Chapter Text
For centuries, angels had watched over humanity from the shadows, their presence hidden in the folds of time. The human world, full of bustling cities and silent countryside, was a vast, chaotic web of existence that no one—except the angels—truly understood. While humans went about their lives, unaware of the celestial guardians above them, the angels had quietly shaped the course of history, gently guiding their charges, protecting them from unseen forces, and intervening when necessary. But the most curious part of all was that the humans—unaware of their otherworldly protectors—were completely oblivious to the magic and the divine that thrummed just beneath the surface of their reality.
The Celestial Realm was the birthplace of the angels, a place that could never be fully understood by the human mind. It was a realm of contradictions—endless and vast, yet as intimate as the deepest of dreams. It was a place where time itself twisted, stretched, and folded like a delicate fabric, where days could pass in mere moments and yet stretch on for eternity. The world had no sun, no moon. Instead, the skies were forever painted with the soft glow of an ethereal light, the stars above swirling like tiny, radiant jewels suspended in the heavens. The air itself seemed to shimmer with magic, a gentle pulse, a heartbeat that echoed throughout the land.
From a distance, the Celestial Realm might seem to be a place of quiet calm, a land of soft light and peaceful stillness. But beneath the tranquility, a great order reigned. The buildings in the sky were impossibly tall, their alabaster columns reaching toward the heavens, crowned with intricate carvings that depicted the history of the angels’ creation. The structures themselves were alive with divine energy—shifting, expanding, contracting in harmony with the flow of celestial currents. Each building served a purpose, each hallway, each chamber, had a meaning. This was no ordinary city; it was a manifestation of perfect order.
At the heart of this world stood the Bureau of Protection, where the angels—those tasked with safeguarding humans—were trained, given their assignments, and taught the ways of divine intervention. The Bureau was a sprawling complex, filled with shimmering corridors and expansive chambers that stretched into infinity. The walls, a gleaming white, were translucent, glowing faintly with the light of distant stars. Even the floor beneath their feet seemed to pulse with life, a soft hum vibrating through the air.
Angels, like Seokmin, could glide through the corridors with ease, their wings unfolding in smooth, fluid arcs, catching the faint light as they soared. The wings themselves were a radiant white, the feathers soft yet strong, a symbol of their celestial power. Each angel’s wings were unique, but all were beautiful in their own right, a reflection of the purity and grace bestowed upon them by their divine creators.
But the most striking thing about the Celestial Realm was its silence. No footsteps echoed in the halls, no voices raised in anger or joy. The only sound was the soft, ethereal music that seemed to emanate from the very air itself—an ever-present hum that resonated with the divine rhythm of the universe. It was a perfect, pristine place where the only rule was order. And yet, as perfect as it was, there was one thing missing from the angels’ world—their connection to the humans they watched over.
For the angels, it had been this way for millennia. Their task had always been clear: protect the humans, guide them when necessary, but never interfere too directly. The world of humans was chaotic, unpredictable, and full of hardship. But it was also beautiful. The angels could never experience life in the same way that humans did—they could not feel the weight of mortality or the weight of love, nor could they understand the complexities of human emotions. They were mere watchers, guardians cloaked in the veil of invisibility, pulling strings from behind the scenes, guiding, influencing, but never directly participating.
The Bureau of Protection was a place of meticulous bureaucracy, the heart of which was a large chamber known as the Hall of Assignments. In this room, angels gathered to receive their missions. The walls here were lined with long rows of golden scrolls, each containing the history of every human the angels had ever watched over. The air was thick with the hum of celestial magic, the vibrations of power that carried with them the weight of eons. Every angel knew their task: to be assigned to a human and protect them, to watch over them quietly and without notice.
Angels would spend their entire existence in this hall, waiting for their time to come. For most, the process was simple: an assignment was given, they would carry out their duties, and once their time was complete, they would return to the Bureau, having completed their mission. But for Seokmin, today was different. Today, he was about to receive his first assignment, his first real task as a guardian angel.
He had always felt different from the others—lighter, freer, and much more excited about the task at hand than his colleagues. While the angels around him focused on their paperwork, their assignments, Seokmin could only think of one thing: the human world. The humans they protected, the lives they shaped, the emotions they could never fully understand.
