182: Chapter 182 The president doesn't seem to be looking at me at all.

Returning from the rooftop restaurant to the hotel room corridor, the lights were a soft, warm yellow, and walking on the thick carpet, footsteps were barely audible.

Krystal Jung walked to the door of the room she shared with Sulli, hand on the doorknob, and paused for a few seconds.

Her heart was still thumping gently from the conversation on the rooftop, but it wasn't the prickly, anxious beating from before; it was a complex feeling mixed with shyness, clarity, and a trace of inexplicable stability.

She took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

Only one bedside lamp was on in the room, casting dim light.

Sulli was curled up in the single armchair by the window, knees drawn up, chin resting on her knees, staring blankly at the night view of Paris outside.

Hearing the door open, she immediately turned her head, her eyes filled with worry that she hadn't managed to hide, along with a hint of caution.

"Krystal?" she called out softly, sitting up a little straighter.

"Mm, unnie, I'm back." Krystal closed the door, her voice softer than usual. She walked to her bed, sat down, and began to take off her coat.

The air was quiet for a few seconds, with only the faint sounds of the city night coming from outside the window.

"That..." Sulli's voice was light, tentative, "The President isn't angry, is he?"

Krystal paused in the middle of taking off her coat, then shook her head and hung it in the wardrobe. "No."

She turned around to look at Sulli. Sulli was wearing a soft cotton nightdress, hair draped loosely over her shoulders. In the dim light, her pure face held obvious anxiety, like a small animal worried about being scolded by its owner.

The lingering, indescribable emotion in Krystal's heart suddenly dissipated for the most part the moment she saw this expression on her unnie. Replacing it was a clear sense of guilt.

What on earth was she overthinking? And why did she use such words to prick this unnie who always treated the world with the purest of intentions?

"unnie," Krystal started, her voice a bit dry, "I'm sorry."

Sulli blinked, seemingly not having reacted yet: "...Eh?"

"For the things I said at dinner." Krystal walked to the bed opposite Sulli and sat down, closing the distance between them so they could clearly see the expressions on each other's faces. "I'm sorry, I... I was a bit difficult. I said things that made you feel bad."

Sulli waved her hands quickly, her movements a bit hurried: "No, no, I didn't feel bad! I was just... just a little worried, wondering if I said something wrong or did something wrong..." Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her nightdress.

Seeing her like this, the guilt in Krystal's heart grew even stronger. She pursed her lips and decided to be honest. Some things, hidden in the heart, would only ferment into something worse; it was better to lay them out clearly. Just like the President said, communication.

"It's not your fault, unnie." Krystal's voice was very serious, "It's my problem. These past few days... I've been, um, overthinking."

"Overthinking?" Sulli tilted her head in confusion.

"Mm. It's just that I felt the President was especially good to you."

Krystal nodded, organizing her words, trying to sound calm and objective rather than complaining or accusing, "At the studio, he was always by your side, whispering to you, helping you translate, guiding you to look at your shots, and even taking you out to eat good food."

She paused, looking into Sulli's eyes, "I was a little envious. And a little worried."

"Envious? Worried?" Sulli was even more confused. She understood every word Krystal said, but when put together, she didn't quite understand.

"Envious that he takes such good care of you, worried..." Krystal took a breath and said it anyway, "Worried that this kind of care... might be a bit different."

Once it reached this point, Sulli understood even if she was slow. Her eyes widened slightly, a flash of astonishment crossing her face, followed by a flush, but not the shy kind; it was more like she was anxious.

"Ya! Krystal Jung!" Sulli rarely called her by her full name in such a reproachful tone. She stood up from the sofa and walked a few steps to Krystal. Because she was anxious, her speaking speed increased, "What are you thinking about! The President is good to all of us!"

She took Krystal's hand and held it in her palm. Sulli's hands were very warm, with the characteristic softness of a girl. "He teaches me because I'm too stupid!"

She said it righteously, even with a bit of self-deprecation, "I don't know the language, my personality is dull, and I'm timid. Seeing a big figure like Ms. Durand, I was so nervous I didn't know where to put my hands. If the President wasn't by my side, I might not have been able to say a single word, and I wouldn't have taken good photos either."

