Chapter 3: Pieces of a Puzzle
Hana couldn't sleep. Not after what she read in Joonseo's diary.
She'd tossed and turned all night, her thoughts spiraling back to the final message scribbled on the page:
"I think it's my last day. Jungho is next. You couldn't save me. I couldn't save myself either. Save him."
By morning, the words still echoed in her ears. She didn't bother with breakfast or changing out of her hoodie. With the diary clutched in her hand and dark circles beneath her eyes, she made her way to Jungho's house.
The taxi dropped her off in front of a sleek black gate. The house was huge—too huge. A modern mansion with sharp lines and tall glass windows, sitting like an art piece in a quiet, posh neighborhood. Everything screamed luxury, but it felt… cold. Not in temperature, but in spirit. Like no one really lived here.
She hesitated, then rang the bell.
Jungho opened the door himself.
He wore a simple black sweatshirt, his hair tousled like he'd just woken up, though it was already past nine. His usual annoyed expression flickered into surprise when he saw her.
"You?" he said.
"I need to talk," Hana replied. Her voice was sharper than intended.
He stared for a moment, then stepped aside.
Inside, the place was spotless. Minimalistic furniture, white walls, black marble flooring. A staircase coiled upward like a spine. It felt like a museum. Too perfect.
They sat across from each other in the living room.
Hana didn't waste time. "What's this?" She slid the diary across the table. It stopped right in front of him.
Jungho's eyes locked on the cover. She watched as his jaw clenched.
"You were the only name in his last message," she said. "So tell me—what does this mean? What is 'K'? What is he warning me about?"
Jungho leaned back and rubbed his face. "You weren't supposed to see that."
"Too bad. I did."
He was silent for a long moment, then finally muttered, "K is… something that was never supposed to leave our school."
She blinked. "Our high school?"
He nodded slowly. "It's a game. No one knows who started it. We just know that once you're dragged in, you don't get out unchanged. They say if you lose, something you love is taken. But no one knows what 'losing' really means. Joonseo… he wasn't the first."
Hana's throat tightened. "And you're telling me this now?"
"You're not in high school anymore, Hana. You're in college. You're safe. Stay out of this."
"I watched someone die," she said, standing up. "I read his words, Jungho. He didn't just die—he was trying to warn someone. That someone was you. And now I'm part of it whether you like it or not. I don't want anyone else to suffer like he did."
Jungho looked at her with something close to fear. "You don't understand what you're getting into. This isn't just a school rumor. It's real. And it's dangerous."
"I'll call you if I need help," she said, grabbing the diary. "But don't try to shut me out."
Without waiting for a reply, she walked out.
The sun was blinding, but Hana's thoughts were darker than ever.
How had she never heard of this game? She'd spent three years in that high school, and yet… not a whisper. Not a sign.
She found herself heading toward the cemetery again.
It felt weird—coming back just a day after her last visit. But she couldn't shake the feeling that Joonseo's grave held more answers.
As she reached the familiar row of headstones, she stopped dead in her tracks.
Someone was already there.
A boy. A stranger.
He stood in front of Joonseo's grave, his hands in his coat pockets, face unreadable.
Tall, with jet-black hair that swayed with the breeze.
Hana's breath caught.
Who is he? And why does he look so familiar?
The wind whispered through the trees, and in that moment, the stranger turned to her.
A flicker of something passed between them—recognition, or maybe fate.
She didn't know it yet, but this was Seojun.
And nothing in her life would be the same again.
Charcter intro :Jeon Jungho
Age: 17
Status: Third-year high schooler Known as the boy with everything-money, brains, looks. But beneath the polished surface lies a soul quietly suffocating under pressure.
Jungho doesn't need friends-his parents can buy them. But what he truly craves can't be bought: genuine connection, freedom from expectations, and peace from a past that keeps chasing him.
He's sharp, observant, and speaks more through silences than words.
People think they know him-rich kid, spoiled, cold. But none of them have ever seen the haunted look in his eyes when someone mentions the name... K.