[Yun-Ra]
Yun-Ra stayed at the corner long after Kei and No-Ah disappeared from view.
The street had gone quiet again.
Only the faint hum of traffic somewhere farther away remained, blending into the cold night air.
She should leave.
Instead, her feet stayed rooted to the pavement.
Her mind replayed the scene over and over unwillingly.
No-Ah sitting across from Kei. No-Ah walking beside him. No-Ah wearing his coat.
Natural.
Comfortable.
Close.
Yun-Ra swallowed hard.
"…Since when?"
The words came out small.
Almost embarrassed.
Because she didn't understand how this had happened without her noticing.
She was No-Ah's best friend.
Wasn't she?
Then why did tonight feel like watching a stranger's life through glass?
Yun-Ra wrapped her arms tighter around herself and finally turned away from the empty street.
The walk home suddenly felt colder than before.
Each step echoed too loudly against the wet pavement.
Her chest hurt in a way she couldn't organize properly.
Jealousy was part of it.
She knew that much.
Seeing Kei beside No-Ah had twisted something sharp inside her ribs.
But underneath that—
something worse lingered.
Hurt.
Because No-Ah hadn't told her.
Not once.
Not even a hint.
And this wasn't small enough to forget mentioning.
Not when Yun-Ra had spent nights listening to No-Ah sit silently in her room. Not when she knew how distant No-Ah kept herself from people. Not when she knew how careful she always was.
The "helping a person clean their wounds"... She thought it was just a small coincidence.
A coincidence that involved Kei.
Yet somehow Kei had slipped past all those walls No-Ah built without Yun-Ra even realizing.
The thought stung more than she expected.
Yun-Ra blinked hard suddenly.
Her vision blurred.
At first she thought it was leftover rainwater from the wind.
Then another tear slid down her cheek.
Yun-Ra stopped walking immediately.
"…Seriously?"
Her voice cracked slightly.
Annoyed now.
At herself more than anything.
She wiped quickly at her face with the sleeve of her hoodie and kept walking faster.
But the tears kept coming anyway.
Quiet.
Frustrating.
Humiliating.
The city lights smeared softly across her vision as she walked.
She hated this feeling.
Hated how stupidly emotional it made her feel.
Because what exactly was she even upset about?
That Kei liked No-Ah?
That No-Ah liked Kei?
That they looked good together?
Or—
Was it simply the realization that something important had been happening right beside her…
and No-Ah never trusted her enough to tell her?
That thought hurt the most.
Yun-Ra pressed her lips together tightly.
The cold night air burned in her lungs now.
She remembered every ignored message sitting unread on No-Ah's phone.
Every unanswered call.
Meanwhile No-Ah had been here.
Laughing softly at Kei's comments. Walking beside him like it came naturally.
Yun-Ra's chest tightened painfully again.
"…You could've told me," she whispered.
Not angry.
Just hurt.
That somehow made it worse.
Another tear slipped free before she could stop it.
Yun-Ra wiped it away harshly this time.
She didn't cry easily.
Especially not over people.
But tonight felt different.
Like something had shifted quietly while her back was turned.
And now she was standing outside of it.
Alone.
By the time her apartment building finally came into view, Yun-Ra's eyes were burning from holding herself together.
She slowed near the entrance, breathing unevenly now.
Her phone buzzed suddenly in her pocket.
Yun-Ra froze.
Then pulled it out too quickly.
Her chest tightened hopefully for half a second.
No-Ah.
Finally.
But the message was simple.
Sorry. Just saw your messages. I'll help with the project tomorrow.
Yun-Ra stared at the screen silently.
That was it.
Nothing else.
No explanation. No mention of Kei. No mention of tonight.
Like it had never happened at all.
Something inside Yun-Ra cracked quietly.
A soft broken laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
Then another tear slid down her face.
"…Right," she whispered.
The screen blurred again as she lowered the phone slowly.
And for the first time in a long time—
Yun-Ra felt like she was the one being left behind.
☆ ☆ ☆
[No-Ah]
The streets were quieter now.
Rainwater still clung to the pavement in thin silver streaks beneath the streetlights, reflecting blurred colors every time a car passed.
No-Ah walked beside Kei in silence.
Not awkward silence.
That was the problem.
It should've felt awkward.
Instead, their footsteps kept falling into the same rhythm naturally, like this was something they had done too many times already.
Kei had his hands shoved into his pockets now, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold.
Drunk.
Still functional somehow.
Barely.
No-Ah glanced sideways at him briefly.
His expression looked calmer than before.
Less sharp around the edges.
The tightness she'd noticed outside the convenience store had loosened slightly after ramen.
That should've been a good thing.
So why did it make her chest feel strange?
No-Ah looked forward again immediately.
