The dorm was quiet.
No calls. No cameras. Just soft breathing and a clock ticking too loud in the silence.
Haru sat on the balcony, knees tucked to his chest.
Minju hovered beside him, watching the city lights. She wasn't glowing. Just… present. Calm.
"You didn't say goodbye at the press thing," she said.
He didn't look at her. "I didn't want it to be goodbye."
She tilted her head, teasing gently. "What if it needs to be?"
He finally looked up. "You're still here."
"Only because you kept me here."
That made him pause.
"You carried me through songs and stages and mirrors. But you don't need to anymore."
He whispered, "But what if I want to?"
She gave him a sad smile. "Then you're holding onto a ghost."
He looked down. "You were never just a ghost."
They sat in silence.
Below them, the city buzzed. The world moved on. Fans debated comeback rumors. The media speculated about Eclipse's future. But up here, time felt slower. Still.
Minju leaned her head against his shoulder — or tried to. Her form passed through gently, like mist.
"See?" she whispered. "Almost gone."
Haru closed his eyes. "Stay until sunrise."
"I'll try."
They stayed that way for hours.
And when the sky started to turn gold at the edges, Haru whispered, "Will I remember you?"
Minju's voice trembled. "Only if you choose to."
He turned to her. "Then I will."
She nodded once.
And faded.
No flicker. No pain.
Just light.
Like morning.
When Seojun found Haru on the balcony, the sun had fully risen.
"You okay?" he asked.
Haru wiped his cheeks, surprised to find them wet.
"Yeah," he said.
He didn't look for her shadow. Didn't check the mirror.
He just sat a little taller.
Because some goodbyes weren't endings.
They were openings.