Jung Yena didn't sleep that night.
She just sat there, cross-legged on the floor of her room, the torn camellia petal in her hand. It had browned slightly with age, pressed into the pages of a forgotten notebook — but still held its shape. Like her grief.
The word on the bloodstained note still echoed in her skull:
Doyun.
Why now?
Why, after three years of silence, did Haejin suddenly ask about that flower?
He used to hate camellias. She remembered — he once told Seri that they reminded him of funerals.
So why was he buying one every night now?
Her fingers brushed the old photo beside the petal — it was faded, torn at the edges. Doyun stood smiling in the rain, umbrella crooked, his arm stretched around someone… someone Yena had cut out long ago.
She closed the box.
---
Morning came, and with it, the hum of flower shop life returning.
Min Seojun was already there, unpacking roses, his sleeves rolled up, smile soft as always.
"You look like death," he said gently, passing her a warm drink.
"I feel worse."
He studied her face — the dark circles, the puffiness in her eyes.
"You had the dream again?"
She nodded.
The one where Doyun's voice called her name from the rain.
The one where he was still alive.
The one where she couldn't reach him.
Seojun hesitated. "Yena… You know you can tell me anything, right?"
Her lips curved into a weak smile. "Even the things that don't make sense?"
"Especially those."
But she didn't tell him.
Because part of her wondered if he'd walk away too — just like everyone else.
---
That afternoon, Haejin returned.
Not at midnight.
Not for flowers.
Just… walked into the shop, hands in his coat pocket, eyes colder than usual.
Yena stiffened. Seojun noticed.
"I'll go grab lunch," Seojun muttered, giving them space.
Alone now.
Haejin didn't say anything for a long time. Just stared at the camellias in the display case.
"You kept it," he finally said.
Yena blinked. "Kept what?"
"That night," he said. "You picked up the petal."
Her blood ran cold.
How did he know?
"I saw you," he added. "Three years ago. In the rain. You were there… after it happened."
Yena's throat closed. Her hands trembled.
Was he accusing her?
Was he remembering something?
"I—I didn't—" she began.
But he turned away. "Forget it."
He left her standing there, knees weak, head spinning.
---
Outside, Haejin lit a cigarette with shaking fingers.
He hadn't smoked in two years.
Not since the night his brother died.
He thought he was imagining things.
But no.
He remembered now.
A flash of a girl in a hoodie.
Tears.
A camellia petal on the ground.
Doyun's voice, screaming.
Yena was there.
She saw everything.
---
Inside the shop, Yena dropped to her knees.
She had buried the past for so long.
But now it was clawing its way back.
And this time, it wasn't going to let her go quietly.