[Kei]
A few weeks passed.
Which sounded longer than it felt.
Mostly because neither of them had time to notice.
Kei was busy.
Painfully busy.
Concerts.
Interviews.
Dance practices.
More dance practices.
Apparently the entertainment industry had collectively decided sleep was optional.
Meanwhile, No-Ah was working nearly every day at the café.
Which meant their conversations had become...
Minimal.
alive?
Unfortunately.
good.
good.
A truly inspiring friendship.
Kei blamed her.
Mostly because blaming himself was less fun.
At the moment, however, he had bigger problems.
Specifically:
Dance practice.
The rehearsal room was hot.
Everyone was exhausted.
Including him.
Especially him.
Several backup dancers were sprawled across the floor during the break.
One was drinking water like he'd just crossed a desert.
Another was openly questioning his career choices.
Kei understood the feeling.
"Again."
The choreographer clapped.
Nobody looked happy about it.
They started from the top.
Music blasted through the speakers.
The choreography began.
Everything was normal.
Until it wasn't.
One step.
One turn.
One bad landing.
Pain exploded through his ankle.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Wrong.
Kei's foot twisted.
The next second he was on the floor.
The music stopped.
Silence.
For one second.
Then—
"Kei!"
Fantastic.
Exactly what he needed.
Attention.
His favorite thing.
Kei immediately tried standing.
Immediately regretted it.
Pain shot up his leg.
The room somehow became even quieter.
"..."
"..."
The choreographer grimaced.
"Don't move."
"I'm fine."
"You are literally on the floor."
"Temporary setback."
"That's not reassuring."
☆ ☆ ☆
The hospital was annoying.
The doctors were annoying.
The crutches were annoying.
Everything was annoying.
The injury wasn't serious.
Just serious enough.
No dancing.
No rehearsals.
Limited movement.
Several weeks of recovery.
Kei hated every word.
Mrs. Yoon hated them more.
Which was saying something.
For the next few days, everybody treated him like he was fragile.
The choreographer called twice a day.
His backup dancers kept sending messages.
Staff members offered to help.
His manager offered to help.
Mrs. Yoon practically threatened to chain him to a chair.
Kei wanted freedom.
Unfortunately, freedom required functioning ankles.
Several days later, he was discharged.
Which should have improved things.
It did not.
Because he returned home.
Alone.
And discovered a horrifying truth.
Living by yourself while injured was terrible.
Everything required movement.
Everything was far away.
The remote was across the room.
His charger was across the room.
His water bottle was across the room.
Why was everything across the room?
At one point he dropped his phone.
Stared at it.
And genuinely considered leaving it there forever.
Twenty minutes later—
His phone buzzed.
A notification.
No-Ah.
Kei stared at her contact.
Then frowned.
Because there were plenty of people he could call.
His manager.
Staff.
Mrs. Yoon.
Literally anyone.
Yet somehow—
His thumb pressed the call button.
"..."
This was a mistake.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
"Hello?"
No-Ah sounded confused.
Reasonable.
Kei almost never called.
"Hi."
A pause.
"Why are you calling?"
Straight to the point.
As always.
"Can you come over?"
Silence.
Long silence.
"...What?"
"Can you come over?"
"Are you dying?"
"No."
"Then why are you calling?"
Kei leaned back against the couch.
Already regretting this.
"Because I need help."
The silence that followed was alarming.
Mostly because No-Ah never became silent.
"What happened?"
"Nothing."
"Kei."
"Something happened."
"KEI."
"..."
"I injured my ankle."
Another pause.
Then—
"You WHAT?"
"Technically I already did it several days ago."
The silence somehow got worse.
"You injured your ankle."
"Yes."
"You were in the hospital."
"Yes."
"You got discharged."
"Yes."
"And you're telling me now?"
"..."
"Kei."
"I was busy."
"You were in the hospital."
"I was very busy."
No-Ah made a sound that suggested violence.
Kei decided not to comment on it.
"Send me your address."
"You already have it."
