UNREACHABLE

you let out a quiet groan under your breath as others start moving around, calling out to their groupmates, some laughing, others already complaining

you stay where you are, too lazy to even look for him

"usual place?"

his voice cuts in before you can even sit up straight

you look up

he's already there, standing right in front of your table like it's the most normal thing in the world, like nothing happened, like you didn't spend two days avoiding anything that has to do with him

you blink once, then push yourself up a little

"yeah... sure"

you nod, trying to act normal

it should be fine since he's not drunk this time, you think

—

the door clicks behind you as you follow him inside, softer than you expected, a dull thump echoing through the apartment

you trail after him toward the kitchen, the usual place you both end up doing assignments, mostly because of the big table and easy access to snacks

halfway through the living room, you stop in your tracks

something smells different

a light, zesty lime scent lingers in the air, not strong enough to sting but just enough to stay in your head

you frown. you're pretty sure it wasn't here the last time you came over

"since when do i even notice things about him...?"

you mutter under your breath before walking into the kitchen

—

three hours pass before you even realise it

papers scattered, laptop open, soft typing and pages flipping filling the space

and somehow, nothing happens

no teasing, no weird comments, no drunk behavior

just quiet, comfortable silence fills the space

you lean back slightly, a small breath slipping out without you noticing 

a blessing at last

he looks up "want to stop?"

he takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose before glancing at you again

"we can order takeaways... if you're hungry"

a small pause

"my treat"

you perk up without realising

"sure... that sounds nice"

he's about to say something else when your phone suddenly rings

you freeze, the screen lights up

calling... loml <3

your eyes widen

'shoot'

you grab it quickly, a little too quickly

"hey, what?"

you stand up fast, already walking to the living room

"aww, don't you miss me, darling?" the voice laughs softly

"landing this evening, wanna pick me up? even got chocolates from swiss for you"

you roll your eyes, leaning against the wall

"you have a butler, go bother him instead"

"but you promised we'd go out when i'm back, right?" you could totally imagine him pouting, lips pursed up with glint of lippies he reapplies every 30 minutes

"i didn't say the second your butt touches the ground at the airport, idiot"

his laugh echoes and you groan, dragging a hand down your face

"go annoy someone else, i have assignments"

"ouch, so cold!" 

"yeah yeah, bye"

you hang up before he can continue

for a second, it's quiet

too quiet

you stare at your phone, then sigh and head back to the kitchen

he's still there

same position, eyes on his laptop, typing like nothing happened

like he didn't hear anything

but something feels off

"uh... how about chinese tonight?" you suggests, sitting down

"kinda craving something spicy"

he pauses, just for a second, then nods

"sure"

—

you reach for your pen again, trying to focus

the silence stretches, filled with soft typing and pages flipping

normal, awkward even and just when you sigh, relief that he doesn't ask—

"friend?"

his voice cuts in

you blink, looking up

he's still staring at his screen

"that call," he adds

"a friend?"

your fingers stop mid-air

"yeah" you answer, a bit too fast

"just a friend"

he hums softly "you sounded close"

this time he glances up, just for a second

and it's enough to make your stomach tighten

"we've known each other for a long time" you shrug

"that's all"

"mm"

he leans back, taking off his glasses again, cleaning the lens slowly with his shirt

"love of my life," he repeats under his breath

your heart skips, 'shoot he definitely saw the contact' you internally screaming as your palm sweats

he puts his glasses back on, finally looking at you

"interesting nickname for 'just a friend'"

"he's the one who set it" you mumble "i'm too lazy to change it"

the words come out quick, too quick your brains barely registers anything

and suddenly you regret saying anything at all

because why are you even explaining?

you stop when you notice the lanterns floating above. without thinking, you rush to get one for yourself. you’ve only ever seen this in dramas—sweet couples lighting lanterns together, releasing their wishes into the sky

who cares if you’re alone? who cares if you don’t even have a wish?

you light it anyway. perhaps it’s simply because you didn’t want to miss out

just as you release the lantern, something flicks your hand

the touch is cold. you don’t need to look to know who it is

“can’t we stay just a little longer?” you pout, blinking dramatically at her

well, not exactly her. a ghost. specifically, a court maid ghost, and a strict one at that. perhaps she never quite let go of her routines from when she was alive

“it’s already midnight. you’ve had more than enough time to enjoy this festival,” she says flatly.

