“Beg for your life.” The kind voice stirred her amidst the terrible pain.

Na Eun faced Jae Kyung’s face before her with hurt eyes.

Still not used to being betrayed by people, she spoke to Jae Kyung, not the phone screen.

“Jae Kyung, it hurts.”

“……”

“Don’t do this to me.”

At least to the person she liked, she had never tried to maintain her pride. She reached out her injured hand to him desperately.

He brushed it off like dealing with a bug and said,

“Yoon Seok Hoon is in Busan right now.”

At the sudden mention of her father’s name from his mouth, Na Eun’s crying face hardened.

Jae Kyung gazed at her coldly.

“If you don’t write the code you memorized within 15 minutes, he will die.”

We needed insurance too.

As if torturing a young girl wasn’t his hobby, he gestured with his eyes towards Seol Ah who was standing beside him with a smirk.

Although Seol Ah was unhappy that she couldn’t handle Na Eun as she pleased in this situation, she grumbled and lit up the screen of the small device in her hand.

Only after confirming Seok Hoon’s face, looking as if he was asleep, reflected in the live feed, did she wish this was a dream.

The car her father was in was standing precariously close to falling off a cliff near the sea.

Instantly, remembering that she had informed Jae Kyung about her father going on a business trip to Busan, Na Eun momentarily felt like dying.

It’s because of me.

Because of me, Dad might die.

Jae Kyung glanced indifferently at her shoulders trembling incomparably more than when her fingers were crushed, and casually threw his gaze to the screen he was holding.

“The code is solved, we just need to hand over the goods. Heroes.”

[Yoon Na Eun. I will save your father, so don’t give in. Hold on a bit longer.]

For the first time, Hee Won’s urgent voice flowed into Na Eun’s ears.

But she was already out of her mind and couldn’t take it in.

“I’ll tell you. I’ll write it. I’ll do everything you tell me to….”

[−Yoon Na Eun!]

“Please, just save my dad.”

Even at the sound of Hee Won shouting her name, she only repeated the words begging them to save him like a spell and crawled somewhere.

Her legs gave out and she couldn’t even stand, crawling on the floor. Seol Ah giggled as if finding her state amusing.

“Oh my, where is she going?”

What I broke were her fingers, but did she go blind? Na Eun, crawling clumsily, was heading in a somewhat absurd direction.

It was clear that in a state of sufficient mental panic, she couldn’t make proper judgments of the situation.

Paper, pen… Where was it earlier?

Seol Ah approached her with a fluttering gesture, as if she was really blind, groping the floor after reaching somewhere.

Ta-da, supplies. I’m so kind, right? She handed over the paper and pen with a deliberately soft attitude.

Na Eun took them, spread them on the floor, and gripped the pen. Soon, she began to write something down.

Only the sound of the pen scratching on the paper filled the surroundings.

Jae Kyung was still holding his phone, live streaming Na Eun’s state to the other side with an indifferent attitude.

A few minutes later, two sheets of paper were densely filled.

“Look. How nice it is when you listen so well like this?”

Seol Ah excitedly took the completed papers from Na Eun.

And it was the moment she was showing them off to the screen Jae Kyung was holding. Seol Ah’s expression holding the papers turned subtle.

What the hell is this?

She had guessed that the nearly 4,000-character code would be an irregular mix of numbers, letters, and English, but something was strange.

At least the back page couldn’t be filled with the same numbers, could it?

Instantly, Seol Ah, who had been excitedly approaching the phone screen, turned her head urgently after confirming that Jae Kyung’s expression had darkened.

At the same time, Na Eun, who had been sitting far away on the outer edge of the wide open building, called out to her friends.

Guys−

“If I die here, it’s because these people killed me.”

Her friends, who were all watching Na Eun’s figure through the screen, were silent.

She spoke straight towards the screen Jae Kyung was holding.

“It’s not because you couldn’t protect me.”

So−

“…both of you, don’t ever think anything strange.”

Very rarely, she had imagined moments like this. The her in those imaginations always ran away and cried.

Because taking one’s own life was a courage unimaginable for her ordinary and young self.

It was simply too scary.

But when it actually happened, it was surprisingly nothing.

Without further hesitation, she threw herself out of the open outer wall of the building.

The outside of the building she had glanced at while pretending to write was endlessly high, suitable for ending her life without regret.

They say your life flashes before your eyes right before you die, but that didn’t happen.

Ridiculously though, Na Eun recalled the following item written in her diary.

Among the few things she wanted to protect as their friend, something close to a resolution.

The fifth thing a civilian friend should have.

If by any chance she becomes a burden, absolutely, absolutely

never hold them back.

[This is the timeline separator]

It was a few minutes after regaining consciousness that she realized she was alive.

After blinking at the ceiling for a while, she heard the sound of the door opening and sensed someone approaching her, making her flinch and shrug her shoulders.

Before closing her eyes, before fainting, her body reacted first in fear of danger, even before properly remembering what had happened to her.

Fortunately, the voice heard from the head of the bed was that of the person she loved most in the world.

“Na Eun, are you awake?”

As soon as she heard her mother’s voice, she realized two things anew. That she hadn’t died. And that she had been safely rescued somehow.

Just before bursting into tears of relief, she urgently asked, not even fully conscious yet.

“Mom, what about Dad?”

Will it be okay? Since I’m alive now.

