Cercis

The hot water runs down my back, but it doesn’t help. No matter how long I stand there, I can’t wash away the mess in my head.

I woke up in Shun’s penthouse... naked, tangled in the sheets, my hair sticking to my face, the air heavy with the scent of last night. For a long moment, I just stood there beside the couch, staring at him. Shun, fast asleep, his face peaceful. He looked… harmless. And that’s the problem.

Because I remember everything.

The alcohol might’ve blurred the edges, but I remember the words, the touch, the heat. The way he looked at me, like I wasn’t something broken. I remember asking him about Iris. The way his voice shook when he swore he had nothing to do with her disappearance. And damn it, he looked so sincere. Too sincere.

But sincerity means nothing in this world. People lie with conviction all the time.

I rest my head against the cold tile, closing my eyes. The image of Shun’s pleading face keeps flashing before me. I want to believe him. I really do. But belief has only ever led me to ruin.

By the time I step out of the shower, I decide I’m not going to work. Not today. Maybe not for the next few days. I toss my phone onto the couch and let it die, no calls, no messages, no reality. Just me, my thoughts, and the faint hum of the fridge.

Days pass. The sun rises and sets, and I stay cocooned in my apartment, surviving off instant noodles and guilt. Occasionally, there’s knocking on my door. Shun’s voice follows, low, gentle, patient. Always the same.

“Cercis, please. Just open up.”

But I don’t. I sit in silence, hugging my knees on the couch, waiting for him to leave. Sometimes he does. Sometimes he stays longer. Eventually, the knocking stops.

Until I run out of food.

I curse under my breath as I grab my keys and step outside for the first time in days. The moment I open the door, I freeze.

Shun’s there.

Sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, head tilted to the side. Asleep. His hair’s a mess, his clothes rumpled, and there’s an empty water bottle next to him. How long has he been here? A day? Two?

“Idiot,” I mutter, stepping over him carefully. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

I ignore the sting in my chest and make my way to the market. The air feels strange, too bright, too sharp. I grab what I need: bread, canned goods, eggs, instant noodles. My hands move automatically, but before I realize it, the cart’s full. Double what I usually buy.

At the counter, I dig through my bag, then freeze.

No wallet.

Perfect. Just perfect. I start to mutter curses under my breath when a low, familiar voice cuts through the noise.

“I’ve got it.”

The words hit me like a slap. My body goes rigid. Slowly, I turn around.

He’s standing there... tall, composed, the very picture of calm authority. A ghost from a nightmare I thought I’d buried. Seymour Kornblume.

For a moment, I can’t breathe. He’s smiling, that same soft, gentle smile. The one that used to fool me when I was too naïve to see the poison behind it.

“Cercis,” he says, voice smooth, melodic, too kind. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

My pulse spikes. The air feels too thin. Every instinct in me screams to run, and for once, I listen.

Without a word, I abandon the cart, the groceries, everything, and bolt. My sandals clatter against the tile as I push past the automatic doors, the cold night air biting my skin.

I don’t look back.

I can’t.

Because if I do, I might see that same smile following me out the door.

As I was running, it started to rain, because of course it did. No umbrella, no hoodie. Perfect. Just my luck.

By the time I reached my apartment building, my lungs were burning. I couldn’t breathe properly, not from exhaustion, but from fear. That smile. That damn smile. Seymour’s face wouldn’t leave my head, the same smug, polite, poisonous grin he used to wear when I thought he was human. I just wanted to lock the door, crawl into bed, and pretend none of it happened.

But my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. My keys kept slipping through my fingers, metal clinking against the lock as I cursed under my breath. Then—

“Cercis?”

I froze. That voice.

When I turned, there was Shun, slowly getting up like some tragic hero, hair a mess, eyes half-open like he’d just woken up from a three-day nap.

“Go away, Shun!” I snapped immediately, flipping him off for good measure. “Leave me the hell alone!”

Before he could answer, a small, annoyed voice cut through the tension.

“Ate Cercis, stop yelling at Kuya Shun!”

I turned and saw my neighbor’s kid standing in his doorway, a bag of chips in one hand and a juice box in the other. His little face was twisted into a pout.

“He’s been waiting here for you since forever! If I didn’t give him snacks and water, Kuya Shun would’ve died already!”

My jaw dropped. “He what?”

The boy nodded, puffing out his cheeks. “He said he was sorry for making you mad, but you didn’t come home! You’re being mean, Ate Cercis!”

