The black van rolled smoothly under Kyoto's glowing streetlamps, neon signs sliding across the windows in flashes of pink and gold. Inside, the warm cabin hummed with casual chatter. Taehyun sat in the passenger seat, relaxed but watchful, while Bora and Daejin claimed the middle row, their voices bouncing back and forth. Seri, Junho, and Hanna sat in the back, the hum of the tires filling the spaces between their words.
Bora leaned forward between the seats, her chin resting on the headrest. "So, where exactly are you taking us, Taehyun?"
"Somewhere that doesn't involve you buying your fourth kimono of the day," Daejin said dryly, earning himself a sharp side glance from Bora. "Honestly, I'm exhausted just following you around. My legs have filed an official complaint."
Bora swatted his arm but smirked anyway. "You're just out of shape."
From the back, Hanna's voice chimed in, smooth and casual. "Speaking of tomorrow… I'll be doing a live interview during the gala."
Junho turned his head toward her. "A live interview?"
"Yes." Her lips curved in a practiced, confident smile. "A quick feature, highlighting the event and… certain key people attending." Her gaze lingered on Junho a fraction too long before she looked away.
Bora's eyes lit up instantly, her whole face alive with excitement. "Wait—so I'll be on camera? What's the segment called? How many minutes do I get to talk? Should I prepare a monologue? Maybe wear something with sequins…"
Hanna didn't even blink. "The show is called Gala Leaders Unmasked. I need actual decision-makers. You'll get about… forty-five seconds. Max."
Daejin leaned back with a smirk. "Bora, do us all a favor and stay off camera. I don't want the viewers collapsing from heart attacks the second they see you."
Bora gasped, clutching her chest like he'd just stabbed her pride. "Excuse me? My face is a national treasure. People would be blessed to see me on their screens." She tossed her hair with exaggerated flair. "If anything, ratings would skyrocket. Heart attacks? Please. They'd faint from pure admiration."
Daejin rolled his eyes, muttering just loud enough for Taehyun to hear, "Same thing."
The van eased to a stop on a quiet, upscale corner of Kyoto. A sleek metallic building rose ahead, its modern glass panels shimmering under the streetlights, blending with the elegance of the older wooden shopfronts nearby. Soft golden signage glowed above the entrance — Kumonō Atelier — a name that whispered exclusivity without trying.
The crew stepped out, taking in the sight.
"…Is this where we buy dresses, or where secret agents pick up gadgets?" Bora asked, eyes wide in awe.
Daejin glanced up at the facade. "Looks like a building that scans your wallet before you even enter."
"They design for foreign embassies, celebrity galas, and yes…occasional undercover work," Taehyun said with a confident smile. "You'll find something."
"I want a dress that screams 'I'm expensive but unattainable,'" Bora announced to Hanna, her eyes sparkling.
The automatic glass doors slid open, revealing an interior glowing with warm light. Racks of shimmering gowns and tailored tuxedos stretched across the polished floor. Velvet drapes framed full-length mirrors, and mannequins stood poised in sleek silks, layered chiffons, and intricate beadwork.
Bora gasped, clutching her chest. "This… this is heaven. Is this what falling in love feels like?"
"I thought you already fell in love," Daejin muttered. "With five different men in the hotel."
"Daejin. Focus," she shot back. "We're here for fashion, not my thriving emotional life."
A stylish attendant approached, bowing politely. "Please, feel free to browse. If you need fitting assistance, we have private rooms available."
Taehyun's smirk returned. "Choose wisely. This gala isn't just a party. It's a battlefield… of glamour."
"Say less," Bora replied, flipping her hair. "Now, where's the dress that screams 'future CEO's wife'?"
"Maybe check the delusion aisle," Daejin murmured under his breath.
Bora stuck her tongue out before darting toward a sleek pink gown with layers of soft tulle. "This one. This one is so me." Her gaze flicked across the room. "Seri would probably go for something black and dangerous-looking, though." She paused. "Wait… where is Seri?"
Junho, who had been quietly listening when Bora mentioned Seri's absence, let his gaze drift toward the staircase. Maybe she was upstairs. Without a word, he moved, slipping away with the silence of a man who didn't want to be noticed. His steps were deliberate, light, like a thief gliding through shadows of chiffon and silk.
He slid behind a row of tuxedos, their dark fabrics concealing him as he made his way toward the stairs.
