Inspired by the unconventional storytelling of Kaleidoscope, this six-chapter psychological thriller unfolds in any order you choose. While the events remain the same, the sequence in which you experience them will shape your perception—turning the story into a slow-burning romance that curdles into horror, a chilling thriller, a haunting mystery, or something else entirely.
Each chapter is a puzzle piece. You decide how they fit.
So, my friends, read carefully. And remember—just because you see the truth doesn’t mean you saw it coming.
My friends, I present to you, A Bird In Hand.
1.The Idol and the Artist
2.The Old Friend
3.The Vanishing
4.The Gallery
5.The Happy Domestic Life
6.LYN
This list was programmatically generated and may have mistakes and weird formatting.
Miyawaki Sakura
Call Me Back by @jenscx
jang wonyoung smau being the vice-president of the student council, your responsibility is to show new students...
Masterlist ! by @duvetchico
summary-youre-stuck-in-bed-with-a">pluto projector
A Bird In Hand Sakura X Reader Masterlist by @rd0265667
Hong Eunchae
Kim Chaewon
The Only Exception by @tuna-gimbap
synopsis => chaewon wasnt really fond of love to begin with, as she grew up in the shadow of broken love, and she swears to never fall in love only to find one person who changes everything.
. by @jihyoruri
caught in between kim chaewon & huh yunjin ever since iz*one its always been chaewon and yn, so what...
Mutual by @rosiehrsuniversity au
summary in which two exes understand their breakup differently; one thinks it was a mutual decision and the other thinks she got dumped
Tfw! by @sockminzuniversity au
synopsis: average english major, y/n tries to win over her longtime crush, cho miyeon by joining the schools yearbook committee
Bad Idea! by @chaennizhighschool au
summary y/n l/n and kim chaewon have never gotten along well, but what happens when they start seeing a hidden side of each other?
Goal! Chaewon Smau by @pupuyvs
synopsis yoo jihye and her friends are the biggest losers in school. though proud of the title, it seems to bite her when someone decides to sign her up for the schools soccer team as a prank. now forced to play the full season, how will jihye survive, especially when the teams captain is dating...
Candy -> by @the-roo-too
hello :) sorry if you have a lot of requests, but i was wondering if you could do the candy(fluff alphabet) for le sserafim? or...
. . . by @98oceans
welcome to the shoreside wlw centric blog. requests and asks are open. no nsfw,...
Nakamura Kazuha
Enchanted by @silantryoo
synopsis ; instead of following yunjin’s private account, kazuha accidentally follows some random person, someone who went by the name y/n
Attention by @modanisgf
summary you were a regular at your schools cafe, always meeting up with your friends there before class
Sugar by @jenscxcollege au
nakamura kazuha smau when lesserafim's kazuha asks you to tutor her for your upcoming business exam, as her number one...
+ .seraphic Love. by @myuviis
Huh Yunjin
Yunjin X Reader(series): In The Next Life, Or The One After... by @rd0265667
yunjin x reader(series): in the next life, or the one after that
Kpop Masterlist by @bangchansdirty-slut
Materlist. by @jensettermandu
katseye (coming soon) le sserafim a.d.i.d.a.s (all day, i dream about sex) - desperate!yunjin x mean!female reader...
Be Careful With My Heart / Huh Yunjin by @modanisgf
rocco - be careful with my heart yunjin had always eyed the pretty girl on the soccer...
. by @jihyoruri
youtube series huh yunjin a series where a fearnot makes various videos of their favourite ship paring...
Tfw! by @sockminzuniversity au
synopsis: average english major, y/n tries to win over her longtime crush, cho miyeon by joining the schools yearbook committee
Stay Numb & Carry On by @kangshxrtie
. by @jihyoruri
all mine all me huh yunjin x reader i hate your phone, throw it away - kali uchis it was obvious to...
For My Eyes Only by @seullovesme
synopsis you werent necessarily famous or anything to begin with. it was only until after the post revealing your amazing visuals that your socials seemed to grow. it certainly attracted people, maybe even a certain someone and their fanclub.
Seasons Ft. Huh Yunjin by @chaeminnieya
synopsis - * the departure of former member soojin from the departure of former member soojin from (g)idle left netizens and (g)idle members missing soojin, but following soon after you take a hiatus but a week after returning youve got caught in a...
Taylor? by @huopilled
huh yunjin | smau overall: yunjin (a hardcore swiftie) comes across yn (a taylor anti) on twitter under unpleasant...
Et Puis Je T'ai Rencontree... by @yunjinpwr
synopsis : few days after being back from france, you meet up with your friends at university. somehow, an important paper fall from your bag... what will happen when yunjin find it and message you ?
Fanwars by @rosiehrs
summary yunjin (an army) and y/n (a blink) have fallen into the stereotype of not being able to get along, continuously starting fanwars- but only with each other..?
Masterlist by @bvclee
Bound By The Rules Masterlist Smau by @eventuallyaugust
summary: txts oldest member, oh hyunseol just want a peaceful life after pandemic with her members, but it seems like fate wants to shake things up.
N E W J I N S : by @huhjxn
a small world huh yunjin musician & vlogger smau every person have a different path destined for them depending...
Attention, Please! by @xoosocollege au, idol au, school au
summary: ditching her old basic black hair and weird sense of fashion during the summer in hopes of getting the attention of the girl she likes, yunjin soon realizes that it takes more than a major glow up to even do the job
Masterlist by @ningningwinning
synopsis?source=share">bad stuffchapters [1] [2] dog 4 yu(g!p)off beat or on yu jiminjeong:
. . . by @98oceans
welcome to the shoreside wlw centric blog. requests and asks are open. no nsfw,...
Multi
Synopsis by @eunsky
you confessed to your long time crush getting rejected and heartbroken and swore to never have a crush and date anyone.
Library by @modanisgf
shelf one newjeans shelf two lesserafim shelf three katseye misc. works not related to the groups i...
What Are You Searching For? by @silantryoo
Nan by @sereneres
masterlists . newjeans . le sserafim . miscellaneous...
Caught Cheater by @kyujism
synopsis: y/n the little sister of irene was in with the popular kids she had friends. she even had a girlfriend, jang wonyoung. but then appeared this new girl. nakamura kazuha she was a beautiful ballet dancer as she heard. y/n was furious although the new girl found y/n quite cute. what will...
| Notes; Kang Haerin [ Smau ] by @opertabry
synopsis; theres a cute girl that always sleeps in your intro pysch class. she just so happens to be ginger and your dorm neighbor ]
Opertabry; by @opertabry
masterlist;
Best Friends Favour by @phamminji
synopsis: to put it shortly, hanni owes yn a favour. a big favour. and yn is in desperate need of finding a girlfriend (preferably) to finally get her family off her back. so yn approaches her best friend to get that favour settled.
