A month had gone by.
Thirty days.
Thirty nights.
Thirty identical mornings, gray, suffocating, where every breath seemed to cost a little more, where every minute spent away from Nari became a new kind of torture, a slow burn that was consuming Sion from the inside, and he couldn't put it out.
Thirty days where he had held on—or rather… survived—sitting in that white clinic where his mother's madness took up all the space, where her fits came one after another like raging waves, screaming, bloody, where his own heart cracked a little more every time she screamed his name as if she were speaking to a ghost already dead.
The clinic's hallways swallowed him up a bit more every day:
the too-cold light,
the sweat-soaked sheets,
the screams,
the medication,
the antiseptic smell clinging to his skin,
until it almost erased the scent of Nari he had carried on him for weeks.
It had become his prison.
His hell.
His routine.
He woke up every morning with the same feeling:
as if the whole world was weighing on his chest,
as if each heartbeat was a cruel reminder of the emptiness she had left behind.
And that afternoon, he snapped.
He stepped out of the building with a sharp, almost violent stride, unable to breathe one more minute within those walls saturated with pain and memories, wanting just… air. Any kind. Even if it was cold, dirty, brutal—anything that wasn't the air of machines and screams.
Seoul stretched out before him: alive, loud, bright.
An entire city in motion.
And him, a dead man walking.
He walked for a long time, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black coat, shoulders heavy, head lowered as if under an invisible rain, moving without direction, without purpose, just to escape his own body, his own mind that refused to shut up.
He tried not to think of her.
But she came back.
Always.
Again.
With that cruel precision that twisted his gut:
her laugh,
her skin,
her trembling voice,
her scent on his sheets,
the warmth of her hands.
He felt as if someone had stolen something essential from him.
He wandered like that, a ghost among the living, until his steps led him onto a large bridge over the Han River—a place suspended between the city and the void, between noise and silence, between life and death.
He leaned his elbows on the railing and lit a cigarette with a trembling hand.
The smoke rose, white, light, mixing with the cold wind whipping his face.
Below, the river gleamed like a blade of steel.
The buildings glittered.
The city breathed.
And he wondered what it felt like to disappear entirely.
He closed his eyes for a second.
Just one.
Then—a feeling.
A presence.
A scent his heart recognized before his brain did.
He opened his eyes again. Slowly.
And his world stopped.
NARI.
She was standing in front of a café, just a few meters away, at the exact spot where chance seemed to take a twisted pleasure in tormenting him.
Her.
Alive.
Beautiful.
Fragile.
A little nervous.
Her hands gripped around her bag.
Her hair dancing in the winter breeze.
The neon light brushing her profile as if Seoul itself wanted to highlight her.
His heart exploded inside his chest.
He took a step.
Just one.
He was about to call out to her.
His throat vibrated.
His breath hitched.
But before a single sound could leave his mouth…
A man walked out of the café.
Her fiancé.
Sion froze.
As if an invisible wall had slammed into him.
As if someone had ripped his heart from his chest and crushed it at his feet.
As if the universe were openly laughing in his face.
Her fiancé walked up to Nari.
He took her hand.
Pulled her close.
Kissed her on the temple—light, soft, familiar.
And she smiled.
A real smile.
Light.
Simple.
A smile she had never given him, not like that.
Sion felt the ground give way beneath him, his stomach knotting with sharp pain.
A primitive pain.
Violent.
Burning.
A jealousy so vicious it knocked the air out of his lungs.
He stayed hidden, swallowed by the shadow of the bridge, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to look away.
His fist tightened around the cigarette, ash falling silently onto the railing.
— No… he muttered, his voice broken, lost in the wind.
The man slipped his arm around Nari's waist, his fingers sliding into hers—a tender, natural gesture that pierced Sion like an icy blade.
They walked together, laughing, carefree, like two lovers who had never known the storm.
Nari lifted her gaze to her fiancé with a softness she had never offered Sion.
A forbidden softness.
Intolerable.
They moved closer to the bridge, still without noticing the motionless silhouette of Sion, standing just meters away in the shadows.
Then suddenly, her fiancé stopped.
He threw his arms up to the sky, laughing like an overexcited kid, and shouted:
— In two weeks, I'm marrying the woman of my life!!!
