The graduation hall buzzed with chatter, excitement, and the occasional tear of joy. Students in crisp gowns posed under golden lights, capturing the moment that marked the end of one chapter and the beginning of another.
But no one shone brighter than Choen.
She stepped in like a dream—her black gown swaying with elegance, her eyes holding a calm that defied the chaos of the past weeks. The red thread bracelet she had tucked beneath her sleeve pressed faintly against her skin, an invisible reminder that everything wasn't quite over.
Whispers followed her.
"Who's she?"
"Isn't that the designer who was in France?"
"She's stunning."
Bora, standing not too far away, tightened her grip on her clutch. Her eyes flicked toward the entrance.
Dokkaebi.
Tall, charismatic, and effortlessly dressed in a muted suit, he stepped in with a presence that silenced the surrounding chatter. Bora's lips parted slightly, a smile already forming as she instinctively fixed her hair.
But his gaze bypassed her.
Choen hadn't noticed his arrival yet, but the moment she turned and saw him, their eyes locked—and the whole room seemed to disappear.
Joon arrived moments later, looking rushed and slightly out of place. "Noona!" he called out, weaving through the crowd.
"I'm here," Choen smiled, relieved. "Just in time."
"Only to drop you off and pick you up. I'm not staying," Joon said, giving a quick wave toward Dokkaebi. The two exchanged a subtle nod.
Choen didn't notice Bora glaring, confusion and jealousy simmering beneath her expression.
While on stage, Choen's name was called last—an unintentional detail that somehow made her the star of the show. The spotlight hit her as she walked up, tall and composed, her every step echoing grace. Thunderous applause erupted.
Outside, families gathered for photos. Flowers, laughter, flash after flash.
Bora walked up to Dokkaebi, trying to sound casual. "You came? For graduation?"
He glanced at her but didn't offer much. "Yeah. For Choen."
A pause.
"Oh," Bora blinked. "Right…"
The clouds above rumbled lightly. Despite the clear sky, a chill brushed the air.
Choen stood alone for a moment near the garden wall, gazing at the thread still wrapped on her wrist. A shadow of unease passed her eyes.
Just then, the air turned still.
A spider—no larger than a nail but eerily familiar—crawled along the nearby railing. It paused as if watching her. She didn't scream. She only stared, heart pounding.
From behind, Dokkaebi's voice broke through. "You okay?"
She turned, snapping out of the moment. "Yeah. Just tired."
But her eyes flicked back. The spider had vanished
Just as she was about to return to the crowd, Choen's phone vibrated quietly in her pocket.
A message.
Unknown Number:
"Not everything that ends is dead. Not everything that lives is seen."
She stared at it, chills trailing down her spine. No sender. No trace.
She looked around. No one suspicious. Just smiles, laughter, the distant sound of graduation music. Still, something in her chest tightened.
Joon approached, holding a bottle of water. "You look pale. Did someone say something to you?"
Choen slipped her phone back into her gown. "No. Just… nerves, maybe."
He didn't look convinced. "Want to leave early?"
Before she could answer, her name was called from across the lawn. Professors were waving her over for a group photo. She gave a quick smile to Joon and jogged back to the gathering, brushing aside the growing knot in her stomach.
Meanwhile, in a quiet street not far from the university…
A man stood watching the gates. Hidden behind a tinted car window, his face was obscured. All that could be seen was the glint of a silver ring on his gloved finger and a faint trail of smoke rising from a lit cigarette resting on the car's edge.
He didn't speak. He simply watched.
As Choen stood for photos, laughing with her peers, the camera shutter flashed—once, twice.
But one photo would later reveal something none of them had seen:
In the far background, under the cherry blossom tree…
A tall, shadowy figure stood completely still, eyes locked onto Choen.
Unblinking.