Too Late

The weeks after Lisa's last encounter with Gun stretched endlessly, taut like the string of a violin pulled to its breaking point. BLACKPINK's schedule was relentless—rehearsals, photoshoots, press appearances—but Lisa moved through it like a shadow. Present. Smiling. Hollow.

At first, no one noticed. But soon, one by one, they began to feel it.

Not together.

Not aloud.

Just… privately. Quietly.

Jisoo was the first.

It was nearly 3 AM. After a punishing overseas event, the hotel was hushed except for the city's hum outside the windows. She went to the kitchenette for tea and found Lisa sitting on the couch, motionless, her eyes glued to the black screen of her phone.

"Lisa?" Jisoo called softly.

No response.

Lisa's fingers were locked around the device, knuckles white, lips parted in a smile far too serene to be real.

"You okay?"

Lisa blinked, slow and unfocused, and turned to her. "He didn't ask for my number."

"Who?"

"Gun." Her voice thinned. "He left. After everything. Not even a message. But maybe…" Her eyes lit faintly, madly. "Maybe it's because he's trying to protect me. That must be it."

Jisoo frowned. "Maybe he's just… waiting? For the right time? And why are even waiting for his call or message?"

Lisa laughed quietly, bitterly. "Time. As if I have the luxury. I'll find him. Even if I have to tear open the sky and burn down the world."

There was a sharpness in her voice—a glint of something jagged beneath the calm.

Jisoo said nothing else. She backed away, a chill crawling up her spine.

—

Jennie noticed next. During rehearsal.

Lisa, who usually danced like fire incarnate, kept missing the same step.

"Lili, what's going on?" Jennie finally snapped, exasperated.

Lisa was panting, eyes glassy, sweat clinging to her brow. "Nothing. Let's go again."

"You've missed that same move three times."

Lisa turned to the mirror, gripping its edge like a lifeline. Then, slowly, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny old locket—Gun's.

"I can't focus," she said. "He hasn't come for me. It's been weeks. But I know he's thinking about me. I see him every night. In my dreams. When I wake up, it's like he just stepped out of the room."

Jennie's voice dropped. "Lisa, maybe you need to talk to someone. This sounds like—"

"I don't need help," Lisa cut in, her voice trembling—but her eyes burned. "I need him. You don't understand. He's not just a man. He's the only truth in this world. If someone tried to take him from me… I'd kill them."

Jennie's blood ran cold. Something in her gut twisted hard.

—

Rosé's moment came quietly. In the green room, surrounded by chatter and hairdryers.

Lisa sat apart, doodling.

That wasn't unusual. Lisa often sketched—flowers, mandalas, patterns. But this time, Rosé saw rows and rows of eyes. All of them identical. All of them Gun's.

"Cool design," she said gently.

Lisa didn't look up. "They follow me in my sleep."

Rosé blinked. "Sorry?"

"In my dreams. His eyes. Watching me. Guiding me. Or maybe warning me. I can't tell yet."

Rosé chuckled uneasily. "That's… vivid."

Lisa finally looked at her. "Love is vivid. The kind that seeps into your marrow. That you'd kill for. That you'd torch the world for. That's the kind of love this is."

Rosé froze mid-sentence, her brush hovering over her cheek.

Lisa smiled. "You wouldn't understand. But soon, I'll be with him again. I feel it. Fate's already cracking."

—

The last realization came from Minji, their manager.

She entered Lisa's room with the week's schedule—then stopped cold.

The walls.

Covered.

Every inch of wallpaper drowned beneath sketches of Gun: his face from every angle. His body mid-motion. Some showed him smiling. Others bleeding. One showed him cradling a heart—Lisa's—in his hands.

Minji swallowed hard.

Lisa looked up, eyes bright. "I still haven't captured him. Not his soul. But I'm close."

Minji left the schedule on the dresser and exited silently.

—

That night, the three girls met without Lisa.

"She's not okay," Jisoo murmured.

Jennie exhaled sharply. "She's obsessed. And not in a cute way."

"I saw her talking to a drawing," Rosé whispered. "Said it still smelled like him and it's his."

"She told me she'd kill anyone who looked at him the wrong way," Jennie said.

"She told me," Jisoo added, "that she'd burn the world for him."

Silence.

Rosé broke it. "She says it's love. But it doesn't feel like love. It feels like… ruin."

—

And Lisa?

Lisa kept drawing. Kept dreaming. Kept waiting. Kept talking to the locket Gun gave her.

Her love wasn't just affection—it was doctrine. Worship. Something sacred and unshakable. And with each day that passed without Gun, the fire in her soul burned hotter. Darker.

They didn't yet know how far she'd go.

But they would.

Very soon.

