Even after everything that had happened, the atmosphere felt peaceful for the first time in a long while.

As their eyes quietly met, the pale rim that outlined the iris and pupil—like a shark’s fin—became clearly visible. It wasn’t even the season for blossoms yet, but her stomach churned.

Do I need to start wearing lenses again? The ridiculous thought passed through her head when Lee Wooshin narrowed his eyes faintly and spoke first. His face looked pleased to see her, but his voice was low and discontent.

“My neck aches like hell. Don’t you have something to say for that?”

Ah... He must be talking about when she knocked him out.

“You said I should trust you.”

“That was...”

“I don’t like anesthesia. I prefer to stay awake and get stitched up, it’s easier on my nerves. You never know what’ll happen on an operating table. If a certain sneaky someone hadn’t sucker-chopped my neck like a coward, there wouldn’t have been any compromise.”

“......”

“What’s that face for?”

Wooshin raised a brow and hesitated. Seoryeong, wondering if her expression had stiffened without # Nоvеlight # her realizing it, got up without a word.

Avoiding his gaze, she lowered her eyes and began untangling her messy hair, tying it back again. As she gently swept her fingers through it and looped the hair tie twice, she spoke coolly.

“Yesterday, Instructor—you were asking for your sweetheart.”

“What?”

“Your wife.”

“......!”

“You were barking at me to send her a message for you.”

“...Wait.”

“But you never gave me her name or number, even then.”

“......”

“What—was she some kind of celebrity or something?”

His dumbstruck expression made it seem like she’d hit a nerve.

I mean, who hasn’t had a spouse they loved...? I had a husband too, you know. A man as handsome as a stone sculpture.

She rubbed at her worn-out face and marched straight toward the hospital room door.

She thought she’d feel better after a nap—but the moment she saw Wooshin again, it all spilled out, like liquid pressing against a defrosted pack.

I’m ugly. And she was pretty. Still... I bet I’d beat her in a fight. I’d win in arm wrestling, I’d win in hand-to-hand.

A wave of unexplainable shame swept over her. Seoryeong crumpled her face in disgust at herself—what was she doing, thinking like a jealous grade schooler?

It would’ve been better to go back to glaring daggers at him while rolling around in the mud.

“Wait—Agent Han Seoryeong, that’s a misunderstanding.”

A beat late, Wooshin tried to stop her. But his injured foot wasn’t cooperating. As the sound of his dragging steps echoed behind her, Seoryeong turned around with an irritated expression.

“Don’t walk.”

“Then don’t go far. That’s all I ask.”

“......”

She let out a hard breath, watching the visibly uneasy man in silence before she finally opened her mouth.

“You know... it was you who said we’d hate Kim Hyeon together, and do the rest... with me.”

“......!”

“Was that maybe... because, like me, you can’t forget someone from your past? Because you still want to carry your wife with you? Was it guilt that made you say all that? Pretending to be generous—saying it’s fine?”

“What?”

“If you think that’s fair... I’m not doing it.”

A deep crease formed between her brows as she added:

“Doesn’t it feel like the four of us are living together?”

The words slipped out, and her mood instantly tanked.

No, this wasn’t working.

Wooshin could no longer be her accomplice. Not even her ally. Right now, if anything, he was a hindrance.

Her instincts screamed that she needed to put some distance between them. Her leg twitched reflexively.

“I’m sorry, I’m not great at seeing things from the other person’s perspective. For me, it’s fine if I do it—”

Seoryeong lowered her head and placed her hands on her hips, exposing the ugliest part of herself.

“But you can’t.”

“......!”

“You’ll probably think this is ridiculous, but... I don’t like sharing.”

She scratched at her furrowed brow and slid open the hospital room door.

“So don’t go on that walk with the nurse.”

And just as she stepped outside, crash! A sharp sound exploded in her ears. Startled, she turned—only to see a wheelchair tipped over on its side, one wheel spinning wildly.

In the middle of that strange silence, Wooshin stood lopsided beside the fallen chair, his face icy as he extended a hand.

“Don’t disregard your instructor. Come here.”

“......!”

“Come talk to me properly.”

“What is this...?”

“I don’t need you to understand how I feel—just get over here.”

He rubbed his face and waved his hand impatiently, as if the anxiety was eating at him.

“When did I ever say anything about the four of us living together? I said let’s leave, just you and me.”

Whether it was anger or something else, she couldn’t read it from his face alone.

Then, Wooshin opened his arms. Seoryeong, frozen in place, stared blankly at his composed expression. A flicker of something like desperation passed over his face, then vanished.

“Seoryeong. I’m the one with the injured foot, not you.”

“......”

