The trophy felt heavy in Haru's hands.
It wasn't a metaphor. It was literally heavy — polished gold shaped like a rising flame, engraved with the name of the show and the date of their first win.
Around him, the others were yelling, laughing, half-crying. Minhee was already taking selfies with it. Shiro kept repeating, "This is insane," like he couldn't believe it. Riki held the group mic, voice steady as he thanked Umbra and the staff. Seojun stood tall beside Haru, expression unreadable but his hand firm on Haru's shoulder.
They were a wall of joy.
Haru stood in the middle, silent.
He smiled, he bowed, he waved.
But inside?
Static.
He couldn't hear the music anymore. Couldn't feel the confetti fluttering around them. Couldn't even remember the moment they announced their name.
Because Minju wasn't there.
For the first time since the accident, he felt completely alone on stage.
The van ride back to the dorms was loud and chaotic. Shiro had his legs flung over Seojun's lap. Riki was replying to comments at lightning speed. Minhee was livestreaming for Umbra with the trophy balanced on his head.
Haru leaned against the window, cheek pressed to the cold glass.
Outside, the city blurred past in streaks of gold and gray.
He wasn't sure how long he stared before he saw her.
Third crosswalk. Red scarf. Same girl.
She stood still in the sea of moving people, camera in her hands again. Watching him.
He blinked.
She was gone.
His breath caught.
"You okay?" Seojun asked quietly beside him.
Haru nodded without turning. "Yeah. Just tired."
Seojun didn't press, but he didn't look away either.
Back at the dorms, celebrations continued. Chicken. Soda. Half-wrapped gifts sent by Umbra fans.
Haru slipped away before dessert.
He entered the bedroom, shut the door softly, and collapsed onto his mattress.
The silence hit like a wave.
Minju wasn't there.
Her usual perch above the dresser was empty. No humming. No flicker in the light. No sarcastic greeting.
Just the soft sound of the clock ticking on the wall.
He rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling.
"Where are you?" he whispered.
No answer.
He opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and pulled out the notebook — the new one. The one he'd started after their debut.
On the last page, the words he'd written two nights ago were still there:
**"What if she's not forgetting me. What if she's being forgotten."
He gripped the pen tight.
Next page. Blank.
He wrote:
"Tonight, I saw the red scarf girl again. Crosswalk. Three seconds. Camera in hand. Not Minju. Not random. She looked straight at me. She knew."
He paused.
"Minju is still missing. Third day. No trace. No sound. Room feels colder. I don't know how to make her come back."
He stared at the words, then underlined one:
come back
At 3:11 AM, something changed.
He woke with a start, heart pounding. The dorm was dark.
A single note rang from the keyboard in the corner.
He sat up fast.
Another note. A soft C.
He stood and crossed the room.
No one was there.
But on the keys, a tiny scrap of paper.
Torn from a notebook.
One line, in Minju's familiar messy handwriting:
**"I remember the hallway now. And the mirror. - M"
Haru's knees buckled.
He clutched the note like a lifeline.
She was still here.
Somewhere.
Fading.
Fighting.
And suddenly, he knew.
If she couldn't come back fully on her own…
Then he'd have to find a way to follow the thread.
To the hallway.
To the mirror.
To wherever she was trying to lead him.