The house feels… normal again.
Too normal.
Like nothing happened.
Like no one fell off a rooftop.Like no one woke up in a hospital.
The front door clicks shut behind us.
Mrs. Lee walks ahead without looking back.
"Careful," she says sharply, even though I'm already standing still.
"…I am," I mutter.
I'm not.
But saying it feels easier.
From the living room—
Ji-Ah looks up first.
Her eyes scan me quickly.
Checking.
Measuring.
"…you're back," she says.
Flat.
But there's something under it.
Relief. Just… hidden badly.
Beside her, Hyun-Woo leans against the wall.
"Didn't die. Impressive."
"…thanks," I reply dryly.
Same tone.
Same rhythm.
But it doesn't bite the same way anymore.
Not after everything.
From the side—
Mrs. Sun-Hea steps forward.
"Welcome back," she says softly.
Like always.
Steady. Warm.
Like nothing breaks around her.
I nod slightly.
"…thank you."
Mrs. Lee doesn't stop walking.
"Room," she says.
Not asking.
So I follow.
Slow.
Because my back still aches.
Because everything still feels a little off.
She keeps talking as we walk.
"You are never careful," she continues. "Always distracted. Always somewhere else. Do you know how serious that was? Falling like that—"
"…I know," I say quietly.
She exhales sharply.
Like that's not enough.
It never is.
We reach my door.
She pauses.
Just stands there for a second.
Then sighs.
Not angry this time.
Just… tired.
"Take care," she says.
Softer.
And then she leaves.
Just like that.
I stare at the door for a second longer.
Then—
I walk in.
And immediately—
bed.
My one true love.
"…finally," I mumble.
I don't even bother sitting.
I just drop—
face first.
Straight down.
—
And land on something—
Warm.
Soft.
But… not right.
Not mattress-soft.
More like—
alive soft.
—
"—AH—!"
A sharp, pained yell explodes under me.
I jerk up instantly.
"WHAT—?!"
And there he is.
Niran
Flat on the bed.
Half under me.
Looking personally offended.
"You know what," I say immediately, still half sprawled, "stop popping out whenever you feel like it—"
My face is still basically in his chest.
I don't move.
I just talk.
"—this is not normal behavior."
He stares down at me.
Deadpan.
"Is this how you treat me after coming back from the hospital?"
I pause.
Then slowly lift my head.
"…what hospital?"
He blinks.
"You were there."
"I was unconscious."
"Still counts."
I roll off him with a groan and land beside him.
"…I fell."
"You did," he says.
"Someone pushed me."
He shrugs slightly.
"That's how it feels, doesn't it?"
I turn my head toward him.
"…that's not helpful."
"Neither is you falling off buildings," he replies.
I glare.
Weakly.
Because my back still hurts.
Because he's not wrong.
Silence settles for a second.
Then I ask—
quieter—
"…did you see what happened?"
He looks at the ceiling.
"Yes."
I wait.
He doesn't continue.
"…and?" I press.
He turns his head slightly.
"…I possessed you."
"That's not what I asked."
"That's what happened."
I stare at him.
Frustrated.
Because I don't fully remember.
Because I do remember falling.
Because I don't know who—
"Was it Seo-Yeon or Lalita?" I mutter.
He shrugs again.
"Right now?"
A pause.
"…I feel the same as you."
That lands heavier than expected.
Lost.
Uncertain.
Annoying.
I exhale.
"…great."
He nudges my hand lightly.
"Hey."
I glance at him.
"…what."
"Don't think too hard."
"I always think too hard."
"Exactly."
I huff slightly.
Then suddenly—
"…where's Mr. Fluffington."
He immediately reaches behind him—
and pulls out the penguin plush.
Of course.
"Here."
I reach for it.
Relief ready.
Comfort incoming.
And then—
he pulls it back.
"…no."
I blink.
"…what."
"No no no no."
He sits up slightly.
Hugging the penguin away from me like it personally offended him.
"This," he gestures with it, "is the problem."
I stare at him.
"…what problem."
"You get this thing," he says, shaking the plush slightly, "and suddenly I don't exist."
"That's not true."
"You hug it more than you talk to me."
"It doesn't argue."
"I can fix that."
"Please don't."
He narrows his eyes.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You ignore me."
"I do not ignore you."
"You emotionally abandon me."
I stare.
"…you're a ghost."
"That's not the point."
"It is absolutely the point."
He crosses his arms.
Still holding Mr. Fluffington hostage.
"Pick."
I blink.
"…what."
"Me," he says, pointing at himself, "or the penguin."