She looked at Krystal, her eyes clear, without a trace of gloom or concealment: "He was helping me, teaching me how to work, how to relax in a strange environment. This isn't just being good to me alone. Krystal, he is very good to you too!"

"At dinner, he remembered you don't like cream soup and specifically changed it for you. When we went shopping yesterday, didn't he come to see you try on clothes too? He even gave you advice, didn't he?"

Krystal froze. She did remember that yesterday at the department store, when she was trying on a coat, the President happened to pass by and casually said, "The color is a bit heavy, try light gray or beige," and then walked away. She didn't think much of it at the time, just thinking it was a casual comment from the President. But now that Sulli said it like this...

"The President... he's like the parent who brought us out this time. No, more like..." Sulli tried hard to find a suitable metaphor, her brows furrowed slightly, then her eyes lit up, "More like a dad! Yes, reliable like a dad!"

"A dad?" Krystal was almost choked by this metaphor.

"Mm!" Sulli nodded forcefully, affirming her statement very seriously, "That's exactly the feeling! Although my dad... um, is a bit different."

A trace of loneliness that was hard to catch flashed across her eyes, but it was quickly covered by a brighter light, "But the feeling the President gives me is that as long as he is there, you don't have to be afraid of getting lost, don't have to be afraid of not understanding what others are saying, and don't have to be afraid of not doing things well."

"He will tell you what to do, will protect you, and will give you space to try. Isn't this what a dad would do?"

She said it so naturally, so matter-of-factly, as if "The President is like a dad" was the most correct conclusion. Even because she found this excellent metaphor, a small, satisfied expression appeared on her face, and her cheeks were flushed with excitement.

Krystal looked at this Sulli unnie, unable to speak for a moment.

The rolling thoughts of sourness and suspicion in her heart, under the gaze of her sister's eyes that were clear without a trace of impurity, and under the bombardment of this "Dad Theory," suddenly seemed so ridiculous, so self-inflicted.

Yes, Sulli unnie's world was sometimes as simple and transparent as a crystal. She relied on the President and trusted the President because the President gave her the most direct help and sense of security when she was most at a loss.

This reliance was that of a child towards an elder, an apprentice towards a mentor, a lost person towards a guide. Pure, direct, without any ambiguous impurities.

And she, however, used such complex, adult-like, even showbiz-style suspicious thoughts to speculate, to envy, and even to be difficult because of it, saying hurtful things...

Krystal suddenly felt her cheeks burning, even hotter than when the President pointed it out on the rooftop earlier. But this time, it wasn't shame, but a relief after letting go, and a helpless amusement at her own previous little thoughts.

"unnie, you really..." She couldn't help but cover her forehead and let out a low laugh. That laugh contained self-deprecation, but also relief.

"What's wrong with me?" Sulli blinked, looking innocent, then thought of something, tightened her grip on Krystal's hand, and her tone became soft and worried, "But Krystal, did you think that way because you were worried about me? Thank you... but there's really no need to worry."

"The President is a very, very good person, but he... um, is like a very, very high mountain, or a very, very bright lighthouse? We can get close and get guidance and warmth from him, but a mountain is a mountain, and a lighthouse is a lighthouse."

She spoke a bit chaotically, but the meaning was expressed very clearly. In her heart, the President was an object of admiration and reliance, a source of security, but that emotion was clear and open, not involving anything else.

Krystal held Sulli's hand back and squeezed it hard. "Mm, I know, unnie. It was me who thought wrongly." She paused, took the folded Polaroid out of her pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to Sulli. "Look at this."

Sulli took it curiously and looked at it by the light of the bedside lamp. In the photo, it was yesterday at the Luxembourg Garden, she was looking up and laughing, and the President was looking down at her slightly, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the leaves, the picture was beautiful.

"This is the 'evidence' I... um, misunderstood a bit." Krystal said with some embarrassment.

Sulli looked at the photo, her eyes curved: "It's taken so well! Krystal, you captured it so well! I look so happy in this photo! The President's expression is also very... um, gentle?"

She looked carefully and suddenly laughed out loud, pointing to the direction of Song Tianhao's eyes, "But Krystal, look, the President doesn't seem to be looking at me at all."

"Eh?" Krystal was stunned and leaned over.

