The morning after the revelation still hung heavy in the air. Kim Jisoo's palm bore the faint golden mark that spelled Haru's name, and though his expression had returned to its usual coolness, the shadows beneath his eyes betrayed the weight in his heart.
Ryu Saeyoung, on the other hand, seemed more determined than ever. He moved through the lab's main hall with practiced precision, checking his gear and preparing to leave. The faint metallic click of his belt buckles and straps echoed as he adjusted everything in place.
Lee Hana leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, watching him with narrow eyes. "So where are you going exactly? You just woke up from fainting like a log and now you're already running off?"
Saeyoung gave her a faint smile, though it was more fatigue than amusement. "There are… people I need to meet. Allies. The situation outside is not stagnant, and I can't sit idle."
Jisoo, who was arranging some supplies on the counter, glanced up briefly. "You'll need strength to move around."
Saeyoung raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll be fine. This isn't my first time."
But Jisoo didn't answer. Instead, he pulled open a drawer, removed a box, and set it on the counter with a soft clack. His movements were smooth, precise, almost clinical. Hana tilted her head curiously, and even the System, though feigning disinterest, flicked its gaze toward him.
For the next half hour, Jisoo worked silently in the kitchen area of the lab. He moved like someone who had repeated these tasks countless times before, though Hana hadn't expected it. He diced vegetables with sharp efficiency, boiled rice with exact timing, seasoned meat with a careful touch. The aroma began to drift through the lab—savory, warm, and nostalgic in a way that seemed impossible in this sterile environment.
Hana's stomach betrayed her first. It growled audibly, and she flushed red, shooting a glare at Jisoo as if it were his fault. Jisoo didn't comment, but the faintest twitch of his lips suggested he had noticed.
Finally, he packed the food neatly into a metal lunch box, arranging each section with a care that bordered on reverence. He closed the lid, tied it with a cloth, and walked over to Saeyoung.
"Here," he said flatly, holding it out.
Saeyoung blinked, genuinely surprised. "You… made this for me?"
"It's practical," Jisoo replied curtly. "You'll move better with food in your stomach. Consider it supplies, nothing else."
Hana, however, was staring wide-eyed. "Wait—you cooked this? Kim Jisoo, the guy who barely reacts to anything, actually knows how to cook this well?" She sniffed the air, her eyes practically sparkling. "Are you secretly hiding chef-level skills from us?"
Jisoo ignored her teasing. His gaze remained steady on Saeyoung, who accepted the lunch box with a solemn expression. He bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. I'll eat it."
The System sat on a nearby stool, watching with a faint smirk. "I cannot consume human food, but I must admit… your cooking seems to stir unnecessary emotional attachment. Fascinating."
"Shut up," Hana muttered at it, waving her hand dismissively. "You're just jealous you can't taste this."
The System raised an eyebrow, unbothered. "Taste is an inefficient process. Knowledge is far more filling."
"Sure, keep telling yourself that," Hana shot back.
Saeyoung chuckled softly, the tension in the room easing for a moment. But then his expression turned serious again. He looked at both Jisoo and Hana, his black eyes carrying the weight of someone who had seen too much.
"I'll be gone for some time," he said. "While I'm away, I need you both to remain here. Don't wander. Don't investigate. Don't even open the doors unless you must."
Hana frowned. "Why? What's out there?"
"Too much," Saeyoung answered simply. "There are eyes watching this world, waiting for the moment protectors make a move. And there are enemies who know you exist, even if you don't know them yet."
Jisoo's brows furrowed slightly, but he didn't argue. His instincts, sharp and relentless, told him Saeyoung was right.
Hana, however, wasn't satisfied. "So you're telling us to sit here and twiddle our thumbs while you go play hero outside?"
Saeyoung's gaze softened, almost apologetic. "Not playing hero. Surviving. Trust me on this. For the next few days, staying put is the only way to live."
The words carried such gravity that even Hana, stubborn as she was, fell silent.
Jisoo finally spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "You'll come back."
It wasn't a question.
Saeyoung's lips curved faintly. "I'll come back." He tapped the lunch box lightly. "I can't waste your cooking, after all."
Hana rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath. "Unbelievable. Food is what binds men together apparently."
"Shut up, Hana," Jisoo said without heat.
When Saeyoung finally left, the lab felt strangely emptier. The hum of the automatic doors closing behind him echoed through the hall. Jisoo stood there for a moment, his palm still faintly burning with Haru's name.
Hana plopped onto a chair, exhaling loudly. "That guy… he's weird. Too serious one moment, soft the next. And the way he looked at you, Jisoo—like he's known you forever."
Jisoo didn't answer. He simply walked back to the kitchen counter and began cleaning up the dishes, each movement deliberate, almost meditative.
The System observed him with quiet calculation, then spoke. "Ryu Saeyoung is not a simple ally. His presence will complicate things. He carries truths you have not yet earned to know."
Hana groaned. "Can you not sound like a cryptic schoolteacher every time you open your mouth? Just say it plainly for once."
But Jisoo, drying a plate with a cloth, glanced at the System and asked flatly, "What danger will he bring?"
The System tilted its head. "The kind that comes not from enemies, but from truths. Whether those truths destroy you or strengthen you… that depends on you."
Hana sighed, flopping against the table. "Great. More mysteries. Just what I needed."
Later that evening, Jisoo quietly prepared a simple meal for himself and Hana. It wasn't as elaborate as the lunch box he'd made earlier, but Hana nearly melted after the first bite.
"Are you sure you're not secretly a retired chef?" she mumbled around a mouthful of rice. "This is way too good for someone who acts like a stoic robot half the time."
Jisoo glanced at her, his expression flat. "I had to cook for myself since I was twelve. It's survival, not skill."
That silenced Hana for a beat. She lowered her gaze, the teasing dying in her throat. The System looked between them, its childlike face unreadable.
But then Hana tried again, softly. "Still… thank you. It's delicious."
For just a second, Jisoo's lips twitched upward—the faintest hint of a smile, gone almost before it appeared.
Hana froze. "Wait. Did you just—smile?!"
Jisoo didn't respond. He continued eating calmly, ignoring her wide eyes.
The System, however, smirked faintly. "Rare phenomena observed. Subject Kim Jisoo is capable of smiling. Fascinating."
"Ugh, you two are impossible," Hana groaned, but her grin betrayed her amusement.
That night, the lab grew quiet. Hana retired to the room Jisoo had given her, and the System sat cross-legged on the table, humming softly to itself as though reviewing invisible data.
Jisoo stood at the observation window, staring out at the dark city beyond. The sky above was still bright, but he knew it wouldn't last. Saeyoung's warning echoed in his ears.
Don't go anywhere else. Don't open the doors. Survive.
He clenched his fist, the name on his palm glowing faintly in the dim light.
"Haru…" he whispered.
His voice was steady, but his eyes carried the fire of a promise.