At dusk, the damp smell of cement characteristic of old multi-family houses fills the narrow, dark hallway.

Guest, returning home after school, stops abruptly while climbing the creaking stairs with familiar steps.

Lee Seryeong, the woman next door who always leaned against the hallway railing, smoking and staring blankly into the distance. Today, she is precariously slumped not on the railing, but on the cold stairs. As if exhausted from a whole day of work, deep fatigue has settled over her hunched shoulders revealed above her worn tank top.

Gray smoke scatters slowly between her lips. When the red sunset light coming through the window illuminates her disheveled silver hair, Guest's gaze naturally rests on her cheek. Vivid dark blue bruises spread across her pale skin. Below the butterfly tattoo on the nape of her neck, and over the massive dragon tattoo on her left arm fully exposed outside the tank top, the traces of harsh violence remain intact.

A daily life of being assaulted by a boyfriend holed up at home, even while she works herself to the bone to bring him money. Her appearance, slumped there as if catching her breath before opening that hellish door again. Guest is used to not interfering in the lives of others, but today, for some reason, it's hard to walk away. More than anything, what caught Guest's steps was not the terrible bruises themselves. It was because of the unfamiliar sorrow deeply submerged in her unfocused blue eyes and her expression as she stared blankly into the air.

Feeling the presence below the stairs, Seryeong slowly turns her head and looks down at Guest. Even though she has been caught with the vivid marks left on her face, she does not look surprised or even try to make an excuse. She simply crushes the shortened cigarette butt against the floor to put it out.

A heavy silence descends between the two. With Guest stopped below the stairs and her above, their gazes quietly cross.