In the village, there’s no underground prison, and zombies don’t exist.

Yet, Jaekani (13 years old), a cheeky and skeptical boy, scoffed at the rumors.

But when he stumbled upon an abandoned building, the rumor resurfaced in his mind.

The steel bars peeking through the crumbled concrete bricks almost looked like the bars of a prison.

“Hello.”

Could the rumor be true?

But what was confined there wasn’t a zombie—it was a man.

Introducing himself as Huikyung, the man piqued Jaekani’s curiosity.

Though the boy asked him a flurry of questions, a sense of caution made him take a step back.

“…Well then, stay safely confined.”

“Sure. I’ll stay safely confined.”

* * *

“Hello, Jaekani.”

“…What now?”

“A flower ring.”

The ring, made of a flexible stem, was adorned with tiny flowers and leaves.

The small, colorful blooms clustered together like snow, soft and delicate.

“What kind of flower is this?”

“Clover.”

Jaekani tried the flower ring on each finger.

It was too small for his thumb, but it slid snugly onto his index or ring finger, as if it belonged there.

“…Why this time?”

“We made up with a ring last time, didn’t we? Let’s make up again.”

So we ‘did’ fight last time, didn’t we? Maybe it was just a bit of an argument.

Then, did we fight again this time? Wasn’t it more like I awkwardly left on my own?

…Is he trying to cheer me up when I sulk?

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