By Zephyria 
Haon, who had gone up to the second floor, found where the commotion was headed.
Each time he pushed through the crowd, shoulders brushed against him, clothes were caught and released, and startled eyes flashed past him.
It seemed nothing else was collapsing for the moment, but there were so many people that he couldn’t even get a grasp of the situation.
“Excuse me.”
Haon continued to push through the people and move forward.
The people who had run there first had probably handled things in their own way, but Haon felt he could only be at ease if he saw for himself.
“Sorry, excuse me.”
He finally reached the center of the commotion. There was nothing on the floor.
Only the source of the loud crash he had heard was lying alone, rolling on the floor.
It wasn’t a wall, but a temporary, movable partition that had been set up in the corridor near the exhibition hall.
It was a structure where two panels with wheels were set up in an ‘L’ shape to guide the flow of people, and it seemed those two panels had gotten tangled and fallen over.
For a partition, it seemed quite heavy.
If someone got crushed under something like that, a bone would probably break.
“I’ll help hold this.”
As Lee So-yul stepped forward, others began clinging to the panel one by one. They seemed intent on standing it up on one side first.
Perhaps the brake securing the bottom of the panel had come loose; the wheel rolled slightly, causing the attached acrylic sign to shake with a clatter.
“Be careful.”
One hook came off and the acrylic fell. Shattered acrylic pieces flew up and grazed someone’s ankle. Someone reflexively screamed.
A chill ran down Haon’s spine.
What if Cha Jeong-won was also hurt because of that partition? He hurriedly looked around.
He wasn’t there.
Was he inside?
The moment Haon tried to enter the exhibition room, a hand reached out from beside him and suddenly grabbed Haon’s arm. Pulled by the strong grip, Haon reflexively turned his head.
Only after seeing the familiar wrist and knuckles did the tension leave him.
It was the person Haon had been so anxiously searching for: Cha Jeong-won.
That hand pushed through the crowd and pulled Haon to a less crowded spot.
“Sunbae!”
Haon called out in a lowered voice.
Thank goodness. Really, thank goodness.
A sigh of relief escaped first. Then, because of that relief, heat rushed to his head instead.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? When I saw the acrylic fall over there just now, it looked really dangerous. You’re not hurt, are you?”
Haon grabbed Cha Jeong-won’s arm and looked him up and down.
The end of his shirt sleeve was slightly wrinkled, and a thin scratch was visible on the inside of his palm. It wasn’t bleeding, but the red line was distinct.
The moment Haon saw that line, his face stiffened.
“Your hand is hurt.”
“It’s nothing.”
Cha Jeong-won answered indifferently. That indifference irritated Haon even more.
Haon took a breath in and then let it out. His voice came out trembling more than he himself was surprised by.
“What do you mean, ‘nothing’? You sent me away saying you’d be alone, and then this happens. See, you should have stayed together. Why did you send me away?”
It sounded both worried and resentful.
Haon couldn’t stop his own words. When he thought Cha Jeong-won might be hurt, he probably wouldn’t forget what he felt the entire way running over.
Along with the fact that this feeling wasn’t the end, but the beginning.
Cha Jeong-won looked Haon up and down once, then began to speak.
“Yoon Haon.”
“Yes.”
“Hold my hand.”
“What do you mean, hold hands in this situation…”
As Haon trailed off, Cha Jeong-won took Haon’s hand and placed it on his own palm.
“Is this why you’re a talisman?”
Haon’s body instantly stiffened rigidly. A single word tossed out so indifferently felt like a sharp poke to the nape of his neck.
Why is he saying that here? Haon blinked.
Cha Jeong-won’s voice was still calm, but that calmness seemed even more dangerous.
It was that person’s characteristic expressionless face that made it impossible to tell if it was a joke or serious.
“Sunbae, why are you saying that now?”
When Haon looked up, Cha Jeong-won had already averted his gaze.
After checking the commotion once, he gripped Haon’s arm more firmly.
It was more of an action to pull him out rather than drag him along.
He seemed to be trying to get Haon away from the accident area.
“Come with me. If you stay here, you’ll get involved again.”
“I get involved because I want to get involved?”
“Yeah.”
