Ryujin is given a glimpse into a different life — one where she chose herself over the stage. But as fragments of her real memories begin resurfacing, the line between reality and desire slowly begins to break apart. And the more she falls in love with this life… the harder it becomes to leave it behind.
She didn’t hate it, that was the strange part. Nothing felt wrong or out of place. The music hit where it was supposed to, the timing lined up the way it always did, and every movement followed through exactly how it was practiced. It was clean and right, but it also felt empty. Ryujin caught her reflection mid-turn, her body finishing the motion before her thoughts did. There was nothing off about it. No mistakes to fix. No reason to stop. Yet, she did.
“…Again?” someone asked from behind her. She didn’t answer right away. Just stood there, staring at herself like she was expecting something to change if she waited long enough. “No,” she said finally, stepping back from the mirror.
It wasn’t exhaustion. She wasn’t tired. If anything, her body still felt ready to go again, like it always did. Like it was trained to. That was the problem, everything felt automatic. “Unnie?” She glanced to the side, someone waiting, expecting her to lead like she always did. Fix something. To say something, to do something.
Ryujin just shrugged lightly. “Take five,” she said. No one questioned it. They never did. She grabbed her jacket without thinking too much about it, slipping it on as she walked out before anyone could say anything else. The door shut behind her with a soft click, cutting off the music like it didn’t matter anymore.
The hallway was quieter, too quiet. Ryujin just kept on walking. She didn’t have anywhere to go. No plan. No reason. Her steps just carried her forward, hands tucked into her pockets as she moved like she’d done this a hundred times before. The air outside felt colder than she expected. She didn’t stop.
The streets weren’t busy. Not empty either. Just… there. People passed by without looking twice, conversations blending into the background in a way that didn’t ask for attention. It was easy to disappear into it. Ryujin let out a quiet breath, her shoulders relaxing without her noticing. “…This is better,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t know why she said that.
There wasn’t anything better about it. Nothing had changed. It was just a different place, same night, same her and yet— it felt lighter. Ryujin slowed her pace slightly, glancing around like she was expecting something to stand out. Nothing did. Just buildings, dim lights, the usual late-night quiet settling into the city.
For no reason, she stopped walking; or maybe there was one. “Have I been here before?” The question came out without much thought, her gaze drifting across the street like something was supposed to answer her.
Ryujin tilted her head slightly, “…Huh, weird.” She should’ve turned back. There was practice. Schedules. People waiting. Things she was supposed to do. She didn’t move. A second passed and then another, nothing pulled her back. Ryujin exhaled softly, shifting her weight before turning—not toward where she came from, but further down the street instead “Whatever.” It wasn’t a decision. Not yet but it was enough.
She kept on walking. She didn’t know how long she’d been walking. It wasn’t far. It just felt like it.
The streets got quieter the further she went. Fewer people. Fewer lights. The kind of place no one really paid attention to unless they were already looking for it. Ryujin slowed when she noticed the sound. Not music. It wasn’t loud enough for that. Just… something steady.
A faint rhythm slipped through a partially open door along the side of a building. It wasn’t meant to be heard from outside, but it was just enough to catch her attention. She stopped, not because she was curious. Just because she didn’t feel like moving yet. Her eyes lingered on the door for a second longer before she reached for the handle and pushed it open without thinking too much about it.
The air inside felt different and the sound became clearer. The sound of footsteps moving in a rhythm, but it was only from one person. Ryujin stepped in quietly, the door shutting behind her with a soft click that barely echoed through the space. It wasn’t big. Just an open floor, mirrors lining one wall, dim lights overhead that made everything feel a little more distant than it actually was.
And in the middle of it— someone moved. It didn’t look rehearsed nor did it look like the movements were being polished. It was just movement. Ryujin didn’t say anything. Didn’t step forward either. She just stood there near the entrance, watching without announcing herself. There wasn’t anything special about it. No sharp precision. No need to impress. But it didn’t feel empty— that was the part she noticed. The movement didn’t look like it was trying to be anything, it just was.
The music cut off before she realized it had been playing at all. The room went quiet. “You’re blocking the door.” The voice came without much reaction behind it. Ryujin didn’t move right away “then tell me to move,” she replied, just as flat. A beat of silence passed. “…Move.” She huffed a quiet breath through her nose, not quite a laugh, before finally stepping further in and letting the door clear behind her. “Better,” she said. He didn’t respond to that. Just walked past her without much thought, reaching for his phone to replay the track. The screen lit up briefly before the same rhythm filled the room again. Ryujin leaned back lightly against the wall, arms folding as her gaze drifted back to him.
He didn’t ask why she was there, didn’t tell her to leave either. Just kept moving like she wasn’t something that needed to be acknowledged. “You always dance like that?” The question slipped out before she thought about it. He didn’t even stop to look at her. “Like what?” he asked. She tilted her head slightly, watching him finish a turn before answering. “Like no one’s watching.” Another pause.
