Mina's P.O.V.

The shrill chime of my alarm clock broke through the serenity of my dreams, nudging me into the light of a new day. Stretching lazily, I reached for my phone, my heart already racing in anticipation. There it was—a message from my idiot cub:

"Good night, my ballerina."

A soft smile crept onto my lips. It wasn't a grand declaration, but it was everything. His words had a way of wrapping around me like a warm hug, even through the cold glow of a screen.

Shaking off my lingering sleepiness, I headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The cool water washed over me, invigorating me for the day ahead. By the time I descended the staircase to join my family for breakfast, I felt ready to face anything—or so I thought.

"Good morning, my princess!" Dad greeted with his usual cheer. "How was your school trip?"

I hesitated for a moment. Memories of the trip—of stolen glances, secret smiles, and heart-pounding confessions—rushed back to me. But those were mine to treasure, not to share. "It was good," I replied casually, offering my best neutral smile. "I had a lot of fun."

Satisfied with my answer, Dad turned his attention back to his meal. To divert any probing questions, I quickly asked, "Where's Kai?"

Mom chimed in, "He came home late, around two in the morning. He left early again, said he needed to work on some documentation at the library."

My heart sank. I could piece together what likely kept him out so late. Those bullies—they wouldn't stop tormenting my brother until someone put them in their place. This wasn't just schoolyard cruelty anymore; it was a vendetta because of me. Jo Hyuk and his group had transferred their frustration onto Kai.

By the time I reached school, I was fueled by equal parts anger and determination. My steps were brisk, my expression fierce. The whispers in the hallways were instant. Students stepped aside to let me pass as if I were royalty.

One boy, who often wore a dopey grin whenever I was around, tried to approach me. I silenced him with a sharp glare, and he wisely retreated. I didn't have time for distractions.

The hallway buzzed with whispers, snippets of conversation floating past me like fragments of a puzzle I was desperate to piece together. "Did you hear about Jo Hyuk's friends?" one voice murmured. "Kicked out of school. Total disgrace."

"They were caught running down Khao San Road completely naked," another added with a mix of amusement and disbelief. "Drunk out of their minds. Can you believe it?"

"They're saying the school expelled them immediately. No warnings, no second chances."

I paused mid-step, pretending to adjust the strap of my bag as I listened closely. My pulse quickened as the story unfolded.

"They were under the influence," someone whispered conspiratorially. "What a humiliation for their families! One of them won't even leave his house anymore. The others have moved away—somewhere rural where no one knows them."

I blinked, processing the weight of what I'd just overheard. Jo Hyuk's group—the ones who had tormented my brother—were gone. Their actions had finally caught up with them, and their downfall was as swift as it was public.

A surprising mix of emotions churned within me. Relief surged at the thought that Kai wouldn't have to endure their cruelty anymore. But underlying that relief was a twinge of guilt. Should I feel glad about their humiliation? Should I celebrate their downfall, even if they deserved it?

Still lost in thought, I continued to the library, where I knew Kai would be. I found him at his usual spot, hunched over a stack of books and scribbling notes in his meticulous handwriting. His expression was calm, and his posture relaxed. For the first time in weeks, there was no shadow of worry etched across his face.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I watched him from a distance. He looked... at peace. I decided not to disturb him, knowing how much his work mattered to him. Quietly, I turned and headed back to my classroom.

Inside the classroom, the chatter about Jo Hyuk and his friends continued. Unable to resist, I approached a group of my classmates and asked casually, "Is it true? About Shin's friends?"

They nodded enthusiastically, eager to share the latest gossip. "Oh, it's true," one of them said, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "Everyone's talking about it. Total humiliation. They're done for."

"And Jo Hyuk?" I asked, keeping my expression neutral despite the flicker of curiosity in my voice.

"He's still in the hospital," another classmate replied. "But word is he hasn't said a thing about who beat him up. Probably too scared."

Their voices dropped to a whisper as they continued. "The rumor is that the people who attacked them are from Suzuran University."

My heart stopped. The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold and trembling. Suzuran?