An's Flufftober! by @yerimbrit
synopsis-you-and-your?source=share">cat parents
Riize Don't You Wanna Ride With Me ? "fuck Ot6 by @bambisnc
riize don't you wanna ride with me ? "fuck ot6." ## latest. drive u crazy (things you do that fluster...
. Masterlist by @kiwihrt
enhypen alice in borderland how to train your dragon no longer writing for @ kiwihrt
Loading Data... 100% by @nabipumpum
! le sserafim masterlist sakura miyawaki oneshots series ... kim...
disclaimer: i may throw around some chinese terms but it won’t be much! (i’ll put the meanings in parenthesis the first time it’s mentioned!)
word count: 2.1k
🎵~ love letter — iu
love can be unpredictable at times, but for you? unbelievable.
you ran away to seoul, a cali girl with a dream. you were the asian kid with straight As, a second generation chinese immigrant. ma(mom) and pa(dad) always wanted you to be a doctor or a lawyer, obviously. but you hated it, the speeches, the award shows, you hated the spotlight you didn’t want. you loved fashion. you loved the arts. ma called it stupid, pa called it unrealistic, and jie(older sister) called it self indulgent. one chance, you said, and one chance was all you got. half ride scholarship, ewha women’s university, fashion design.
seoul wasn’t your calling, it was your escape.
you’d made your way to korea, like it was your second home. booked a one way ticket. paid 6 months’ rent up front. got your visa approved in a week. but it wasn’t. it was nothing like home. you miss lizzie, you miss veronica. how could you even catch up with the 16 hour time difference?
“safe flight! — liz🧸🏐”
“buy us gifts! — vee🐝💖”
last seen 3 weeks ago.
~~~~~
you’d sit alone at han river every saturday, in your own thoughts. the cold seeped through your tattered long beach state hoodie, the city lights danced on the waters surface
“was it really worth it?”
you couldn’t say it wasn’t. you couldn’t turn back now. this was your only chance. your final chance.
“fuck off.” you grumbled, staring at the text that just came in.
“you can always come back. — ma”
“jie can get you in to harvard law. — ma”
you ignored it. you had to. you came all the way to seoul just to chase a “self indulgent” dream. you didn’t come to seoul for love, but love always finds its ways.
——— your apartment building, yeonnam-dong. 9:48 am.
you stuffed yourself with the 3000 won tteokbokki from the pocha below your apartment building. made by mrs kim, or “tteokbokki halmeoni”, and your personal therapist.
“halmeoniii~ should i go back to california…” you stuffed another rice cake in your mouth. “like what if im not made for fashion… maybe i should’ve just listened and became a lawyer.”
“lena-ya, you talk too much when you eat.” mrs kim slid another fish cake into my plate. “you already came to korea, just live your dream! and stop asking me the same question everyday.”
she was right, you’ve been asking the same question every morning, for the past 2 years. why look back now? you’ve been studying fashion, maintaining a 3.7 gpa, even started a small fashion business with your seoul girlies. but the messages. from them. your ‘family’.
“you’re making a huge mistake btw. you’re getting nowhere — jie”
“we’re not paying for your tuition fees if you come running back — ma”
“safe flight — pa (2 years ago)”
“halmeoniii if i drop out of fashion school will you take me in…” you poked at your rice cakes, staring at your plate.
“aigoo don’t think about dropping out— STOP BITING MY FOOT!” mrs kim shooed away the stray dog she ‘hated’ but still fed raw beef to. “you’ll do great. don’t drop out yet. how will halmeoni get nice clothes? i’ll be your model, 63 with a great body!” halmeoni did a rather repulsing body shake, you tried not to look. you couldn’t.
your phone buzzed
“samseong station, 11:15! don’t forget! — seo🐰”
oh my god. you forgot. your lesserafim fansign. was TODAY. IN TWO HOURS. AND YOURE IN YOUR PAJAMAS.
“HALMEONI ILL COME BACK LATER!”
“your food! ah never mind” mrs kim picked up the stray dog, and hand fed him raw beef.
——— your apartment. 10:13 am.
you ran up to your apartment, nearly tripping on the nonexistent puddle on the floor. (seriously how?) your apartment is a mess. textiles everywhere. there’s rolls of denim on the couch, chiffon draped over a chair. construction paper all over the floor and calico jammed into your bookshelf like a bad mistake.
your room is clean, like unsettlingly clean from how messy your living room is. there isn’t fabric scissors on the floor, or fabric glue stains everywhere. it’s neat and doesn’t smell like shin ramyun and regret. you fumble in your closet, looking for ‘that’ fit.
your first runway mockup? “too rustic, i hate the stupid texas theme. denim chaps. seriously?”
your first concept piece made real? “i look like barbie threw up pepto bismol. why hot pink??”
then, you found it. your last piece of cali. the piece you bought for ‘seoul winters’ the rib knitted black turtleneck. “perfect.”
you threw on a pair of high waisted jeans and chunky suede platform boots to match. the time? 10:58. you have an hour to the fansign, and 17 minutes to complete a 30 minute trip. seohyun’s gonna kill you. threw an umbrella in your bag, slipped on your puffer coat and sprinted out the door. yes sprinted.
—— samseong station. 11:42 am.
“how are you so chronically late i don’t get it” seohyun would not leave you alone about it. she acts like your mom. “you’re lucky you’re my friend. and pretty. if you weren’t i would be more pissed. sorry not sorry”
it was snowing. like not the ‘oh cute snowflakes snow’ it was so moist. thank god u brought that umbrella.
“okay sorry seo… i’ll get you a drink! you get the wristbands, i’ll go to the gs25” you poked at her arm, like a kid looking for forgiveness. she nodded, you turned away.
you waddled to the gs25 like a penguin, umbrella in hand. the wet snow pelted down. like an artillery assault on the poor umbrella. you nearly slipped on the ice. twice. every little step felt like a risk. your socks were damp. your nose was red and numb, same for your fingertips. should’ve brought gloves.
holy shit. holy fucking shit.
is that sakura miyawaki? trying to cover herself from the wet snow? you rubbed your eyes like you were hallucinating. it was her. you didn’t walk. you didn’t run. you sprinted. across the road, while screaming “unnie! let’s share the umbrella!”
you tried to act natural, act like she wasn’t the bias to end all biases for you. but you were quite literally sprinting across a busy road, into slush, and past a honking taxi.
