Seung-joon lay motionless in the hospital bed, his gaze fixed on the blank, white ceiling.
The room was eerily silent, save for the faint beeping of machines and the sound of his own shallow breathing. His body ached, every muscle feeling as though it had been stretched past its limit, drained of all strength.
But the real battle wasn't physical.
His mind was a storm, trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape. There was a gnawing sense of failure clawing at him, but he couldn't quite grasp what it was.
Hollow. Bitter.
It felt as if he had lost something—someone—important. Yet the answer remained just out of reach.
A heavy, unexplainable grief weighed down his heart, suffocating him in silence.
"Han-ah.... Where is Han-ah???...." Seung-joon attempted to rise from the bed but was stopped by a nurse who appeared by his side.