The very name sent a chill down my spine. Everyone knew Suzuran's reputation. It wasn't just a school—it was a breeding ground for delinquents. Students there weren't just rowdy; they were dangerous. My mind raced with a single, terrifying thought: What if Chaeyoung had crossed paths with them?

A wave of unease settled over me. I couldn't shake the image of Chaeyoung—my sweet, playful, utterly lovable Chaeyoung—encountering the same fate as Jo Hyuk's group. My hands clenched into fists at the thought. I needed to warn him.

The hours dragged on until lunch. My appetite was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of urgency. Then, my phone buzzed—a message from him.

"I'll pick you up after school," his message read.

Relief flooded through me. At least I'd see him soon. I needed to know he was safe, to warn him about what I'd heard.

After school, I spotted him standing near the gate, As always, he stood out—dressed in his Suzuran University uniform immediately drawing wary glances from my classmates. Despite the space they gave him, he stood there nonchalantly, his usual goofy grin ready to greet me. He wasn't some fearsome delinquent. He was just my idiot cub, the boy who always made me laugh.

Poking his cheek to get his attention, I teased him, "Daydreaming again?"

He turned, his face lighting up at the sight of me. "Where to, my ballerina?" he asked.

We decided on a quaint café near Patravadi Theater, where I had performed before. As we walked toward a nearby café, I told him everything. The rumors about Shin, the expulsion of his friends, and the speculation about Suzuran students being involved.

His expression shifted from shock to unease as he processed the information. "Suzuran? Are you serious?" he asked, his voice low.

I nodded, my own anxiety mirrored in his wide eyes. "You need to be careful," I said, my voice firm. "You don't know who you might run into at your school. I don't want you getting hurt."

He scratched the back of his head, clearly shaken. "We try to avoid fights as much as we can," he muttered. 

Relief mingled with pride as I listened to him. Chaeyoung wasn't like them. He wasn't violent or reckless. He was sweet, kind, and cautious—everything I needed him to be.

"Good," I said softly, linking my arm through his. "Promise me you'll keep it that way."

"I promise," he replied with a small smile.

For now, that was enough.

The café was lovely, and our conversation flowed as easily as the laughter that followed his silly jokes. But Chaeyoung wasn't done showing me his world.

He took me to Khao San Road, where the streets buzzed with life. Food stalls lined the sidewalks, the scent of grilled meats and sweet desserts filling the air. I couldn't help but feel wary, knowing what had happened here last night.

Noticing my unease, Chaeyoung stopped and gently smiled at me, while his thumb brushed my hand. 

We sampled every kind of street food we could find—spicy noodles, skewered meats, and even bizarre delicacies. Chaeyoung, being the playful idiot he was, bought a fried spider just to tease me, chasing me around until I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe.

It was moments like these that reminded me why I fell for him. Beneath his mischievous antics was a heart so full of love and kindness.

By the time the sun set, we were both exhausted but happy. Walking hand in hand, we made our way to my house.

As we stood by the gate, Chaeyoung looked at me with a soft smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, my ballerina," he said.

"Good night, my idiot cub," I replied, watching him disappear down the street.

Turning toward my house, I paused to glance at my brother's room. The lights were still on, and I could see his silhouette bent over his desk. For once, there was no tension in his posture, no shadow of fear.

It seemed like the tides were finally turning for all of us. And for that, I was deeply, endlessly grateful.

...

Months had passed, and here we were, celebrating our first year of love—a milestone that felt as if it had come in the blink of an eye. Time had a way of speeding by when you were truly happy, and with Chaengie, happiness seemed effortless. Over the past year, our bond had only grown stronger. Every shared moment deepened our connection, and every memory felt like a treasure I wanted to hold close forever.

To mark the occasion, we decided to revisit the place where it all began: Chiang Mai and the magical Floating Lantern Festival. This time, though, everything felt different—not because the lanterns were any less enchanting or the atmosphere any less surreal, but because we were in a new chapter of our lives. Unlike the tentative beginnings of our love story, we were now secure, steady, and—most importantly—accepted.