"Uh… where's CEO Kang going?" Daejin asked, his brows knitting.
Taehyun's gaze followed Junho, one brow arching in mild amusement. "That's what I'd like to know."
He watched until Junho disappeared from view, something flickering in his expression — a hint of curiosity, a sliver of protectiveness, maybe something deeper.
"Hey, Mr. Good-in-Sword-Moves." Hanna's voice broke the moment as she turned toward him, holding up two shimmering dresses. Her grin was playful. "White or gold? Which one says 'don't mess with me' while also screaming 'I look expensive'?"
Taehyun tore his eyes from the stairs, his lips curving slowly. "I was just wondering… how does a girl like you manage to look perfect in every color?"
Hanna blinked at the unexpected compliment, then smirked, masking her reaction. "Seriously? This is why they call you the perfect charming man with honey-dipped words."
Bora caught sight of Taehyun drifting past and pounced. "Alright, you. Feather or glitter?" She held up two gowns that looked like they had been pulled straight from a costume drama with an unlimited budget. "Both scream luxury, but I need to know which one says 'I own the room.'"
Taehyun studied them for a beat, the corners of his mouth curving in that easy, composed way of his. "Well, Miss Bora… maybe you should pick something a little more… minimized."
Bora gasped like he'd just insulted haute couture itself. "Minimized? These are statements."
"Exactly," Taehyun said smoothly, already turning away. "And sometimes, a whisper is more dangerous than a shout."
Bora's mouth dropped open in mock horror. "A whisper? At a gala? Taehyun, this is not a library…it's war in sequins."
Hanna, still flipping through a rack of sleek silk dresses, smirked without looking up. "If it's war, Bora, maybe avoid looking like you're leading a parade float."
Bora clutched the glitter gown to her chest. "Excuse you, this is elegance and intimidation in fabric form."
Taehyun glanced over his shoulder, his smirk deepening. "Sure. If the intimidation comes from blinding your opponent."
Bora narrowed her eyes at him, then dramatically spun toward the mirror. "Mark my words, you'll all eat your words tomorrow night… preferably while staring at me."
Dim light spilled through the draped silks and glossy displays, the air hushed as if the space itself demanded reverence. Junho moved between rows of gowns and mannequins, his steps soft, his eyes searching.
And then he saw her.
Seri stood before a mannequin dressed in a deep starry-sky blue gown, the kind that caught the faintest light and turned it into something celestial. Silver embroidery scattered across the fabric like constellations, each thread glinting softly in the dim. The neckline was elegant, the skirt flowing in gentle waves, as if carrying the stillness of midnight.
She hadn't noticed him yet. Her hand rested lightly on the hem, fingers brushing the fabric as though it held a memory only she could recall.
Junho took a quiet step closer, eyes fixed on her. She'd look beautiful in that. The thought lingered in his mind, louder than he intended.
"I must've wandered into heaven… to see something like that standing in front of me," he said softly.
Seri turned slightly, her gaze flicking to him before settling back on the gown. "This dress was never meant for someone like me," she murmured. "Too much shadow behind me… It'd be a shame to let something this beautiful get tainted."
His eyes softened. He closed the distance by another step but didn't speak right away, just watched her, something tightening in his chest. "You don't wear that to look beautiful… you already are," he said quietly. "It's the gown that needs you just to be noticed."
But the words didn't feel like enough. Dissatisfaction tugged at him. Why was she always underestimating herself, speaking as if her worth could be dimmed by shadows she carried? It stirred something sharp inside him, frustration tangled with the urge to make her see what he saw.
"You talk like you're nothing but danger," he said, his voice low but carrying a raw edge that made the air between them feel heavier. "Like everything you touch ends in blood. But you're blind to the truth, you've saved more lives than you'll ever admit. You've saved mine… more times than I can count. And I don't care how much shadow you think follows you…none of it has ever dimmed the way I see you."
Seri's breath caught, her lips parting just slightly, but no words came. She stood there, silent, her heartbeat loud in her ears. His words pressed into her like they had weight, like they could anchor her or break her if she let them in.
She broke the air between them. "Stop taking this so seriously. It's just a dress. You should focus on what matters more, rather than think about this."
Turning away, she hid the flicker of emotion in her face by letting her gaze fall back to another gown, her eyes fixed on it as if it could shield her from everything she didn't want him to see.