you grumble but nod. better to agree than endure an entire night of nagging

and so begins the adventure of sneaking back into the palace without being caught

the court maid is helpful, even if she nags like a granny, warning you of patrol routes, pointing out places haunted by spirits lurking for an innocent victims

everything goes smoothly. you’re only a few steps away from your chamber when she suddenly stops talking

then she vanishes into thin air

you furrow your brow. “noona?”

no response

exhausted from the entire sneaking out ordeal, you decide to let it go. you pull out the last piece of tteok, munching on it as you slide open the door to your chamber

and freeze

a pair of sharp eyes stare back at you

the figure lounges on your comforter, and even in the dimness of night, you can clearly see the displeasure etched on his face

“e-eh, jeonha… w-what are you doing here?” sweat trickles down your forehead as your stomach flips

so that’s why the court maid disappeared, huh?

“it seems you enjoyed yourself at the harvest festival,” he says calmly

“brother.”

some translation 4 u guys

something he talked to

something he collided with

you had only been minding your own business — which meant skipping pe and hiding in the library when you were supposed to be resting in the infirmary after telling the teacher you were “sick,” like you always did

you also thought you were very good at keeping your mouth shut

apparently, that day your mouth malfunctioned and chose violence, theoretically ending your life

because a small squeak escaped you when you saw him move

and the shadow moved with him

because what the actual hell was that ?

after that, you ran

you had never run so fast in your life. usain bolt would have been proud. you sprinted all the way back to pe, slid onto the court, and pretended nothing had happened

for the first time in your existence, you would rather play dodgeball than skip class

—

you never saw him the same way again

the golden boy image shattered completely, replaced by one word

hazard

you would rather face a deadly plague than cross paths with him ever again

unfortunately, fate has a twisted sense of humor

if fate could be described with one adjective, you would choose sadistic

you blink and stare down at the paper again. maybe you need new eyes, you think, rubbing them tiredly. you did just finish a pre-calculus pop quiz, after all

the bell rings,

the sound feels like mockery in your ears

you glance at the list one last time before dragging your feet toward the hall for the grand launching of the so-called mentor–mentee program, a sigh escaping your mouth for what feels like the hundredth time

MENTOR–MENTEE PROGRAM

NUMBER 16

(name) (last name) — MENTEE

well

you don’t even need to look up to know who the mentor is

—

students scatter toward the exits after the speech ends, rushing to find their assigned mentors. your friends disappear quickly — some excited because they got paired with their crushes, some lucky enough to get the same mentor as their friend group

you just groan

slowly, you shuffle toward the hall exit, not even bothering to search for him

maybe if you walk fast enough, you can pretend you never saw the list

maybe he won’t show up

maybe, just maybe—

a light tap lands on your shoulder

you freeze, your thoughts poof

“running away already?” a calm voice says behind you

your stomach drops

you don’t want to turn around

you really, really don’t

but you do anyway, like something magnetic is pulling you

and there he is

smiling warmly and perfectly, like a porcelain doll

like he always does in front of everyone

except now, standing this close, you notice something different

his shadow on the floor doesn’t match his posture at all

it leans slightly toward you

like it’s trying to reach you first

you take a small step back and force your voice to sound normal

“uh… where do you want to hold the tutoring session? the library seems nice, right?”

crowded places are safer

there is no way you are willing to be alone with him in some empty classroom

“sure,” he says easily. “i thought the same.”

his smile widens slightly

“the staff already reserved a study room for me. i use it often when i come to study there. it’s much quieter than the open space.”

your heart drops

oh no, not the freaking study room where the windows are all tinted

he tilts his head

“it will be easier for you to focus on the tutoring,” he adds softly

then, after a brief pause, his eyes flicker downward — not to your face

but to your shadow

“or you can focus on me instead, if you want to.”

he flashes a bright, harmless smile, eyes crinkling like he has never once hurt anyone in his life

and for a split second, you almost believe it

almost step closer, almost forget, too stunned that even your breath caught in your lung

until his shadow suddenly jerks

it stretches unnaturally across the floor

toward you, toward your feet

like a hand reaching

your breath catches

and before you knew it, your body moves before your brain does

you turn sharply and start walking toward the library

fast, very fast that you felt your mother would be amazed if she knew her child suddenly became an athletic person

pretending you hadn’t seen anything at all, you quickly plugged in your earphones, trying to calm yourself down with music

behind you, his footsteps follow

slow, steady and unhurried

your head snaps toward the sound. leaves rustle again, too deliberate to be the wind

there’s only one person who could track you down this easily

you spring up, ready to run before you’re caught red-handed, but a familiar voice stops you in place. before you can react, a calloused hand catches your wrist, spinning you around. both hands cup your face, fingers searching frantically for any scratches or injuries

