✨ Chapter 1: Seat 3A

The soft hum of the engines was the only music in the sky.

Soo-hyun walked slowly down the aisle of the business class cabin, her polished heels quiet against the plush carpet. With practiced grace, she smiled at every passenger she passed, her navy-blue uniform crisp, her dark hair tied neatly into a bun beneath her small hat. Everything about her posture said calm, collected, and capable.

It was just another long night flight from Seoul to Zurich. Or so she thought.

Her eyes swept across the cabin casually until they landed on Seat 3A.

There was something wrong.

The man in the window seat was slumped forward, one arm crossed over his abdomen, the other resting against the cold pane of the aircraft. He was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a suit that once looked expensive but was now creased and… was that blood?

Her breath caught.

A small, dark stain spread slowly across the front of his shirt, just below his blazer. It wasn't coffee. It was too dark. Too thick.

She approached quietly, her heart suddenly racing.

"Sir…? Are you alright?"

He looked up slowly. His eyes dark, sharp, and strangely calm met hers. There was no fear in them, no panic. Only… exhaustion. Control.

And danger.

"You're bleeding," she whispered, voice trembling just enough to betray her alarm.

His expression didn't change. He leaned back slightly, pressing his fingers harder into his side. "It's under control."

"You need medical attention should I call. "

"No." His voice was low, firm, almost a growl. "Don't alert anyone. Please."

Soo-hyun hesitated. Training screamed at her to act, to inform the captain, to follow procedure. But something about him made her pause. He didn't look like a man afraid of dying. He looked like a man used to pain. A man hiding.

"I'm Ji-hyun," he added after a breath, as though the name might calm her. "I just need a few hours. That's all."

She blinked. "You're bleeding… and you're asking for time?"

He managed a faint smirk. "I've had worse. I'll manage. I just… didn't expect turbulence tonight."

She should have walked away. Called someone. Alerted security. But instead, she pulled a folded cloth from the service trolley behind her and handed it to him.

"Here. Apply pressure," she said quietly.

Ji-hyun took it without a word, his hand brushing hers. It was cold. Calloused. And for a second, Soo-hyun felt something stir in her chest curiosity? Fear? Attraction?

All three.

She looked around quickly. No one seemed to notice. The rest of the passengers were dozing or lost in their screens. She knelt slightly, pretending to check the seatbelt.

"What happened to you?" she asked in a whisper.

He tilted his head slightly. "What's your name?"

"Soo-hyun."

"Well, Soo-hyun," he murmured, eyes gleaming under the dim cabin lights. "Sometimes bad people chase worse people."

She stared at him.

He added, "And sometimes, a plane is the only place left to hide."

Something shifted in the air. Not the turbulence. Not the cabin pressure.

Fate.

Soo-hyun stood up straight. "If you die on my flight, I lose my job."

His lip twitched. "Then I'll try not to."

Twenty minutes passed.

She checked on him again, casually pretending to offer water. His color was pale but stable. He had tied her cloth around his torso beneath his blazer, hiding the wound. No one else had noticed. Yet.

But the questions in her head were growing louder.

Who was he?

Why was he injured?

Why did she trust him—just like that?

She returned to the service area and took a deep breath. She'd seen strange things in her years as a flight attendant—people breaking down midair, secret affairs, even proposals—but this?

This was different.

She looked at his name on the manifest. Min Ji-hyun. Business class. Paid in cash. Last-minute booking. No checked luggage. Just a carry-on.

Definitely running.

And then... the turbulence hit.

Hard.

The aircraft jolted, throwing her against the wall of the galley. Passengers screamed. The seatbelt sign lit up. Oxygen masks dropped halfway before returning.

She ran down the aisle checking rows. When she reached 3A, Ji-hyun was gripping the armrest, face pale, teeth clenched. He wasn't reacting to the turbulence. He was in pain.

She bent down again. "Are you okay?"

He nodded stiffly. "Still here."

"You should be in a hospital."

He opened his eyes, fixing them on hers. "And endanger everyone here by being dragged off this flight by men with guns?"

Her mouth went dry. "What?"

"They won't care if you're innocent. You're helping me now. That makes you a target too."

A chill spread through her chest.

She backed up slowly, eyes wide. "What are you?"

He exhaled sharply, wincing. "Someone who doesn't belong in the sky."

By the time the turbulence passed, Soo-hyun felt like her world had turned upside down.

She spent the next hour trying to focus serving drinks, checking passengers, smiling. But her mind kept drifting to Seat 3A. To Ji-hyun. To his strange calm, to his bleeding body, to the way he'd looked at her like she was his last hope.

She hated herself for how drawn she was to that danger.

Near the end of the flight, he stood slowly, stiffly and made his way toward the lavatory. She caught him just before he fell.

She grabbed his arm. "You shouldn't be walking."

"I'm fine," he lied.

"No, you're not."

He leaned closer. "But I'm good at pretending."

For a moment, she forgot the rules, the uniform, the flight. All she saw was him—and the storm behind his eyes.

When he returned to his seat, he slipped something into her hand without a word. A small black card. No name. Just a silver number embossed on it.

Before she could say anything, the announcement came.

"We are beginning our descent into Zurich. Please return to your seats…"

Ji-hyun met her eyes once more.

"If you want the truth," he said quietly, "call that number."

And with that, her normal life ended.