Wut didn't like this.
He decided that the moment he woke up.
Not later.
Not gradually.
Immediately.
There was something about today that felt—
Off.
Not wrong.
Not exactly.
Just… uneasy.
Like stepping into something he hadn't agreed to, even though technically—
He had.
Orientation day was getting closer. That was the only reason he had said yes.
Practical.
Convenient.
Temporary.
That's what he told himself.
And yet—
As he got ready, fixing his sleeve for the second time without realizing it, the feeling didn't go away.
It stayed.
Quiet.
Persistent.
Waiting.
Breakfast made it worse.
Way worse.
Wut stepped into the kitchen and immediately paused.
Everyone was already there.
His dad.
His mom.
Pliva.
All seated.
All… looking normal.
Too normal.
Too put together.
For a split second, Wut just stood there.
"…Why does it feel like you're all going to visit your future daughter-in-law or something?" he muttered, half joking.
Silence.
A beat.
Then—
His mom coughed lightly, turning away.
His dad reached for his cup like nothing had been said.
Pliva?
She smiled.
Not even hiding it.
Wut blinked.
"…What?"
"Nothing," his mom said quickly.
Too quickly.
Yeah.
No.
That was not "nothing."
Wut pulled out a chair slowly, sitting down without taking his eyes off them.
"Okay," he said. "Now I don't like this."
"You didn't like it yesterday either," Pliva pointed out casually.
"That's different."
"How?"
"I didn't sleep on it."
Pliva hummed like that made sense.
Which made it worse.
Wut exhaled, rubbing his temple lightly.
"Can we at least talk about this person properly?"
His dad looked up.
"We already did."
"No, you said 'a friend's son.' That's not information. That's a category."
A pause.
Fair.
His dad set his cup down.
"He's around your age," he said calmly. "Lives near your university."
Wut stared.
"I know that."
Another pause.
"He's currently running his father's company."
Wut blinked.
"…What?"
"That's what I know."
Wut leaned back slightly.
"That's it?"
"That's it."
Silence.
Then—
"That's not helpful."
His mom pressed her lips together again.
Smiling.
Actually smiling.
Wut looked at her.
"You find this funny?"
"No," she said quickly.
Still smiling.
"Not at all."
Pliva let out a small laugh this time, not even trying to hide it.
Wut turned to her.
"Do you know who he is?"
She tilted her head slightly.
"Maybe."
"Pliva."
"What?"
"Don't start."
"I'm not starting anything," she said innocently.
"That's the problem."
Wut sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Fine," he said. "Do you at least have a picture?"
His dad paused.
"Oh," he said. "I do, actually."
Finally.
Something useful.
Wut leaned forward slightly.
"Well?"
A beat.
Then—
"I left it in my office."
Silence.
Wut stared at him.
"…You're joking."
"I'm not."
Of course.
Of course he wasn't.
Wut leaned back again, letting out a dry breath.
"Great," he muttered. "Mysterious. Boss.What was his name again? Never mind Let me guess, Y'all didnt ask ."
Pliva snorted.
His mom looked like she was about to laugh again.
Wut closed his eyes briefly.
Yeah.
This was not normal.
And yet—
Despite all of that—
He still agreed.
Reluctantly.
Because orientation day was approaching.
Because the location made sense.
Because saying no would somehow feel more complicated than just… going.
"Fine," he said eventually. "I'll go."
His mom's smile widened instantly.
Too fast.
Too satisfied.
His dad simply nodded.
"Good."
That was it.
No discussion.
No debate.
Just—
Settled.
Wut didn't like how easy that was.
The uneasiness didn't leave.
Not during the car ride.
Not when they arrived.
Not even when he stepped out into the cold air, adjusting his jacket absentmindedly.
If anything—
It got worse.
The building was nice.
Clean.
Modern.
Exactly the kind of place someone "running his father's company" would live in.
It made sense.
Everything about this made sense.
And yet—
It still felt wrong.
Like he had missed something important.
Like everyone else knew something he didn't.
Wut followed his parents inside.
Through the lobby.
Into the elevator.
Up.
Each second stretched just enough to make him aware of it.
Too aware.
His reflection stared back at him from the elevator doors.
Calm.
Normal.
Unbothered.
A lie.
"…It's just a meeting," he told himself quietly.
"Nothing more."
The words didn't settle.
The hallway was quiet.
Soft lights.
Muted steps.
His dad stopped in front of a door.
Wut's gaze lingered on it.
Just a door.
Nothing special.
And yet—
His chest tightened slightly.
Not enough to panic.
Just enough to notice.
His dad knocked.
Once.
Twice.
Footsteps echoed from inside.
Wut's focus sharpened without permission.
The uneasiness—
Shifted.
Not gone.
Just…
Changing.
The handle turned.
The door opened.
And everything—
Stopped.
Wut looked up.
And the uneasiness finally made sense.
"…You are all here."
Phol stood there.
Calm.
Composed.
Like this wasn't unexpected.
Like this wasn't anything at all.
Wut didn't move.
Didn't react.
Because suddenly—
Everything clicked.
The silence.
The distance.
The "work."
The missing presence.
This.
This was why.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Wut said under his breath.
Behind him, his mom let out a quiet laugh she didn't even try to hide this time.
His dad stayed silent.
Of course he did.
Wut looked back at Phol.
Really looked.
"…You're the friend's son?"
Phol held his gaze.
"Yes."
Of course.
Of course it was him.
Wut let out a short breath, somewhere between disbelief and something else he didn't want to name.
"…Of course it is."
Because of course—
Out of everyone it could have been—
It was the one person he had been trying to avoid.
The one person he hadn't been able to stop thinking about.
The one person—
Standing right in front of him now.
And this time—
There was no distance left to hide behind.