It was nearing midnight. The apartment was dark, save for the soft glow from the corner lamp that cast long shadows on the walls. The air was thick with tension, an invisible fog of dread hanging over them. Jisoo sat cross-legged on the couch, nervously tapping her phone against her thigh. Rosé leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her brows furrowed in concern. Jennie paced slowly, biting her lower lip, her eyes flickering to the door every few seconds.

"She's not well," Rosé said finally. Her voice was soft, but certain. "You've seen it too."

"I don't even know who she is anymore," Jisoo murmured. "She used to be... Lisa. Laughing. Dancing. Always the sunshine in the room. Now she's—"

"Obsessed," Jennie finished. "With him. Gun."

They all fell into silence, the name hanging heavy in the air like a curse.

"We can't ignore this anymore," Rosé added. "She needs us."

Jennie nodded, her expression tightening. "Then let's talk to her. Tonight. Before it's too late."

Lisa walked in wearing her usual oversized hoodie, damp hair clinging to her cheeks from a late-night shower. Her eyes darted to the three of them instantly, sensing the shift in energy. She froze in place, expression unreadable.

"What?" she asked, her tone wary.

"Sit," Jennie said, gesturing to the armchair.

Lisa didn't move. Her gaze sharpened, defensive.

"Lisa," Rosé tried gently. "We just want to talk. Please."

With a reluctant sigh, Lisa walked over and dropped into the chair, her arms folding tightly over her chest.

"It's about Gun," Jisoo said.

Silence. A dangerous stillness.

"You're not okay," Jennie said carefully. "You're... losing yourself."

"We've watched you spiral, Lisa," Rosé said, kneeling in front of her. "You don't eat right. You barely sleep. You zone out during rehearsals. You're not here. You're somewhere else—with him."

Lisa's fingers twitched. Her jaw tightened. Her lips parted, then closed again.

"Do you even hear yourself when you talk about him?" Jisoo whispered. "It's like... you're possessed."

Lisa's eyes dropped to the floor. Then, suddenly, she laughed. A soft, hollow, dangerous laugh that sent shivers down their spines.

"You want to know the truth?" she whispered.

She stood up slowly, like a predator rising from the shadows. Her voice dropped to a low, breathy whisper. "You have no idea what he is. What he makes me feel. You think this is some childish crush? A silly obsession?"

Her head tilted, eyes gleaming with something feral.

"It wasn't like this at first. The first time we met, I barely noticed him. Just another mystery. But then... on the second ride. When I asked him, 'If we were together, would you burn the world down for me if I ask you?' and he didn't even hesitate. He said yes. Just like that. No thought. No fear."

Her smile twisted. Her voice deepened with passion and madness.

"That yes cracked something inside me. That calmness... that terrifying certainty. He didn't care about the consequences. He just saw me. Me, Lisa. And from that moment... everything else faded."

She began to pace, her fingers trailing along the edges of the table.

"I don't care that I've only seen him twice. I know. I feel it in every breath, every heartbeat. When I walked up those stairs after watching him disappear into the night... every step felt like a vow. He is mine. My love, my devotion, my obsession."

She turned on them, her voice cracking with desperation.

"I want his love. His undying love. His chaos. His darkness. I want him to see only me. If he ever looked at another girl, I swear... I would burn her alive. I would carve the world apart just to make him mine again."

Rosé gasped, backing away slightly.

Lisa's eyes brimmed with tears, but they weren't sorrowful. They were furious. Longing. Unhinged.

"I had someone before," she whispered. "How dare I? How dare I let anyone else touch me? Smile at me? I want to rip myself apart for it. My body is his. My soul is his."

Her smile returned, but this time it wasn't warm. It was the smile of something primal.

"I dream of him touching me. Not just with kindness, but also with claiming. I want to feel him like a storm ripping through my sanity. I want to bleed for him, burn for him. Die for him."

Jisoo backed away.

"Lisa... this isn't love," Jennie said, tears forming. "This is... terrifying."

"No," Lisa replied, softly. "This is the purest love there is. A wolf finds its mate once. And I've found mine."

The silence that followed was thunderous.

Rosé's face was pale, her hands trembling.

"We can't let this go on," she whispered to the others. "She's too far gone."

"What do we do?" Jisoo asked, near tears.

"We find him," Jennie said, her voice trembling. "Gun. We find out what the hell he did to her."

"Without Lisa knowing," Rosé added quickly.

Jisoo looked back at Lisa, who had collapsed onto the couch, lost in her twisted euphoria.

"We have to," Jennie said again, firmer. "Before we lose her for good."

Later that night, the three sat in their apartment, surrounded by tea cups and cold takeout containers. The air was heavy with dread.

"You saw her eyes," Rosé whispered. "She wasn't there. Not fully."

"We need to know who Gun really is," Jennie said. "Maybe he's some kind of manipulator. Some psychological abuser."

"Or maybe... maybe he's just a man," Jisoo added, uncertain. "And she's the one who went too far."

"Either way," Jennie said, standing, "we find him. Tomorrow. No matter what."