I stare at him like he's insane.
"…I'm not choosing."
"Then you get nothing."
"Give it back."
"No."
"Give it back."
"No."
I sigh.
Deep.
Tired.
Then—
I lean closer.
Fast.
Before he can react—
I grab his face lightly—
and press a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.
Barely a second.
Gone immediately.
And in that exact moment—
I snatch the penguin from his hands.
Clean.
Efficient.
Perfect.
I fall back onto the bed.
Hugging Mr. Fluffington like victory.
"…thank you," I say calmly.
Silence.
I glance sideways.
Slowly.
Niran is frozen.
Completely.
Eyes slightly widened.
Expression glitched.
"…don't do that," he says finally.
Quiet.
I grin slightly into the plush.
"Too late."
He turns away.
"That's cheating."
"You started it."
"I did not."
"You kidnapped my penguin."
"For emotional reasons."
"Invalid."
He exhales sharply.
Still not looking at me.
"…don't do that again."
I hug the penguin tighter.
"…no promises."
Night settled in, quiet and soft.
We were walking side by side, ice cream in hand.
Mine—strawberry.
Lalita—chocolate, of course.
She was talking.
Not asking.
Talking.
About random things—someone she saw, a game she almost won, how the arcade machine was clearly rigged and she deserved a rematch.
I just listened.
"…you were cheating, by the way," she said.
"I wasn't."
"You were breathing like a try-hard."
"…That's normal breathing."
"Suspicious breathing."
I blinked.
"…I don't think that's a thing."
"It is now."
I looked down at my ice cream.
"…Okay."
—
She kept talking.
Walking a little ahead sometimes, then slowing so I'd catch up.
Like she wasn't trying to walk with me—
but still did.
I watched her for a second.
Then—
"…Do you think Niran really fell?"
She glanced at me.
Not surprised.
"From the building?" she asked.
I nodded.
"…Or was he pushed?"
She didn't answer immediately this time.
Just took a bite of her ice cream.
Thinking.
Then—
"It could be either."
I looked at her.
She shrugged.
"I wasn't there."
Then her voice dropped just a little.
"…But I do feel bad he died."
I watched her face.
There was something there.
Concern.
Pity.
Real enough to notice.
But not… heavy.
Not like it stayed with her.
I looked away.
"…Yeah."
—
We walked a bit more.
Then she suddenly looked at my hand.
The penguin plush.
Small. Soft. Slightly squished from how I was holding it.
She raised a brow.
"…You won that?"
"…Yeah."
"It's cute."
I paused.
Then held it out slightly.
"…Do you want it?"
She didn't even hesitate.
"No."
I blinked.
"…Oh."
She smirked.
"You need it more."
I looked at it again.
Then nodded slowly.
"…That's… not wrong."
"Exactly."
—
We reached her corner.
She stopped.
Turned to face me properly this time.
"I had fun," she said.
Simple.
Like it wasn't a big deal.
But still meant it.
I nodded.
"…Me too."
She glanced at the penguin again.
Then back at me.
"We should go out again."
I froze for a second.
Then nodded quickly.
"…Yeah. Okay."
She smiled.
Small.
Confident.
"Good."
Then she turned.
Started walking away.
No hesitation.
—
I stood there.
Watching.
Until she turned the corner and disappeared.
Only then did I move again.
I looked at my ice cream.
Half melted.
Then at the penguin.
I adjusted it in my hand, holding it a little tighter.
"…Good job," I muttered quietly.
Pause.
"…You survived."
I took a bite of the ice cream.
Cold.
Sweet.
Then looked ahead.
"…That was nice."
And for once—
I didn't argue with myself about it.
Night settled in, quiet and soft.
We were walking side by side, ice cream in hand.
Mine—strawberry.
Lalita—chocolate, of course.
She was talking.
Not asking.
Talking.
About random things—someone she saw, a game she almost won, how the arcade machine was clearly rigged and she deserved a rematch.
I just listened.
"…you were cheating, by the way," she said.
"I wasn't."
"You were breathing like a try-hard."
"…That's normal breathing."
"Suspicious breathing."
I blinked.
"…I don't think that's a thing."
"It is now."
I looked down at my ice cream.
"…Okay."
—
She kept talking.
Walking a little ahead sometimes, then slowing so I'd catch up.
Like she wasn't trying to walk with me—
but still did.
I watched her for a second.
Then—
"…Do you think Niran really fell?"
She glanced at me.
Not surprised.
"From the building?" she asked.
I nodded.
"…Or was he pushed?"
She didn't answer immediately this time.
