In a corner of a Café in an unlikely neighborhood of Seoul, Jin-na and Ji-yeon sat comfortably at their table.
They veiled behind their dark sunglasses, as though they were conspirators in an espionage novel rather than two mothers grappling with their children labyrinthine complications.
Jin-na leaned forward asking with her more conspirator low voice.
‘Do you know anything new?
Nari’s like a vault with me.
She doesn’t share a thing.’ Ji-yeon sighed dramatically, setting her cappuccino down with a faint clink.
‘My son’s just as bad.
But I don’t think anything’s changed.
It’s the same old…
dead calm.’ The words ‘dead calm’ hung in the air like a prophecy, stirring something restless in Jin-na.
She tapped her nails—a sound like raindrops on a rooftop—before declaring with the conviction of a revolutionary, ‘We need to intervene.
Those two need some help.’ ‘Absolutely,’ Ji-yeon agreed, crossing her arms with a mixture of frustration and determination.
‘At this rate, I’ll be a grandmother by the time I hit 70.’ Jin-na laughed, though it carried a hint of exasperation.
‘If only Choi Eu-jin were a bit more assertive.
He’s so on the ball at work, but when it comes to matters of the heart…’ She trailed off, shaking her head.
Ji-yeon stiffened, her expression shifting into mock offense.
‘My son’s doing his best!
The problem lies with Kim Nari; she’s just too shy.
A man needs a sign of interest from the woman, even if he’s the one to make the first move.’ Jin-na raised an eyebrow with defiance.
‘What’s my daughter supposed to do, pounce on him?
It doesn’t work like that.’ A heavy silence fell over the table, the two women locking gazes in mutual annoyance.
Then, as if on cue, their frustrations burst into laughter.
It started as a soft chuckle but soon bubbled into full-blown hilarity, drawing curious glances from nearby patrons.
Their amusement was abruptly cut short by the sound of a voice cutting through the morning hum: ‘Mom!’ Both women froze, their laughter evaporating as they turned toward the source of the call.
A girl stood near the counter, her face strikingly familiar.
The girl approaching them bore an uncanny resemblance to Kim Nari.
For a fleeting moment, they thought it was Kim Nari herself, but t as the girl walked past their table without stopping, they realized their mistake and burst into laughter once more, their earlier tension completely forgotten.
‘I knew this day would come sooner or later,’ Ji-yeon said between giggles, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.
Jin-na smirked, her mind already turning.
‘Shall we devise a plan?’ Ji-yeon nodded, her face lighting up with the mischievous energy of an accomplice.
‘Let’s do it.’ The dance of guided fate had begun—but can it truly be called fate if it is guided?
It was a deliberate choreography, the careful weaving of maternal schemes, crafted with silent cunning and masquerading as destiny, as though it had leapt straight from the pages of an Elizabethan play.… … Meanwhile, far from the whispered conspiracies of Seoul’s cafés, the first light of the morning spilled across the Seoraksan Mountains cautiously, illuminating the jagged peaks and filling with life the valleys below.
The air was crisp and clear, perfumed with the earthy scent of dew-kissed pine.
Sara and Nari emerged from their snug inn, the faint sleep still clinging to their steps, but the grandeur of the landscape quickly brushed it away.
The mountains stood timeless and impervious, as if their peaks wanted to go beyond the clouds.
‘These mountains are absolutely stunning,’ Sara said, her voice tinged with awe as she took in the view.
Nari nodded, adjusting her scarf against the chill.
‘They really are.
And so close to Seoul—I don’t know why I don’t come here more often.
Thank you for suggesting this.’ Sara smiled, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.
‘I do the same in Barcelona.
I only visit the sights when friends come to visit.
But yes, we should escape the city more often.’ The two began their trek, the trail winding through thick forests.
The crunch of their sneakers on gravel was the only sound for a while, until their words began to flow.
‘My friends really enjoyed your company,’ Nari said, glancing sideways at Sara.
‘They say hanging out won’t be the same without you.’ ‘I enjoyed them too,’ Sara replied warmly.
‘They’re all so different and fun in their own ways.’ Nari hesitated for a moment, as though measuring her words.
‘You’ll finally get to meet my brother.’ ‘Do you two look alike?’ Sara asked curious.
‘Not really, at least not physically,’ Nari replied.
‘But in character?
A bit.
We’re both reserved.
He’s also incredibly funny, but in a subtle way.
You’ll see—you’ll like him.’ ‘I’m sure I will,’ Sara said with conviction.
‘If he’s anything like you.’ Her voice softened as she and Nari paused, taking in the breathtaking panorama of the mountains, their peaks crowned with delicate morning mist.
For a moment, they stood in quiet admiration, the crisp air filling their lungs.
Then, with a shared nod, they resumed their trek.
‘You’ve known Eu-jin for a few months now, haven’t you?’ Sara asked, shifting the conversation.
Nari wavered, as though stepping into a fragile space.
‘I met him around the same time I met you,’ she admitted.
Sara glanced at her, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity.
‘You two seem very…
close.
Do you like him?’ ‘I think so,’ Nari said, her voice quieter now, as if afraid the mountains might echo her confession.
‘I’m not certain.
I’m not sure if it’s just friendship for him, so I hesitate to feel anything more.’ Sara stopped and turned to face her with amusement.
‘What do you mean you hesitate to feel?
These things—you either feel them or you don’t.
You can’t choose.’ The question lingered in the air as they resumed their walk.