“Did it look like that to you?” No change in tone or reaction. Ryujin let out a quiet breath, her head leaning back against the wall as she stared at the ceiling for a second. “…Yeah.” That didn’t feel like the right answer, but she didn’t correct it. The music kept going. So did he and for some reason— she didn’t leave.
The music looped again. Ryujin didn’t keep track of how many times. At some point, she stopped pretending she was just passing through. Her arms dropped from where they were folded, pushing herself off the wall to get a closer look, just close enough to become an observer.
He didn’t acknowledge it. Keeping the same rhythm and movement from how he started. the same pace and still unbothered. “So do you come here often?” She didn’t look at him when she asked it. “Sometimes”. Ryujin glanced over, watching him finish a sequence like it didn’t require any effort at all. “That doesn’t answer anything.”
“It wasn’t supposed to.” he responded quickly without intention to keep the conversation going, Ryujin huffed softly through her nose, something close to amusement this time. “Right.” Silence settled again— not awkward. It was the kind of quiet that didn’t need to be filled. Ryujin shifted her weight slightly, eyes tracing the mirror without really focusing on her reflection this time. “You’re not very talkative.” He slowed just slightly, not stopping.
“You’re still here.” That made her pause. “…So?” “So you don’t seem to mind.” he replied without thinking. She stared at him for a second longer than necessary. “You always this annoying?” “Sometimes.” Hearing him say that almost made her laugh, almost. Ryujin looked away again, letting out a quiet breath as her shoulders relaxed without her noticing. “Weird.” “What is?” She didn’t answer right away. Because she didn’t really have one. The music cut again this time he actually stopped, but not because of her. Just because he was done.
He walked over to the side without looking at her, grabbing a towel and running it lightly over the back of his neck before reaching for a water bottle. Ryujin watched him from where she stood, head tilting slightly “You don’t ask questions.” He took a sip before answering “No”. Curiosity getting the better of her “Are you this anti-social or do pretty girls like me leave you breathless?”
He lowered the bottle, glancing at her briefly for the first time since she walked in. Not curious. Just acknowledging.
“You’d answer if I did?” eyeing Ryujin out from head to toe, stopping at her eyes. She held his gaze for a second before looking away. “…Probably not.” she smirked. “Then there’s no need to ask” he went back to drinking his water.
Ryujin exhaled softly, shifting her stance before approaching center of the room Her steps were slow, unhurried as she moved toward the spot. He didn’t stop her, yet he didn’t move either. He just watched her approach him. She didn’t say anything before stepping into the open space.
The music wasn’t playing anymore. Still— she moved, not clean or sharp like any of the choreographies she spent hours drilling into her body. She just moved in a different from the dance she practiced earlier, less controlled but more primal. Her reflection caught in the mirror again, but she didn’t focus on it this time. No correction or checking any of her movements— she just kept going.
A step, a turn, something slightly off— she didn’t fix it. That was new. The movement slowed on its own before stopping completely, her breathing steady as she stood there for a second longer than she needed to. “Something tells me you haven’t let loose like this in a long time.” His voice cut through the quiet. Ryujin glanced over her shoulder “You were watching?” She turned fully this time, one brow lifting slightly “Thought you said you don’t ask questions.”
“I didn’t.” “…Then what was that?” “A statement.”
She stared at him for a second “You’re annoying.” He could only smirk “Only when I want to be.” There it was again. Ryujin let out a quiet breath, shaking her head slightly before stepping back toward the edge of the room.
“…You got a name?” “Kang Min-jae.” She nodded once. “Shin Ryujin.”
Both acknowledged the name, no reaction or recognition. Acknowledgement was enough. Then music started again. And this time— She didn’t stand by the wall to wait or watch. The music settled into the space again, softer this time. Ryujin didn’t rush into it. She just stood there for a second, letting the sound sit before moving. No counting. No markers to hit. Just instinct.
A step forward, a shift in weight. Nothing precise and it didn’t bother her. Min-jae didn’t say anything either. He just leaned back slightly against the wall this time, watching without looking like he was paying attention.
During her show of movements, Ryujin was caught of balance with a simple question, “You always do that?” His voice cut in, casual. Ryujin didn’t stop moving “Do what?”. Min-jae leaning on the wall this time “Walk into places like you belong there.” That almost threw her off. Almost. “I didn’t say I belong here.” she replied. Min-jae “You didn’t have to, and I never said that you never belonged here.”
She slowed, glancing at him briefly before turning away again “…You’re assuming a lot.” A brief silence before telling her “Not really.” The kind that lingered just long enough to feel intentional. Ryujin exhaled quietly, her movements losing even more structure the longer she kept going. It wasn’t better. Just easier. Her foot dragged slightly off-beat. She didn’t fix it. “You don’t correct yourself.” She stopped this time “…What?” Min-jae pointed out “You messed up.”
