[Kei]
Kei woke up with a cramp in his neck.
Which was unfortunate.
Mostly because he immediately remembered why.
The practice room.
Again.
Wonderful.
He stared at the ceiling for a long moment.
Questioning every decision that had led him here.
Then sat up.
Immediately regretted that too.
His back cracked.
His neck protested.
His dignity remained missing.
The mirror reflected a man who looked like he'd been personally insulted by sleep.
And lost.
"...Great."
A knock came from the door.
His manager stepped inside.
Took one look at him.
Then sighed.
A deep.
Ancient.
Disappointed sigh.
"You slept here."
Kei considered lying.
Then remembered the blanket.
The pillow.
And the fact that he was literally sitting on the floor.
"...Maybe."
"You slept here."
"Allegedly."
His manager stared.
Kei stared back.
A battle of wills.
One he immediately lost.
"Yes."
"Mrs Yoon told you to sleep."
"And I did."
"You slept in a practice room."
"I still slept."
His manager pointed at him.
"That's not what she meant."
☆ ☆ ☆
Three hours later—
Kei found himself standing inside a pharmacy.
Looking at an entire shelf dedicated to sleep.
The shelf looked back.
Judgmentally.
He stared.
The shelf stared.
Neither side blinked.
Eventually, he grabbed melatonin.
Then another brand of melatonin.
Then an eye mask.
Then herbal tea.
Then something claiming to help "promote healthy sleep habits."
At this point he was basically assembling a starter kit for unconsciousness.
The pharmacist looked at his basket.
Then at him.
Then at the basket again.
"Tough week?"
"...Something like that."
The pharmacist nodded.
The nod of someone who had seen things.
Terrible things.
Like exam season.
And corporate employees.
☆ ☆ ☆
That night—
Kei showered.
Made tea.
Took the melatonin.
Put on the eye mask.
Turned off the lights.
Lay down.
And waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
Nothing.
His eyes opened.
The darkness stared back.
Rude.
Very rude.
He rolled onto his side.
Then onto his back.
Then onto his other side.
Then back again.
The bed suddenly felt hostile.
Like it had developed personal opinions.
And those opinions were negative.
Kei sighed.
Pulled the eye mask up.
Reached for his phone.
Immediately saw the conversation.
No-Ah.
Still there.
Still unchanged.
Still irritating.
He stared at the message he'd sent.
Busy?
Just one word.
Just one perfectly normal word.
Just one word that had somehow become the center of his suffering.
No reply.
Mrs Yoon's voice appeared uninvited.
"She didn't ask about your at all. "
Kei groaned.
Out loud.
To an empty room.
"Thank you, Mrs Yoon."
The room offered no support.
Typical.
☆ ☆ ☆
Across the city—
No-Ah was also staring at her phone.
Which was becoming a problem.
Because she had already opened the message approximately twenty-seven times.
Not that she was counting.
She was absolutely counting.
The reply box remained empty.
Because every response somehow sounded wrong.
No
Too cold.
Yes
Too short.
Why are you asking?
Too obvious.
A little
Too honest.
It was totally ridiculous.
It was one word.
One question.
A completely harmless question.
Why was this difficult?
No-Ah buried her face in a pillow.
Immediately.
The pillow provided no answers.
Only fabric.
☆ ☆ ☆
Back in his apartment—
Kei was still awake.
Which felt unfair.
The melatonin had promised things.
None of those things were happening.
His phone rested beside him.
Silent.
Mocking him.
Eventually—
Exhaustion won.
Not sleep.
Exhaustion.
His eyes drifted shut.
The phone slipped slightly from his hand.
And for the first time in days—
Kei actually fell asleep.
---
Thirty-seven minutes later.
No-Ah finally sat up.
Grabbed her phone.
And typed.
She stared at the message.
Deleted it.
Typed again.
Deleted that one too.
Then—
Before she could change her mind—
She hit send.
Not really. Why?
Silence.
She waited.
One minute.
Two.
Three.
Nothing.
No typing bubble.
No reply.
No response at all.
No-Ah frowned.
Looked at the screen.
Then at the time.
Then back at the screen.
"..."
On the other side of the city—
Kei slept through the notification completely.
Phone resting beside him.
Screen glowing briefly in the darkness.
A single unread message waiting patiently.
And for the first time—
The person waiting was No-Ah.
☆ ☆ ☆