Chanda no longer had to sneak me home or keep our meetings a secret. Our relationship was no longer something we whispered about in the shadows but something we celebrated openly. My parents had grown to admire and care for Chaeyoung, while his sister welcomed me with warmth and approval. Even my brother, Kai, who had once been so reserved and distant, had found a friend in Chaeyoung.

Their friendship was something I could only describe as miraculous. Kai, who had always been the shy, introverted type, was now thriving in ways I had never thought possible. He was no longer the solitary figure I'd often find reading alone in the library or avoiding large groups. Now, he had a wide circle of friends, and to my astonishment, he had joined the university football team.

Watching him on the field, running with confidence and laughing with his teammates, filled me with pride. It was a transformation I hadn't anticipated, and I knew Chaeyoung had played a pivotal role in it. Somehow, my idiot cub had managed to bring Kai out of his shell, showing him a world where he could belong and thrive.

"How did you do it?" I had asked Chaeyoung once, curious about his secret.

He had just shrugged, his signature mischievous grin playing on his lips. "I just treated him like I treat you—with care and a little push when he needed it. Kai's a great guy. He just needed someone to remind him of that."

My heart swelled with gratitude, and I couldn't help but wonder how I'd been lucky enough to find someone like him.

Months had passed, and here we were, celebrating our first year of love—a milestone that felt as if it had come in the blink of an eye. Time had a way of speeding by when you were truly happy, and with Chaengie, happiness seemed effortless. Over the past year, our bond had only grown stronger. Every shared moment deepened our connection, and every memory felt like a treasure I wanted to hold close forever.

To mark the occasion, we decided to revisit the place where it all began: Chiang Mai and the magical Floating Lantern Festival. This time, though, everything felt different—not because the lanterns were any less enchanting or the atmosphere any less surreal, but because we were in a new chapter of our lives. Unlike the tentative beginnings of our love story, we were now secure, steady, and—most importantly—accepted.

Chanda no longer had to sneak me home or keep our meetings a secret. Our relationship was no longer something we whispered about in the shadows but something we celebrated openly. My parents had grown to admire and care for Chaeyoung, while his sister welcomed me with warmth and approval. Even my brother, Kai, who had once been so reserved and distant, had found a friend in Chaeyoung.

Their friendship was something I could only describe as miraculous. Kai, who had always been the shy, introverted type, was now thriving in ways I had never thought possible. He was no longer the solitary figure I'd often find reading alone in the library or avoiding large groups. Now, he had a wide circle of friends, and to my astonishment, he had joined the university football team.

Watching him on the field, running with confidence and laughing with his teammates, filled me with pride. It was a transformation I hadn't anticipated, and I knew Chaeyoung had played a pivotal role in it. Somehow, my idiot cub had managed to bring Kai out of his shell, showing him a world where he could belong and thrive.

"How did you do it?" I had asked Chaeyoung once, curious about his secret.

He had just shrugged, his signature mischievous grin playing on his lips. "I just treated him like I treat you—with care and a little push when he needed it. Kai's a great guy. He just needed someone to remind him of that."

My heart swelled with gratitude, and I couldn't help but wonder how I'd been lucky enough to find someone like him.

The Floating Lantern Festival was as breathtaking as I remembered. The night sky was alive with the soft glow of thousands of lanterns, each carrying a wish, a hope, or a prayer. As we stood side by side, Chaeyoung handed me a lantern, the warmth of its flame reflected in his eyes.

"Ready to make your wish?" he asked, his voice soft and full of affection.

I nodded, but instead of looking at the lantern, I looked at him. "I don't think I need to wish for anything," I said.

He tilted his head, curious. "Why not?"

"Because everything I've ever wished for is standing right here beside me."

His cheeks turned a shade of pink that made my heart skip a beat. He reached for my hand, intertwining our fingers as we released the lantern together. It floated upward, joining the sea of glowing lights above us, and for a moment, the world felt infinite.

Later that evening, as we walked through the lively streets of Chiang Mai, Chaeyoung pulled me into a quiet corner, away from the crowd. His playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something more serious, more intense.

