For a second, Seungwan is flying forward, pushed by inertia. Then her hand, wrapped around the nearest pole, yanks her body into stillness with an unpleasant jolt all the way down her arm.

The bus driver seriously needs to cool it on the brakes.

With a sigh, she waits until the doors are open to quickly pat down her disheveled shirt and step outside. In her free hand is a bouquet of flowers, thankfully unharmed by the reckless driving she's just had to endure.

Looking at it, a smile springs to her lips. She can't stay mad, not today, not when there's so much to be happy about.

A quick check of her watch tells her she's still got some time to compose herself before the big moment, so she makes her way to the university without hurry.

As she walks, she goes over the plan, mouthing the words quietly. She really hopes she doesn't stutter, that would be so embarrassing in front of all those people.

This entire plan is a little nerve-wracking, to be honest.

But if she knows one thing, it's that this girl deserves a big gesture, no matter how terribly it could potentially go for Seungwan.

They've been texting for weeks now, meeting for a coffee or a quick bite between classes, and Seungwan knows without a doubt that she wants more.

She wants to take her out on a date, a proper one at a fancy restaurant. She wants to hold her hand and gaze into her eyes, knowing that she feels the same way.

She wants to be her girlfriend. And she'll do whatever it takes to get that chance.

Including, apparently, confessing her feelings with a bouquet of flowers and a romantic song right there on the university steps, as the only woman in the world for her walks out of her last class.

She cringes a little bit at the thought of all that attention on her, but just imagining that warm, happy smile from the one person that matters clears all her doubts. Her grip on the bouquet tightens in anticipation, the wrapping paper creaking in protest.

"I knew it the first time I laid eyes on you," she practices almost inaudibly. "But you can't really do that, can you? Walk up to a stranger and say you're in love. So I just asked for your number instead."

"But you know what? Even if you don't believe in love at first sight... Call it intuition then. I knew I'd fall for you and I was right. I've fallen so hard that you're all I see."

The university is right across the street now. Seungwan swallows drily and studies the looming steps. They seem taller than usual. She clears and continues her speech as she crosses the street.

"You already said yes when I asked for your number, and you said yes when I asked you out. So I'm hoping you'll say yes just one more time, when I ask you to be my girlfriend. Sejeong..."

Her mind goes blank and she immediately breaks into a cold sweat.

This can't happen when she's up there, she has to get it right. She clears and tries again.

"...when I ask you to be my girlfriend. Sejeong, I..."

She trails off into silence and for a moment, everything is forgotten. Not just the speech, but the whole event, the flowers in her hand, even the very reason she's standing there. And then it all comes back, but she's distant, detached.

She tries to focus again, gather her scattered thoughts, but her mind wanders, distracted by something she can't pinpoint at first. There's just something... off.

The nearly empty stairway grows populated as the first students begin to leave for lunch. Seungwan gazes at the crowd of strangers, each face passing by her eyes without leaving a trace.

Not them, something whispers in her ear. Not the steps. Pay attention. Look closely now, or you'll miss it.

Obeying at once, she cranes her head from side to side, first with slight, inconspicuous motions, and then wildly, willing her eyes to scan every inch of the world around her, to uncover what is hidden.

Students pour from the steps, flood the sidewalk, until her vision is obscured by bodies, backpacks, notebooks held to chests.

But she sees it.

In the middle of the crowd, she catches a glimpse of motion, just a flash before it disappears round the corner, and she knows she's found it.

The world goes quiet.

The bustle around her seems to slow, to fade, to turn to a mist that her solid presence could run through with no resistance, dissolving the shimmering image and leaving behind only disordered shapes in smoke.

She steps forward, her path clear, her motions decisive.

Her hand releases its hold on the flowers and the last link to the real is severed. Behind her, the bouquet falls to the floor, stray petals fluttering in its wake. She never looks back.

The side street is empty. A door stands ajar, a discreet entrance to the university. On it is a sign reserving it for school staff. Seungwan pays it no mind and steps inside, eager to catch up to the mysterious figure.

She finds herself in a long corridor, doors lining the walls, fluorescent lights in regular patterns along the ceiling. It stretches on and on, as though crossing the entire campus.

In the distance is a figure. A woman.

She stands still, her back to Seungwan, seeming to examine something on the wall.

The sight sends a jolt of familiarity through Seungwan, so strong that she nearly sobs it out.

She reaches out, like her arms could breach the vast space between them and hold the figure in their grip, pull it close into her scrutiny, divine its secret.

The figure stands unperturbed, unreachable.

Seungwan steps forward, hurries to catch up, before the woman runs off somewhere else. The lights ahead flicker with a shuttering, stuttering noise, an eerie background to Seungwan's echoing steps.

After what feels like hours, the figure grows closer, more distinct.

Seungwan can see the dark shade of her hair, the shape of its cut. Somehow, she looks exactly as Seungwan had expected, as though fitting a mental image that she was no longer supposed to have, that had seemingly vanished, until recognition triggered its return.

Something loud sounds from behind her, like an object being dropped or a heavy switch being thrown, and she turns around to find the end of the corridor tapering off into darkness, the door completely obscured.

The sound repeats as another section of the hallway abruptly goes dark, the fluorescent lights going dull in an instant.

Frozen in place, Seungwan watches the darkness advance in slow but steady steps, each accompanied by the same ominous sound.

Her body makes the quick calculations that her mind can’t quite manage in the moment, weighing the speed of the advancing oblivion against the distance that separates her from the figure, and breaks into a desperate run.

Behind her, she hears the herald of the oncoming shadow, growing faster and faster, and she never looks back but she can picture it, the darkness biting at her heels, threatening to overtake her.

In the middle of it all, the woman hasn’t moved at all. She only stands there, closer and closer with each of Seungwan’s strides, close enough that she could reach her if only she could… If only…

The light above Seungwan’s head goes out and she stumbles, catches her balance, tries to catch up to the relentless pace.

As soon as she reaches the next patch of light, it fades as well.

The third is gone before she steps into it.

The fourth, fifth, and so on, and she loses count as all the light in the world recedes farther and farther into the distance.

The woman is in the darkness as well now, and Seungwan runs forward blindly, arms reaching out.

She can’t see a thing and she runs, runs, all the while worrying, over and over.

What if I miss her?