Unlike his colleagues, who adhered to the rigid structure of the Bureau, Seokmin often found himself lost in thoughts of adventure. His wings fluttered restlessly behind him as he wandered through the Bureau, eyes darting to every new angle and every new sight. There was something about the idea of watching over a human that thrilled him to his core. He had always been fascinated by them—their unpredictability, their passions, and their fears. And now, for the first time, he would be part of their world. He would be assigned to someone.
As he strolled through the Bureau, his wings fluttering with barely contained excitement, he was the epitome of everything the Celestial Realm wasn't. His wings—soft, white feathers that had been meticulously groomed for eons—flapped with an air of joy, as though he had just been told that the whole of the human world awaited his arrival with open arms. His halo, a radiant ring above his head, wobbled slightly as his giddiness caused him to fidget. Seokmin’s carefree smile, full of unrestrained enthusiasm, would have been endearing if it weren’t for the loud flapping of his wings that echoed throughout the otherwise quiet Bureau.
“Seokmin,” Joshua’s voice rang out from behind a desk, as calm as ever, his eyes warm yet tired. He was the first one Seokmin approached, his closest superior in the celestial hierarchy.
Seokmin’s eyes sparkled as he approached Joshua. "Joshua! You won’t believe it—today’s the day! My first assignment as a guardian angel!” He flung his arms wide, as though he were about to announce some monumental achievement. Joshua simply chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“I know. I’ve been given the honor of assigning you to a human,” Joshua said with a smile that seemed to hold a mix of pride and quiet amusement. “You’re going to be watching over someone very special, Seokmin. His name is Chan.”
“Chan,” Seokmin repeated thoughtfully, his voice full of curiosity. “What’s he like?”
Joshua tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth curving into a knowing smile. "That’s for you to discover. The important thing is that you’ll protect him, guide him from afar. Make sure he’s safe. Keep him happy."
Seokmin nodded eagerly. "Got it. Protect, guide, and make him happy. Simple enough!” He grinned again, and Joshua’s eyes softened. It was clear Seokmin’s enthusiasm would be both a blessing and a curse.
Before Joshua could add anything further, another voice interjected.
"He's going to need a lot of guidance," came a sardonic drawl. Jeonghan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an exasperated but amused expression on his face. "He can’t just wing it, Joshua. You might want to lay down some actual rules before he goes off and tries to charm the human with magic.”
Seokmin’s face lit up. "Oh, come on, Jeonghan! Where’s your sense of adventure?" he asked, shooting his superior a mischievous grin.
"Adventure is fine until you end up blowing your cover because you thought it would be ‘romantic’ to fly your human to the moon,” Jeonghan shot back, unfazed. "Remember, we’re not supposed to make ourselves known."
“Ah, but you know Seokmin,” Joshua interjected lightly, his voice serene and full of good-natured tolerance. “He doesn’t always follow the rules, but that’s part of what makes him so... special.”
“I’m special?” Seokmin beamed, his chest swelling with pride.
Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "You're special, alright. Special in a way that will likely give Seungcheol more paperwork than he’s already drowning in.” He paused for effect. “And don’t even get me started on the ‘advice’ you’ll be getting from Mingyu and Minghao."
Seokmin’s eyes glimmered with excitement at the mention of his best friends. "Mingyu and Minghao are the best! They’ll help me out, I’m sure of it."
Joshua chuckled softly. “You’ll need all the help you can get. You’re going to need a lot of patience, Seokmin. Chan’s life won’t always be easy, and you’ll have to be careful about how you influence him. He needs to make his own decisions."
Just as Seokmin was about to ask another question, a hologram shimmered to life in the air, displaying the image of Chan—looking young, innocent, and just a little awkward in an oversized hoodie, surrounded by friends. Seokmin blinked, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of him. The way Chan laughed, that infectious joy—it tugged at something deep inside Seokmin, though he quickly dismissed the feeling.
“He’s... he’s cute,” Seokmin muttered under his breath.
Joshua, whose sharp eyes had caught the flicker of emotion, smiled knowingly. “Don’t let your feelings get in the way of your mission.”
“Of course not,” Seokmin replied quickly, shaking his head. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince Joshua, or himself.
At that moment, the door to the office swung open again, and Seungcheol, the head of the higher-ranking group, walked in with a mountain of paperwork in his arms. He gave Seokmin a brief look, exhaling with exaggerated exhaustion.