“oh my god” sakura giggled. she GIGGLED. “you didn’t have to run across the road… that’s dangerous.” she slipped under your umbrella without hesitation, like it was something she did everyday.
“you didn’t bring an umbrella?” sick joke of small talk. you facepalmed in your head. of course she wouldn’t bring an umbrella. what are you thinking. is your brain in airplane mode?
“oh no i didn’t… i was just on a break haha” she giggled. AGAIN. while looking at you. “i have an event starting in abit, you think you could walk me to coex?”
“oh- oh yeah i could!” played it off perfectly. yeah no. your blood pressure spiked, your heart rate flew through the roof. “actually i’m also heading to coex for an event” yeah u were. HER event.
sakura adjusted her gloves, and looped your arm around yours. AROUND YOUR ARM. “oh that’s such a coincidence! hope you have fun!” sakura adjusted your hood. YOUR HOOD. “it got messed up when you ran… you look even prettier now!”
oh my god. “t-thanks.” you glitched. you blushed. she didn’t notice. the sakura miyawaki, just adjusted your hood. and called you pretty. the sakura miyawaki, was also walking with you, down the street. in the pelting rain, under your umbrella.
every streetlight felt miles apart. of course they did, sakura was looped into your arm. and tight. “ah! this is where i need to go! thank you!” she slipped her arm out from yours, gave you a little wave and disappeared into the backdoor of coex mall. holy. fucking. shit.
your phone buzzed. several times.
“HELLO WHERE ARE YOU — seo🐰”
“ITS 11:55 WE’RE GOING IN IN 5 MINUTES — seo🐰”
“4 missed calls — seo🐰”
oh. shit.
you ran to the entrance of coex mall, nearly slipping on the frozen roads. it didn’t matter anyways, if you didn’t die from the ice you would’ve died to seohyuns hands.
“where were you??” seohyun slid the wristband onto your wrist. “you’re damn lucky you’re this pretty i can’t get angry at such a pretty face”
your lips parted, but nothing but air came out. you wanted to tell seohyun about that moment with sakura, but your body didn’t let you. it felt, forbidden. for now, you followed seohyun and the crowd, into the event hall.
——— coex event hall. 12:03 pm.
“girl, they’re so pretty” seohyun could not stop staring. like you didn’t see her blink once.
“i know right… i swear chaewon’s staring at me” you were shaking. fiddling with your bag strap like a nervous toddler.
“shut up miss delusional. and omg it’s our turn soon” seohyun punched your arm, but then grabbed your wrist and pulled you up.
“number 86 to 90 please come up now.” seohyun gripped your wrist so hard her knuckles went white. you stood up, and strutted to the stage like your fashion major legs taught you to. your knees, however, were jelly.
“oh my god you’re that girl from before!” first member. first table. sakura miyawaki. “you’re so pretty! i was telling eunchae about you!!” she’s beaming. her smile could end wars.
“huh?” you blushed. like uncontrollably. you could feel your hands tremble.
“umbrella girl! you saved me from the snow! even ran across the road just for me!” she giggled, leaning in like you were childhood friends while sliding your album over.
she remembered. she fucking remembered.
but, before you could even process this, let alone open your mouth, a staff member dragged you to the next table.
“you’re the girl! the umbrella one! nice to meet you!” eunchae giggled, her smile lighting up the whole event hall. “you’re the one kkura unnie was talking about!
“i-i… i’m lena…” you mustered up all your courage, a sad amount, admittedly.
“hi lena! you saved our kkura unnie!” eunchae was like an unlimited energy source, her happiness radiated throughout the whole hall.
“pretty unnie! let me sign your album!” eunchae snatched your album over lightly. ‘thanks for saving our kkura unnie lena! — hong eunchae’ your brain was short circuiting.
“t-thanks eunchae-ssi” that was all you could muster up, before the staff pulled you over to the next table, to kazuha.
“ah! umbrella unnie?” kazuha scanned you up and down, her face lighting up slowly. “kkura unnie kept talking about you back stage! you’re really pretty!”
“t-thank you kazuha-ssi, y-you’re really pretty too…” lena.exe has stopped responding. you were shaking so bad, you swore your hands had a mind of their own. before you could even get a good grip on your album, the staff member dragged you to the next table.
“don’t catch a cold, umbrella unnie!” kazuha winked. she winked AT YOU.
next table. next member. kim chaewon. “you’re the umbrella girl?” chaewon scanned you like an eagle looking for prey.
“y-yes, chae-chaewon-ssi” you death-gripped your bag strap, like a lost toddler.
“no wonder she kept spiraling over you, you’re pretty. she kept saying ‘i hope she comes to our fansign’ it was funny, i like you.” chaewon winked as she slid your album back to you. she said she liked you. oh my goodness. but before you could even process this, next table, final member. huh. yun. jin.
“ahh oh my god! umbrella savior! you’re so manhwa coded! so pretty too… no wonder kkura’s so whipped over you.” yunjin smiled as she signed your album.
“kkura’s what…?” you blinked, you can’t believe what you just heard.
“nothing!” yunjin winked. and fittingly, before you could even react. before you could even think. your time was up. you got led off the stage. back down to the audience.
you looked at your album like it was a divine artifact. like their signatures were divine scriptures
‘thanks for saving me pretty girl! — sakura’
‘thanks for saving our kkura unnie lena! — hong eunchae’
‘don’t catch a cold! — kazuha’
‘kkura unnie likes you <3 — kim chaewon’
‘umbrella girl! — huh yunjin’
~~~~~
you’re so lucky. and seohyun thinks that too. and she won’t let you live it down.
“you’re so fucking lucky don’t talk to me.” seohyun flicked her hair into your face. “i can’t believe all 5 members of lesserafim called you pretty…”
“i d-don’t even know what to say” you’re still trembling, you’re starstruck. “chaewon said she liked me.”
“gosh i hate you.” seohyun punched your arm. “let’s go for lunch”
—end of part 1—
thanks for reading! i hope you liked it! i’ll try to write part 2 as soon as possible!
A Bird In Hand🌸M.S: Chapter 1, The Idol and the Artist
Masterlist of Chapters: 1~2~3~4~5~6
If you haven't read the masterlist, please do so, there's important context there
The concert was electric. You found it slightly irresponsible for you to do this, using your profits from your, subpar at best, art career to enjoy a concert, but as you looked up at the stage, it all felt worth it.
