the pounding.
Her strength gave out.
Ji-Woo slowly sank to the floor.
Her eyes shimmered, not quite crying but close. Even swallowing hurt now.
The classroom felt tighter than before.
Darker.
Only pale moonlight slipped through the window, stretching long shadows across the floor.
She lay down carefully, staring at the ceiling.
"It's… suffocating," she whispered.
Silence answered her.
Her eyelids grew heavy.
"Guess I'll sleep here…"
Just as her eyes closed—
A sound.
Metal shifting.
Keys.
Her head turned weakly toward the door.
The lock clicked.
The handle moved.
The door creaked open slowly, letting a thin line of hallway light spill into the room.
Ji-Woo squinted, trying to focus.
A figure stepped inside.
She recognized the worried face almost immediately.
"Mr… Yoo Joon…" she whispered, her voice barely there.
Relief washed through her so suddenly that her body didn't know how to hold it.
The tension snapped.
Her vision blurred.
Then everything went dark.
--
Ji-Bok checked his phone again.
No new messages.
No missed calls returned.
Just silence.
His thumb hovered over Ji-Woo's name before pressing call once more. He lifted the phone to his ear, pacing slowly across his room.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Nothing.
He pulled the phone away, staring at the screen as the call ended.
"Come on…" he muttered.
Ji-Woo always answered. Even if she was busy, she would send a short reply. A single word.
Anything.
But tonight?
Nothing.
A tight feeling settled in his chest.
He tried again.
Straight to ringing.
No response.
Ji-Bok dragged a hand through his hair and stood still for a moment, listening to the quiet house.
Something about this didn't feel right.
Maybe she stayed late for rehearsal.
Maybe her phone died.
Maybe—
No.
Ji-Woo wouldn't disappear without a word.
He grabbed his jacket without thinking and shoved his phone into his pocket, dialing again as he moved toward the door.
Still nothing.
Now his thoughts were racing faster than he could control them.
What if she never left school?What if something happened?
He stopped abruptly in the hallway, jaw tightening.
"Why do I feel like this…" he whispered.
Because deep down, he already knew — this wasn't normal.
He tried calling Eun-Woo next.
No answer.
His worry sharpened into urgency.
Ji-Bok stepped outside, the cool night air hitting his face, but it did nothing to calm him.
"Please pick up…" he said under his breath, staring at the dark screen.
When it remained silent, he didn't hesitate anymore.
He started toward the school.
Fast.
Each step heavier than the last, driven by a growing fear he couldn't explain — only feel.
Something was wrong.
And until he saw Ji-Woo with his own eyes, that feeling wasn't going away.
--
The school grounds had grown quiet.
Most of the lights were already off.
The sky above was dark, scattered with stars hidden behind drifting clouds.
Near the front gate, Ji-Woo sat on a bench outside a small convenience store, both hands wrapped around a warm cup.
The heat seeped into her fingers.
Slowly.
Comfortingly.
After being trapped inside that classroom for hours, even something as simple as sitting outside felt wonderful.
Across from her sat Ji-Ho.
Still neat.
Still composed.
Still looking like he had been born with a permanent expression of mild disappointment.
Neither spoke for a while.
The silence wasn't awkward.
Just quiet.
Comfortable.
The kind of silence that only happened when neither person felt pressured to fill it.
Ji-Woo blew softly across her drink.
Then glanced at him.
"Why are you still here?"
Ji-Ho looked up from the book resting on his lap.
"Hm?"
"You could've gone home."
He adjusted his glasses slightly.
"I know."
"Then why didn't you?"
A small pause.
Ji-Ho looked away.
"Asking someone to wait alone at night feels rude."
Ji-Woo blinked.
Then laughed softly.
"You stayed because of that?"
Ji-Ho shrugged.
"It's common sense."
She stared.
"No, it's not."
"It is."
"It really isn't."
Ji-Ho looked genuinely confused.
Ji-Woo laughed again.
The sound was lighter than before.
Less tired.
She looked at her drink.
Then at him.
Then asked quietly—
"Why are you helping me?"
Ji-Ho blinked.
The question seemed to catch him off guard.
"What?"