Sulli's finger pointed vaguely at where Song Tianhao's gaze fell: "Look, it seems he's looking at the road sign behind me? Is he looking at where we should go next? I remember at that time he seemed to be saying, 'Let's go over there and take a look next'?"

Krystal: "..." She looked at the photo, and indeed, there was a blurry green road sign shadow behind her, in the direction of the President's gaze. At the time, she was only focused on the relative positions and expressions of the President and Sulli unnie, and didn't notice this detail at all.

Now that she was "reminded" by Sulli, combined with what the President said on the rooftop about "a captured moment does not represent the whole truth," she suddenly felt like that was really the case?

A more intense feeling, mixed with embarrassment and amusement, welled up in her heart. What on earth was she agonizing over before!

"Pfft—!" Krystal couldn't help but laugh out loud, this time a real, relaxed laugh, "It seems it really is. Your eyes are sharp, unnie."

"Right, right!" Sulli seemed to have discovered something interesting, laughing until her eyes narrowed into crescent moons, holding the photo like a treasure, looking at it again, and then saying naturally, "Can you give this photo to me? I want to keep it, this Paris trip was really happy."

"Of course." Krystal nodded with a smile. That photo, which triggered a series of her little thoughts, now looked like just an ordinary souvenir recording a beautiful moment. The suspicion and sourness attached to it were colors she had forcibly added herself.

The two sisters looked at each other and smiled. The previous vague estrangement and awkwardness completely dissipated in this laughter and honest exchange.

Sulli excitedly pulled Krystal to discuss what to buy at the duty-free shop at the airport tomorrow, what gifts to bring for the members, chattering away, returning to her usual liveliness. Krystal listened patiently, occasionally adding a few words, her heart filled with tranquility.

Outside the window in Paris, the lights were gradually thinning, and the night was deep. But the lights in the room were warm, and the girls' laughter was light. Tomorrow, they would leave this city, carrying different gains and growth, and return to the familiar track. But regarding certain things, certain relationships, they seemed to have a new, clearer understanding.

The next day at noon, Charles de Gaulle Airport, First Class Lounge.

[part:gemini-3.5-flash]

Song Tianhao sat in a sofa by the window, a thin laptop resting on his lap. On the screen was a summary of several documents and an itinerary sent by Jang Se-hoon from Seoul. He browsed through them quickly, his fingers occasionally sliding across the trackpad.

On another set of sofas diagonally opposite him, Sulli and Krystal sat together, with juices and small pastries just brought by the waiter placed before them. The two girls were talking in low voices, light laughter drifting over from time to time. The atmosphere was clearly much more relaxed and harmonious than during dinner last night.

Sulli wore a goose-yellow knit sweater today paired with light-colored jeans, her long hair loosely braided to the side, making her look fresh and lively. Krystal, on the other hand, was dressed in a simple black hoodie and slim-fit pants, her long hair let down, and with only light makeup on, looking neat and a bit cool.

The two sat very close. Sulli was holding her phone, showing Krystal something, and Krystal nodded as she watched, a gentle smile on the corner of her lips.

Song Tianhao shifted his gaze from the laptop screen, subtly sweeping it over them. Seeing the natural and intimate interaction between the two, a barely perceptible softening flickered in his eyes before he refocused his attention on the documents.

After returning to his room last night, he had only briefly replied to Sulli's message. Some things were best left with just a gentle nudge, leaving the remaining space for them to digest and resolve on their own. Looking at it now, the effect was quite good.

The boarding announcement chimed in the lounge. Song Tianhao closed his laptop and stood up. Sulli and Krystal also hurriedly packed their things and followed behind him toward the boarding gate.

The flight from Paris back to Seoul would take over ten hours. The first-class cabin was spacious and private. The seating layout was 1-2-1; Song Tianhao's seat was by the window, while Sulli and Krystal's seats were the two adjacent ones in the middle.

After stowing their carry-on luggage and buckling their seatbelts, the plane taxied down the runway, accelerated, lifted off, passed through the clouds, and entered a steady cruising altitude. The light outside the window gradually shifted from a bright afternoon sky to a steady, high-altitude azure.