Thousands of voices rose in unison, swelling and breaking like waves against the pulsing beat of the music. The lights moved in time with the song, flashing between rich hues of violet and gold, illuminating the figure at the center of it all.
Sakura.
She looked unreal—effortless in the way she commanded the stage, every movement precise, every note flawless. She had always been like this, even before the world knew her name. A presence that could swallow the whole room and leave nothing behind but the gravity of her.
But then something changed.
Even through the distance, even through the blinding stage lights and the thousands of eyes fixated on her, you felt the exact moment her gaze found yours.
And then—she stopped.
Not physically—her body continued moving through the routine, every step as graceful and calculated as before. But there was a flicker of something in her eyes, a beat of hesitation.
You barely had time to process it before she smiled.
Not the perfected, camera-ready smile she had given the audience all night. This was something else. Something deeper.
Your chest tightened.
She saw you.
She saw you in a way that felt like she had been waiting.
For you.
And then, as if nothing had happened, the moment was gone, swallowed by the flashing lights and the next verse of the song.
Just as the concert ended, you saw a surly man in a prim and proper suit, in his hand a VIP ticket. Just as he handed it to you, he gestured to the back of the stage.
“She’s waiting for you.” Was all he said.
As you walked, escorted by what was effectively a living wall, you tried to catch a glimpse of the ticket in your hand. It looked a little weird, no doubt Sakura’s hasty string pulling to get you backstage, a VIP ticket once meant for a “Yoonah” now laid in your hands
The air was thick with the lingering energy of the concert—the distant hum of stage crews packing up, the muffled chatter of staff, the occasional clatter of equipment being wheeled down the hall.
But all of it blurred into insignificance the moment you stepped into the dressing room.
Because she was there.
Sakura turned the second you entered, as if she had been waiting for you, and before you could even speak, she was on you—arms wrapping tightly around you, the force of her hug knocking the breath from your lungs.
You barely had time to react before she was murmuring into your ear, her voice quiet, aching.
"You came back to me. I missed you."
Her grip on you tightened for a fraction of a second.
It was overwhelming—the way she held you, like she had been starving for this moment, like letting go wasn’t an option.
You let out a breathless laugh, your heart pounding. "I—Sakura, I didn’t think you’d even remember—"
"Don’t say that."
She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands still tightly gripping your arms.
"Of course I remember you," she said, her voice soft but firm, like the idea of forgetting you was offensive.
Her gaze searched yours, intense in a way that made it impossible to look away.
"You disappeared," she whispered, almost like a quiet accusation.
You swallowed. "I—"
"I waited. I’ve missed you for all these years." Her fingers tightened slightly where they rested on your wrist. "I kept thinking you’d come find me."
Your chest ached at the way she said it—like the absence of you had hurt. The way she said it, made your chest hurt too, a heaviness that seemed borne of guilt.
"I thought about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a breath. "I just… I didn’t think you’d have time for me anymore. You’re THE Sakura"
Her expression darkened, almost imperceptibly.
"You’re mine, I’d always have time for you," she murmured, her thumb brushing absently over your wrist.
The words sent a shiver through you, but before you could fully process them, she was smiling again, softer now, a little sad.
"You should have come sooner, I missed you," she murmured, almost like she was chiding you, but her tone was warm. "But I won’t let you leave me again."
Her fingers were still twined with yours.
"You won’t, will you?" she asked, her voice low, her breath warm against your skin.
You felt your pulse quicken.
"I—"
"Say you won’t," she pressed gently, her lips curving, her eyes locking onto yours.
Your heart stuttered.
"I won’t."
Her smile widened, her grip just a little tighter.
"Good."
You didn’t remember falling asleep.
Your mind had been a storm of thoughts, heart racing—memories, the weight of Sakura’s touch, the way her presence filled every space in the room, in your thoughts, in you.
And then—your phone buzzed.
You blinked in confusion, barely processing the glow of the screen before your breath caught in your throat.
No sender.
A single image.
It was you.
Asleep.
Your blood ran cold.
A second message followed.
"Stay away from what’s mine."
Your breath came too fast, too sharp, panic creeping under your skin.
Your fingers trembled as you tapped Sakura’s contact.
She answered on the first ring.
"Sakura—" Your voice was barely steady. "I—I don’t know what’s happening, I—, someone se-"
"Send it to me," she said immediately.
You fumbled, forwarding the message.
A pause.
The silence stretched.
Then, a slow exhale.
"Baby," she murmured, voice soft, soothing, as if you hadn’t just sent her something terrifying, as if this scenario had played out before. "You don’t have to be afraid."
You swallowed hard. "But—"
"I’ll handle it."
Her voice was calm. Freakishly calm, a calm you appreciated, like an anchor in rough waters, her voice was the only thing keeping you from sinking to the depths.
"You don’t have to do anything," she continued. "Just trust me, okay?"
The way she said it left no room for anything else.
You hesitated, still shaken. "Sakura, this—this is serious, someone—"
"Close your eyes," she said gently. "Close your eyes and breathe."
You realized your hands were shaking.
You took a breath.
Then another.
"You did great," she praised. "Now listen. I’m here. No one’s going to touch you. No one’s going to hurt you. Do you believe me?"
Your chest rose and fell, heartbeat still unsteady.
But even as children, Sakura had always protected you. It wouldn’t change now.
"I… I believe you," you whispered.
"That’s my baby."
The words settled around you, a quiet finality to them.
And just like that, the fear wasn’t as sharp.
You weren’t alone.
You had Sakura.
Sakura was safe.
The next morning, a bouquet arrived at your door.
Peonies. Hydrangeas. Roses.
No note.
But you knew.
Your phone buzzed. A message from Sakura.
Did you sleep well, baby?
A pause.
Then another message.
You don’t have to worry anymore. I’ll take care of everything.
If you haven't read the masterlist, please do so, there's important context there
The day began like any other. You woke to an empty bed, cocooned in sheets, with air the familiar scent of Jasmine and Sakura. As you winced, the morning glare hitting your eye, you sit up, noticing a letter on Sakura’s side of the bed.
Holding it close, you smiled as you took in the scent of Sakura’s perfume, still lingering on the letter
Hey baby, couldn’t make breakfast for you this morning, the girls wanted to meet earlier all of a sudden, I hope you understand. Love you so much! Be good for me, alright darling? ♡
There it was, written in Sakura’s beautiful Cursive, she always thought of everything. You caught yourself smiling, absentmindedly tracing the words on the letter as you made yourself breakfast. Looking around the house that Sakura had built, it was perfect. You breathed a light sigh of content as you sipped on the tea.
