Jun sat on the bed opposite Kind, casually towel-drying his hair, still damp from the shower. His presence filled the room with an odd warmth — not from heat, but from something calmer, softer. Kind tried not to glance again, tried to focus on the book now closed on his lap, but his mind… it was racing elsewhere.
"Jun," Kind said suddenly, without looking up.
"Hm?" the taller boy hummed, still rubbing his hair.
"Can I ask something?"
Jun paused and met his gaze. "Of course."
Kind bit his lip. "Why are you so nice to me?"
Jun blinked.
"You take care of me. You worry about me. You… you even listen when I ramble," Kind said, a slight pink rising to his cheeks. "No one's done that for me in a while."
Jun's eyes softened. He didn't respond immediately. He stood up, walked slowly to the window, then leaned against the frame. Moonlight pooled around his figure as he looked out at the quiet hills beyond.
"It's not hard to be kind to someone who deserves it," Jun said quietly.
Kind's throat tightened. "You don't even know me that well."
Jun turned, his eyes meeting Kind's again — a little more serious now.
"I know enough," he said. "I know you care deeply, even when you try to hide it. I know you pretend to be fine just so others don't worry. I know you feel out of place — even when you smile in a room full of people."
Kind felt his heartbeat in his fingertips.
"I know," Jun continued gently, "because I feel the same."
A silence fell between them. Not uncomfortable — just heavy. Like something unspoken had finally touched the surface.
Kind tried to steady his breath. "Is that… why you picked that novel for me?"
Jun chuckled softly. "Kind of. I thought you'd see a little of yourself in the main character."
"I do," Kind admitted. "He hides his loneliness behind sarcasm… just like me."
Jun smiled faintly. "That's why I thought you might like it."
Kind leaned back against the headboard. "Thanks… for everything today."
"You don't need to thank me," Jun said as he walked closer again. "Just promise you'll let someone take care of you… once in a while."
Kind didn't respond with words. Instead, he gave a small nod — subtle but sincere.
A breeze came in from the open window, rustling the thin curtains. The faint sounds of the other students talking in the rooms nearby faded, and for a moment, the only thing Kind could hear was Jun's steady breath across the room.
He opened the book again, flipping to the page where he left off.
Jun watched him for a second, then grabbed his own book from the bag and quietly sat on the bed across.
Two boys, two books — one room wrapped in the stillness of midnight and moonlight.
And yet, in Kind's heart, it didn't feel still at all.
It felt like something had just begun.
Birds chirped outside the wooden windows as the faint sunlight spilled through the curtains. Kind stirred slowly, eyes blinking open to the soft orange glow in the room. He turned slightly to his right and saw Jun, still asleep on the bed across — sprawled halfway under the blanket, with one arm over his eyes and his chest slowly rising and falling in rhythm.
Kind smiled faintly, the memory of last night washing over him. It wasn't just the conversation or the soft exchange under moonlight — it was the way he felt for the first time in a long time: safe.
He sat up, stretched quietly, then tiptoed into the bathroom to freshen up. By the time he came out, Jun was already up and stretching too, his hair a mess and eyes still a little sleepy.
"You snore," Kind teased lightly, drying his face with a towel.
Jun yawned. "I don't snore. I breathe aggressively in my sleep."
They both laughed — and for a moment, it felt like something new had begun to form between them. Something neither of them could quite name yet.
Breakfast Time
All the students were now gathered in the homestay's dining area, sitting at tables neatly lined with cups of tea, sel roti, boiled eggs, and aloo curry. Kind sat beside Jun, listening to the chatter and gossip circling around. But a whisper from two boys behind him caught his attention.
"Did you hear about that closed building we passed on the way?" one boy said.
"The grey one with the fence? Yeah. Someone said it used to be a government facility or something shady."
"Mean was supposed to investigate that, right?" the other whispered.
Kind's hand froze halfway to his cup.
Mean? Investigate?
He turned slightly. "What are you guys talking about?"
The two boys went quiet, startled to be overheard.
"Uh—it's nothing. Just rumors," one said, trying to laugh it off.
But Kind's chest felt heavy.
That building. The one they had passed — it had barbed wire, faded government signage, and no people around. It hadn't registered then. But now…
He turned to Jun, whose face was unreadable, spoon paused above his plate.
"You know something," Kind said softly.
Jun looked down, sighing through his nose. "I didn't want to tell you before the trip started."
"Tell me now."
Jun didn't answer immediately. He looked around — making sure no one was paying close attention — and then leaned closer.
"That place is connected to the missing kids case."
Kind's breath caught.
Jun continued, voice low: "It used to be a juvenile holding facility. But some of the students from low-income families that were sent there for 'counseling' never returned. Win and Mean found patterns — especially tied to our school and one other."
Kind's lips parted. "And that's why Mean didn't come?"
Jun nodded. "Win's mom's in the hospital. Mean used his savings to help them — and took a job in Pokhara for a few days… to get closer to that facility."
A shiver ran down Kind's spine.
"How long have you known?"
"A while," Jun said, eyes meeting his. "But I wasn't just here for this trip."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm undercover," Jun whispered. "I'm here to find out what happened to the missing students. And now…" he glanced toward the window, where the hills stretched beyond the road, "…I might need your help.