The flight attendant brought welcome drinks and hot towels. Song Tianhao asked for a glass of water, put on his noise-canceling headphones, and pulled a financial magazine from his carry-on bag, seemingly planning to pass the long flight by reading and resting.

He adjusted his seat to find a comfortable position, his eyes landing on the magazine. His profile looked quiet and focused under the soft overhead lights of the cabin, as if he had already entered a world of his own.

Sulli and Krystal sat side by side, separated only by a narrow armrest. Sulli sat on the side closer to the window, her head turned to look at the marshmallow-like sea of clouds outside, a hint of reluctance in her eyes. Krystal pulled out her tablet and plugged in her headphones, preparing to watch a movie.

The main cabin lights dimmed slightly, creating an atmosphere suitable for resting. Only the light from the reading lamps above the seats and the screens outlined the quiet silhouettes of the passengers. The engines emitted a low, continuous hum, like a hypnotic white noise.

Less than half an hour into the movie, Krystal became a bit distracted. She paused it, took off one side of her headphones, and turned to look at Sulli beside her. Sulli was still looking out the window, her profile quiet, leaving one wondering what she was thinking.

Krystal pursed her lips. Although they had already talked things through last night, some words seemed better spoken in a more private, undisturbed environment. For instance, a more formal apology and a deeper conversation.

She gently nudged Sulli's arm. Sulli turned her head, her eyes filled with inquiry.

Krystal took off her other earphone and set the tablet aside. She leaned in slightly, getting closer to Sulli, and spoke in a low voice that only the two of them could hear, her tone more serious and sincere than ever before.

"unnie."

"Hmm?"

"About yesterday... I'm sorry," Krystal said, looking at her, enunciating each word. "I shouldn't have spoken like that, embarrassing you and misunderstanding you and the CEO."

Sulli quickly shook her head, also lowering her voice. "No, Krystal, it's really okay. I understand everything." She reached out and gently held Krystal's hand resting on the armrest, her palm warm. "You were just worried about me."

She smiled sheepishly. "Besides, I didn't think that much about it. If you hadn't said anything, I wouldn't even have known you thought that way."

"It was me who overthought things," Krystal confessed, holding Sulli's hand in return. "These past few days, seeing the CEO take such good care of you and teach you so much, I was a little... envious."

"I felt like you were making progress so fast, unnie, and that the CEO valued you so much. Then I took that photo and got myself into a hornets' nest. I even said something like 'getting too close will make you lose your way.' Looking back now, it was really childish."

Sulli squeezed her hand, her eyes shining with complete trust and understanding. "It wasn't childish at all! You were just caring about me, Krystal! I know that!"

She paused, her voice growing even softer and more serious. "The CEO is good to us, but that kind of goodness is because he hopes we'll become better and go further. It's like... like a lighthouse, right? It lights the path for us, but we still have to walk it ourselves."

She glanced across the aisle at Song Tianhao, who seemed to be resting with his eyes closed, and leaned close to Krystal's ear, whispering with a touch of excitement from sharing a secret and a strange sense of reliance, "Besides, with the CEO around, it's like having a super reliable dad backing us up. There's nothing to be afraid of!

Even though he looks a bit serious sometimes, he's actually very attentive and reliable!"

She had used the "dad" metaphor again, speaking so naturally and with such certainty, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Listening to her and looking into Sulli's eyes, which were so clear they reflected her own image, the last lingering trace of awkwardness in Krystal's heart—one she hadn't even been clearly aware of herself—finally dissipated completely, replaced by a warm feeling.

Her unnie was just that kind of person. Pure, simple, easy to rely on, and easily satisfied. She would be happy for half the day over a single piece of guidance from the CEO, and would get incredibly excited over taking a good photo. Her affection and trust for others came directly and openly, without any impurities.

Her own previous convoluted thoughts seemed so redundant, even somewhat laughable, in front of her.

"Yeah," Krystal nodded vigorously, a genuine, relaxed smile appearing on her face. "unnie is right. The CEO is a lighthouse, and... a very reliable patriarch." She could finally say this metaphor naturally as well.

"Right?!" Sulli laughed even more happily, as if she had received validation, shallow dimples appearing on her cheeks.