“Seokmin,” Seungcheol said, his voice heavy with the weight of responsibility. “You ready to go? I’m sending you down to Earth now. Remember the rules. Follow the guidelines. If you mess up... well, just don’t.”
Seokmin saluted dramatically, his wings flaring out behind him. “Got it, boss!”
As Seokmin left the office, he was met by Mingyu and Minghao. Mingyu bounced up the moment he saw Seokmin approach, his face lighting up with excitement. “So? What’s the big news?” he asked, his voice loud and boisterous, as always.
Minghao, ever the calm one, simply raised an eyebrow, giving Seokmin a questioning glance. His wings, darker than Seokmin’s, fluttered softly as he waited for an explanation.
Seokmin took a deep breath, looking between the two of them. “I... I got assigned to protect a human.”
“A human?!” Mingyu’s voice shot up an octave. “That sounds so fun! Do you get to be all mysterious and protective, like in those stories?”
Seokmin laughed, the tension in his chest easing a little. “Well, they did say no flashy tricks, so I guess I’m just supposed to be... normal? A bit of a letdown, huh?”
Minghao’s lips quirked into a small smile. “It’s not about being flashy, Seokmin. It’s about being there when they need you. You’ll figure it out.”
Mingyu immediately clapped his hands together. “Okay, but listen—what if you just accidentally tell them you’re an angel? It’ll be so cool! Just imagine—”
“Mingyu,” Minghao said firmly, “let him do things his way. He’ll find his own balance.”
Seokmin chuckled, appreciating the support. “Yeah, I guess I’ll figure it out. But I’m kinda nervous... What if I mess up?”
“You won’t,” Minghao said quietly, his tone calm and reassuring. “You always find a way.”
Mingyu nodded eagerly. “Exactly! And hey, if you mess up, I’m sure we can make it a bit... dramatic!”
Seokmin grinned but turned thoughtful. “So... I just watch over him? That’s it?”
“Pretty much,” Minghao confirmed. “But it’s more complicated than it sounds. Humans are unpredictable, and you’ll have to make split-second decisions about when to interfere and when to let things play out.”
Seokmin nodded slowly, processing their words. Just then, Mingyu nudged him excitedly. “Oh, oh! Look, they’re letting you see your human now!”
A golden shimmer filled the air, and suddenly, Seokmin found himself looking at Chan for the first time. The mortal world unfolded before him like a painting, and in the center of it all was a boy—his human.
Chan was laughing, his face bright with joy as he played around with his friends. There was an energy about him, something vibrant and warm. Seokmin didn’t know why, but he felt... drawn in. Like Chan was a melody he had always known but never heard before.
Minghao studied Seokmin’s expression and raised an eyebrow. “You look weirdly fascinated.”
“What? No,” Seokmin said quickly, shaking himself out of his daze. “He just seems... lively.”
Mingyu smirked. “Sounds like someone has a favorite human.”
Seokmin scoffed. “That’s not a thing.”
“Oh, it’s a thing,” Minghao muttered. “And it usually leads to trouble. Seokmin, remember: being a guardian angel isn’t about just making an impression. It’s about making a difference in his life. You’ll need to be subtle. Follow the rules.”
Seokmin smiled and nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude toward his two friends. They had been with him through thick and thin, always there to offer support, even if it was in very different forms.
Seokmin rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny that there was something about Chan that intrigued him. He brushed the thought aside. He had a job to do, and that was all that mattered.
Their conversation was interrupted by a signal from above. It was time for Seokmin to descend to the mortal world and begin his mission. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, wings folding behind him as he prepared for the journey.
As the portal to the human world opened before him, Seokmin hesitated for a brief moment, his heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. The cool, crisp air of the Celestial Realm gave way to the humid, noisy world of Earth—a stark contrast to the peace and order of home. Seokmin blinked rapidly as he stepped through the ethereal threshold from the celestial realm to the human world. It was always a strange experience, one that never failed to send a shiver down his spine. One moment, he was surrounded by soft, glowing light—endless clouds and soft whispers of celestial beings. The next moment, everything shifted. The air was thicker here, colder, more real.
