The coach idled in front of the house, its engine a low hum in the morning air. People had brought their bags down, placing them on the gravel next to the bus, and the driver loaded them into the storage compartment beneath the vehicle. At the far end of the house, away from the bustling group, Hyun-woo swung one leg over his motorbike, his movements as measured and calm as ever.

He strapped on his helmet without pause, the familiar ritual a shield. As he clipped the visor down, his gaze, imperceptibly, flicked across the gravel toward the waiting bus.

Seo-jin, sensing his movement, turned instinctively, catching him in the same moment. Their stare locked, holding for just a second too long, a silent, weighty exchange that defied the distance between them.

He pulled the throttle. The engine roared to life, an excessive sound that cut through the morning quiet. Dust kicked up behind his back wheel as he sped off, disappearing around the curve of the gravel track in a flash of dark metal.

A beat later, Min-su stepped beside Seo-jin, his eyes still on the empty track where Hyun-woo had vanished.

"It’s all a bad boy image, you know," Min-su said, his voice soft, contemplative. A beat. "He’s just as lost now as when I first met him."

He turned gently toward her, his gaze kind. "But then you know that." He paused, his voice softer still. "You’ve known him a long time."

Seo-jin didn’t answer. She just watched the empty space where the bike had disappeared, the way a pause lingers after a question no one asked out loud, the unresolved weight of their shared history hanging in the cool morning air.

Min-su held his hand out towards the bus inviting her onboard. “After you.”

She climbed the steps and found a seat at the front of the coach. As Min-su came to pass her, she looked up and raised her arm slightly to catch his attention. He paused and leant down towards her.

"I just wondered. Has he ever mentioned me to you?" her voice trailed off a little towards the end, as if unsure.

Min-su gently shook his head. "No. But I would say that there is not a soul on this bus who can't feel something between you two, when you’re in the same room."

She looked down from his gaze, embarrassed. Not by Min-su, but by the idea that everyone else could sense something between them. Especially when she thought she was fronting so well.

Min-su smiled and continued down the bus. Do-yeon appeared by her side.

"Shift up then." Seo-jin moved into the window seat and Do-yeon sat down. She looked at Seo-jin and then over her shoulder at Min-su. As she turned back, Seo-jin had leant into her, close enough to whisper. It made her jump a little to see her so suddenly close.

"Do you think people knew something was between us? Me and Hyun-woo I mean?" Seo-jin gently probed. Do-yeon let out a little yelp, as if bemused by her question.

"Did you not see the room last night when you got back? Of course they do. But. What they don't know is if something has happened... or will happen."

Seo-jin sat back in her chair, deflated, the idea that people would have been talking about them played around her head. Do-yeon interrupted her, almost able to read her thoughts.

"Stop that. Remember what I said. No white knuckling this on your own." she paused, then "I'll put them straight if you need me to." 

Seo-jin managed a slight shake of her head and a glimpse of a smile. She sat more upright in her seat and turned to look out of the window at the countryside. She caught herself looking for traces of him on his bike on the distant road, so turned away to stare into the back of the seat in front, annoyed by her own infatuation with him. 

The coach juddered as the driver put the coach into gear and pulled away from the house.