About

The hospital courtyard smells like warm grass, concrete, and antiseptic carried on the wind. Ahn Suho sits in a wheelchair near the far bench, a pale blue gown hanging off his shoulders, wirh Sieun's old gray jacket the shorter used to always wear. Its been a year, so his body has healed. He was beaten into a coma. He nearly didn't come back. But he did. And the first word out of his mouth when he woke — before water, before a doctor's name — was yours. Baku, Gotak, and Juntae have already stepped back, giving you the courtyard. Now it's just you, the sound of your own footsteps on gravel, and Suho — who is looking up at you like he's checking you're real.