“When did I ever get involved like that…”
As Haon muttered lowly, Cha Jeong-won moved the corner of his mouth just a tiny bit. It looked bitter for a smile, and a bit too light for a frown.
Cha Jeong-won led Haon to the narrow staff passageway beside the corridor. The noise decreased noticeably.
Only then did Haon feel like he could breathe properly. His heart was still beating fast, but he seemed to be calming down a bit.
On the floor of the passageway, a thin piece of clear tape was rolling around, as if someone had hastily cleaned up. Haon’s gaze fell there for a moment.
On the tape, a single character was written shortly in black marker. It was ambiguous whether it was an ‘S’ or a ‘ㅅ’.
Did a staff member drop it while working? He was a bit curious, but Haon had no time to spare for such a piece of tape right now.
Cha Jeong-won stopped walking and turned around.
“I’m fine.”
Haon spoke first. Cha Jeong-won looked at Haon once and then approached without a word.
The distance was too close.
“Your hand.”
“You saw it earlier.”
“I’m looking again.”
Haon looked at the hand Cha Jeong-won held out. It was clear the bleeding had stopped, but it seemed a scar would remain. He bit his lip hard, then lifted his head toward Cha Jeong-won.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?”
“It doesn’t hurt.”
“That’s a lie…”
Haon couldn’t even finish his sentence and just exhaled. Then, suddenly remembering what Cha Jeong-won had said earlier, his eyebrows furrowed.
“But what was that earlier?”
“What.”
“The talisman thing.”
Cha Jeong-won blinked for a moment. Then he chose to speak very nonchalantly.
“Looks like this happened because you weren’t here.”
Haon was so dumbfounded he almost let out a hollow laugh.
He wondered who was being blamed now.
But the moment Cha Jeong-won’s gaze swept over Haon once more, he realized. Cha Jeong-won was calming Haon down with wordplay.
“And I got less hurt because I smelled your scent.”
This time, Haon lost.
“Next time, even if you want to be alone, don’t send me away.”
Cha Jeong-won gave a short nod.
“Got it.”
“Really.”
“Really.”
Only then did Haon let out a long sigh.
“Your face is too pale today.”
At those words, Haon’s mouth shut. As if everything that had been spilling out was a lie, he couldn’t say anything.
“I… I mean.”
He thought everything was fine now, but when Cha Jeong-won pointed it out, his body trembled again as if it were a lie.
Cha Jeong-won pulled Haon’s waist with one hand. As soon as they were close enough to share breath, he kissed Haon.
It wasn’t a soft, confirming kiss, but a desperate one, as if something else would happen if he didn’t hold on right now.
Haon’s eyes widened and he froze, but only for a moment. Cha Jeong-won’s lips brushed roughly, dug in a little deeper, their breaths tangled. In the meantime, Haon instinctively grabbed onto his clothes.
The sentence he was about to ask, “Why are you doing this?” melted away on the tip of his tongue.
When Haon tried to pull his head back to catch his breath, Cha Jeong-won held him tighter. The hot breath that rose near his nape shook Haon once more.
After tangling like that several times, Cha Jeong-won was the first to pull his lips away. At that moment, Haon saw that Cha Jeong-won’s gaze was more subdued than he had thought.
Eyes that seemed not shaken, but rather sorted out. That made him even more uneasy.
“Yoon Haon.”
Cha Jeong-won called out lowly. Haon’s throat was choked up, so he just nodded.
Cha Jeong-won brushed Haon’s chin upward very briefly and spoke.
“Was all of it—you touching me, holding me, kissing me—a calculated result?”
It was a cold question, making the heat of the kiss just moments ago seem colorless.
Was the talk about talismans and such a trap all along?
“Tell me. Are you really not a talisman my mother sent?”
Cha Jeong-won’s sharp gaze swept over Haon’s face.
He was bringing up his mother again, convinced that the reason Haon was reaching out was connected to his misfortune.
Haon’s eyebrows furrowed deeply.
If he missed this moment, the misunderstanding would solidify.
“Me? What would I calculate?”
Haon shook his head urgently. His voice rose slightly.
“I didn’t know either. Really.”
84 – NOT 84