Creator's Note: 

Chapter 2 is up! 

Hope you all enjoy it — let me know what you think!

Chapter 2

He should’ve walked another way.

Eun Wol’s pulse picked up at the sight of Gyu In, smirk sharp and eyes too sharp, too knowing. He raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly, hands lifted in defense. Every muscle tensed. Every nerve screamed danger.

Gyu In grinned widened. “I don’t eat humans, but maybe a little bunny like you?”

Whatever fleeting fear had flickered in Eun Wol’s chest vanished, replaced by irritation that burrowed deep, coiling like a live wire.

He stepped aside, only to watch Gyu In pivot, casually facing the wall instead of advancing.

“What do you want?”

Gyu In pouted dramatically. “I just want to talk to you.”

“And why?” Eun Wol snapped, raising a fist. “Say ‘bunny’ again, and this punch’s coming for your face.”

The corner of Gyu In’s mouth quirked, sharp and teasing. “I like you.” His gaze caught Eun Wol’s and held it, unyielding, precise.

Eun Wol’s jaw clenched, irritation flaring but beneath it, his chest betrayed a brief, unexpected flutter. He shook his head, forcing the feeling down.

Don’t fall for this. Not again.

Still, the corner of his eye caught Gyu In’s smirk, and for a split second, the world seemed too loud.

Eun Wol froze. His eyes narrowed.

Wait—did he recognize me?
But how?
Most people who came to the bar were from high society. People like Gyu-in wouldn’t have paid attention to someone like him—especially not after all these years.

He stared hard at Gyu In, trying to read between the lines.

“I mean your face,” Gyu In added casually, like dropping a pebble into water. “I’m a man of principles, you know. If I’m making a deal, I only do it with people who look as good as you.”

“Ah… I’m not interested,” Eun Wol muttered. “Not your face, either.”

Gyu In gasped, genuinely offended. “How could you say that! You haven’t even heard my offer.”
He pulled out a name card and handed it over. “Just listen, yeah? I promise—you won’t regret it.”

Eun Wol took the card with a blank stare and shoved it into his pocket without a glance.

“If you’re done, I’ll be leaving now.”

Eun Wol shut the door behind him with a dull thud, more forceful than necessary. A glance at the clock: 4:15 a.m.

“Tch... Twenty minutes later than usual,” he muttered.

Stupid Gyu In. Stupid smirk. Stupid face.

He yanked the name card from his pocket and flung it onto the couch like it burned. Then the bathroom, steam curling around him, water hot against his skin but unable to wash away the weight pressing his chest flat. A towel hung loose over his head, half-forgotten as he stared blankly at the glow of his phone screen.

No notifications.
Not even a “good night.”
Not even a “seen.”

Hovering thumb above the screen, he hesitated. 

Should he call? Maybe just a message? What if she’s asleep? 

Not again.

She used to reply daily. Every few days, a dot, a word, a simple emoji—proof she was there, proof she was safe.

Now, silence. Consequence. Distance made visible in the emptiness of his hand.

He collapsed onto the couch. Hands over his face, trembling just slightly, hating that he noticed at all.

His thoughts dragged him back, uninvited.
To the hallway. The mask. The lock. Her face.

The hallway was dim and silent.
Eun Wol tightened the cap over his head and adjusted his mask. His grip on the cold metal pole was firm, steady—but his heartbeat wasn’t. He knew this building. Every camera blind spot. Every creaking tile. And he also knew—he couldn’t stop. Not now. The nameplate on the door stared back at him like a curse.

Lee Dong Yeo.

He tried the doorknob. Locked, of course.

From his pocket, he retrieved a small roll of tools and knelt in front of the lock.
“Six pins,” he whispered to himself as he counted the clicks. His voice barely registered in the quiet hallway.

He worked fast. Focused. Efficient.

Click.

Click.

Click.

His fingers moved with precision, switching out the hook pick for a notched one. One last pin. Just one more.

Click.

The lock gave way with a soft clack.

“Finally.”

He slipped inside, closing the door gently behind him. A flashlight dangled from his lips as his hands began searching—desperately—through drawers and shelves.

There had to be something. Anything. Photos, a note, a proof.

But the drawers were locked too.
Should he break them? What if he—

Click. The door opened.

