Fatescript

"Soft Persuasions"

The air in the car grew denser after Jisoo’s pointed reply. Hwa-jin’s lips pressed into a thin line as if she were weighing her next words, while Jisoo turned her gaze back to her phone, pretending to scroll though she wasn’t reading anything. Her jaw was tight, betraying the irritation simmering beneath her calm exterior.

“You don’t have to like it,” Hwa-jin said finally, her voice softer now, almost coaxing. “Sometimes it’s about showing face. These families care about appearances more than anything else. If one of us doesn’t go, whispers will start. Do you want that attached to your name? To Tae’s?”

The mention of Taehyung made Jisoo glance up again, her annoyance dimming slightly. “Don’t bring him into this,” she murmured, though her shoulders tensed. “He already has enough eyes on him. One party won’t change anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Hwa-jin countered, leaning forward slightly, her eyes sharp. “Every little thing matters. People are waiting for us to slip. Skipping an event like this gives them the chance to talk.”

Jisoo sighed, resting her elbow against the door and her chin in her hand. She looked out the window, watching the trail of headlights blur into white streaks. “You always think about politics. About how others see us. Do you ever think about what I want?”

Hwa-jin's expression softened briefly at that, but it didn’t last. “You think I don’t? I do, Jisoo. But I also think about the bigger picture. We can’t afford to act carelessly right now. Especially not you.”

Jisoo didn’t respond immediately. She turned her phone over in her hand, staring at the darkened screen. Her reflection looked back at her, tired and worn from the long day. After a beat, she said quietly, “I’ll think about it.”

It wasn’t agreement, but it wasn’t outright refusal either. And for the first time since the conversation began, Hwa-jin leaned back against her seat, accepting that this was as much as she would get from jisoo tonight.

The rest of the ride passed in silence, each lost in her own thoughts—the city lights flashing by like silent reminders of the worlds they were each trying to balance.

***

The bathroom light clicked off, and Jisoo padded across her bedroom with heavy, dragging steps. Her mismatched pajamas—a soft lavender top and gray bottoms that didn’t quite belong together—clung loosely to her figure, adding to her exhausted, almost childlike look.

Her body begged for rest. The moment she saw the bed, neat and inviting with its plush pillows and cool sheets, her shoulders dropped as though releasing a weight she had been carrying all day. She slipped beneath the blanket, burying herself in its comfort, and within seconds, her eyelids fell shut. Fatigue wrapped around her like a second blanket. Her mind drifted, half-formed thoughts dissolving into nothingness.

Sleep came fast and heavy.

But only twenty-eight minutes later, the shrill ringing of her phone pierced the silence. At first, she didn’t stir. The device buzzed again, screen lighting up in the dark room, casting faint shadows across the nightstand. The ringing persisted, relentless. With a groggy groan, Jisoo shifted, dragging one arm out from under the blanket. Her hand fumbled across the nightstand until her fingers finally closed around the vibrating phone. Without opening her eyes, she pressed it to her ear.

“Hello…” she muttered, her voice husky and slurred with sleep.

A low chuckle came through the line, followed by a familiar voice. “Hello, Ms. Kim.”

For a moment, her drowsy mind couldn’t place the speaker. She scrunched her brow faintly, still caught between the edges of dream and reality. “What…?” she mumbled in annoyance.