Seo-yeon saw him again two days later.
She wasn't looking for him.
Not consciously.
But some part of her had begun mapping the spaces he occupied.
School.
Street corners.
The quiet edges of their life.
He appeared where pressure lived.
She spotted him across the road from a convenience store.
Standing still.
Watching traffic.
Waiting.
He didn't look surprised when she approached.
Like he had been expecting her.
Her heart pounded with each step.
Her instincts screamed at her to stop.
To turn around.
To run.
But she didn't.
Running was what her old self would have done.
Running was how she lost everything.
She stopped a few feet away.
Close enough to speak.
Far enough to escape.
He turned toward her slowly.
His expression calm.
Measured.
"You came to me," he said.
Not a question.
An observation.
Her fingers curled into fists.
"I want to know how much."
He studied her carefully.
His eyes searching for weakness.
Fear.
Hesitation.
He found none.
"That's not something you need to worry about," he said.
Her jaw tightened.
"I already am."
A small smile appeared on his face.
Not mocking.
Not kind.
Interested.
"You're very different from most children."
Her voice remained steady.
"I'm not here as a child."
Silence.
He considered her words.
Weighed them.
Evaluated their usefulness.
"Debt isn't something that disappears because you ask politely," he said.
"I'm not asking politely."
That surprised him.
She saw it.
A small shift.
A crack in his certainty.
She wasn't begging.
She wasn't pleading.
She was negotiating.
And he hadn't expected that.