He squinted at the sky above, where the moon hung high, casting a pale glow over the city. It was different from what he was used to. The stars seemed closer here, yet the sky was still distant. There was no infinite sea of light, no soft, welcoming hum. Instead, the sounds of bustling cars, distant chatter, and the occasional honk of a horn filled the air. The scent of fresh rain mixed with the faint, lingering scent of exhaust fumes. The world felt... busy, alive. And, for some reason, it made Seokmin feel small in a way he hadn't expected.
For a brief moment, he hesitated.
His wings fluttered uncomfortably behind him, drawing the slightest attention from the few pedestrians who passed by. He quickly folded them tighter, but still, he felt like everyone could see him—like he didn’t belong here. The human world was overwhelming, and Seokmin couldn’t help but feel the weight of his new responsibility creeping in.
His thoughts raced. What if I mess this up? What if I fail?
But then, like a sudden breath of fresh air, his focus shifted. He took in a deep breath, feeling the cool night air fill his lungs. No. He wasn’t just here to observe. He was here to help. He had a job to do. This wasn’t a mission he could mess up, not when Chan’s safety was at stake.
“Alright, Seokmin. No turning back now,” he muttered to himself, standing straighter and shaking off the moment of uncertainty. He had a job to do, and nothing was going to stop him. Not even his overwhelming self-doubt.
His wings felt oddly heavy, as though the weight of the world below him was pressing down on them. He stood in awe for a moment before shaking himself out of his reverie. This is what I was born for, he thought, stepping into the chaos of the human world. I’ve got this.
And then, in true Seokmin fashion, he tripped over his own feet, nearly tumbling face forward into the ground before regaining his balance.
Through the other side of the portal Mingyu howled with laughter. Minghao sighed. Joshua, Jeonghan, and S.Coups, watching from afar, exchanged knowing glances.
“This is going to be a disaster,” S.Coups muttered.
Jeonghan just smiled. “Oh, definitely. But it’ll be entertaining.”
“Seokmin! You’ll be fine, just be you and remember that we’ll be watching so if you ever need help or screw up we will come to you.” Joshua said and gave Seokmin a warm smile as the portal shrunk to nothing and closed.
And with the portal closed, Seokmin vanished into the human world, completely unaware of just how much chaos he was about to bring into Lee Chan’s life.
This was it. His first day on the job as a guardian angel. He was supposed to be inconspicuous, subtle, and—above all—normal. Easy, right? It was just about following him around and making sure nothing bad happened. How hard could that be?
But of course, Seokmin wasn’t exactly known for being “normal.” In fact, he had a rather alarming habit of being... extra when the situation didn’t demand it.
“Alright, Seokmin,” he muttered to himself, pumping himself up. “Just blend in. Do not make a scene. No grand gestures. Just... be cool.”
Of course, fate had other plans.
As Seokmin was stepping out of the alley to find Chan, he noticed a bicycle coming straight toward him—fast. He barely had time to react before the rider, a teenager with messy hair, swerved, and in his panic, clipped Seokmin’s wing.
A sharp whoosh of wind followed by a loud “Ow!” echoed through the street. The teenager stumbled backward, arms flailing in the air before he fell off the bike completely, hitting the sidewalk with an embarrassing thud.
Seokmin stood frozen, wings flared out at a full 90-degree angle, completely visible to anyone in the immediate area. His eyes widened as he quickly tried to retract them, but—
“Holy...!” the teenager gasped, staring up at him in awe, wide-eyed. “What... are you?!”
Seokmin blinked rapidly. Crap. This was bad. His wings were glowing slightly, reflecting the light of the nearby streetlamps, and there was no way to pretend he was just some guy with a weird fashion sense. His face flushed with panic.
The teenager slowly backed away, eyes still locked on Seokmin's wings. “Are you, like... an angel?” he whispered, eyes darting to the ground. “Am I gonna, like... die now or something?”
Seokmin’s mouth went dry. This was not happening. Why does this always happen to me?!
He forced a smile, an awkward, wobbly thing that clearly wasn’t helping. “Uh... I’m just... a very... um, a very angelic person. You know, like... really good vibes. Nothing to worry about, just... go on with your life. Totally normal, right? No big deal.”
The teenager stared at him, still frozen in place, before his eyes grew impossibly wide. “No, no way. Wait—this is for real? Like in those angel movies? You’re an actual angel?!” He started backing away slowly, still eyeing Seokmin like he was about to take off into the sky at any moment.