But after a while, Sara slowed her pace.
‘Let’s slow down a bit,’ Sara suggested, pressing a hand to her side, her breath a little unsteady.
‘Are you alright?’ Nari asked, concern flickering across her face.
Sara waved her off with a small smile.
‘Just a bit tired.
Don’t worry.
Slowing down will do the trick.’ They fell into an easier rhythm, their steps mirroring the unhurried pulse of the mountains.
‘Have you ever had feelings for any of your friends?’ Nari asked, her voice tentative, as though she feared the answer.
Sara shook her head with conviction.
‘No, never.
And it wasn’t really an option for me either.
I studied engineering, a field where women are still a rarity, especially in construction.
I always had to be clear about my boundaries, particularly with the men around me.
My closest friends are three guys, and I’ve never felt anything romantic for any of them.’ ‘You’re very clear about your boundaries,’ Nari said, admiration creeping into her tone.
‘Is that why you’re not seeing the guy from Jeju´s Island after tomorrow?’ ‘Yes,’ Sara replied simply.
‘With him, I couldn’t just be friends.’ At first, Sara had hesitated to give him her name, almost playfully withholding it as a joke.
But now, she was certain of her decision.
Deep in her gut, she knew that with him, it could never be just a matter of friendship.
Intrigued, Nari pressed further.
‘How can you be so sure?
I need to figure things out with…
Eu-jin.’ Sara stopped and gave her a look that seemed to pierce through all pretense.
‘I just know.
It’s a gut feeling.
You know deep down when you want more than friendship—it’s just him.
What do you feel when you’re alone with Eu-jin?’ Nari’s steps faltered, and she looked down at the trail, her voice almost a whisper.
‘It’s like…
time doesn’t exist.
It’s just him and me, and everything else fades into the background.’ Her voice quickened as her thoughts unraveled.
‘But at the same time, the hours go by too fast, and they’re never enough.
I wish there were more.’ Sara stopped and stared at her, astonished.
‘Wow.
And with that statement, are you still undecided?’ Nari’s excitement dimmed, replaced by doubt.
‘I’m afraid he sees me as a friend.
I wouldn’t risk our friendship unless I was 100% sure.’ Sara let out a soft laugh, the kind that carried both understanding and exasperation.
‘He could think the same—especially seeing how reserved you are.
Sometimes, we need a small gesture, something to make him understand.’ ‘I know,’ Nari said, almost inaudibly.
‘But I can’t.’ ‘Then you’ll continue exactly like me,’ Sara teased.
‘You and your three friends.
Oh, and your brother!’ Their laughter echoed through the mountains.
They stood at a bend in the trail, where the world opened up into a panorama of towering cliffs and endless sky.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
The mountains seemed to breathe around them, vast and ancient, holding their secrets.
… The hospital at evening’s end was a world unto itself, an intricate labyrinth of corridors that carried the turmoil of the day into the quiet of the night.
Eu-jin sat in his dimly lit office, the weight of unfinished work pressing against his temples.
His desk was a chaotic constellation of medical papers, books, and journals, each one demanding a fragment of his attention.
He shuffled through the mess with an increasingly furrowed brow until it struck him—something was missing.
The reports.
With a frustrated sigh, he rose from his chair, pushed up the sleeves of his white coat, and headed toward the laboratory.
He navigated the halls with the measured pace of someone accustomed to the peculiar stillness of late hours.
The lab was sterile and quiet, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights that flattened all color into pale hues and sharp contrasts.
The faint hum of machinery filled the air, a rhythmic undertone to the otherwise profound silence.
Eu-jin’s eyes scanned the room until he spotted the reports lying on a metal bench, as though abandoned there by an absentminded hand.
Relief coursed through him as he reached out.
Just as his fingers brushed the papers, a faint sound made him pause.
He turned, his heart quickening slightly, and his gaze landed on a figure hunched over an electronic microscope at the far end of the lab.
The young woman was completely absorbed in her work, the soft glow of the microscope’s light highlighting her features.
‘I thought there was no one left in the laboratory,’ Eu-jin said, his voice cutting through the quiet.
The woman straightened slightly but didn’t seem startled.
She turned to face him, her expression focused.
‘I’m sorry if I scared you,’ she replied.
‘This is the best time to work—it’s when the lab is quietest.’ Her voice carried an understated confidence, and Eu-jin found himself curious.
‘What are you working on?’ ‘Trying to develop a new tyrosine kinase inhibitor targeting the PLB protein,’ she said, turning back to her microscope with a sense of purpose.
Eu-jin’s interest was piqued, and he took some steps closer.
‘How did you come up with that?’ ‘I read a Swedish study where they’re investigating it for liver cancer.
The preliminary data seemed promising, so I thought I’d explore it further.’ ‘That’s intriguing,’ Eu-jin said, his tone earnest, the weight of his long day temporarily forgotten.
‘Let me know when you have the preliminary results.’ ‘I will,’ she said.
For a moment, he lingered, watching the intensity of her focus as she returned to her work.
‘Don’t stay too late working,’ he said at last, his words carrying a note of gentle admonition.
She nodded, her focus unwavering.
With the reports in hand, Eu-jin turned and headed for the door.
As he stepped into the hallway, the sterile lab behind him, a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
There was something admirable about people like Wi Hae-yeon, people who found clarity in the quiet hours and purpose in not being satisfied.
He reminded of himself some few years ago.