She suddenly remembered something and carefully pulled out that Polaroid from her carry-on bag to show Krystal. Pointing at the blurry green shadow in front of Song Tianhao's line of sight in the photo, she lowered her voice, with a bit of pride and playfulness:

"See, I told you the CEO was looking at the road sign! Your photography skills are really good, Krystal, capturing even the road sign. It proves my 'dad' was seriously finding the way for us!"

She deliberately emphasized the word "dad" slightly, even winking at Krystal.

Krystal was taken aback at first, but then she realized Sulli was using her own way to further diffuse the awkwardness brought by last night's photo, even with a bit of playfulness.

Looking at Sulli's intentionally goofy expression, she finally couldn't help but let out a soft giggle, quickly covering her mouth with her hand, though her shoulders shook uncontrollably.

"unnie, you really are..." She laughed so hard she almost teared up.

Sulli also covered her mouth, her eyes curving into crescent moons. In their spacious seats, because of this little secret and joke, the two sisters put their heads together, their shoulders shaking with laughter. Yet, fearing they would disturb others if they laughed too loudly, they could only try their best to hold it in, looking like two little squirrels who had stolen some nuts.

On the other side of the aisle, by the window.

Song Tianhao seemed to be fast asleep, his noise-canceling headphones snugly covering his ears, his eyes closed, and his breathing steady. The financial magazine in his hand had slipped onto the blanket over his lap, completely still.

Only at the corner of his lips, a nearly invisible, tiny upward curve seemed to betray a hint of not being completely asleep. If one looked closely, they might even notice that his finger resting on the armrest had twitched ever so slightly.

But the two girls, immersed in their sisterly reconciliation and jokes, did not notice this detail.

After laughing, the atmosphere relaxed completely. Krystal took the Polaroid from Sulli's hand, looked at both sides, and then casually slipped it into the airline magazine in the seat pocket in front of her.

The photo that had caused a small stir had now become a tacit, warm little keepsake between the sisters, quietly resting between the glossy pages.

"Get some sleep, unnie, we still have a long flight ahead," Krystal said softly, pulling the blanket up a bit.

"Yeah," Sulli nodded, adjusting her posture and snuggling comfortably into the wide seat. With several consecutive days of travel, coupled with last night's emotional ups and downs, sleepiness quickly washed over her once she relaxed. She let out a tiny yawn, her long eyelashes drooping, and before long, her breathing became even and deep.

Looking at her peaceful sleeping face, Krystal also felt very at ease. She helped tuck in the corner of Sulli's blanket that had slipped, then adjusted her own seat and put on her eye mask. The cabin was dim and quiet, with only the low rumble of the engines. Soon, her consciousness also began to fade.

After an unknown amount of time, in a half-dreaming, half-awake state, Krystal felt someone gently approaching, bringing with them a familiar, faint scent.

She did not wake up completely, only feeling in a daze that a thicker, softer blanket seemed to have been placed over her, wrapping her in greater warmth and comfort. The movement was very gentle and careful, even tucking in the edges around her shoulders.

Was it a flight attendant? She thought vaguely, but it didn't seem like it. That scent was somewhat familiar...

Too sleepy to think further, she sank into a deeper slumber amidst the doubled warmth and cozy embrace.

By the aisle, Song Tianhao gently sat back in his seat. With an expressionless face, he reached out and turned off his overhead reading light. The cabin grew even dimmer, with only a few seats still glowing with faint light, outlining the sleeping silhouettes of the passengers.

He turned his head and looked out the window.

The plane was flying above a sea of clouds. Below was an endless, churning layer of clouds gleaming with a silver-gray luster under the moonlight, while the sky above was a deep blue bordering on pitch black, adorned with countless clear, sharp stars—brighter and closer than any starry sky seen from the ground.

The massive wings traced a steady arc under the starlight, and the roar of the engines was filtered by the excellent soundproofing material into a low background hum.

He quietly gazed at the vast starry sky outside, his eyes calm and reflecting the starlight, betraying no specific emotion. His slender fingers tapped gently on the armrest every now and then, as if silently counting the time or contemplating things only he knew.

In the reflection of the window, his well-defined profile was visible, along with the blurry, peaceful figures of the two girls sleeping side by side in the seats behind him.

The plane glided silently toward the east, toward Seoul, heading toward the horizon where dawn was about to break.