The sentence rang out in the cold air.
Like a stab.
Like a sentence.
Nari blushed.
She laughed.
People around them applauded.
Cries of "Congratulations!" erupted.
A random couple smiled at them.
And then…
She kissed him.
A tender kiss, long, deliberate.
A public kiss, claimed, luminous.
Sion felt something tear violently inside his gut.
A dull panic, a black rage, an unbearable pain.
He stepped back, as if that single gesture had just ripped a piece of his heart away.
He set one hand on the railing, searching for air, for anything to hold on to reality.
But reality had just exploded in his face.
— She forgot him…
— She forgot me.
Those words carved themselves into his skull, fierce, devastating.
Her fiancé kissed her again.
And in that moment…
something inside Sion tipped over.
Not just jealousy.
Not just anger.
Something deeper.
Darker.
An instinct.
A pull.
A vertigo.
His vision narrowed.
His breathing turned ragged.
His heart was pounding so hard it made him nauseous.
Then… he started walking.
One step.
Then another.
Slow.
Determined.
Blinded.
And before he even realized it, he was right behind them.
His shadow stretched across the ground.
His breath burned in his throat.
Sion grabbed the fiancé by the collar with a sharp brutality, then slammed him against the bridge rail.
The impact made the metal shudder.
The fiancé let out a strangled cry as his back hit the frozen bar and, in one single move, Sion shoved him halfway over the void, his hips already tilted to the wrong side.
His feet searched for a foothold that no longer existed.
His hands clutched the railing with animal desperation.
The icy wind whipped his face while the Han roared below, ready to swallow him.
Nari spun around, horrified, her scream dying in her throat.
And in Sion's eyes…
there was nothing rational left.
Only that black flame, primitive, uncontrollable.
The fiancé screamed immediately, his voice splintered by panic:
— HEY, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?! LET GO OF ME, WHAT THE FUCK!!!
But Sion wasn't hearing anything anymore.
The entire world seemed to vanish around him.
The passersby, the cars, the lights of Seoul…
All of it erased, swallowed by that black rage rising in him like a tide of poison.
His breathing was ragged.
His fingers shook around the man's collar.
A vein throbbed at his temple, ready to burst.
Sion leaned in so close their breaths mingled, hot and frantic.
His voice dropped, slow, rough, almost intimate—yet cold enough to freeze blood.
— You feel that?
One centimeter.
He pushed just slightly.
The man's body slipped another millimeter into the void.
— One fucking centimeter and I make you disappear.
The fiancé started shaking all over, incapable of doing anything but whimper in panic, his fingers whitening from how hard he clung to the rail to avoid falling.
Nari screamed, hands clamped over her mouth.
— SION, STOP!
But Sion didn't turn.
Not yet.
He stayed perfectly still, his gaze locked into the fiancé's panicked eyes.
And in those eyes, what he saw…
was disgust,
contempt,
a silent judgment—
as if this man thought he was better than him,
as if he believed he had already won,
as if he believed Nari already belonged to him.
A cold madness flashed through Sion.
— She doesn't belong to you,
he breathed, his voice hoarse, unrecognizable.
The fiancé struggled, his legs kicking into empty air.
— PUT ME DOWN, YOU PSYCHO!! HELP!!!
His voice was nothing but a thread of terror now.
Sion tightened his grip even more.
A low growl rose from his chest, almost animal.
— You think you're gonna marry her?
— You think you're gonna touch her, hold her, kiss her?
— WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
He shook him violently above the void.
Nari lunged forward, eyes full of tears.
— SION! PLEASE! PLEASE, NO!!!
This time, he turned his head slightly at the sound of her voice.
Just a little.
Just enough to see her.
Her hands were shaking.
Tears glistened in her eyes.
And for a tenth of a second, something inside him faltered.
Nari.
His Nari.
The only thing he had never been able to control.
The only one who slipped through his fingers.
The only one who destroyed him.
He loosened his grip. Just a little.
A breath.
Then he set the fiancé back on solid ground.
Relief flashed across Nari's face—
but it lasted only a second.
Because before any of them could breathe, Sion drew his fist back…
And landed the hardest punch of his life right into the fiancé's jaw.
CRACK.
A dry crack echoed.
Blood splattered.
