[PRESENT]

The night stretched on, the rooftop bar thinning as patrons began to trickle out, leaving behind the die-hard revelers and those too drunk to care about the time.

Winter Kim was firmly in the latter group, slumped on a stool next to Karina, a lazy grin plastered across her face as she swirled the last remnants of her drink.

“You know something, Sergeant Yu?” Winter slurred, her blonde hair falling into her face as she leaned closer, her eyes glassy but still sparkling with mischief. “You’re... really beautiful.”

Karina’s brow arched slightly, her calm composure unbroken. “Really?”

Winter’s grin widened, but then she stopped, narrowed her eyes, and crossed her arms with a dramatic flair. “No!” she huffed, her drunken indignation almost childlike. “I mean... yeah, but no! That’s not the point.”

Karina tilted her head, watching Winter’s erratic gestures with faint amusement.

Winter’s expression shifted, a pout forming as her drunken mind spiraled. “I don’t get it,” she muttered, her voice thick with frustration. She jabbed a finger toward Karina, though it barely made it past her own lap. “Why do you hate me? Huh? I didn’t do anything to you!”

Karina sighed softly, setting her glass down. “I don’t hate you, Kim.”

“Yes, you do!” Winter shot back, throwing her arms up in exasperation.

“You tortured me!” She gestured wildly around the bar, as though trying to encompass the entirety of her boot camp experience. “All of it. The yelling, the punishments, the stupid drills... it was all you!”

Her rant trailed off as she wobbled precariously on the stool, her head drooping. “You hated me from the start,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible now, the fight draining from her.

Karina leaned back, arms crossed, watching as Winter’s eyes fluttered closed mid-sentence. The blonde slumped forward, her forehead resting on the bar, the once-defiant soldier now completely out of steam.

Karina exhaled, long and slow, before signaling the bartender. She paid the tab without a word, then turned back to Winter, who was softly snoring against the counter.

For a moment, Karina simply stood there, her gaze lingering on the younger woman. Then she shook her head, her expression unreadable as she muttered, “What am I going to do with you, Kim?”

Adjusting her jacket, Karina gently draped it over Winter’s shoulders, shielding her from the cool breeze of the rooftop. Without another word, she turned away, letting the night reclaim its silence.

_

The late morning sun filtered through the rooftop bar’s tinted windows, casting muted rays on Winter Kim’s disheveled figure slumped in a chair. She groaned, a sharp headache pounding at her temples as she stirred awake. The faint memory of pounding music and too many drinks gnawed at the edges of her consciousness.

Then came the ringing.

Her phone buzzed incessantly, vibrating on the glass table in front of her. Groaning, Winter fumbled for it, squinting at the screen. Unknown number. She sighed and answered.

“Hello?” Her voice was hoarse, laden with grogginess.

“Private Kim,” a sharp voice snapped on the other end, instantly making her sit up. “You are required to report back immediately. This is non-negotiable.”

“What?!” Winter blurted, wincing as the sound of her own voice echoed in her skull. “But... my administrative posting doesn’t start until next week!”

“Orders are orders. Report back immediately.” The line went dead.

Winter stared at her phone, confusion mingling with irritation. She tossed it onto the table and slumped back, letting out a groan of frustration.

Only then did she realize she wasn’t cold. A jacket—a familiar one—was draped over her shoulders.

Her heart sank.

“Oh, no...” she muttered, yanking the jacket off and holding it in front of her. Karina’s name patch glared back at her, the sharp stitching mocking her.

Memories of last night rushed back in fragmented pieces: the drinks, the money gun, her loud declaration of Karina’s beauty, and her drunken rant about being tortured during boot camp. Winter groaned louder, covering her face with her hands.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, half to herself and half to the empty bar.

Her thoughts spiraled. Why had Karina left her jacket? Surely it wasn’t out of kindness. No way. Not Sergeant Yu.

“She probably thought I’d get sick and become useless to the army,” Winter reasoned aloud, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, that’s it. It’s not like she cares or anything.”

She shook her head, stuffing the jacket under her arm as she stood. The bartender, polishing glasses nearby, glanced at her as she approached.

“Hey,” she called, her voice still rough. “I need to pay for last night.”

The bartender gave her a knowing smile. “Already taken care of.”

Winter blinked, momentarily dumbfounded. “By who?”

“Your friend. The one who left the jacket.”

Winter’s grip on the jacket tightened, her confusion deepening. Why had Karina done that?

She shook her head, brushing off the thought. “Whatever,” she mumbled, turning away.

Making her way to the parking garage, Winter climbed into her favorite red car. As the engine purred to life, she glanced at the jacket on the passenger seat, its presence an unwelcome reminder of last night.

“I’ll just return it,” she muttered, pulling out onto the road. “And figure out what the hell is going on when I get there.”

With that, she sped toward the mansion, the weight of Karina’s actions lingering in the back of her mind.