The apartment gleamed. It always did. The floors were smooth beneath your bare feet, the air carried the crisp scent of freshly washed linens, and the steady hum of the washing machine filled the space, rhythmic, predictable.
A home should always be clean.
Sakura liked things neat. Ordered. Perfect.
It was a good thing you did too.
You worked through the apartment methodically, straightening cushions, wiping down counters, folding laundry into crisp, even stacks. Each motion was smooth, automatic. You knew how Sakura liked things—where the cups should go, how the blankets should be folded, the exact way to tuck in the corners of the bedsheets. They always made sense. It was the way Sakura liked things.
Your hands slowed as you reached the end of the hall.
The door at the far end remained shut. Locked, as always.
Not locked, you thought. Huh?
The door at the far end, the stalwart in your constant life, now found itself slightly agape, and the air in the room seemed…colder, unnatural.
You should turn around, leave it, every sense screams at you to turn around. Sakura said it was just storage for useless things, so you going in would be redundant. Why would she lie to you?
Still, as if driven by some inhuman force, you took a step forward into the hole in the wall. Then another. Then another. The room was a stark contrast to the perfection you knew. It was messy—papers, boxes, and clutter scattered everywhere. It looked like an office trying—and failing—to be hidden. Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze swept over the disarray.
Sakura had never been disorganized. So why was this room like this?
You hesitated but smiled a little, despite the disarray. It was unlike Sakura, sure, but there was a clear explanation. She must have left it here by mistake. You turned away, but not before you catch a glimpse of familiarity at the table. You smile, it was the scrapbook you and Sakura had made together as children, with pictures of scraped knees, missing teeth, pictures of picnics under the sun and secret forts under the trees. Sakura had told you she misplaced it by accident, she must have left it here by accident.
You smile, reaching for it, as you sit at a nearby desk, the unlit husk of a computer the only other thing on the table.
The scrapbook… it felt heavier than you remembered. Thicker, as if something had been added to it. A strange, cold shiver trickled down your spine. You brushed the thought aside. It had been years, your memory was just failing you.
You feel a warmth bundle up in your stomach as you flip the first page open, seeing the scrapbook the way you recall leaving it.
There you were—two silly children, arms wrapped around each other, smiling with the pure, innocent joy of childhood. You felt warmth rise in your chest. This was the beginning of everything. This was the start of your beautiful life with Sakura.
You slowly flip through the scrapbook, reminiscing every picture, still remembering the exact day you and Sakura took the pictures, the nights you spent cobbling together this crudely made thing of beauty. You remembered everything.
The warmth in your stomach began to curdle as the scrapbook stretched beyond your memory. The pages turned, and the pictures started to change. The photos were no longer of you and Sakura—at least, not entirely. You were there, but something was different.
You were older now.
You froze.
A picture of you sitting at a café, gripping a warm cup of coffee, holding a canvas. It was a moment you remembered well—the first piece of work that had meant something to you.
Another: You, walking home at night, headphones in, unaware of the camera that captured you from the corner of the street, hidden in the shadows.
Your first gallery presentation.
A night you spent alone, on your balcony, after your first success. You had felt so proud, staring at the skyline, believing you were alone, looking toward a future that seemed endless
Your hands began to tremble
These were moments Sakura couldn’t have been there for.
Or shouldn’t have been there for.
Yet here they were, preserved, collected, treasured.
Your stalker.
They must have broken in. Taken this book. Filled it with their twisted collection.
Your pulse pounded in your ears as you flipped the pages faster now.
Your gaze paused at two familiar pictures. One, deep in slumber, the other, laughing with Mina. Your breath caught in your throat.
Your mind scrambled, grasping at the edges of reality, trying to make sense of the twisted, horrifying truth, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t breathe.
No. No, no, no, no…
Mina.
Your stomach turned. Mina.
Your fingers clenched as your eyes darted downward. A letter. Mina’s messy handwriting.
Your mind swam as you tried to focus on the words, the sentences blurring together.
"Please... let them go."
"I won't say anything. I promise."
"I'll do whatever you ask."
A blackmail letter.
You slammed the scrapbook shut.
Your stalker-he had never been outside the house.
He had always been here.
You set the scrapbook down, slamming it shut. Your stalker must have had been taking such sick pleasure at your complacency, laughing at you as you believed yourself safe from his grasp by hiding with Sakura
You turned sharply, ready to run to Sakura. You had to tell her, had to warn her, had to
-
Your elbow knocked against the desk.
The computer mouse clicked.
The screen flickered to life.
A user profile was already logged in. Open windows littered the display-emails, transaction records, lines of unread messages. The more you looked, the more your pulse began to race.
There were files with your name on them. Folders labeled with dates. Locations.
Your life—cataloged.
Your texts. Your calls. Your phone records. Every corner of your life, laid bare. You weren’t alone. You never had been.
You reach for the mouse, going through the other files.
Transactions for a private investigator, a contract for a “smash and grab”, dated for the 4th of March. Your eyes widening in horror.
Printouts of bank transactions, your name tied to accounts you had never touched. Pieces of your business-destroyed before it could even take off— laid out before you in careful, methodical detail. Your life. Destroyed.
Your fingers curled around the edge of your desk as nausea churned in your gut.
Your lungs felt too tight, like the air in the room had thinned.
And then-
Clicking on the profile, your breath caught in your throat
At the top of the screen, a small text box glowed, waiting for input.
USER: LEEYOONAH
PIN:
You stared at the computer in broken silence.
Lee Yoonah
LYN
The name that had haunted you for so long now.
Hands trembling, you leaned forward, your fingers unconsciously finding its way to the keyboard, typing in your birthday.
The profile opened, displaying the identification card of Lee Yoonah.
You stared blankly into the screen.
Sakura stared back.
"I'm hoooome!"
Her voice rang through the apartment, bright and singsong, carrying something light and sweet, like honey melting over a blade.
Before you could turn, she was there—arms wrapping around your waist, soft laughter bubbling against your neck.
“I missed you so much,” she whined, squeezing you impossibly tight.
“I missed you too honey.” You said with a small smile, turning around, placing a light peck on her cheek.
“What’s got you in such a good mood today?” Sakura commented, before freezing in her tracks, looking at the open door at the end of the corridor.