The way he couldn’t help snapping like that. And seriously—who holds out their arms like that asking to be lifted?

No matter how injured he pretended to be, his face was flushed with health and his shoulders still looked solid after a single night. He didn’t look like a patient at all.

Even lying in a hospital bed, his body stretched sleek and long like it might leap out the window at any moment—tense like a violin string.

“Think carefully. If I have to go over there, I’m locking the door behind me.”

“......”

“By the way, today’s my birthday.”

“......”

“If you don’t move now, I’ll shake you ten times harder later.”

He really was absurdly good at shutting people up.

***

In the end, Seoryeong lost.

Like a defeated soldier, she went over, righted the wheelchair, and was pulled into his arms. She only managed to escape when sweat started to gather at the back of her neck.

Once they were both dressed for a walk, they made their way toward the hospital’s indoor garden. Seoryeong pushed Wooshin’s wheelchair, following the neatly paved path.

“I normally hate pointless walks like this.”

She looked down at Wooshin’s long, thick neck—now below her eye level.

“Why?”

“Well, as you know from experience, Agent Han, moving to the operation site always starts with a forced march. Whether you’re entering or retreating—being good at walking and running is how you complete the mission. But walking leisurely like this...”

He trailed off for a moment.

While he was quiet, Seoryeong glanced around at the changing scenery, feeling oddly out of place.

Did Kim Hyeon ever walk this kind of path with me, holding my hand when I couldn’t see what was ahead?

When her vision had begun to fail, when she’d eventually gone completely blind. When she couldn’t take a step without his hand guiding her.

Kim Hyeon had always lifted her easily, like she weighed nothing, and stood her in the sun.

“...It’s because only the passage of seasons leaves a mark. That’s why I hated it.”

“......”

Seoryeong, pressing down on the memory that had surfaced without warning, picked up the blanket that had slipped off Wooshin’s shoulder and gently draped it over him again. When her hand brushed his shoulder and quickly withdrew, he ducked his head and gave a quiet laugh.

Eventually, she parked the wheelchair in a sunlit spot and took a seat on the bench nearby. After a brief hesitation, Seoryeong broke the silence.

“So... it’s your birthday today?”

“I used it as an excuse, but truthfully, I don’t celebrate.”

Wooshin’s face hardened, like she’d brought up something he hated more than walking.

“I don’t even like the word birthday. I hate it.”

“......”

She’d grown up in an orphanage, and even then, they used to stick candles in Choco Pies and sing.

Now that she thought about it... aside from the fact that his grandfather was Russian, she knew almost nothing about him. That realization made her pause.

Russia again... it’s always Russia...

Her gaze deepened.

“On my birthday as a kid, my parents died. A few years later, on my birthday, our house exploded in an accident. And on the birthday I came of age, the colleagues who raised me—who supported me in every way—stabbed me in the back.”

“......!”

“I guess they were after my assets or something. The mercenaries who were like family... brought out a cake, lit the candles, popped champagne—and then all jumped me at once. I can’t forget their faces.”

She didn’t know what kinds of hells he’d crossed. But the moment he shared his past, Seoryeong was laser-focused. Even though the thawing ground and warm breeze hinted at spring, she felt nothing.

He stared at a group of children in the park, patients laughing and playing, then gave a dry laugh. His expression said none of it bothered him anymore.

“Nothing good ever comes on this day. I’d rather just throw it away.”

He smiled like a painting, lips curled just right—but for a man who didn’t celebrate birthdays, there was a faint trace of self-loathing in his voice.

Seoryeong, staring at that hollow face, impulsively pulled the wheelchair closer. The wheels rolled silently and stopped in front of her bench. Their knees touched.

She used to fall into a depressive fog every time Kim Hyeon’s birthday came around.

She wanted to buy him a nice cake—but for some reason, she always ended up tripping and ruining it. When she tried to buy him a good gift at the department store, she dropped a luxury perfume bottle and never dared step foot in that place again.

Because he’d married a woman with a disability, he got no proper celebration, no real love—and that filled her with twisted guilt.

That feeling always returned like a curse on what should’ve been the happiest day of his life.

Nothing she prepared ever felt enough. She wished she could just hand him her whole, healthy body—everything but her eyes. But instead, she’d awkwardly hand him a single pen. Pretending to smile cleanly while he blushed with embarrassment was torture.

Just then, behind the wheelchair, the sound of bouncing balls and children’s laughter echoed.

Seoryeong gripped the wheelchair’s armrests tightly and leaned in.

Hyeon... I’m sorry. I really am a bitch.

“――!”

With her eyes tightly shut, Seoryeong kissed him—biting down on Wooshin’s lips.