Xinyue noticed it, because once you noticed it, you couldn't unsee it. He never stood with his back to a door.
It wasn't dramatic or anything. No sudden spins or paranoid glances, just a quiet deliberate positioning like his shoulder angled, his weight slightly shifted, his line of sight causally grazing exits like a habit learned too young to remember learning.
At first, she told herself she was imagining things. That was before the third time she caught him doing it. The hospital cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday chaos – cutlery clattering, nurses arguing about stolen yogurt, the air thick with disinfect and burnt coffee. Xinyue balance her try awkwardly, already regretting not skipping lunch entirely, when she felt his presence behind her.
Not close enough to touch or close enough to notice.
"Don't tell me, "She said without turning. "You are going to say this seat was already taken."
"I was going to say you're blocking traffic, but that works too" he relied calmly.
She glances over her shoulder. He was holding nothing. No tray, no coffee, and no intension of eating. "Do you ever eat," she asked, squinting at him, "or do you survive entirely on intimidation and bad timing."
His mouth twitched at that, "I eat."
"When?"
"When it's safe."
She snorted and stepped aside, letting a pair of intern's rush past, nearly colliding with a cart of dirty trays. He moved with her subtle, instinctive guiding her away from the flow, his hand hovering near her elbow without touching.
Again, the almost touch lingered longer than it should have. She chose a table near the wall, dropping into the chair with a sigh. He sat opposite her, back to the wall, eyes scanning the room like it was a checklist only he could see.
There it was again.
Xinyue stabbed at her rice, watching him over the rim of her spoon. "You're doing it."
"Doing what?" he asked.
"Watching the doors."
His gaze didn't shift. "It's a cafeteria. People come and go."
"That's not what I mean." She learned forward. "You catalog them. That door, the side exit, even the one marked staff only."
He finally looked at her then, dark eyes steady. "Occupational habit."
"Your occupation being…. what exactly?" she pressed.
Silence stretched at that, not awkward but a deliberate one. He picked up her fork, turned it absent mindedly between his fingers, then set it back down, exactly parallel to the tray.
"You don't want to know that answer," he said finally.
"I never want answers," she replied lightly. "I just keep finding them anyway."
Something passed over his face – something sharp and unreadable. Before he leaned back, eyes returning to the exits. that's when someone dropped into the chair beside Xinyue without warning.
"Wow," a voice chirped. "Is this seat taken or are we just ignoring personal space today?"
Xinyue turned to the side. "Lina…"
"…Nurse Lina," the women corrected brightly, flashing a grin that suggested she knew more than she was letting on. Her eyes flicked between Xinyue and the man across from them, interest sharpening. "And wow, you didn't tell me you brought security with cheekbones."
Xinyue nearly choked at her remark. "He's not…" she started.
"Security," Lina repeated, nodding sagely. "Or very intense boyfriend. I'm flexible either way."
"I'm neither," she said calmly at them both.
Lina raised a brow with lots of amusement and enthusiasm. "That's not denial, I see."
Xinyue did a hard kick at Lina under the table. She yelped, then leaned closer, whispering loudly, "So, that's a, yes???"
The man's lips curved faintly. "I stand corrected. She's violent."
"Only when provoked," Xinyue muttered.
Lina's eyes sparkled. "I like him already."
She turned to Xinyue. "So…did you hear?"
"Hear what?" Xinyue asked warily.
"That's Dr. Koh's transfer request went through overnight." Xinyue froze at the new found information. "Transferred? on what basis?" she echoed. "He was on leave, a fucking medical leave."
"Not anymore it seems," Lina said, shrugging. "Name wiped from the schedule this morning. HR say's it's temporary reassignment."
"That's not how reassignment should work," Xinyue said slowly.
Lina lowered her voice. "Exactly."
Across the table, his posture had shifted minute, almost imperceptible but his attention sharpened like a blade drawn halfway. "When did this happen?" he asked.
Lina blinked at him. "Early this morning. Why?"
"No reason," he said, already watching the doors again. Xinyue's appetite vanished. After Lina left casting one last curious glance over her shoulder, Xinyue staring at her untouched food. "That's the third," she said quietly to no one in particular.
"Third what?" she asked.
"Third person connected to the missing file who's vanished or been moved." She looked up at him. "That's not a coincidence."
"No." he agreed. "It's a containment."
The word settled between them like a weight. They walked corridor afterwards, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. The hospital felt different too bright, too open too watches. Every reflection in the glass made Xinyue tense.
"You're doing it again," she said.
He didn't deny it. "You noticed."
"YES," she snapped at him. "Which means it's not subtle."
"That means it's urgent."
She stopped walking. He stopped instantly, turning to face her, eyes searching her face like he was checking for injuries she hadn't reported. "You don't get to decide urgency for me," she said.
"I get to decide everyone's survivals the." He replied just as softly. The hallway felt suddenly narrow.
"You didn't ask," she whispered.
"No," he admitted. "I didn't."
"Because you knew I'd say no."
His jaw tightened at that, and started to think why he is going back and forth with these questions. "Because I knew you'd hesitate."
"Same thing."
They stood there, the space between them humming with things unsaid. A nurse passed by, glancing at them curiously, breaking the moment. He exhaled slowly. "You're being watched, Xinyue."
"I know."
"Not like before."
Her stomach dropped. "Define before."
He stepped closer not enough to touch but close enough that she could feel the warmth of him, the steadiness.
"Before, they observed and now they're adjusted the variables like you."
"I'm a person," she snapped. "Not an experiment."
His voice lowered. "Not to them."
She swallowed. "Then why am I still alive?" she asked.
His eyes held onto hers. "Because you're useful."
The word stung more than she expected. He must have seen it, because his hand lifted, hesitated to comfort her, then dropped again. "And because someone decided you were worth the trouble."
"Someone?" she repeated.
"Yes."
"Was it you?"
He didn't answer to her. Later that evening, as dusk painted the city in bruised purples and golds, Xinyue stood by her apartment door, keys in her hand.
Something felt wrong. Her hallway was quiet. Too quiet for a normal residency apartment complex. The door across from hers Mrs. Tan's was ajar. That was unusual. Mrs. Tan never left her door open. Xinyue reached for her phone.
It buzzed first.
Unknow Number:Don't go inside.
Her breath caught. She turned slowly.
At the end of the hallway, the emergency exit door stood open.
And for the first time since she'd met him…
He wasn't there, watching it.