Dive // Jaeyi x Seulgi

Chapter 9

The door was slightly ajar.

Her fingers brushed against the doorframe as she pushed it open just enough to see inside.

And then she froze.

Papers—documents, photos, maps, files—were pinned to the walls and scattered across the desk, meticulously gathered over the years and laid out with careful planning. At the center stood a board covered in strings and notes, names linked by thin red lines, a road map to something Seulgi couldn't quite grasp yet.

But the thing that made her breath catch?

Her own name was there too.

Seulgi's fingers curled against the doorframe as a sharp ache bloomed in her chest.

Jaeyi had been watching, planning, preparing—for years.

All this time, while Seulgi had been searching for Jaeyi, following every trace she left behind, Jaeyi had been here, quietly building something far bigger than Seulgi ever could have imagined.

Her mind spun.

"Jaeyi..." Her voice barely broke the silence.

Across the room, Jaeyi, who had been writing something down, stilled.

She didn't turn right away. Didn't rush to explain.

Instead, she let out a quiet breath, her hand tightening around the pen.

Seulgi stepped forward. Her pulse was loud in her ears. "You've been planning this for years." It wasn't a question.

Jaeyi finally turned to face her, and in the dim light, her expression was unreadable.

Seulgi swallowed hard. Her voice was quieter now, but laced with something raw. "Did you ever want me to find you?"

Jaeyi's lips parted, but no words came.

Seulgi let out a shaky breath, her eyes fixed on Jaeyi's. "That night... when you gave me those shoes," she murmured, her voice laden with something indescribable. "You wanted me to go with you, didn't you?"

Jaeyi's eyes flickered—just for a second, something unguarded slipping through. A quiet answer tucked away in the depths of her gaze, unvoiced yet unmistakable.

But she didn't say yes.

Didn't say no, either.

Seulgi's breath hitched.

And in that moment, she understood—Jaeyi had wanted her. Had ached for her, just as much as Seulgi had ached in return. But she had never asked.

Jaeyi never said the words. And maybe... she never would.

The silence hung in the air between them and Seulgi didn't know what to do with it.

Seulgi let out a hollow breath, the weight of everything settling deep in her chest. She took another step forward, closer to Jaeyi, closer to the wall of secrets, the years of planning, the life Jaeyi had built in the shadows—alone.

"You should've told me," she whispered, voice trembling. "You should've let me find you."

Jaeyi exhaled, slow and measured, but her fingers twitched against the pen she was holding. "I couldn't," she said, barely above a murmur.

"Couldn't," Seulgi echoed, a bitter laugh slipping past her lips. "Or wouldn't?"

Jaeyi didn't answer.

The silence was suffocating.

Seulgi's gaze flickered back to the board, to the name she had seen a thousand times in her textbooks, on her student ID, on documents that should have never been in Jaeyi's possession. It was there, inked in Jaeyi's handwriting, connected by red strings to things she couldn't begin to understand yet.

She felt exposed. Unraveled.

"You were always watching me," she said, her voice barely steady.

Jaeyi's throat bobbed. She set the pen down, finally looking at Seulgi, really looking at her, and it was unbearable—the weight of it, the things she wasn't saying.

Seulgi clenched her fists. "You left me to chase shadows, Jaeyi. You let me grieve you when you were right here all along." Her voice cracked, anger and heartbreak spilling over in equal measure.

Jaeyi didn't flinch. Didn't move. But her knuckles were white where they rested against the desk.

"I'm sorry," she said at last.

Seulgi let out a sharp breath. "Sorry?" she echoed, something breaking inside her. "Is that all you have to say?"

Jaeyi's lips parted, but nothing came out.

And that was what shattered her the most.

Because Jaeyi—Jaeyi, who had spent years building this, hiding in the dark, leaving Seulgi in the wreckage of her absence—still wouldn't ask her to stay.

Still wouldn't say the words.

Seulgi swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I would have gone with you," she whispered, voice barely holding together. "If you had asked me back then. I would have followed you anywhere."

Jaeyi's breath stuttered, her fingers tightening against the desk.

Seulgi searched her, waiting, hoping for something—anything.

But Jaeyi only stared.

And Seulgi understood.

She let out a shaking breath and turned away. Jaeyi didn't stop her.