"Thank you," he said suddenly, his voice steady and heartfelt.

"For what?" I asked, surprised.

"For everything," he said, cupping my face gently. "For believing in me, for loving me, for making my life brighter than I ever thought it could be. You're my everything, and I don't ever want to take that for granted."

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I leaned into his touch. "I should be the one thanking you," I whispered. "You've given me more than I ever thought I deserved. You've made me feel safe, cherished, and... loved."

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close. For a moment, it was just the two of us, the world around us fading into a blur of lights and sounds.

"I hope this lasts forever," I murmured against his chest.

"It will," he promised, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make sure of it."

Looking back, everything felt almost too perfect—like a dream I was afraid to wake from. But this wasn't a fairy tale, and it wasn't a fleeting illusion. It was real, built on love, trust, and the quiet strength we gave each other every day.

As we walked back to our hotel that night, hand in hand, I realized that fairy tales weren't something you read in books or saw in movies. They were something you created, moment by moment, with the person you loved. And with Chaeyoung, I knew our story was just beginning.

It was supposed to be an ordinary day, one that would bring simple joys and shared moments. Kai had asked me to accompany him to the shopping mall to pick out flowers for someone he wanted to court. I was more than happy to help—after all, this was a big moment for my brother. While I didn't let on, I already knew the girl he had his eyes on. Chaeyoung had mentioned it to me in passing once. It was Hyuga's sister, a sweet and charming girl the same as my age. Knowing Kai, I was sure he would give his whole heart to her.

It warmed me to think of my brother experiencing the kind of love I shared with Chaeyoung. There was something poetic about it, as though Kai and I were on parallel paths, finding happiness in unexpected yet beautiful ways. Chaeyoung and I were two years apart, just like Kai and Hyuga's sister. I hoped, deep down, that Kai would have a love story as magical as mine.

At the flower shop, my eyes were drawn to the blue and red salvias. They held a special meaning to me, as they were Chaeyoung's favorite flowers. Every month on our anniversary, he would surprise me with a bouquet, the colors alternating between blue and red.

"Blue Salvia means 'Thinking of you,' and Red Salvia means 'Forever mine,'" he had explained once, his voice soft with affection.

Thinking of Chaeyoung brought a smile to my face. What a sweet and thoughtful boyfriend he was.

As Kai and I browsed through the vibrant floral arrangements, we spotted Momo at the mall with her friends. We called out to her, and she came running toward us, her usual bubbly energy lighting up the space. But her enthusiasm led to a mishap—she accidentally bumped into a man passing by.

The man's reaction was harsh, and his angry shouting echoed in the open mall. Momo quickly apologized, but the man wasn't having it. His voice grew louder, his words more cutting.

We rushed over to her, and I could see Momo trying to keep her temper in check. But the man's aggression didn't stop, and when he shouted at her again, she snapped back, her frustration boiling over.

The man's face twisted in rage, and he raised his hand as if to strike her. My heart froze.

But before his hand could land, Kai stepped in, his fist connecting with the man's face. The man stumbled backward, falling from the impact. Kai turned to us, his face filled with concern, making sure we were all right.

It happened in a flash.

Before any of us could react, the man lunged at Kai, a glint of metal in his hand. The blade plunged into Kai's back, once, twice, over and over. My vision blurred as Kai turned to face his attacker, only to be stabbed again in the abdomen.

I wanted to scream, to run to him, but my body betrayed me. My legs wouldn't move, my voice wouldn't come. The world tilted, and everything went dark.

When I woke up, the sterile white walls of a hospital room greeted me. Chaeyoung was by my side, his face pale, his eyes red and swollen from crying.

I bolted upright. "Where's Kai?" I demanded, my voice frantic.

Chaeyoung didn't answer right away. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly as though trying to shield me from the truth.

"Where is my brother, Chaeyoung? Tell me!"

My mother entered the room, her face lined with grief. She took my hands in hers, her touch trembling. "Mina," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "Kai... didn't make it."

Her words shattered me.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head. "That's not true. He's alive. He's fine. The doctors will save