Sakura’s eyes narrowed, turning from loving wife to predator in nary a second.
“Honey?” She asked, turning to you as she lowered her stance just slightly.
“Hmm?” You hum back, going back to polishing the plates at the sink.
”Did you go into the room? The storage room.”
“Yes, honey, I did.” You said nonchalantly, eliciting a shocked look from Sakura.
“Oh, you did?” Sakura asked, almost shocked at your quick, seemingly honest response.
“Did you find anything important?” She said, walking towards you, cornering you into the kitchen.
With a blank look, you gave her an innocent smile.
“No honey, I didn’t. Just some old storage junk, just like you said.”
Sakura’s eyes pierced yours, trying to find any hint of subterfuge, some attempt to trick her into letting her guard down so that you could run away, but she could find none.
There was no fear in your gaze. No defiance. No desperation. Just quiet acceptance. The same way you always looked at her.
She smiled, pulling you in for a hug.
You exhaled softly, feeling her warmth against you.
The world was uncertain. Terrifying.
But Sakura was safe.
Sakura was here to protect you.
She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you, cradling the back of your head with gentle fingers. The press of her lips was warm, lingering, possessive.
You let yourself sink into it.
The thoughts that had screamed in your mind moments ago—Mina, the files, the truth—blurred at the edges, dissolving into the quiet hum of her presence, it didn’t matter. Not anymore.
“You know I love you, right?” she whispered.
You nodded. Sakura was right.
“You know I only do what’s best for you.”
You nodded again. Sakura was always right.
“That’s my perfect little baby.”
She guided you away from the kitchen, fingers laced with yours. The door at the end of the hall remained open, but it didn’t matter anymore.
Sakura was here.
And as long as she was here, you were okay.
Because she was here.
You had changed so much since you met her. Gone was the wild spirit that wanted to push boundaries with their art, gone was the adventurous, independent trailblazer.
Gone were the streaks of defiance, the stubborn edges of independence. It had been chipped away bit by bit, until you were finally the way you were now, next to Sakura, searching her eyes with quiet trust and deference.
A Bird In Hand🌸M.S: Chapter 5, The Happy Domestic Life
Masterlist of Chapters: 1~2~3~4~5~6
If you haven't read the masterlist, please do so, there's important context there
The days were quiet. Peaceful. Wrapped in warmth and softness, each moment unfolded in an easy, delicate rhythm.
You woke slowly, cocooned in the sheets, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and something unmistakably hers. Morning light filtered through sheer curtains in golden ribbons, catching on the dust that drifted lazily in the air.
Beside you, the bed was empty, but still warm.
Sakura had already been here.
A smile pulled at your lips.
Another perfect day.
The kitchen was just as it always was—neat, cozy, touched by the quiet hum of domesticity. Sunlight glowed golden over polished counters, and breakfast was waiting, steam curling from a freshly poured cup of tea.
A note sat beside the tray, written in Sakura’s neat, deliberate script, beautifully written cursive.
Good morning, baby! Miss you already. Eat well and be good, okay? Love you so much! ♡
You traced the little heart with your fingertip, smiling softly.
Sakura always thought of everything.
You picked up the tea, breathing in the faint floral aroma.
Everything was just as it should be.
The apartment gleamed. It always did. The floors were smooth beneath your bare feet, the air carried the crisp scent of freshly washed linens, and the steady hum of the washing machine filled the space, rhythmic, predictable.
A home should always be clean.
Sakura liked things neat. Ordered. Perfect.
It was a good thing you did too.
You worked through the apartment methodically, straightening cushions, wiping down counters, folding laundry into crisp, even stacks. Each motion was smooth, automatic. You knew how Sakura liked things—where the cups should go, how the blankets should be folded, the exact way to tuck in the corners of the bedsheets. They always made sense. It was the way Sakura liked things.
Your hands slowed as you reached the end of the hall.
The door at the far end remained shut. Locked, as always.
Not locked, you thought—just closed. Just like it always was.
You had never been inside.
At first, you had thought to ask. But Sakura had smiled, brushing a hand through your hair, and said it wasn’t important. Just a storage space. A place for things that didn’t matter.
That had made sense.
You had nodded, and the conversation had moved on, slipping away like a dream upon waking.
The door wasn’t meant for you.
That was fine.
You had everything you needed.
With a small smile, you turned away, back to the neat stacks of laundry, back to the soft hum of domesticity.
By the time Sakura’s voice rang through the apartment, bright and singsong, you had already forgotten the door entirely.
"I'm hoooome!"
Her voice rang through the apartment, bright and singsong, carrying something light and sweet, like honey melting over a blade.
Before you could turn, she was there—arms wrapping around your waist, soft laughter bubbling against your neck.
“I missed you so much,” she whined, squeezing you impossibly tight.
Your breath hitched. She was warm, impossibly so, as if she had soaked in the sun before coming home. Her presence was all-encompassing, wrapping around you in something gentle, something steady.
You laughed, breathless, smoothing a hand over her back.
“You were only gone for a few hours,” you murmured.
Sakura pulled back just enough to look at you, big brown eyes shimmering with something expectant.
"That’s forever," she whispered.
Her hands lingered at your waist.
You hesitated, just for a second.
Then she grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Then another. And another.
"I missed you, I missed you, I missed you," she murmured between kisses, lips brushing your skin again and again.
Your chest fluttered.
She was always like this.
Warm. Loving.
So affectionate.
So close.
Dinner was comfortable. Cozy. Sakura sat near, her knee bumping against yours under the table, her fingers absently tracing circles over the back of your hand as she spoke.
At one point, she set her chopsticks down, tilting her head.
"You’re happy here, right?"
The question came suddenly, but her voice was light. Playful.
Still, something in you paused.
"Of course," you said.
Sakura’s lips curled into a slow, pleased smile.
"You don’t miss anything?" she asked.
You blinked.
Sakura laced her fingers through yours, squeezing gently.
"It doesn’t matter," she said before you could answer.
Her thumb smoothed over your knuckles.
"There’s nothing out there for you anyway."
Sakura lifted your hand, pressing her lips against your skin.
"You have everything you need right here, don’t you?"
Her voice was teasing.
But her grip never loosened.
Later, curled up on the couch, you melted against Sakura’s chest as she held you close, arms wrapped securely around your frame.
"Comfy?" she murmured, fingers threading slowly through your hair.
You nodded against her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.
Sakura sighed, brushing her lips against your temple.
"You smell like me," she murmured.
