Chapter 72 — The First Echo
11:57 AM
Hour Twelve of the 48-Hour Broadcast
AUREUS Dorms — Kitchen Cam
The fans were watching the chaos unfold in real time.
Sungchan had somehow burned toast without turning on the stove. Minjae was trying to plate instant ramen like a Michelin chef. Hyunjae had cut his finger twice on a butter knife. Rin was silently cleaning up behind them all, his frustration showing only in the tight set of his jaw.
The chat was full of laughter.
But the camera briefly flickered.
Shifted.
And landed—just for a second—on Jaeheon.
He wasn't doing anything.
Just holding his phone.
And then—
A buzz.
Small. Nearly silent.
But he felt it.
The screen blinked.
His breath caught.
One notification.
One name.
A name he'd memorized down to the syllables.
A name he'd whispered in music but never spoken aloud.
And beneath it—
A reply.
Six months.
Six months of silence.
And now—two words.
"I watched."
Nothing more.
No punctuation. No context. No certainty of tone.
But it didn't matter.
It shattered him.
Not visibly. Not with tears. Not with any outward show.
But inside?
It was the loudest silence he'd ever felt.
He looked down again.
Not to read it again.
Just… to confirm it was real.
12:02 PM — Camera Angle Switches
The livestream had no idea.
The screen showed Sungchan dramatically wiping fake tears with a paper towel, and Minjae mock-interviewing Rin as the "cleaning fairy."
The fans were distracted.
Which was good.
Because Jaeheon—off-camera, just out of frame—pressed his fingers to his lips.
As if trying to hold something in.
He didn't smile.
He didn't cry.
He just closed his eyes for two seconds.
Then opened the notes app.
And wrote.
"She saw."
Meanwhile — Volkov Estate, Northern Hemisphere
The snow was thick outside her private estate.
Anastasia stood at the tall windows of her study, expression unreadable.
The AI behind her—sleek, humanoid, silent—had detected it before she had even looked.
[Subject: Kang Jaeheon | Reaction Logged: Heart Rate Spike | Emotional Resonance Detected]
A soft chime.
"Your message has been received, Miss Volkov."
She didn't reply immediately.
Instead, she walked to her desk.
Opened her own device.
The messages were there—hundreds of them.
Every detail of his day. Every song. Every trivial thing.
She had never read them until last week.
But she had read all of them now.
Every single one.
And today…
She had replied.
Only once.
But that was enough—for now.
Back in the Dorm — Jaeheon's POV
He typed nothing back.
He wouldn't ruin the stillness.
She had spoken.
He would let that moment breathe.
Let it live.
silence had answered back.
And it was louder than any applause he'd ever heard.