The fiancé collapsed to the ground like a rag doll.
Nari screamed:
— NOOOOO!!!
But Sion wasn't listening anymore.
He lunged at him.
And then…
he hit him.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Blows of inhuman brutality.
Wild, uncontrolled punches, as if he were unloading years of pain, jealousy, craving, rage.
Each impact sounded like a hammer slamming into fragile bone.
The fiancé let out weak groans, barely conscious, his face already unrecognizable—swollen, bloody, mangled.
Sion was shouting:
— SHE… IS… MINE!
— YOU HEAR ME?!
— MINE!!!
People were screaming.
Bystanders stepped back, terrified.
No one dared intervene—not in front of that mass of raw anger, that wounded beast that had just exploded.
The fiancé tried to raise a hand in a pathetic attempt to protect himself.
Sion knocked it away with another furious hit.
Nari ran towards them, her legs shaking, her heart shattered.
She wrapped her arms around Sion from behind, pressing her body against his to stop him.
— SION, STOP! I'M BEGGING YOU!
He froze.
His fist hung in the air.
She was trembling.
She was crying.
Her breath hit his neck.
Sion… look at me… look at me…
He turned his head.
His gaze finally met hers.
Two pairs of eyes drowned in tears, rage, and pain.
Slowly, he lowered his fist.
His breathing turned ragged.
He planted his hands on the ground, his whole body shaking.
Then suddenly, he grabbed her.
Pulled her towards him.
And kissed her.
A violent kiss, desperate, torn.
A kiss that sounded like an ultimatum.
A goodbye.
Or an impossible confession.
Nari couldn't even push him away. She was shaking, in pure shock.
That craving.
That fire.
That pain.
Then the sirens came closer.
Flashing lights.
Shouts from the crowd.
Paramedics rushing in.
Nari tore herself away from him.
— Go!
— Go, Sion!
— Go before they arrest you!
He stared at her.
Tears—real tears—were running down his cheeks.
One sentence passed through his eyes, silent, burning:
"Don't marry him."
Then he vanished into the crowd, swallowed by the night.
Silence crashed down all at once.
A heavy silence, thick, almost unreal.
Just the roar of the Han under the bridge,
and the sirens drawing closer and closer.
Nari was left alone in the middle of the crowd,
short of breath, hands shaking,
her heart beating so hard she thought it might explode.
She fell to her knees beside her fiancé's body.
He was barely moving.
His chest rose weakly,
as if every breath cost him a war.
— Oh my God… Look at me!
— Baby! Open your eyes!
she cried, her voice shredded.
She put her hands on his face.
Her fingers trembled as they touched the blood, the warmth, the ruined skin.
Her fiancé's lip was split, his jaw crooked,
one eye swollen shut, his cheek caved in,
footprints and fist marks everywhere.
He tried to speak.
— … Na… ri…
Four letters.
A breath.
A plea for help or a reproach—she couldn't tell.
She sobbed, her throat tightening around a pain she didn't even know how to name anymore.
— I'm here… I'm here…
But even she could hear how false those words sounded.
She was there physically.
Not with her heart.
Not with her soul.
And that realization tore her apart even more than the scene itself.
The paramedics arrived at a run, gently pushing Nari aside.
— Miss, please step back.
She somehow managed to get back on her feet,
her legs shaking like cracked glass.
She stumbled back a few steps.
She watched their hands working quickly,
the bandages being rolled out,
the respirator being prepared,
voices overlapping around her.
— He's still breathing.
— Weak pulse.
— Possible mandibular fracture.
— Probable head trauma.
Words that shot through her mind like poisoned arrows.
But one word rang louder than all the others.
Death.
The death that had hovered.
The death that could have taken him.
The death Sion had flirted with for her.
She wanted to throw up.
Scream.
Tear off her own skin.
But she stayed there, frozen, her hand over her mouth,
unable to move or breathe.
This is all my fault.
The sentence rose in her head like a silent scream.
All around her, passersby whispered, their voices hissing through the cold air:
— That's her, the girl between the two…
— Looks like a love triangle…
— I filmed everything, I'm gonna post it…
— The guy could've died…
Each word was another stab.
The police arrived too, blocking off the bridge.
People stepped aside.
— Miss, are you with the victim?
