By the time they returned to the hospital, the sky outside had already begun turning darker.
Soft evening colors stretched across Seoul beyond the hospital windows—blue fading into orange, then slowly into night.
Ji-Ho looked exhausted.
But lighter somehow.
Like part of the heaviness inside him had loosened after finally painting what he wanted.
Mr. Yoo-Joon carefully pushed the wheelchair back into the room while Mrs. Posh carried the paintings and supplies behind them.
The moment they entered the hospital room again, Ji-Ho slowly stood up from the wheelchair on weak legs.
His movements were careful.
Fragile.
One hand still stained faintly with dried paint along the fingers and side of his palm.
Blue.
Yellow.
Tiny traces of color still clinging to him.
Mr. Yoo-Joon instinctively reached out slightly in case he lost balance.
But Ji-Ho stayed standing.
For a second, he just looked at him quietly.
Then suddenly—
he stepped forward.
And hugged him.
Mr. Yoo-Joon froze instantly.
Ji-Ho's arms were weak around him.
Not strong.
Not dramatic.
Just sincere.
"…Thank you," Ji-Ho whispered softly.
Mr. Yoo-Joon's eyes widened slightly.
Ji-Ho lowered his head a little against his shoulder.
"For the joy before the last few days of my life."
The words shattered something in the room instantly.
Mrs. Posh looked away immediately, eyes filling.
Mr. Yoo-Joon's arms tightened around Ji-Ho at once.
"Don't say that," he muttered roughly.
But Ji-Ho only smiled faintly against him.
Tired.
Peaceful.
Like he had already accepted something everyone else was still trying to fight.
Then suddenly—
the hospital room door burst open.
Ji-Bok walked in first.
Holding balloons in one hand and flowers in the other.
Behind him—
Ji-Woo stepped inside carrying a small bag awkwardly.
Both immediately stopped upon seeing the emotional scene.
Ji-Ho blinked slowly in surprise.
"…What are you doing here?"
Ji-Bok stared at him for a second.
Then lifted the balloons slightly.
"What? I brought emotional support."
Ji-Ho let out the faintest breath-laugh through his nose.
Mrs. Posh quietly wiped at her eyes quickly while pretending to organize things nearby.
Ji-Woo stepped closer carefully.
"We heard what happened," she said softly.
Ji-Ho looked genuinely confused now.
Because they had never really been close.
Not deeply.
Ji-Woo and him had only exchanged conversations here and there.
And Ji-Bok—
most of their interactions involved Ji-Ho cleaning up some trouble Ji-Bok accidentally caused.
So seeing them here…
actually here…
felt unreal.
Ji-Bok awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.
Then suddenly looked directly at Ji-Ho.
"…If I never told you before," he said slowly, "or if it looked like I avoided you…"
Ji-Ho blinked.
Ji-Bok continued quietly "It wasn't avoidance."
The room went still.
Ji-Bok looked down briefly before speaking again. "You're honestly the smartest person I know."
Ji-Ho stared at him silently.
"And probably the only person smart enough for me to call my best friend."
Ji-Ho froze completely.
Like he genuinely didn't know how to process those words.
His lips parted slightly.
"…What?"
Ji-Bok shrugged awkwardly.
"You heard me."
Ji-Ho's eyes suddenly filled before he could stop it.
Not loud crying.
Just quiet tears slipping out from pure surprise.
Because nobody had ever really said things like that to him before.
Not openly.
Not sincerely.
Ji-Bok immediately looked uncomfortable seeing him cry.
"Okay don't do that," he muttered quickly. "You're making this weird."
That only made Ji-Ho laugh weakly through the tears.
Then step forward carefully and hug him lightly.
Ji-Bok blinked.
Then slowly hugged him back too.
Awkward at first.
But real.
"…Thanks," Ji-Ho whispered quietly.
Ji-Bok ruffled his hair roughly afterward to hide his own emotions.
"Yeah, yeah."
Then he glanced around the room.
"So," he said quickly, "did you actually have fun today or what?"
That made Ji-Ho brighten slightly.
Immediately he moved toward the painting carefully resting against the wall.
He picked it up slowly and showed them.
The skyline.
The river.
The flowers.
Mrs. Posh beneath the sunlight.
Mr. Yoo-Joon beside her.
Warm colors blending across the city beautifully.
Ji-Woo's eyes widened slightly.
"…It's beautiful."
Ji-Bok stared longer.
Quiet for once.
Then smiled faintly.
"It feels alive," he murmured.
Ji-Ho looked down at the painting softly.
"That's because I painted what I loved."
Silence settled gently after that.
Ji-Bok glanced at the artwork again.
Then said quietly—
"Guess it's the same thing for both of us."
Ji-Ho looked at him.
Ji-Bok shrugged slightly.
