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← The Beast Who Asks

Ep. 4

Untitled

2026-06-15

Cast: Keon

Your shoes. I heard it took three days. …Rian told you.

Is it okay if I'm the one who finds out? Why won't you just say it. Directly.

I was afraid it would weigh you down. It's heavy even without you saying it. Even now.

It wasn't the third time. It was the fourth.

It's just the cold. Nothing more. …But my fingers were already counting that warmth.

The gap between them hadn't closed. Still, their hands were touching.

Between night and dawn, the light of the threshold

You should've pulled away if it went numb. I thought you'd let go. Couldn't.

For the first time, a direction not along the ridge

Something rose up, then sank back down under its own weight.

Beneath what was extinguished, something still alive

What about Rian? I made sure he didn't come.

Last night, the two of us being alone… it wasn't a coincidence.

At the edge of the bench, a pair of shoes

For three days… they've been sitting here.

When did he even look at my feet? No one else's. Mine.

…The mountain path's rough. You'll hurt your feet. You've never even measured my feet.

…At the well. When you were taking your shoes off.

Why'd you leave it without a word? If you were going to give it to me. Because what if I handed it to you and you didn't take it.

If I left it, you wouldn't know even if you didn't take it. Not because I've never been given anything— but because I've been given something and lost it.

The empty space between us, drifting toward a place long deferred

It means nothing. Just the past. …But my ankle kept counting every degree of that warmth.

Let me do it. You said your arm was numb. This much, I can handle.

If you can't say it. Why did you make those shoes, then. Three whole days.

There was a time. I made shoes for someone. Before. For someone else.

That time too, it took three days. On my way to give them. On that road, I couldn't bring myself to.

Stopping just half a step short — that wasn't a flaw. It was a wound.

A single sound of presence told the end of dawn.

It wasn't that I failed to give them — I was the one who put them on.

It's not that I couldn't give it to you. Not this time.

Without leaving me anywhere to run — he truly looked at me for the first time.

You said you picked it up at the corner. Yes. I picked it up.

That person. They went far away. While I was still hesitating.

So that's why I couldn't reach out. If I reach out and it's too late — I won't survive it a second time.

His arm was the one going numb, yet it was always me who couldn't breathe.

He said it'd be around noon. But the dawn passed too fast.

Even my footsteps couldn't shake him loose.

More than just refusing to take it back.

Last night, I didn't know what came next. This time, I think I do— and my breath went shallow.

Even with fear still burning inside me— still, you.

…Because I don't want it to be too late.

It wasn't that I couldn't pull away. I chose not to.

Come up. We need to talk. Whether that 'talk' was for Rian, or the words still half-unspoken— I couldn't tell.

The one word that would follow 'I don't want it to be too late.'

As if saying he would be there. Just once.