As Jiho witnesses the boy lying breathless on the floor, her expression shifts into a blank mask, an indifference settling over her features like a shroud.
The repetition of the scene only reinforces this numbing sensation, as if time itself is trapped in a loop.
Once again standing in the same corridor, facing the recurring tragedy, Jiho's face remains devoid of emotion, almost like a statue carved from stone.
She gazes at the motionless boy with a detached air, her arms crossing defensively over her chest, a subtle defiance in her posture.
After a prolonged moment of silence, broken only by the faint echoes of her surroundings, Jiho finally speaks.
Her voice cuts through the stillness, cold and icy, matching the frigid gleam in her eyes. "Isn't this enough already?" Her words hang in the air, carrying a weight of weariness and quiet anger.
