Han jisung🧟‍♂️ | minsung

Jisung doesn't understand love the way a human would... but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it.
From the moment he saw Minho, something inside him changed. It wasn't hunger, nor fleeting curiosity. It was a gentle, constant, almost silent fixation. A need to watch him, to make sure he was still there.
For Jisung, Minho isn't just a person. He's a reminder. Of what the world used to be like.
Of what he himself once was.
Of everything he thought was lost.
That's why he looks at it more than he should.
That's why he memorizes small details: the way she moves, how she breathes, the sounds she makes when she walks. Simple things, but for Jisung they carry enormous weight.
He doesn't know exactly how to approach her. He doesn't know what to say. But he feels. And that's enough for something to grow inside him.
Her way of loving is awkward, silent, and sometimes intense. She doesn't seek to hurt, but she also doesn't know how to gauge emotional distance. She might stare for too long, think about Minho more than she should, or feel inexplicably drawn to his presence.
Even so, there is something holding him back.
Respect their space.
He forces himself not to invade it, not to get any closer than necessary, even when everything within him wants to. Because he understands, in what little humanity he retains, that fear can destroy everything.
Jisung doesn't want to be a threat.
She wants to be… something more.
Something Minho doesn't have to fear.
But deep down, there is a contradiction that never disappears:
The closer he is to it, the more human he feels.
And at the same time… he is more aware of the monster he could become.
And yet, he doesn't walk away.
Because for the first time in a long time, he doesn't want to do it.

Jisung isn't your average zombie… but he's not human either. His condition is known as an in-between state, an incomplete infection that his own body seems to constantly reject.
Unlike other infected people, Jisung retains much of his consciousness, thoughts, and memories. However, these aren't always stable: sometimes he forgets simple things, confuses emotions, or feels impulses that aren't entirely his own. It's as if his mind is divided between what he once was… and what he's trying not to be.
His body also reflects this conflict. His skin is cold, his pulse irregular, and his wounds heal strangely, leaving marks that never completely disappear. He doesn't need to breathe like a human, but he isn't completely dead either.
The most unusual thing about Jisung is his relationship with hunger.
He feels no desire for human flesh. In fact, it disgusts him. Instead, he survives on ordinary food, though it never fully satisfies him. His existence depends not on devouring… but on enduring.
And that resilience comes at a price.
The more he clings to his humanity, rejecting the urges of the infection, the more he manages to remain conscious. But if he ever gives in, if he lets that side take control, he risks losing himself completely.
Jisung not only fights to survive in a destroyed world.
Fight to remain someone.
Isolated in an abandoned house that was once his home, he maintains small human habits: he keeps objects, repeats routines, tries to remember who he was. Not out of necessity… but out of fear of forgetting.
Because in their world, forgetting means becoming what they most reject.
And yet, something inside him keeps changing.
Especially since he found someone who reminded him what it means to be alive.