Your fingers curled into the fabric of her hoodie.
"That’s a good thing," she added. "It means you’re mine."
Something in your chest clenched.
"Mine to take care of," she continued. "Mine to protect."
Her arms tightened ever so slightly.
"You need me, don’t you?"
Your breath caught.
Sakura’s fingers trailed down your spine, slow and gentle.
If you haven't read the masterlist, please do so, there's important context there
Mina wasn’t there.
You stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, shifting uncomfortably as a growing knot tightened in your stomach. You glanced at your watch—twenty minutes had passed. No sign of her. No message. Mina had always been a little late, but she would’ve called or texted by now.
You called her phone again. No answer.
There was an unsettling silence that seemed to fill the space, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly off.
You walked up to the front desk, your hands cold as you placed them on the counter. The hotel clerk glanced up lazily from a screen and met your eyes.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for my friend, Mina,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “She was supposed to check in today, but I can’t reach her.”
The clerk typed something into the computer, his fingers tapping lightly. “She checked out early this morning,” he said, looking at you with a blank expression.
“Checked out?” Your heart sank. “Where did she go? Did she leave any contact info?”
The clerk shook his head. “No contact information left behind. Just a note for you.”
“A note?” Your voice faltered as the clerk reached under the counter, pulling out a small folded piece of paper. You took it from him with trembling hands, unfolding it quickly. The note read:
I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly. Something urgent came up. Take care of yourself.
It looked like Mina’s handwriting, but there was something about it that made your stomach twist. The flowing cursive felt wrong. Mina had always hated writing in cursive—she always found it tedious, unnecessary. She had complained about it countless times when you were younger.
You stared at the note for a moment longer, then folded it back up, your thoughts spinning. It just didn’t make sense.
You pulled out your phone again, dialing her number. No answer.
You checked her social media accounts. Empty. No messages, no posts, no updates—nothing. It was like she’d vanished into thin air. You kept searching, feeling more lost with each passing second. Every method you tried led to nothing. Mina’s digital presence had been erased.
A small voice nagged at the back of your mind. This isn’t like her.
You couldn’t just ignore it. Mina would never leave without telling you. You hadn’t been close long, but the two of you were close enough for her not to just disappear, not without an explanation at the very least.
“Hey,” Sakura’s voice suddenly broke through your thoughts, her hand clinging to yours as she placed a quick kiss on your cheek, trying to calm you down. You turned around, relieved to see her standing there, concern written across her face. “What’s wrong?”
You handed her the note without speaking. She read it quickly, and you watched her brow furrow as she finished.
“This… doesn’t sound like Mina,” she said quietly, folding the note and handing it back to you. “Are you sure she left on her own?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, feeling your voice crack, the panic rising. “This doesn’t feel right. The note’s all wrong. She wouldn’t just disappear. This is more than just a breakdown. She wouldn’t erase herself completely just because she was going through a tough time”
Sakura placed a hand on your shoulder. “Maybe she had her reasons. Sometimes people leave without warning. We don’t always know what’s going on in someone’s life.”
You wanted to believe her. You tried to. But there was an itch in your mind that wouldn’t let go.
“Her contact info is gone,” you said, struggling to explain the unease settling in your chest. “I can’t find her anywhere. It’s like she just… erased herself.”
Sakura gave you a sympathetic smile, her gaze soft and comforting. “Maybe she needed space. Maybe she just didn’t know how to tell you. It’s okay honey. People leave sometimes.”
“I don’t believe that,” you snapped. “Mina wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t just—”
Sakura’s hand found your shoulder, the touch comforting, almost practiced. “It’s okay,” she said again, her voice like velvet, smooth and soothing. “It’s not the end of the world. If Mina wants to be alone, we’ll respect that. But it doesn’t mean she’s in danger.”
You felt a pang in your chest. Maybe she was right. Mina had always been independent, sometimes even reckless. Maybe this was just her way of doing things—disappearing when things got too heavy.
But a small part of you wasn’t so sure.
“Do you want me to ask around?” Sakura’s voice was gentle, reassuring. “I can speak to the hotel staff, see if they know anything. Maybe there’s something here that could explain where she went.”
You nodded, grateful for her presence. “Please, Sakura. I don’t know what else to do.”
She gave you a warm smile. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry.”
You watched her walk toward the hotel office, a sense of uncertainty creeping into your mind. She was calm, confident, in control—almost too much so.
You couldn’t help but feel a little smaller beside her, like she had all the answers while you were left scrambling for clues. She was always like this, the strong, confident woman. Her confidence made you feel safe.
You spent the rest of the evening in your room, trying to distract yourself. But everything felt off. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping for a call from Mina, some kind of sign that she was okay. But nothing came.
You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. Maybe work would help clear your mind.
Pulling up your business records, you scrolled through the latest financial reports. You had been meaning to go over them for weeks, but life kept getting in the way.
Something caught your eye.
A slow dip in revenue. A pattern of canceled commissions.
You frowned, clicking through the records. It wasn’t a sharp drop, not sudden—but it was steady. Too steady.
Your business, if you could call that, of selling your art had always been small, but stable, profitable. The changes were small enough that you hadn’t noticed at first, but now…
Your eye moved to another invoice, a recent security invoice.
YNL Protection Services
The charge was from an unnamed company to a service provider listed simply as “YNL.” You stared at the entry, puzzled. The charge seemed too high for something you didn’t recall authorizing. YNL—why did that sound familiar?
You skimmed through the invoice quickly, but the details didn’t provide much more information. It nagged at you, a small, insignificant piece in a puzzle you couldn’t quite complete.
You shut the laptop and sat back, running your hands over your face. Maybe you were just overthinking things. Maybe Mina was fine. Maybe she had a reason for leaving that you just didn’t understand.
But where was she?
You closed your eyes and leaned back in your chair.
Was she safe?
You tried to push the worry aside, but it kept creeping back, relentless.
A knock on the door snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened it to find Sakura standing there, her expression calm but serious.
“I spoke with the staff,” she said, her voice gentle but firm. “No one knows where she went, but I’m going to make sure someone looks into it. A couple of my people are on it now, just to be sure. If Mina wants to be alone, I’ve given my people explicit instructions to leave her alone, but just to make sure she was safe.”
You felt a small wave of relief at her words, though it was fleeting. You wanted to believe that everything would be okay. You quietly thanked your lucky stars for Sakura. You wouldn’t know what you would do in this situation without her
“Thank you,” you said, managing a weak smile.