"Right."
A beat.
Then—
"I'm coming."
The call ended.
Kei stared at his phone.
Then at the ceiling.
Then back at the phone.
For some reason, he felt slightly better.
Which was irritating.
☆ ☆ ☆
[No-Ah]
The café was packed.
Again.
Apparently people enjoyed coffee.
Who knew.
No-Ah slipped her phone into her pocket.
Still annoyed.
Deeply annoyed.
Professionally annoyed.
The kind of annoyed that required immediate travel.
She approached the manager.
"I need to leave early."
The manager blinked.
"You?"
"Yes."
"Everything okay?"
"Urgent matter."
The manager stared.
Mostly because No-Ah never left early.
Ever.
"All right."
"Thank you."
As she untied her apron—
"Urgent matter?"
No-Ah froze.
Wonderful.
Run-Seo.
Of course.
Run-Seo leaned against the counter.
Watching.
Suspicious.
Judgmental.
Generally existing.
No-Ah disliked all three.
"Yes."
Run-Seo tilted her head.
"Family emergency?"
"No."
"Friend?"
"Maybe."
Run-Seo narrowed her eyes.
No-Ah immediately regretted answering.
"You don't sound sure."
"I am."
"You said maybe."
"I changed my mind."
"That's not how certainty works."
No-Ah grabbed her bag.
"Goodbye, Run-Seo."
"Who called?"
"Someone."
"Helpful."
"You're welcome."
Run-Seo clicked her tongue.
Clearly unimpressed.
No-Ah considered leaving through the window.
It seemed easier.
Unfortunately.
Run-Seo wasn't finished.
"You seem close."
No-Ah paused.
Only for a second.
Barely noticeable.
Unfortunately—
Run-Seo noticed everything.
The older woman smiled.
A small smile.
The dangerous kind.
"Ah."
No-Ah narrowed her eyes.
"What?"
"Nothing."
That was a lie.
An obvious lie.
Possibly the most suspicious lie ever spoken.
"Run-Seo."
"Yes?"
"What are you thinking?"
"Nothing."
Another lie.
Even worse than the first one.
No-Ah sighed.
Already tired.
"It's not whatever you're imagining."
Run-Seo's smile widened.
"I didn't imagine anything."
"You literally are."
"I literally am not."
"You literally are."
Run-Seo shrugged.
Far too innocently.
"I hope your urgent matter goes well."
"No, you don't."
"You're right."
At least she was honest.
No-Ah grabbed her bag.
Turned.
And headed for the door.
Behind her, Run-Seo watched thoughtfully.
Waiting until she disappeared outside.
Then—
"Hm."
Something was definitely going on.
And Run-Seo fully intended to find out what it was.
☆ ☆ ☆
[No-Ah]
The elevator ride felt unnecessarily long.
Mostly because she was annoyed.
Still.
Very annoyed.
Hospital.
Hospital.
The idiot had been in the hospital.
And somehow decided that information wasn't worth sharing.
No-Ah stared at her reflection in the elevator doors.
Then sighed.
Maybe he genuinely hadn't thought it was important.
Which somehow made it worse.
The elevator dinged.
The doors opened.
No-Ah stepped out.
A few moments later, she found the correct apartment.
Then knocked.
Nothing.
She waited.
Still nothing.
No-Ah frowned.
Then knocked again.
Louder.
A crash sounded from inside.
Followed by:
"...I'm coming."
A pause.
Another crash.
"Just...wait."
No-Ah closed her eyes.
Of course.
Several painful-sounding seconds later, the door finally opened.
Kei stood there.
Looking terrible.
Not sick.
Just...
Terrible.
His hair was a mess.
His shirt was wrinkled.
There were dark circles under his eyes.
And he was balancing awkwardly on crutches.
No-Ah stared.
"...Wow."
Kei frowned.
"What?"
"You look like you've been abandoned by society."
"I've had a difficult week."
"I can tell."
She stepped inside.
Then immediately stopped.
Silence.