Seokmin’s face went beet red. “Uh, yeah! Uh, you know what? Just forget you saw anything, alright? Everything’s fine! Totally normal... uh, human stuff happening here! Yeah!”
“Wait a second, you’re one of those cosplayers aren’t you. That makes so much more sense, sick outfit by the way.” the teenager said and without a second glance hoped back onto his bike and rode off.
As Seokmin stood there, heart hammering in his chest, he watched the teenager speed off, clearly still unsure of what had just happened. He stood frozen in place, the air around him suddenly feeling a little too cold for comfort. His wings fluttered nervously, still glowing faintly from the streetlights, casting a soft halo-like glow that was definitely not “normal human stuff.” He quickly tried to fold them back, but his panic was working against him, and they barely budged.
What was he supposed to do? He could hear the faint rush of wind and the distant hum of traffic, but for a moment, everything around him felt impossibly still. The bustling human world seemed to be watching him, waiting for some grand gesture, some sign that he was more than just a flustered angel in an unfamiliar world.
Then, as if sensing his internal chaos, Seokmin took a slow, shaky breath. He closed his eyes for just a moment, trying to center himself. His first mission, his first day, and he was already making a fool of himself. Typical. Great start, Seokmin, he scolded himself internally. He had been so excited to finally get his assignment, but now? Now, he was certain that the teenager—who had just thought he was a cosplayer, thank goodness—would never forget the ‘angel’ he’d just encountered.
With his wings now slightly more under control, Seokmin tried to shuffle toward the edge of the alley, hoping to hide his wings as much as possible. He needed to find Chan. His charge. The whole reason he had even crossed over to this noisy, chaotic world. Chan—where is he? Seokmin’s mind raced, and he glanced at the time on his celestial wristband. He wasn’t exactly sure how it worked here on Earth, but he was pretty sure time was a little different on both sides of the portal. That teenager had thrown him off for longer than he cared to admit, but the most important thing was to stay focused. Stay on task. Find Chan.
Seokmin took a deep breath again, willing himself to calm down, but then, as if the universe had decided to add insult to injury, his stomach gave an ominous growl. He winced, clutching at his stomach. This was a nightmare. His wings weren’t the only thing that needed attention—he hadn’t eaten anything since the angelic breakfast hours ago, and whatever snacks they served in the Bureau were hardly substantial.
Trying to ignore the pang of hunger, Seokmin pulled up his hood as best he could, hoping to shield his glowing wings from view as he wandered deeper into the city streets. The streetlights above flickered like tiny stars in the night sky, casting long, stretching shadows. People passed by, some in pairs, some alone, all talking or laughing or too absorbed in their own lives to notice the flustered angel stumbling around like a confused tourist.
Just as Seokmin rounded the corner of the street, he caught sight of someone—him. Chan. There he was, standing outside a coffee shop, earphones in, casually kicking a stray rock on the sidewalk. His back was turned to Seokmin, but it didn’t matter. Seokmin’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if the moment had been pulled together by some invisible thread, drawing him toward the human standing in front of him.
There was something magnetic about Chan, an aura that felt familiar, even though they’d never met. A pull that Seokmin couldn’t explain, but he knew that it meant something important. The way Chan’s hair ruffled slightly in the wind, the gentle curve of his lips as he absentmindedly stared at the streetlamp—it all felt like the pieces of a puzzle that Seokmin hadn’t even realized he’d been looking for.
For a long moment, Seokmin froze, trying to figure out what to do next. Was he supposed to approach him? Just... follow him? What was the right move? His job was simple, right? Protect him. Keep him safe. Be there if anything went wrong. Yet, standing there, Seokmin couldn’t shake the strange flutter in his chest. It wasn’t just about responsibility anymore. There was something else—something that made his heart beat just a little bit faster.
He was still standing there, lost in the tug of something unexplainable when the ground beneath him betrayed him. His foot caught on a loose stone on the sidewalk, and before he could do anything to stop it, he was stumbling forward, wings snapping out behind him with a force that nearly knocked him off balance.
Oh, no.
With an embarrassing gasp, Seokmin reached out and collided with the back of Chan’s shoulder.
“Ah!” Seokmin yelped, quickly stepping back. “Sorry! I didn’t— I wasn’t—” He raised his hands, trying to calm the situation down. His wings were flared out completely, glowing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp. This was a disaster.