I jumped trying to die like that, but seeing that I’m alive, the kids must have saved me.

Then our dad will be okay too, right? While wiggling her bandaged pinky finger that had no sensation, she looked at her mother so desperately and briefly stopped breathing.

Soo Hyun was wearing mourning clothes.

“…Mom.”

“It’s okay, Na Eun.”

Na Eun blankly looked up at her mother. Only now did she notice her haggard complexion.

Confirming the growing despair on Na Eun’s face, Soo Hyun hurriedly embraced her daughter.

It seemed like she was supporting her daughter so she wouldn’t collapse, and also trying to hold herself together to not crumble.

“…It’s okay.”

It’s okay. It will be okay, Na Eun.

Not a definite answer, but in her mother’s arms repeating the same words like a spell, Na Eun went limp for a long time, her spirit absent.

[This is the timeline separator]

Seok Hoon’s funeral was held swiftly. The death of a large company’s chairman who passed away in an unexpected traffic accident during a business trip shook the mass media.

Reporters swarmed like a pack of dogs to the funeral hall and the hospital where Na Eun was admitted, and set up camp in front until the day of the funeral procession, ultimately enraging Soo Hyun.

They even made a special news article out of her yelling angrily at the reporters.

The tragedy of a chaebol who was the envy of everyone was too good a prey for people to rip apart.

Calls came from all kinds of newspapers and broadcasting companies, somehow knowing Na Eun’s phone number, and even at the hospital where she had to be admitted for a week for stability, she eventually had to be discharged early.

Nothing was done in the right mind, whether it was hospitalization, the funeral, or discharge.

Soo Hyun, as the mother, was struggling to somehow continue running the company that had suddenly lost the presence of her husband Seok Hoon.

Na Eun, still young, didn’t utter a word of complaint about not being able to step outside the house for nearly 2 weeks after being discharged, in order to be the least burden to her mother in that situation.

There was no point in going out anyway, she would only become prey for the reporters, and she didn’t want that either.

She had to take a leave of absence from school, not long after she had entered.

Just as her mother Soo Hyun had no room to fully feel the grief of losing her husband, the former housewife put on a suit and kept busily going here and there.

To the point where Na Eun, who was stuck at home, could hardly see Soo Hyun’s face even once a day.

And a few days later, her mother Soo Hyun came to Na Eun’s room, packing, and said,

“…I think we might have to move, Na Eun.”

At those words, Na Eun didn’t ask anything. She didn’t even ask where they had to move to.

Even without probing Soo Hyun, she could guess the situation just by watching the news.

With the sudden absence of her father who passed away, there were many people aiming for management rights, and it seemed the saying that a chaebol takes three generations to fall did not apply to her family.

Why was everything suddenly going so badly? Na Eun couldn’t know the exact reason.

Although everything seemed too coincidental and drove the mother and daughter into a corner as if it was a prepared procedure, they couldn’t do anything.

Na Eun remained silent even after momentarily seeing that the room where her mother’s hobby of collecting and displaying bags was empty.

On the day marking a month since she had secluded herself at home, Na Eun packed a modest amount of luggage with Soo Hyun. The move was the very next day.

Even though they hadn’t yet emerged from the grief of losing her father, the mother and daughter had to find a way to live.

Life was so cruel like that.

The day before moving, Na Eun sat on the bed and fiddled with the cell phone in her hand.

Naturally, she had lost the cell phone she had before that incident, and now it was one that Soo Hyun had bought as a temporary measure.

Since all the previous contacts had disappeared, she could only receive contact from some people connected through messenger.

All of them were greetings of concern and worry, but Na Eun was unintentionally unresponsive because she couldn’t easily answer them.

Are you okay? She wasn’t okay.

Has your body recovered? They said her broken fingers would never move the same as before.

Is it true that you jumped from an abandoned building due to the shock of your father’s passing? It’s a lie.

Na Eun was shattered to honestly answer that question that the majority asked.

Still, the reason she checked all those hurtful contacts every time was because there were people she was really waiting for.

[I’m moving.]

Na Eun just posted that short sentence in the group chat room that was always there.

Her friends had come to her father’s funeral.

They said they were by her side when Soo Hyun was devastated after hearing the news of her husband’s death, when Na Eun was unconscious in the hospital.

But Na Eun, who had actually woken up, couldn’t see them.

There was no contact, no reply.

Already used to it, she only stared down at the chat window where the read receipt wouldn’t disappear with numb eyes.

Knock knock. When she was sitting and only looking at her cell phone, someone knocked on the bedroom door.

With all the employed staff long gone, the only one who could knock on her door now was her mother Soo Hyun.

Instead of asking “Who is it?”, Na Eun asked, “Mom, why?” and Soo Hyun, who opened the door, said,

“Na Eun, a friend is here.”

“Seung Joo? Sun Jin?”

If it was a friend who would come in person, it could only be those two.

But Soo Hyun shook her head and smiled a bit awkwardly.

“Hee Won. You know him, right?”

Hee Won? Who’s that? At the name that sounded unfamiliar yet somehow familiar, she tilted her head.

Who is it? As she frowned and made a puzzled expression, a tall man slowly walked in from behind Soo Hyun.

Ah, that person.

Slightly tanned skin with hair dyed a light color. Piercings in his ears.

The moment she saw him, Na Eun recognized who he was and nodded.
So that was his name.
She thought dryly.