"You paint."
Then lifted the camera hanging from his shoulder.
"I take photos."
Ji-Ho nodded slowly.
Understanding immediately.
Different art.
Same feeling.
Ji-Woo watched both boys quietly from nearby.
And for a moment the hospital room didn't feel sad anymore.
Not fully.
Because even with sickness sitting heavily in the background…
Ji-Ho was smiling.
Weak.
Tired.
But real.
And surrounded by people who finally saw him clearly before time could take him away.
---
Jeju felt different that morning.
Not heavier.
Not lighter either.
Just… clearer.
Like the air itself had finally decided to stop lying.
Ji-Soo walked through the school gates in her uniform, steps steady and confident in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.
Her hair was neatly tied, her posture straight, her expression calm—but there was something sharper behind her eyes now.
Something resolved.
Students passed by her, some glancing, some whispering, but she didn't slow down for any of it.
Not anymore.
She already knew what she had to do.
Then she saw her.
Fah.
Standing near the walkway with her usual bright expression, holding a drink and looking like she had no idea she was about to be attacked emotionally.
Ji-Soo stopped.
Then her face lit up instantly.
"SKY!!!"
Fah turned sharply. "Ji-Soo?"
Before she could even finish the name—
Ji-Soo rushed forward and hugged her tightly.
So tightly it almost knocked Fah's drink slightly off balance.
Fah blinked in confusion, arms half-raised.
"…Uh—Ji-Soo?"
Ji-Soo didn't let go immediately.
"I missed you," she said quickly.
Fah froze.
Then slowly patted her back.
"…You saw me yesterday."
Ji-Soo pulled back slightly, still holding her shoulders.
"Yes," she nodded seriously. "But I definitely missed you in the last few hours."
Fah stared at her.
Then burst out laughing softly.
"Oh is that so?"
Ji-Soo nodded again, completely serious.
"Very much."
Fah shook her head, still smiling.
"You're getting dramatic."
Before Ji-Soo could respond—
Min-jun appeared from the side.
He glanced at the scene, then immediately grabbed Fah's arm and gently pulled her back.
"Move," he said calmly. "Before she squeezes you to death."
Ji-Soo immediately shook her head.
"She's doing it willingly."
Fah raised both hands slightly.
"I am, unfortunately."
Min-jun sighed.
"You two are impossible."
Ji-Soo finally let Fah go, stepping back slightly.
But she didn't stop smiling.
And for a moment—
she just stood there quietly.
Watching them.
Feeling something warm settle in her chest that she hadn't allowed herself to feel in a long time.
Fah tilted her head slightly.
"…You okay?"
Ji-Soo paused.
Then smiled softly.
Not forced.
Not tired.
Just real.
"I am," she said quietly.
And then—
her eyes drifted slightly to the side.
Eun-Woo.
The thought alone made something inside her shift.
Not pain this time.
Not confusion.
Just memory.
Warm.
Calm.
Like something that once mattered deeply… but no longer controlled her anymore.
She exhaled slowly.
Then looked forward again.
Min-jun noticed her expression change slightly.
"…What?" he asked.
Ji-Soo shook her head.
"Nothing."
But her lips curved slightly.
A small smirk forming at the corner.
Because she could already feel it.
The shift.
The unraveling.
Everything Mi-Sook had built on control and silence—
was finally starting to crack.
Ji-Soo adjusted her bag strap.
"…Now," she murmured softly.
Fah blinked.
"Now what?"
Ji-Soo's eyes sharpened slightly.
Now Mi-Sook was really going to get ruined.
Fah tilted her head, still studying Ji-Soo like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
"…Wait," she said slowly. "Did you grow your hair out or dye it or something? Because you look different."
Ji-Soo blinked once.
Then looked at her very calmly.
Not offended.
Not rushed.
Just… patient.
She adjusted her bag strap slightly and replied in a flat, matter-of-fact tone.
"No."
Fah squinted.
"…No?"
Ji-Soo nodded.
"No. I just stopped looking like I was running from something every day."
A beat of silence.
Fah froze.
Min-jun, who was still standing nearby, turned his head slightly like he was pretending not to laugh.
Ji-Soo continued casually, as if it was the most normal explanation in the world.
"When you sleep properly, eat properly, and stop stressing about people trying to ruin your life," she added, "your face changes."
Fah opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Then finally pointed at her.
"…That was unnecessarily deep for a morning conversation."
Ji-Soo shrugged lightly.
"It was a simple question."
Fah exhaled.
"…I regret asking."
Ji-Soo smiled faintly.
"Good."
Min-jun finally let out a small laugh, shaking his head.
"Yeah, don't ask her things like that. You'll get life lessons for free."
Fah muttered under her breath.
"I just asked about hair…"