"You're helping me wait for Ji-Bok."
"Yes."
"Why?"
Ji-Ho stared at her for a moment.
Then answered simply—
"Because that's what friends do."
Ji-Woo froze.
The words settled strangely in her chest.
Friends.
A small smile appeared on her face.
She looked down.
Then back at him.
"...Are we friends?"
Ji-Ho blinked again.
Clearly he hadn't expected that question either.
For a second, he looked awkward.
Very awkward.
Then—
"Only if you want us to be."
Ji-Woo smiled.
A real one.
Soft.
Warm.
She nodded.
"Okay."
Ji-Ho looked away immediately.
Almost embarrassed.
Then Ji-Woo grinned.
"Okay, Grumpy Genius."
His head snapped toward her.
"I'm not grumpy."
"You are."
"I'm not."
"You absolutely are."
Ji-Ho frowned.
Which only proved her point.
Ji-Woo pointed immediately.
"See?"
"I'm not grumpy."
"That's exactly what a grumpy person would say."
Ji-Ho looked offended.
Actually offended.
Which made Ji-Woo laugh harder.
For a brief moment—
the exhaustion.
The fear.
The loneliness.
Everything faded.
Then—
Headlights appeared.
A familiar figure stepped out from the darkness.
Ji-Bok.
Hands shoved into his pockets.
Hair slightly messy.
Expression annoyed.
Mostly because he'd spent the last twenty minutes worrying.
His eyes immediately found Ji-Woo.
Then Ji-Ho beside her.
He walked over quickly.
"Finally."
Ji-Woo smiled.
"You're late."
Ji-Bok looked offended.
"I ran here."
"You definitely did."
"I definitely didn't."
Ji-Ho quietly closed his book.
Ji-Bok's eyes moved to him.
Then the redness on Ji-Woo's hands.
Then back to Ji-Ho.
His expression sharpened slightly.
"What happened?"
Ji-Ho answered before Ji-Woo could.
"She got locked inside one of the classrooms."
Ji-Bok's expression darkened immediately.
"What?"
"Mr. Yoo Joon found her."
Ji-Bok looked at Ji-Woo.
"Are you okay?"
She nodded.
"Tired."
His jaw tightened.
But seeing she was sitting here safely helped calm him slightly.
Then Ji-Ho stood.
Holding his book against his chest.
The movement drew both their attention.
Ji-Bok looked at him.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Ji-Ho adjusted his glasses.
"...I should go."
A pause.
Then—
"I only stayed because someone needed company."
Ji-Woo smiled softly.
Ji-Bok looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Then nodded once.
"...Thanks."
Ji-Ho blinked.
Clearly not expecting that.
Ji-Bok wasn't exactly known for sincere gratitude.
The awkwardness immediately returned.
Ji-Ho looked away.
Then back.
Then away again.
"...No problem."
A pause.
Then, in typical Ji-Ho fashion—
"Try not to lose her next time."
Ji-Bok stared.
Ji-Woo laughed.
Ji-Ho instantly looked like he regretted speaking.
He awkwardly bowed his head slightly.
"Goodnight."
Then another pause.
"...Goodbye."
He blinked once.
Adjusted his glasses.
Turned around.
And walked away.
Awkwardly.
Quietly.
Like he always did.
Ji-Woo watched him go.
A small smile remaining on her face.
Ji-Ho wasn't expressive.
Wasn't loud.
Wasn't warm in the obvious way.
But there was something about him.
Something genuine.
Something safe.
And little by little—
he had started feeling less like a classmate.
And more like a friend.
A grumpy genius friend.
Though she'd never admit she was planning to keep calling him that forever.
Beside her, Ji-Bok followed Ji-Ho's retreating figure with his eyes.
Then glanced at Ji-Woo.
"...Grumpy Genius?"
Ji-Woo immediately smiled.
"Yep."
Ji-Bok sighed dramatically.
"That is the worst nickname I've ever heard."
"It's perfect."
"It's terrible."
"It's perfect."
"It's terrible."
And for the first time that night—
Ji-Woo laughed. Really laughed.
The sound followed them as they started walking home together beneath the streetlights.