“what were you thinking, (name)?” his voice is tight. “jumping out the window and making everyone worry, just to come here?”

you gulp, avoiding his sharp gaze. fighting back would lead nowhere, it always does

“the stars are beautiful tonight, brother,” you say softly while pointing to the sky. “it would be a waste to sit alone in my chamber, right?” as you try to make a point

his expression doesn’t soften

“no more going out alone,” he says. “ever again. even the garden.”

your jaw drops as you look up at him. “even the garden? that’s ridiculous!”

“just like your attitude tonight”

his grip tightens as he pulls you along, dragging you back toward the estate. you don’t resist. you know better than to make things worse.

every day, you tried to remember

you wandered through the house restlessly, searching for fragments of memories that refused to surface. today was no different. the routine remained the same. quiet. empty

you liked lingering near the garden, drawn to the greenery beyond the glass. but the servants always stopped you. they said your husband only allowed it if he was with you

so instead, you paced the hallways, sometimes stopping by the large windows to watch the gardener carefully tend to the plants

your steps slowed as you looked up the wall

hand unconsciously lifted to touch the large framed photograph hanging on the wall

your wedding photo you were grinning widely, almost foolishly happy. his hands rested securely on your hips, and his eyes were fixed on you instead of the camera. making the pictures looks like it was taken from pinterest

you stared at it, trying to remember. anything at all. even fragments would have been enough

but nothing came. nothing ever did no memories of your wedding. no memories of falling in love. only dots of your childhood and high-school era floating around your mind

your husband always filled in the gaps for you

he told you that you met through a cliché love story. on valentine's day, you accidentally spilled coffee on his shirt while rushing to your shift. you insisted paying for the cleaning, and from there, everything else became history

as you continued staring at the frame, you heard chatter down the hall, probably the servants talking before their shifts ended

you ignored it, even though a small part of you wanted to join them. it would only end in awkward silence if you join them

you had noticed it many times before

the servants were afraid of you

their shoulders stiffened whenever you passed. their eyes darted away too quickly. as if staying near you made them uncomfortable

you often stood in front of the mirror, studying your reflection, trying to figure out what was wrong

you couldn't find anything

you looked normal. the same as in the countless photos of you and your husband

still, you tried. badly

you smiled at them whenever you could. you attempted small talk, even lingered in the staff pantry during their breaks, hoping to feel included for once

it never worked

they avoided eye contact. conversations died the moment you entered. sometimes they scattered completely. other times one of them would gently guide you back to your room, reminding you that the pantry wasn't a place for someone like you

and that your husband wouldn't like seeing you socializing with them

you hated it

you tried so hard just to talk, to feel normal. but all you ever received were polite, distant replies

it felt like a victory when someone spoke more than five words to you

to make things worse, you didn't have access to a phone. only the television. it never showed news or anything current, just the same cycle of shows and movies

and somehow, it never played your favourite genres. no thrillers, no mysteries

when you once asked your husband about it he simply changed the subject and became unusually clingy to close the matters, a signal for you to stop asking things he doesn't want to hear

after standing there for a while, you resumed walking, continuing your quest exploration even though you had done it countless times before

your steps stopped in front of his study

the one room he had strictly forbidden you from entering

and today, the door was slightly open maybe a servant had left it that way after cleaning

curiosity crept in and before you knew it, your feet had move towards the room

you stepped inside

the room was dim, the blinds drawn tightly. a large mahogany desk sat in the center. files were stacked neatly across its surface, alongside a few notebooks and a framed photo of you smiling warmly

your chest fluttered at the sight, unconsciously grinning foolishly as you sat in his chair idly and began opening the files mindlessly

business. finance. numbers

boring

then one file caught your attention it was deep burgundy, completely different from the rest

you opened it as your brows slowly furrowed

inside were newspaper clippings. dozens of them, carefully arranged. some were printed from online sources

your breath caught when you noticed the byline

written by: (name) (last name)

every single article was written by you. you flipped through them again, heart beginning to pound

your name was there. over and over

you didn't remember ever becoming a journalist

your husband had told you that you studied forensic science but never worked in the field

maybe it was someone else, yeah coincidence happened, right?