I threw Shun a glare.

He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes avoiding mine. “He’s exaggerating a bit, but… yeah, I didn’t wanna leave.”

I let out a long sigh and unlocked the door. “Fine. Get in.”

He followed quietly, and I shut the door behind him, maybe a little too hard.

“Why were you running?” he asked, stepping closer. “You looked—”

“Like I saw a ghost?” I muttered, cutting him off. “Close enough. I saw a monster.”

He frowned. “A monster?”

“Forget it,” I said, collapsing onto the couch. “We’re gonna starve anyway.”

“I can cook something,” he offered softly.

“There’s nothing to cook.”

“Then I’ll go buy groceries.”

“I’m not paying you.”

“I'm not asking you to.”

That made me snap my head toward him. “You don’t get to play the nice guy, Shun. Not after everything.” I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “Let’s get one thing straight... whatever happened at your penthouse? Forget it. It was a mistake. You’re still on my suspicious list.”

He actually smiled a little at that. “Suspicious list, huh? Guess I should feel honored.”

“Don’t joke.”

“I’m not.” His voice lowered. “I’ve been thinking about Iris, too. About what happened back then.”

My stomach twisted. “Don’t.”

“I read your novel,” he continued. “The one you emailed me back when we met at the city library.”

My throat went dry.

“It’s about us, isn’t it?” he said quietly. “An allegory of what happened. Giovanni... that’s me, right?”

I clapped my hands once, slow and sarcastic. “Bravo, detective. You solved the mystery.”

He didn’t laugh. His gaze drifted to the half-open door of my bedroom... where my sketches and drawings of him were taped on the wall. I followed his eyes and cursed silently.

“Why do you keep sketching me, Cercis?” he asked, his voice soft but steady.

I didn’t answer.

He tilted his head slightly, slowly sitting beside me. “Is it because you don’t want to forget the man you blame for your sister’s disappearance? Or because you don’t want to forget me?”

Before he could finish, I shut him down. “Shut up,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You’re right, okay? So shut up and get out.”

He didn’t move.

“I’m not leaving you alone like this,” he said quietly. “You haven’t eaten. You—”

“I said leave me alone!”

His expression didn’t change, but something dark flickered behind his eyes. “Are you scared of me?”

I met his gaze, forcing my voice to stay even. “I’ll be scared if I find out you did something to Iris.” My throat felt tight. “She was obsessed with you, Shun. She crossed your boundaries. And I know what happens to people who cross them.”

His eyes stayed locked on mine, cold and unwavering. “I didn’t kill Iris,” he said firmly. “If that’s what you’re thinking... I didn’t. I never went to her invitation that night. She invited me, but I didn’t go.”

I want to believe him. God, I want to. But the words stuck in my throat. “I don’t know what to believe,” I said, my voice breaking. “But she’s gone, and it’s your fault. You must’ve done something!”

Before I could say anything else, he moved, fast. His hands grabbed my face, and his lips crashed into mine.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t loving. It’s desperate and angry and raw. I pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. He’s too strong. Then, somewhere between panic and something else, I stopped fighting. My hands gripped his shirt instead, my tears hot against his lips.

When we finally broke apart, both of us were breathing hard. The air felt too heavy, like the room itself is holding its breath.

“I would never hurt someone who’s close to you,” he whispered. “Believe me.”

Before I could answer, thunder split the sky outside. I jumped, a strangled gasp escaping me. Then another rumble, louder, closer. My body locked up completely. My hands started to shake.

I hate storms. I always have.

Shun immediately wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close. The warmth of him clashed with the chill crawling under my skin. He grabbed a blanket, covering my shoulders, holding me tight.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice soft. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

I couldn’t respond. My throat felt tight, and the next thunderclap tore through me. I buried my face against his chest without thinking.

“Cercis,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along my cheek. “Cry all you want. Cry on my chest, on my shoulder. Just cry.”

The words broke something in me. I didn’t mean to cry, but I did. My sobs came in shaky bursts, muffled against him. He just held me tighter, one hand stroking my hair in slow, soothing motions.

“You’re not alone this time,” he murmured, his voice low, almost tender. “I’m here. So cry, Cercis. Cry it all out.”

And I did.

I cried until my chest hurt, until the storm outside started to fade into a dull hum. I cried for Iris. For myself. For the mess I’d made with the one man I wasn’t sure I could trust... or stop needing.

And even as I wept, part of me hated how safe his arms felt.