Sakura’s eyes softened. “Of course. I’ll keep you updated.”
As she turned to leave, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was slipping—and no matter how hard you tried to grasp at it, the truth was getting further and further away. At least you had Sakura.
If you haven't read the masterlist, please do so, there's important context there
You stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of your shirt, the fabric soft under your fingers. You could feel Sakura’s gaze, warm and steady, following every movement you made. Her silence stretched just a little too long, but there was no tension in the air—only a quiet, unspoken connection that made you feel both cared for and deeply seen. But there was something else. Something in the way her eyes lingered, a trace of something deeper. Maybe it was just your imagination, but the thought stayed with you as you moved to adjust your collar once more.
Finally, she spoke, her voice soft and gentle, with a hint of concern that made your heart flutter.
"Who are you meeting?" she asked, her tone barely above a whisper.
You hesitated for a moment, your fingers pausing on the collar of your shirt. There was something in her voice—something tender, almost protective—that made you feel safe and cherished, yet a little vulnerable all the same.
"It’s Mina," you said, offering her a small, tight smile. "An old friend. She’s in town for a bit, and we’re meeting up." You could feel your pulse quicken as you added, "I used to have a bit of a crush on her, but it’s in the past now."
Sakura’s eyes softened, and a small, knowing smile played at the corners of her lips. She stepped closer to you, her presence comforting and warm as she reached out to adjust your collar herself, her fingers grazing your neck with a softness that sent a shiver down your spine. The touch was gentle, loving, as if she was taking care of you in that small, intimate way she always did. If she was shocked, or displeased at you meeting Mina, she didn’t show it.
"Oh, Myoui Mina, right, she was in our class. An old crush, you say?" she questioned, her voice soft with affection. Her eyes met yours, and there was a glimmer in them—something deep, something that made you feel like you were the center of her world. "I’m almost jealous," she said, her tone light and joking, though there was a tenderness that made your heart swell. "Be careful, though. I’ll be waiting for you, no matter what. Did you bring your portable charger?"
With a nod, you gestured to your bag, Sakura nodding in recognition. “I don’t even know why this phone is acting up, I just bought it like a month ago, and the battery life is already so horrid.” You lamented, looking at the phone with some measure of disdain
”You know if you need a new phone, all you have to do is ask right? I’m more than willing to buy you a new phone, though I may request some, let’s just say, extracurricular payment.” Sakura said in a light, jovial tone as she playfully nibbled on your ear, causing you to giggle as you felt her breath hit your neck.
”You know I wouldn’t ask that of you Sakura, but if I really do need one, I’ll tell you first thing, alright?”
“That’s a promise then, lover. Enjoy yourself with Mina alright?” She said with a smile, though you sensed a tinge of Jealousy, or perhaps something deeper, beneath the surface.
You shifted, the warmth of her words clashing with your unease. "It’s nothing, Sakura. Just catching up. Plus, it’ll be good for me to get out of the house a bit more, and get my mind off that trainwreck of an art sale I have going on."
Sakura’s hands wrapped around your waist from the back, leaning her head onto your shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, baby, I’m sure your art is gonna start selling again. It’s just a rut, you need to give people time to see how great your art is!” She encourages you, peppering you with gentle kisses. Her support is almost overwhelming, and you feel a flicker of relief.
As she steps back, her gaze never wavers. It’s steady and full of love, a quiet promise that she will always be there for you, no matter what.
The next morning, the glow of your phone screen cut through the stillness of the room, but the image that appeared made your stomach drop. A picture of you and Mina, caught mid-laugh, the text beneath it chilling: Not only did you not leave, you chose to cheat. This is your second warning.
Your heart raced. Panic set in as you stared at the screen, your breath coming too quickly. He was back. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t think. But you knew who to reach for—Sakura.
You didn’t have to say anything. She could always tell when something was wrong.
You found her in the living room, sitting with an old scrapbook, the one you both had started together over the years, though the scrapbook seemed thicker than you remembered it. Sakura must have been thinking of adding more to it, with your new life, new memories. Her eyes were focused on it, turning each page slowly, as though each memory had a place in her heart. When she noticed you, she closed the book with a soft thud, her expression gentle as she looked up at you.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice soft but full of concern.
You swallowed, your throat tight. "It’s him. The stalker. He sent another message. A picture of me and Mina. He’s threatening me again."
Sakura’s gaze didn’t waver. It was steady, calm—like she already knew what she had to do. She set the scrapbook aside and looked at you, her eyes filled with quiet determination.
“Let me see that.” She reached her hand out, grabbing your phone as she surveyed the picture.
“Maybe it would help to look through the scrapbook, get my mind off this lunatic,”
Just as you were about to reach for it, Sakura’s fingers touched your arm gently, drawing your attention back to her.
“My team found a clue,” she said, her voice slow and deliberate. “LYN. That’s all we’ve got so far. My team is continuing to look into it.”
The name meant nothing to you, but the way she spoke about it—it wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t panicked. She was handling it, taking care of everything. That alone gave you a sense of peace, even in the face of such a threat.
Her gaze softened, and a small, reassuring smile touched her lips. "I think you should stay with me, move to Korea with me," she said, her voice intimate, filled with warmth.
You blinked, caught off guard by her words. "What do you mean?"
"You’ll be safe with me, you know I have security. It’s the safest option." She repeated, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Her hand slid down your arm, her fingers intertwining with yours, holding you firmly but gently.
She was right. Why hadn’t you thought of that sooner?
Her words settled over you, gentle yet firm, like a weight that was comforting rather than suffocating. She wasn’t pushing. She was offering you a safe place, a place to escape the fear and the pressure. Her care was all-encompassing, and it felt impossible to resist.
You hesitated for a moment, but then the memory of the message, the chilling words, came rushing back. You swallowed, your chest tight with anxiety, but also with a strange sense of relief.
“Okay,” you said, your voice soft but sure. "Okay, I’ll come with you."
Sakura’s smile widened, a mix of tenderness and quiet triumph. She pulled you close, her arms wrapping around you in a loving embrace, as if she wanted to hold you in that moment forever. Her lips brushed against your ear as she whispered, “I’m so glad. You’re safe with me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine at her words, not from fear, but from the overwhelming sense of safety she brought with her. Her love wrapped around you like a shield, and for the first time in a while, you felt like you could finally breathe, free from the weight of worry.
You leaned into her embrace, your heart racing, not from fear but from the comfort of knowing that you were where you belonged. With Sakura. Safe, loved, and protected.