Ryujin stared at him for a second. “And?” “Nothing. You kept going.” Min-jae shrugged.
That didn’t sit right. “You’re not gonna say anything?” He shrugged his shoulders, “I just did.”
“That wasn’t—” she stopped herself, exhaling softly through her nose. “…You’re annoying.” “Only when I want to be.” There it was again. Ryujin shook her head slightly, stepping back and running a hand through her hair. “You always dance like that too?” He tilted his head slightly “Like what?” “Like it doesn’t matter.” A beat passed. “It doesn’t.” She frowned slightly at that “Then why even do it?”
He didn’t answer right away. Just pushed himself off the wall and stepped back into the space, the music still playing low in the background. “Same reason you walked in.” That— she didn’t have an answer for that. Her gaze followed him as he moved again, slower this time. Not performing. Not practicing, just existing in the moment.
Ryujin leaned back slightly, watching without realizing she had stopped thinking about leaving completely. No checking the time, her phone sat in her pocket— untouched. There was probably something on it. Messages. Schedules. Something she was supposed to do. She didn’t reach for it.
“You always this quiet?” She didn’t look at him when she asked “Sometimes.” “That’s not an answer.” ““Didn’t say it was supposed to be.” She let out a small breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. “…Right.” Another pause. Longer this time.
Ryujin pushed herself off the wall again, stepping forward without saying anything this time. Her movements weren’t mirroring his nor following. He didn’t stop her. They moved in the same space without syncing, without clashing. Separate but not disconnected— it was a new feeling. Ryujin slowed after a while, her breathing steady as she came to a stop again. She didn’t look at the mirror this time.
You’re not going back, are you?” The question slipped out before she thought about it. He stopped. Not abruptly, he just paused. “To what?” She opened her mouth but there were no words that followed. For a second, something flickered. A room, music, movement— gone just as quickly. “Nothing,” she said instead. Min-jae didn’t press. Ryujin looked away, her jaw tightening just slightly before she exhaled again. It didn’t feel wrong. That was the part she couldn’t figure out and for some reason— she didn’t try to fix that either.
The music faded out again, but this time neither of them moved to restart it. The room stayed quiet, the kind of quiet that didn’t feel empty—just settled. Ryujin didn’t step back, and Min-jae didn’t move either. Not watching, not avoiding, just… there. A second passed, then another, and even when she shifted her weight slightly like she was about to move, she didn’t.
“You always stop like that?” Ryujin asked, her voice quieter than before. Min-jae glanced at her briefly before answering, “Only when there’s nothing to follow.” That answer lingered longer than it should’ve, enough for her to tilt her head slightly as she studied him again.
“You don’t try to fix anything,” she said, not as a complaint—just something she noticed. Min-jae shrugged lightly. “Does it look like it needs fixing?” She didn’t answer right away, because for once… it didn’t. That was new. Ryujin exhaled quietly, something in her shoulders loosening without her realizing it. “Huh… Strange.”
She didn’t step away. If anything, she stepped closer—just enough to make the space between them feel smaller, not enough to call attention to it. Min-jae noticed but didn’t move to close it or create distance. He just let it be.
“You’re not going to say anything?” she asked. “About what?” She gestured vaguely between them. “This.” A brief pause settled between them before his gaze met hers properly this time—steady, not questioning. “You’re still here.” That again. But this time, it landed differently. Ryujin held his gaze a second longer than she meant to before answering, “…Yeah, I am.” No follow-up, no reason—just that.
Her hand moved before she thought about it, not reaching fully—just brushing against his wrist again. Testing. Waiting. Min-jae didn’t pull away, didn’t react like it was something new. His hand shifted slightly, not grabbing—just meeting hers where it was. Her fingers settled properly this time. No hesitation. No second guessing. “You always like this?” she asked quietly. “Like what?” “…Like nothing bothers you.” Min-jae following her gaze. “That’s not it.” She waited, and he didn’t rush to explain. Then— “You just don’t do anything that needs reacting to.”
That made her pause. Not because it surprised her—but because it made sense. Ryujin let out a quiet breath, her grip shifting slightly—not tighter, just more certain. “…That’s better,” she murmured under her breath, but the words stayed. Min-jae didn’t ask what she meant, he already understood.
The silence returned, heavier this time—not empty, just… settled. Ryujin stepped closer again, and this time there wasn’t really any space left. She didn’t stop herself, didn’t look away. Her gaze stayed on his, steady—like she had already decided something she didn’t feel the need to explain. “You’re sure about this” he said. Not challenging, just checking. Ryujin huffed softly through her nose. “…You’re still asking?” A beat passed before he leaned his head slightly. “…No.” That was it. Her hand slid from his wrist, slower this time—not leaving, just changing where it rested. Closer. More intentional. The distance between them disappeared without either of them acknowledging it, no buildup, no hesitation—just movement. And for once, Ryujin didn’t stop to think about it. She didn’t need to.