The past didn't announce itself. It rarely did. Juni's phone vibrated during third period.
Once. Then again.
He ignored it at first—heart rate spiking despite himself. When the screen lit up a third time, he glanced down.
Uncle.
His fingers went cold. He didn't open the message. He didn't need to. The familiar tension coiled in his chest, tight and immediate.
Elian noticed the shift instantly. Juni's foot bounced under the desk. His breathing went shallow. Elian leaned over, voice barely audible.
"You okay?"
Juni nodded too quickly. "Yeah."
A lie they both recognized. Elian didn't challenge it. He slid his notebook across the desk, tapping the corner where Juni had once scribbled his number—back when they were just classmates.
If you need to leave, go. Juni stared at the words. Then nodded.
They left class quietly, slipping into the hallway without drawing attention. Juni's hands shook as he pulled his phone out again. One message this time.
Where are you?
No accusation. No context.
That was worse.
Juni swallowed. "…I think he's checking," he whispered.
Elian didn't rush him. "Do you want to go somewhere safe?" he asked.
Juni nodded. "…Your house."
They didn't run.
They walked—steady, deliberate—like everything was normal. Juni kept his head down, counting steps, grounding himself in the rhythm of movement. When they reached the house, Evelyn was already in the kitchen. She took one look at Juni's face and understood.
"No questions right now," she said gently. "Come sit."
Juni obeyed, collapsing onto the couch as if his bones had finally remembered how to rest.
Evelyn handed him a glass of water. "Do you want to tell me what happened," she asked, "or would you rather just sit?"
Juni drank half the glass in one go. "…He messaged me," he said. "I didn't answer."
Evelyn nodded. "That was your choice." The simple validation steadied him.
Another vibration. Juni flinched.
Evelyn spoke calmly. "You're here. You're safe. Nothing needs to be decided today."
Juni nodded, eyes squeezed shut. Elian sat beside him—close enough to feel solid, not crowding.
"…I thought I was ready," Juni murmured.
Evelyn's voice was gentle. "You were ready to take a step," she said. "That doesn't mean the road won't push back."
The phone stopped buzzing eventually. Silence returned—uneasy, but real.
Juni opened his eyes. "…I didn't answer," he said again, like he needed to hear it out loud.
Elian smiled softly. "You held your boundary."
Juni breathed out. "…I think that's new."
Later, as the afternoon light shifted, Juni stood by the window, watching clouds drift.
"…He doesn't control where I am," he said quietly.
Evelyn nodded. "No," she agreed. "He doesn't."
The past had reached for him. And for the first time—It hadn't pulled him back.