Just took a bite of her ice cream.
Thinking.
Then—
"It could be either."
I looked at her.
She shrugged.
"I wasn't there."
Then her voice dropped just a little.
"…But I do feel bad he died."
I watched her face.
There was something there.
Concern.
Pity.
Real enough to notice.
But not… heavy.
Not like it stayed with her.
I looked away.
"…Yeah."
—
We walked a bit more.
Then she suddenly looked at my hand.
The penguin plush.
Small. Soft. Slightly squished from how I was holding it.
She raised a brow.
"…You won that?"
"…Yeah."
"It's cute."
I paused.
Then held it out slightly.
"…Do you want it?"
She didn't even hesitate.
"No."
I blinked.
"…Oh."
She smirked.
"You need it more."
I looked at it again.
Then nodded slowly.
"…That's… not wrong."
"Exactly."
—
We reached her corner.
She stopped.
Turned to face me properly this time.
"I had fun," she said.
Simple.
Like it wasn't a big deal.
But still meant it.
I nodded.
"…Me too."
She glanced at the penguin again.
Then back at me.
"We should go out again."
I froze for a second.
Then nodded quickly.
"…Yeah. Okay."
She smiled.
Small.
Confident.
"Good."
Then she turned.
Started walking away.
No hesitation.
—
I stood there.
Watching.
Until she turned the corner and disappeared.
Only then did I move again.
I looked at my ice cream.
Half melted.
Then at the penguin.
I adjusted it in my hand, holding it a little tighter.
"…Good job," I muttered quietly.
Pause.
"…You survived."
I took a bite of the ice cream.
Cold.
Sweet.
Then looked ahead.
"…That was nice."
And for once—
I didn't argue with myself about it.
The door had barely closed when—
"Well done."
I didn't even turn fully this time.
"…You're so predictable."
Niran pushed himself off the wall anyway, like he needed the entrance.
"I watched everything," he said.
I blinked.
"…That's creepy."
"I'm a ghost."
"That doesn't make it less creepy."
"It makes it legal."
"…That's worse."
—
He walked closer, eyes already narrowing like he was about to start something.
"…Why did you say my name?"
I frowned.
"…When?"
"With her."
Oh.
"…It just slipped."
"You don't 'slip' my name."
"I literally just did."
"That's different."
"How?"
"I was there."
"…You're always there."
"Exactly."
"…You're not helping."
—
His gaze dropped.
To the penguin.
He stared at it like it personally offended him.
"…She got you that?"
Before I could even answer—
I tossed it at him.
"Take it then."
It went straight through his chest—
and dropped to the floor.
He looked down at it.
Then at me.
Then back at it.
"…Wow."
"What?"
"You just threw your emotional support animal."
"I don't have one."
"You do now."
I rolled my eyes.
"I won it."
He paused.
Actually paused.
Then bent down—
picked it up.
Carefully.
Like it mattered now.
"…Oh."
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Then it's cute."
He stepped closer and handed it back to me.
I took it.
"…You're weird."
"You threw it first."
"You picked it up like it's alive."
"It could be."
"…Don't say that."
—
I put the penguin on the bed—properly this time.
Then started removing my jacket.
He was still standing there.
Watching.
Of course.
I reached for my hoodie—
then turned flatly.
"…Don't look at my back."
He immediately turned his head the other way.
"You're too sensitive."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"…You're lucky we don't go to the beach."
He scoffed.
"Please. I'd rate you publicly."
"That's not something to admit."
"It's honesty."
"That's harassment."
—
I changed quickly, pulling on another shirt.
"…Anyway," I muttered, "I'm getting closer to seo-yeon."
He didn't respond.
I glanced at him.
"…Did you feel anything?"
He shook his head.
"No."
A pause.
Then—
"…But I remember talking to her."
I nodded slowly.
"…So it's working."
—
Silence settled.
Soft this time.
Not awkward.
Just there.
I sat on the bed, picking up the penguin again without thinking.
"…It would be shocking if it was her."
He looked at me.
"…What?"
"…If she pushed you."
He held my gaze for a second.
Then looked away.
"…Yeah."
A small exhale.
"It would be."
I leaned back slightly.
"…You'd be really bad at picking people."
He glanced at me again.
"…Says the guy who almost gave away his penguin."
I clutched it a little tighter.
"…I changed my mind."
He smirked.
"Good."
A pause.
Then softer—
"…Keep it."
I blinked.
"…You literally insulted it."
"I insult everything."
"…True."
—
And just like that—
it was quiet again.
Not empty.
Just…
quiet.