She nodded, unable to speak.
— You'll have to come down to the station to give your statement.
She turned toward the stretcher as they lifted her unconscious fiancé.
Her eyes filled with a pain so fierce she thought she would collapse.
They loaded him into the ambulance.
The door shut.
She was left standing alone, the reflection of the siren lights flickering in her tear-filled eyes.
And it was only when the ambulance drove away,
blue and red flashing in the Seoul night,
that she felt something break inside her.
Not just a crack.
A total collapse.
An internal quake.
Her heart had just given way under its own weight.
She thought of Sion, of his crazed look, of that single silent tear,
and the world tore open a second time.
She clutched her chest with one hand.
— Why… why are you doing this to me… Sion… she whispered.
Her legs gave out.
The ambulance was gone.
The crowd had scattered like a guilty tide.
And yet, in the middle of that now-empty bridge,
there was still the smell of blood on the asphalt,
the marks of Sion's shoes,
and Nari's trembling breath that wouldn't steady.
She sat there, knees pulled up to her chest,
her arms wrapped around herself,
like a child trying to protect herself from the entire world.
The freezing wind of Seoul howled around her,
but she didn't even feel it anymore.
She wasn't there.
She'd been ripped out of her own body.
Her fiancé had just brushed against death.
Sion had become a living danger.
And she… she had just lost everything in a single night.
The silence finally broke when a police officer came back toward her.
— Miss, let's go.
She nodded mechanically,
but before following him,
she turned one last time toward the spot where Sion had disappeared,
where a single tear had slid down his cheek,
where one part of her had screamed at him to stay,
and another to run.
That tear haunted her more than the blood.
More than the blows.
More than the violence.
Why… why did you cry?
The question looped in her head.
It tore her apart.
It destroyed her.
— Miss? Please…
She followed the officer.
The neon lights of Seoul reflected in the puddles
like shattered shards of colored glass,
and each step felt like sinking in mud,
as if the city itself were trying to hold her back.
Her inner voice had stopped screaming.
Now it whispered, exhausted, broken:
It's all my fault…
It's all my fault…
It's all my fault…
Meanwhile…
on the other side of Seoul—
Sion walked alone.
With no purpose.
No destination.
No real awareness of where he was putting his feet.
His hands were covered in blood.
His knuckles split open.
His breathing short.
His pupils blown wide.
His clothes torn.
But no pain reached his body.
None.
He couldn't feel anything anymore.
Nothing but a single image.
A single vision.
A single nightmare:
Nari kissing her fiancé under the applause.
Nari smiling.
Nari happy without him.
Nari living her life as if everything they had shared
had been nothing but a passing mistake.
And worse than all of it:
Nari begging him to stop,
to let the other man go,
her eyes filled with a fear he had caused.
Shame ripped open his chest.
A burning, acidic shame.
He didn't feel powerful anymore.
Or dominant.
Or dangerous.
He felt…
small.
Like a child abandoned in an alley.
Like a son who had lost his mother a thousand times.
Like a man who had just destroyed the only thing
he had ever wanted to keep close.
He collapsed onto a bench in an empty street.
The cold bit into his fingers.
The dried blood pulled at his skin.
He closed his eyes.
And in the darkness that rose up,
he saw the whole scene again:
— SHE'S MINE!
— YOU HEAR ME?!
— MINE!!
His own scream echoed in his skull,
terrifying, feral, inhuman.
He saw his fist striking.
Again.
Again.
Again.
He heard the bones crack.
Then…
Nari crying.
Nari wrapping her arms around his waist.
Nari pleading.
— I'm begging you, stop…
And finally…
the tear.
His.
The one she had seen.
The only one he hadn't been able to hold back.
He brought his hand to his face,
his palm pressing against his eyes
as if that could erase what he had done.
But nothing moved.
He had crossed a line.
He knew it.
There was no going back anymore.
His shoulders slumped.
He whispered into the empty air:
— Nari…
Just once.
Like a prayer.
Like a confession.
Like an admission he had never allowed himself.
The wind carried his breath away.
The city swallowed him whole.
That night,
Seoul became witness
not only to his jealousy,
but to his downfall.
He was no longer just a dangerous man.
He was a man who had just realized
he loved someone
enough to go insane.