Slowly—
Very slowly—
She looked around.
The living room was a disaster.
Empty water bottles.
Takeout containers.
Random clothes.
A blanket on the couch.
Several unopened packages sitting near the door.
The entire apartment looked like it had lost a fight.
No-Ah turned toward him.
"Uh..."
"..."
"What?"
"Were you raised by wolves?"
Kei looked offended.
"I was injured."
"This is a crime scene."
"It is not."
"There are three cups on the floor."
"I know where they are."
"That isn't helping your argument."
Kei glanced at the cups.
Then at her.
Then back at the cups.
"...Fair."
No-Ah dropped her bag onto a chair.
A chair that thankfully appeared clean.
Probably by accident.
"Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
"What did you eat?"
A pause.
Too long.
No-Ah narrowed her eyes.
"Noodles."
"What kind?"
"...Instant."
"Today?"
"Yes."
"Yesterday?"
"..."
"Are you kidding me? "
"They're efficient."
No-Ah stared at him.
Then looked toward the kitchen.
Then back at him.
Then toward the kitchen again.
Like she was debating whether murder was legal under certain circumstances.
Kei wisely stayed quiet.
"You called me because you needed help."
"Correct."
"With what?"
Kei opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
His expression suggested he was only now realizing he had never actually planned that far ahead.
No-Ah folded her arms.
Waiting.
Eventually—
"I dropped the TV remote."
Silence.
"..."
"..."
"You called me."
"Yes."
"To help you pick up a remote."
"It was very far away."
No-Ah stared at him.
Then looked down.
The remote was lying on the floor.
Approximately two meters from the couch.
She looked back up.
Kei looked completely serious.
Which somehow made it worse.
"You are unbelievable."
"It wasn't just the remote."
"Oh?"
"The charger too."
No-Ah rubbed her forehead.
"Anything else?"
A pause.
Then—
"I may have run out of groceries."
"Of course you did."
"And clean dishes."
"Naturally."
"And painkillers."
"Kei."
"And toilet paper."
No-Ah slowly lowered her hand.
For one brief moment, she considered turning around and leaving.
Not because she wanted to.
Because she wanted him to suffer.
Just a little.
As a learning experience.
Unfortunately—
The idiot looked genuinely exhausted.
And annoyingly helpless.
Which made it difficult to stay angry.
Very difficult.
No-Ah sighed.
A long suffering sigh.
Then pointed at the couch.
"Sit."
Kei blinked.
"What?"
"Sit."
"I am already standing."
"Barely."
"..."
"Go."
For some reason—
He listened.
Kei limped toward the couch.
Lowering himself down carefully.
Still looking mildly confused.
No-Ah watched him.
Then headed toward the kitchen.
Immediately regretted it.
The fridge was nearly empty.
There was half a bottle of water.
A lemon.
And something in a container that might once have been food.
"No."
She shut the fridge.
Firmly.
Behind her, Kei looked up.
"What?"
"We're fixing this."
His expression immediately became suspicious.
"We?"
"Yes."
"No."
"No?"
"No."
"No-Ah."
"What?"
"You don't have to do that."
The words came out strangely.
Too quick.
Too quiet.
No-Ah paused.
Turning around.
For a second, Kei wouldn't meet her eyes.
Instead focusing on a spot somewhere near the floor.
"I can figure it out."
A lie.
An obvious lie.
One glance at the apartment proved that.
No-Ah looked at him.
Really looked at him.
The dark circles.
The crutches.
The exhaustion.
The fact that he'd waited almost a week before asking for help.
And somehow—
That annoyed her more than the mess.
"You called me."
Kei looked up.
"You literally called me."
"..."
"You don't get to call me for help and then act surprised when I help."
Silence.
For once.
Kei had absolutely nothing to say.
Which was rare.
Extremely rare.
Eventually he looked away.
"...Fine."
No-Ah nodded.
"Good."
Then she rolled up her sleeves.
Because apparently she lived here now.
☆ ☆ ☆