When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 37

“She’d hate seeing you like this,” he said quietly.

Seok Kyung lifted her head, eyes swollen and bloodshot. “I can’t—I don’t—she was just—” Her voice cracked again.

“I know.” Woo Joon’s voice didn’t waver. “I know, Seok kyung.”

And he did. We all did.

We’d all seen Ha Ya storm into a room with the force of a hurricane, teasing, loud, alive. She’d never tiptoe around anything, least of all pain. And now the silence she left behind was unbearable.

I turned my face slightly, wiping at my cheeks with the sleeve of my coat. My hands were shaking again. Everything inside me was unraveling.

“She didn’t even get to do half the things she wanted,” I whispered. “She talked about visiting Greece. About opening her own skin clinic one day. She was so… full of plans.”

“She had a list,” Woo Joon said. “In her locker. I saw it once. Taped inside the door. Top of it was ‘Convince Ye Na to finally go on a proper vacation.’”

I laughed—sudden and aching—and broke all over again.

“She kept nagging me about it,” I choked. “Said I’d work myself to death before thirty if someone didn’t drag me out of the hospital.”

“She loved you,” Seok Kyung whispered. “She really did.”

A cold, sharp ache twisted in my chest.

And still, she was gone.

Killed because I chose to keep someone I loved close. Because I thought, selfishly, that maybe for once, I could protect the people I cared about without losing everything.

But I was wrong.

I looked at Seok Kyung’s face, then at Woo Joon’s. Their pain. Their confusion. Their shattered hearts.

And I couldn’t say it.

I couldn’t tell them she was gone because of me.

The phone vibrated in my hand again.

Another call from Han Wool.

I stared at it, lips trembling. My eyes—so swollen they barely opened—stung with unshed tears that refused to fall now. Maybe I’d used them all up already. Maybe I had nothing left.

I had ignored the last six calls.
I didn’t have the strength to hear his voice.

Not when Ha Ya’s was gone forever.

But this one—I don’t know why—this one I answered.

I didn’t say anything. I just brought the phone to my ear, hand shaking.
Silence from my end. A quiet breath. A hollow chest.

“Ye Na?” His voice—too soft, too kind—filled the space. “I’ve been calling you so many times. Are you… busy? Do you need time? I’ll wait here. Take your time, alright? Just… don’t ignore me.”

He was trying. So hard.
His voice, the hope in it—I wanted to scream.

“I got everything ready. The house is done. Everything’s settled. I’m waiting for you.”

And then I cracked.

A sound broke out of me, sharp and broken, and I quickly slapped my hand over my mouth before more escaped.

His voice grew tense, worried. “Ye Na… are you okay? Are you tired? Did something happen? Do you need me to come there?”

I swallowed, hard. My voice was almost nothing.

“I’m coming,” I said. “Wait for me.”

I hung up before he could say another word.

The hospital doors felt miles behind me as I stepped outside. The cold bit through my coat, and I welcomed it. I needed to feel something that wasn’t grief.

I walked. My shoes hit the pavement in uneven steps. One foot in front of the other. That’s what Ha Ya would have told me. “Keep going, Ye Na-ya. Even if it hurts.”

And it hurt.

But I saw him.

He stood near his car, hands deep in his pockets. The moment he spotted me, his whole face softened. That smile—I hated that smile right now. Because he didn’t know.

He didn’t know everything had fallen apart.

He stepped forward, that usual golden retriever energy dimmed but still flickering behind his eyes.

“Ye Na,” he said, his voice laced with relief. “I was so worried. You weren’t answering your phone and—are you okay? You look… tired.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Not yet.

“I know everything’s been a lot,” he went on. “But I thought maybe this would help. The house is perfect. Quiet neighborhood. No chaos. Just us.”

I looked down at the ground.
He kept going, trying to fill the silence between us with something warm.

“There’s this little café a few blocks away. I already went there once—it reminded me of you. They had those sweet red bean pastries you love.”

My fingers clenched into fists inside my coat pockets.

“And there’s a park, too. We could go for walks. Talk about our days. Or not talk at all, if you prefer. I’d be okay with just walking beside you.”

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

“I want you to be happy, Ye Na.” He looked at me, truly looked. “I’ll do anything to make that happen.”

It was too much.
Too pure.
Too undeserved.

“I want to tell you something,” I said.

His smile faltered, but he nodded. “Of course. Anything.”

I looked up at him.
At that boy who had once fell in love with me.
And the man who still hopelessly in love with me.

At the person who didn’t yet realize I might be cursed.

“Let’s break up,” I said.