A single suitcase lies open on the bed, packed with careful precision. Folded shirts, a pair of jeans, toiletries in a clear bag. On the nightstand, a stack of documents sits in a neat pile—passport, visa confirmation, boarding pass printed on slightly crinkled paper.

The apartment feels smaller than usual this morning. Or maybe it's just the weight of what's about to happen pressing down on the walls.

Y/n's phone buzzes on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a notification. A message from Lily, sent an hour ago when it was still the middle of the night her time.

The flight to Seoul boards in four hours.