He froze, diving under the desk.

“Well, what do we have here?” A familiar purred. Too familiar. “There is no need to hide.”

Eun Wol clenched his fist as he continued to remain silent. “I am getting a little lonely. Come out now~”

“Oppa.” Her voice!  He scrambled out from under the desk and stood. His heart caught in his throat.

“Eun Bin” Eun Wol cracked his voice - he missed her too much, “Eun Bin ah.”  He hadn’t seen her in over a year. The last time, she was sobbing in his arms, whispering that she wanted to leave.

“Don’t get too sentimental now.” Dong Yeo’s voice cut in casually, like they were old friends meeting by chance, “Eun Wol, how are you these days? It has been about 2 years, right? Wow, time sure flies. If you want to come, you could have come at a better timing. Don’t you have my number?”

“Shut up.” Eun Wol's jaw clenched. “Eun Bin, I—”

“Oppa.” Her voice was calm. Cold. “What are you doing here?”

“I just wanted—”

“You’re still the same,” Dong Yeo said, letting his gaze sweep over Eun Wol in slow, deliberate judgment. “Predictable… almost comforting, really.”

Dong Yeo gave low chuckled and slid his arm around Eun Bin’s waist. “Hide that pole, will you? It’s kind of scary.”

“Don’t touch—!”

“Oppa,” Eun Bin interrupted, gaze vacant. “Please. Leave.”

Dong Yeo smirked, tilting his head as if granting a favor. “No worries. I won’t call the guards. I know you’re smart enough not to try this again… unless you like testing me, Eun Wol.”

He couldn’t even remember leaving.

He couldn’t remember the stairs, the street, the dark alley where the pole dragged loudly behind him. He just remembered her face. The way she looked at him like he was a stranger.

Like he was the problem.

He left, legs carrying him away, memories clinging like shadows. Her vacant eyes, Dong Yeo’s grin—they haunted every step.

Back in the cramped silence of his apartment, Eun Wol stood under the cold stream of the shower, the water unable to wash away the heaviness settling in his chest.

Towel draped over his shoulders; he stared blankly at the dark screen of his phone.

He grabbed his phone again, hesitating for a moment.

Then he typed:

[My Little Sister]
Sent: I don’t mean to rush in.

Sent.

He stared at the screen.

No reply. Silence stretching long.

The next morning, the city was already buzzing as Gyu In stepped into his office, the steady hum of productivity filling the air.

A familiar symphony greeted him—layers of sound weaving into a rhythm that no longer fazed him.

The constant hum of voices. The mechanical clatter of keyboards. The rhythmic clicks of computer mice. Phones ringing, emails chiming—it was the soundtrack of productivity. Repetitive, reliable, numbing.

“Good morning, Sir Kim.”
Hae Won, his personal secretary, approached with a cup of freshly brewed coffee in hand, steam curling into the air.

“Need me to run through today’s schedule?”

Gyu In waved lazily as he made his way to his desk. “Nah. I’ve got a rough idea.”

He sank into his chair, flipping open the top file without much thought. “Also, didn’t I tell you not to be so formal all the time?”

“It wouldn’t be professional of me to address you casually.”

“I’m not a stiff like my old man,” Gyu In replied with a crooked grin. “Wanna learn how to pronounce my name properly?”

Hae Won sighed, brushing him off with practiced grace. “Sir Kim, please refrain from teasing too much.”

Ding.
[Sperm Donor]
Received: I’ve arranged a lunch date for you with Miss Cho Yerin from Cho Firm Enterprise.

Received: Reservation is at 12:30 PM. Do not be late.

Gyu In stared blankly at the notification.

“Is it acceptable for me to smash my phone and pretend I never saw that?” he muttered under his breath.

“Was it Mr. Kim?” Hae Won asked gently. “Another blind date?”

“Bingo,” Gyu In groaned, rubbing his temple. “Ugh, my head already hurts.”

“But Sir Kim,” Hae Won said cautiously, “I thought you mentioned having a plan to counter that.”

Gyu In looked up from his seat, eyes glinting with mischief. “Yeah. I do.”

He leaned back, fingers tapping against the desk casually.

“I’m just waiting for my plan to call me.”

“…Your plan?”