The next day after school, they all went together.
No one noticed how quiet Jisoo had become.
Usually Dino talked the most, Minho joked, Han asked questions and Jisoo reacted to all of it. But today he walked half a step behind them, hands inside his pockets, eyes fixed on the ground.
He already knew what waited behind that gate. Not the house. But the memories.
As the iron gates opened.
Jaehan was already standing there as if he had been watching them arrive for a while.
"Come in," he said calmly.
They followed him inside. The moment they crossed the entrance, everyone slowed down. The floor shined like water. The walls were decorated with framed paintings, not posters but real art. The air even smelled expensive.
No clutter. No noise. No warmth.
Just… controlled silence.
Dino whispered but his whisper echoed, "This doesn't look like a house… it looks like a Palace."
Woohyun walked near a statue and circled it. "If I sell this, I can retire before graduation."
Dino added, still staring everywhere, "I knew he was rich but THIS rich? I could steal one showpiece and live peacefully for five years."
Everyone laughed. Even Jisoo. But his laugh came late. And ended first. Because unlike them this place never impressed him. But suffocated him.
Then he saw her.
His mother crossing the hallway carrying alot of folded clothes. His chest tightened.
"You guys go ahead," he said quietly. "I'll join you guys." He didn't wait for a response and walked away to help his mother.
Han watched him leave.
"Where's he going?"
Dino shrugged. "His mom works here. Probably went to meet her."
Han's brain stopped.
"…works here?"
And suddenly dozens of small memories rearranged themselves into one ugly truth.
Lunchboxes.
Jisoo bring lunchbox for Seungmin. He always insisting him to eat it. But never eating with them.
(The food… wasn't his.)
(It was made here.)
(For Seungmin.)
A sharp guilt crawled up his spine.
(What have I done...)
Flashback
Han started noticing it months ago.
He and Seungmin naturally stayed together same practice, same walk home, same café. But there was always a third presence.
Jisoo's eyes.
Not obvious. Never confronting. But always there. At first Han thought it was irritation. Then he saw the difference. When others talked to Seungmin, Jisoo ignored it. When Han talked to Seungmin,Jisoo watched.
Carefully. Too carefully.
One evening Han went to the boxing gym. The place smelled of sweat and leather. Seungmin was practicing footwork. And Jisoo… Jisoo wasn't acting like a friend.
He moved around him without thinking adjusting stance, blocking hits, instinctively reaching whenever Seungmin lost balance.
He never once did that for anyone else expect for Han. He understood immediately. Before even admitting it to himself. Jisoo noticed him and jogged over.
"Han? Why are you here?"
"I came to see you guys."
Jisoo smiled slightly. "Really? I thought you came for Seungmin."
Han nudged him awkwardly. "You too now?"
Jisoo laughed softly. "Sit. I'll bring snacks."
Han sat and watched Seungmin train. He didn't look like a beginner. He looked like someone who forgot he was good.
Soon Jisoo returned and sat beside him. They watched in silence. Han's chest felt tight. He spoke before courage disappeared.
"Jisoo… I like Seungmin."
Jisoo turned slowly. Not angry. Not surprised.
Just… still.
"Really?" he said lightly. "I thought you hated teasing."
Han stared at the floor. "Yes I hate it. I don't know why. But I like him. And I know that. "
Jisoo looked back at Seungmin.
His voice was calm.
"It's fine. You can like anyone."
Then Han asked what he truly wanted to know.
"…You don't like him?"
For the first time Jisoo had no answer. Not denial. Not acceptance. Silence. He was shocked how he knows and how much he knows.
Han understood the silence. So he filled it up.
"You're my best friend," Han said. "I won't stand in your way. Try first."
He swallowed.
"But if you can't… let me try."
Jisoo nodded. And smiled.
But Han felt like he had stepped on something fragile.
Present
Han stood in the mansion hallway now.
And finally understood what that smile meant.
Not permission.
Resignation.
He felt sick.