The cycle continued.
For two weeks, Jisoo brought the coffee.
Mr. Choi drank it.
No words. No acknowledgment. Just routine.
Two weeks turned into a month.
Every day, same time. Jisoo would enter the house, place the cup on the table, bow, and leave. Sometimes Mr. Choi didn't even look at him. Sometimes he watched him like he was measuring something invisible.
One afternoon, after placing the coffee down, Jisoo turned toward the study corner to revise his notes. Summer exams were over, but habits didn't disappear that easily.
Then—
A shout.
Sharp. Explosive.
Jisoo's body reacted before his mind did.
Run.
That was all he could think.
His mother had warned him countless times.
Jaehan had warned him too.
Mr. Choi was dangerous.
Cold. Violent. Merciless.
And worst of all — cruel to his own son.
His mother once told him quietly, "Be thankful I love you the way I do. Some children aren't that lucky."
The study door was half open.
Before Jisoo could step back
Crash.
A vase flew out of the room, smashing against the wall. Jisoo barely dodged it, heart slamming against his ribs.
Mr. Choi noticed him.
"Come in."
Jisoo swallowed hard and obeyed.
Inside the study, the air felt dead.
A boy knelt on the floor.
Head bowed. Shoulders still.
So still Jisoo wondered if he was breathing.
Mr. Choi spoke casually, as if nothing had happened.
"What's your name?"
"H-Hong Jisoo, sir."
"Oh," Mr. Choi said. "So you're Mrs. Hong's son."
Jisoo nodded.
"She always brags about you," he continued. "Says you're good at studies."
"Yes, sir. I got first position this semester."
Mr. Choi hummed.
"Then she's not lying. Which school?"
Jisoo answered.
Mr. Choi nodded once. "Good boys study harder."
Then, coldly—
"Leave."
Jisoo bowed and stepped back.
"I said leave."
The command wasn't for him.
The boy on the floor slowly stood up.
As he passed Jisoo, his body suddenly gave way. He stumbled forward, crashing into Jisoo's chest.
He instinctively grabbed his arm.
"Are you okay?"
No answer.
The boy shoved him away hard and walked off.
Jisoo looked up just for a second and saw the bruises.
Dark. Deep. Ugly.
His chest burned.
"What do you think of yourself?" Jisoo shouted after him. "You crazy, spoiled loser!"
The boy didn't stop.
Didn't turn.
Didn't react.
And that was worse.
That face stayed with Jisoo long after.
Summer passed.
Coffee. Bow. Leave.
Every day, Jisoo searched the house with his eyes. Corridors, stairs, balconies.
He never found him again.
Still, for reasons he couldn't explain, he wanted to.
When summer vacation ended, Jisoo went to Mr. Choi one last time.
"Sir," he said respectfully, "school reopens on Monday. I've arranged for the café to deliver the coffee directly."
Mr. Choi didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at him.
"Where do you study?" he asked again.
Jisoo told him.
Mr. Choi's lips curved slightly.
"Interesting."