Dangerous thought.
Beside her, Kei suddenly spoke.
"...You keep checking if I'm alive."
"I keep checking if you're about to walk into traffic."
"That's basically the same thing emotionally."
"No."
Kei smiled faintly to himself.
No-Ah noticed.
Annoyingly.
A cold gust of wind swept down the street.
Kei looked entirely unaffected by it.
Probably because the alcohol had destroyed his sense of temperature along with his judgment.
No-Ah tightened his coat slightly around herself.
Another dangerous observation.
It smelled faintly like rain and whatever soap he used.
Normal detail.
Irrelevant detail.
Why was she noticing that?
No-Ah frowned slightly at herself.
Then Kei spoke again.
"...You're thinking aggressively."
Her eyes narrowed immediately.
"That's not a thing."
"It absolutely is."
"You say strange things when you're drunk."
"You notice my strange things a lot."
No-Ah ignored that.
Mostly because there wasn't a safe response.
The neighborhood streets grew quieter the farther they walked.
Apartment buildings replaced stores. Dim hallway lights. Balconies with laundry left outside too long.
Home territory.
No-Ah should've left already.
Instead, she kept matching Kei's pace unconsciously.
Annoying.
A car turned the corner ahead too quickly.
Headlights swept across the street suddenly.
Kei barely reacted while stepping off the curb.
No-Ah grabbed the sleeve of his shirt immediately and yanked him back toward the sidewalk.
The car passed.
Kei blinked slowly.
"...That seems dramatic."
No-Ah stared at him in disbelief.
"You almost got hit."
"I was aware of the car spiritually."
"You are unbelievable."
Kei looked down at where her hand still gripped his sleeve.
No-Ah noticed a second too late.
She let go immediately.
A brief silence settled between them.
Then Kei laughed softly under his breath.
Not mocking.
Just tired.
"You really think I'm going to die every time you stop looking at me for five seconds."
"You have the survival instincts of wet cardboard."
"That's harsh."
"It's accurate."
Kei smiled again.
That faint, quiet smile that kept appearing tonight without warning.
No-Ah looked away first.
Dangerous.
Very dangerous.
After a moment, she spoke flatly:
"...Give me your phone."
Kei blinked once.
"What?"
"Your phone."
His expression shifted immediately into something suspiciously entertained.
"...Wow."
No-Ah already regretted this.
"Not for weird reasons."
"That somehow made it sound weirder."
No-Ah held out her hand impatiently.
"You almost got hit by a car."
"It missed me."
"Barely."
Kei studied her for another second before finally pulling his phone from his pocket.
His movements were slower now from exhaustion and alcohol.
No-Ah took the phone from him before he could drop it.
The screen lit up.
No password.
Psychotic behavior.
No-Ah opened the contacts quickly.
Kei leaned slightly closer beside her.
"So this is how it happens."
She ignored him.
"What am I saved as?" he asked.
"You don't get opinions right now."
"I feel oppressed."
No-Ah typed her number in anyway.
Then paused briefly at the name section.
A dangerous amount of awareness settled into her chest suddenly.
Because adding someone into your phone felt strangely permanent.
Small thing.
Too personal somehow.
Ridiculous thought.
No-Ah typed anyway:
No-Ah.
Simple. Clean. Safe.
She handed the phone back.
"There."
Kei looked down at the screen.
Then up at her.
"...You gave me your number so I don't get hit by a car?"
"Yes."
There was a pause.
Then:
"That's kind of affectionate."
"It absolutely isn't."
"You literally grabbed me to save my life thirty seconds ago."
"You were causing problems for society."
Kei laughed softly again.
No-Ah hated how easily she recognized the sound already.
He tapped at his phone for a second before hers vibrated in her pocket.
No-Ah pulled it out automatically.
A new contact.
Kei.
And underneath it:
Survived the car incident btw
No-Ah stared at the message.
Then slowly looked sideways at him.
"...You text fast."
"I adapt quickly in emergencies."
"You're not funny."
A beat.
Then quieter:
"...A little bit."
Kei looked genuinely surprised for half a second.
No-Ah immediately regretted saying it.
Too late.
That faint smile appeared again.
Worse this time somehow.
The apartment buildings ahead came into view now.
Close enough that the walk would end soon.
For some reason, the realization sat strangely heavy in No-Ah's chest.
Beside her, Kei looked ahead quietly.
Then after a moment:
"...Thanks."
No-Ah glanced at him.
"For what?"
"The ramen. The number. Preventing vehicular manslaughter."
No-Ah exhaled softly through her nose.
"...You make helping you feel exhausting."
"And yet you keep doing it."
The words landed more gently than they should have.
No-Ah looked forward again quickly.
The night suddenly felt warmer.
☆ ☆ ☆