Chan whipped around at the sound of the collision, his wide eyes locking onto Seokmin. For a split second, it felt like time itself slowed, and Seokmin could see the confusion flicker in Chan’s expression. He knew exactly what was about to happen, and he wasn’t sure how to stop it.
And then—nothing. Chan just blinked at him, his expression scrunching in confusion.
“Oh, uh... I’m so sorry about that!” Seokmin scrambled for words, attempting to retract his wings as quickly as possible, but they didn’t cooperate. “I’m not usually this clumsy.”
Chan tilted his head, his gaze flicking down to Seokmin’s glowing wings, then back to his face. He raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slight smile. “You good, man? You kinda look... I dunno, like you just walked out of a movie or something.”
Seokmin’s breath hitched, his brain scrambling for a response. A movie? What kind of movie would this even be? “Uh, yeah, totally! You know, uh... I get that a lot. I’m just, uh... really into... dramatic entrances.” He chuckled awkwardly, forcing a smile that was probably a little too wide.
“Uh-huh,” Chan replied, his eyes scanning Seokmin curiously. “Well, I guess you’re one of those... super stylish people, huh?” He glanced at Seokmin’s wings again, then shrugged, as if trying to make sense of it in his own way. “Not gonna lie, that’s some next-level cosplay, though.”
Seokmin’s face flushed red. “Cosplay?” He chuckled nervously, his wings twitching. “Yeah, you could say that.”
Chan continued to stare for a moment longer, but instead of retreating or panicking, he took a step closer. “Okay, so... what’s the deal? You just... walking around like this, or what?”
Seokmin stammered, trying to think of a plausible excuse. “You know... it’s just—well, you could say I’m... here to help.” He shrugged lightly, hoping it was vague enough to pass.
“Help with what? Are you, like, some kind of superhero?” Chan laughed, clearly still trying to wrap his head around this bizarre situation. “Like, do I need help or something?”
Seokmin opened his mouth to respond, but the words got caught in his throat. What was he supposed to say?
“Uh, no, nothing like that!” he said quickly, fumbling over his words. “I’m just, you know... I like to make sure people are... alright. Like, if you need directions or something—” He laughed awkwardly, gesturing to the street as if trying to look casual. “I’m just a guy who’s... looking out for you, I guess?”
“Okay, now you’re really giving me mysterious stranger vibes,” Chan joked, grinning. “But I’m not mad at it. Guess it’s not every day you run into someone like you.”
Seokmin chuckled nervously, nodding. “Yeah, it’s not exactly my normal look, either.” He forced another smile, trying to be as disarming as possible. “But, hey, I’m harmless.”
Chan’s smile softened, his gaze finally relaxing a little. “Well, alright then. Not gonna lie, you’re definitely a bit of an enigma, but... I guess we all have our quirks, huh?” He tilted his head, looking at Seokmin with a hint of amusement. “Nice to meet you... uh, I don’t think you ever actually said your name?”
Seokmin’s mind raced for a moment, caught off guard by the question. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d been too busy trying not to mess things up. “Oh! Right. My bad. I’m... Seokmin.” He offered a somewhat awkward but sincere smile. “Just... Seokmin.”
“Well, Seokmin, I guess I’m Chan,” the other guy said, his smile widening into a grin. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting to meet someone like you today, but I’m not complaining. I mean, who else can say they met a guy with... glowing wings?”
Seokmin laughed, his heart still racing a little. “Yeah, well... it’s a very rare special talent. You’re not likely to see me again anytime soon, don’t worry.”
Chan shrugged nonchalantly. “I dunno, I’m kinda hoping you’ll be around. You seem like you could make a pretty cool friend... mysterious glowing wings aside.”
Seokmin’s chest fluttered at the unexpected warmth of Chan’s words. He could feel that strange, unfamiliar pull again—stronger now. But instead of speaking, he simply nodded, trying to keep it together.
“Well, it was nice running into you, Chan,” Seokmin said, smiling brightly. “I’ll... see you around, okay?”
“Yeah,” Chan replied, still smiling. “See you around, Seokmin.”
And with that, Seokmin took a step back, carefully retreating down the street, heart pounding with both the uncertainty of his mission and the undeniable feeling that his journey had just begun.