but something about it felt wrong, utterly wrong especially because your husband hated anything related to crime or mystery

so why was he collecting criminal case articles like it's some rare artifact from the louvre?

your fingers moved to a small leather notebook beside the files while your mind still racing, thinking about the articles

it was worn, and got a label on the cover

[February 23' - April 25']

it's edged softened with age. you opened it as your frown deepened

your hands immediately began to shake

every page was about you

2nd february 23'

i discovered that (name) works as a forensic journalist today. so focused, so precise. i can’t help but watch how it reminds me of the times at high school

4th february 23'

i observed (name)'s morning routine. (name) will stop at the café before work. orders the same coffee every day. still the same one from high school

9th february 23'

saw (name) writing by the window. natural light seems to help (name) focus. i'll make sure to prepare a reading corner with natural light in our home soon

14th february 23'

we ran into each other today and (name) accidentally spilled coffee on my shirt. (name) panicked, insisted on paying for cleaning. adorable. and what makes it even cuter is today is the valentine’s day

21st february 23'

i noticed the way (name) often forgets to eat when absorbed in work. headaches come quickly after that and (name) seems to rely on aspirin. seems like (name) doesn't change at all even after high school ended

18th march 23'

coworker behavior concerning. (name) laughed it off, but discomfort was obvious. i'll make sure that pest gets consequences

14th july 24'

(name) mentioned moving to another city today to the office manager. seemed solemn about it. can’t allow changes like that. best to pull some strings so that it will not happen

11th august 24'

(name) looks peaceful when asleep. hope the chain didn’t leave marks since i'm afraid (name) will act rashly after waking up

30th october 24'

(name) starts to become docile and talks more. eating frequently too

9th january 25'

(name) attempted to run away by biting the nurses and thrashing around. disappointed to see this happen. needs further constant attention after this incident

2nd march 25'

neurologist consulted. possibilities discussed.

7th march 25'

selective memory easier to be erased than the whole memories. gentle guidance required to make it successful

12th march 25'

progress slow but promising. emotional support remains crucial. will watch closely as neurologist suggests

15th march 25'

treatment planned carefully. neurologist said chances are high for success

20th march 25'

everything ready. time and care will make it complete. isolation will help memories settle safely. patience, control, care needed after treatment

22nd march 25'

treatment scheduled. recovery expected smooth. neurologist will monitor every moment

4th april 25'

(name) awakened. procedure successful. today went well. (name) calm, that is a good sign

6th april 25'

today is official day (name) is here. showed the house, everything in place. reading corner by the window seems to be interesting for (name)

your breath grew shallow as the entries blurred in your vision

memories surged forward all at once, sharp and overwhelming. you snapped the notebook shut, clutching your head

“wrong. this is all wrong.” he crumpled the paper and tossed it back, deliberately letting it hit your face.

“can we—”

“what? take a break?” he interrupted sharply. “do you realize how far behind you are in the syllabus? if it weren’t for me, you’d have been expelled already. your scholarship would’ve been revoked, and obviously you don't want that to happen, right?”

he smirked.

you didn’t even have the energy to care anymore. too burned out to argue, too exhausted to fight back.

“please,” you said quietly. “i don’t think i can do this—”

your gaze drifted to the stack of papers on the desk: topical questions, past-year papers from every subject. more than half were crumpled—most ruined because your answers were either blatantly wrong or simply didn’t meet his impossible standards.

“no,” he said flatly. “no is no. the faster you get this topic right, the faster we can go home. which part don’t you understand?” he scoffed.

“honestly, you’d be helpless without me.”

tears slipped down your cheeks as your hands began to tremble.

the past months with him had been hell.

who was it that said he was a soft, needy boy?

your heart twisted painfully as his words echoed in your head—over and over again.

you’re dumb.

just because you’re top five doesn’t mean anything.

i’ve told you three times already. what kind of brain do you have? a goldfish? i bet a goldfish has more capacity than you.

you never understood him. one moment, he was sweet—gentle, reassuring. the next, he was throwing a fit, tearing you down piece by piece.

the cycle repeated endlessly.

every time you tried to pull away, to cut ties with him, he would simply shake his head.

“no one understands you like i do,” he would say. “am i not enough? i help you survive exams, and this is how you repay me?”

his voice would soften, dangerous in its calm tone.