That afternoon, as usual, Eun-ho began tidying his desk at exactly 5:00 p.m. After making sure he had no unfinished work, he grabbed his work bag and stepped out of the office.
He had followed that routine for years. Leave the office, walk for a few minutes to the bus stop, wait for the bus, then return to the apartment that always welcomed him in silence.
Ten minutes later, the bus he had been waiting for finally arrived.
Eun-ho let out a quiet breath before boarding.
All right. Time to go home and get some rest.
He chose a seat by the window and let his gaze drift outside. The busy afternoon streets, the vehicle lights beginning to flicker on, and the people hurrying home had become such a familiar sight to him.
But that afternoon turned out to be different. Very different.
A meeting he had never imagined was waiting for him.
A meeting that would change his life for the second time.
As Eun-ho enjoyed the ride home, gazing out the window, a scent he knew all too well suddenly brushed against his senses.
It was a simple scent, but it stirred memories he had spent years trying to bury deep inside.
A scent that had once given him comfort and peace.
Eun-ho instinctively turned away from the window and searched every corner of the bus.
Then he saw her.
A woman was sitting several seats behind him.
Her skin was clear and fair. Her round eyes were exactly as he remembered them. Long, wavy black hair fell softly around her beautiful face.
For several seconds, time seemed to stop.
The woman slowly turned toward him. And their eyes met.
Thump…
Eun-ho’s heart began beating faster than it should have.
Years had passed, but he still recognized her at a glance.
Ji-a.
The woman who had once been his home.
The woman who had once filled nearly his entire life.
Eun-ho wanted to call her name. He wanted to make sure what he was seeing wasn’t merely an illusion created by the longing that had never truly disappeared.
But his throat felt constricted.
His lips wouldn’t move.
And for the first time in so long, Eun-ho didn’t know what to say.
This meeting was what he had wanted more than anything. Countless times, he had imagined seeing Ji-a again, running through every possible scenario in his mind and hoping that one day the universe would give them that chance. Startled, Eun-ho reflexively looked away.
He drew a deep breath, trying to calm his suddenly erratic heartbeat.
What was he supposed to do now?
Greet her?
Walk over to Ji-a and pretend nothing had ever happened between them?
Pretend there had never been a separation that left such a deep wound.
Or…
Run away again?
Like he had always done all those years ago.
Like he kept doing every time Ji-a’s shadow appeared in his mind.
Eun-ho closed his eyes for a moment.
He knew that if he chose to leave now, his life would continue as usual.
Tomorrow, he would wake up early, go to work, return to the apartment, and repeat the same routine the next day.
Nothing would change.
But he also knew that tonight, just like the thousands of nights before it, regret would come back to keep him company.
Gnawing at his thoughts little by little.
Reminding him of the one thing he had never managed to forget.
Ji-a.
The woman who had once been the reason he believed happiness existed.
The emptiness that had faithfully kept him company all this time suddenly felt even more suffocating.
For the first time in years, Eun-ho was faced with the same choice.
Leave.
Or fight for something he never should have let go of.
Eun-ho finally rose from his seat. He had made his decision. He was going to greet Ji-a.
Whatever response she gave him, he was ready to accept it. A cold stare, anger, even complete indifference. Anything was better than continuing to live with regret. Eun-ho hurried toward the seat where Ji-a had been sitting a moment earlier.
But his steps came to a halt.
Someone else was sitting in that seat.
Eun-ho froze.
His eyes swept over every corner of the bus in a panic.
Nothing.
Ji-a was nowhere to be seen.
His chest suddenly felt tight. As if a huge hole had opened right in the middle of his heart.
Too late.
Again.
Eun-ho hurried down the bus aisle, hoping to find the figure he had missed so terribly for all these years.
But his hope was in vain.
There was no Ji-a.
No woman with that wavy black hair.
No round eyes that had haunted his every dream.
Eun-ho quickly pressed the stop button.
The bus stopped a moment later.
As soon as the doors opened, he got off and looked around at the street beginning to fill with the glow of dusk.
His eyes moved in every direction.
Searching.
Hoping.
Praying.
But the person he was looking for still didn’t appear.
Eun-ho ran aimlessly along the sidewalk.
“Ji-a! Ji-a! Han Ji-a!”
His voice echoed amid the roar of traffic.
“Ji-a!”
He called out again.
Louder this time.
But all he heard was the sound of engines and the footsteps of passing pedestrians.
There was no answer.
No one turned to look.
There was no Ji-a.
And for the second time in his life, Eun-ho felt that he had lost her.
Eun-ho sobbed.
The tears he had held back all this time finally broke free.
His chest felt so tight that it was hard to breathe.
He didn’t care about the bewildered looks of the people passing by. He didn’t care if they thought it strange for a grown man to stand by the roadside crying as if he had lost everything.
Because that was exactly how he felt.
Loss.
For the second time.
Once his sobs began to subside, Eun-ho roughly wiped his face and walked along the sidewalk toward his apartment, which was only a few dozen meters from the bus stop where he had gotten off.
His steps felt heavy.
As if all the strength and hope that had surfaced that afternoon had disappeared along with Ji-a.
But unbeknownst to Eun-ho…
Behind a row of trees across the street, a pair of eyes continued watching him.
Han Ji-a.
The woman he had been searching for everywhere.
Ji-a’s eyes were swollen and red from the tears she had been unable to hold back.
The moment she realized Eun-ho was on the same bus as her, she got off at the next stop.
Not because she didn’t recognize him.
But because she recognized him too well.
Ji-a had been just as shocked as Eun-ho when their eyes met.
In that single second, years of memories she had tried to forget came crashing back at her without mercy.
Longing.
Happiness.
Anger.
Disappointment.
And the pain she had buried so carefully all this time.
Everything came at once.
Leaving her barely able to breathe.
Ji-a bit down hard on her lip as she watched Eun-ho’s back grow farther away.
A part of her wanted to run after him.
Call his name.
Ask him why he had left without ever giving her an explanation.
But her feet remained rooted to the spot.
Because even today, the wound Eun-ho had left behind still hadn’t truly healed.
After Eun-ho’s back had completely disappeared from view, Ji-a finally forced her feet to move.
Her steps felt heavy.
Throughout the walk to her apartment, her thoughts remained filled with the man she had just seen.
Ji-a smiled bitterly.
So all this time, they had been living so close to each other.
Only a few dozen meters apart.
And yet, for years, fate had never brought them together.
And when they finally met, neither of them had dared approach the other.
Ji-a let out a long sigh.
When she reached her apartment, she went straight to her room. With slightly trembling hands, she opened her closet and retrieved a pale blue box tucked away in the very back corner.
The box already looked worn.
But she had never found the courage to throw it away.
Ji-a sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the box for a while.
As if gathering the courage to reopen the wound she had spent all this time trying to heal.
Slowly, she lifted the lid.
The scent of old paper greeted her at once.
Inside were so many memories.
Photographs.
Movie tickets.
Little letters.
And various things that should no longer have meant anything.
Yet they still meant so much to her.
Ji-a picked up the photograph on top.
A bitter smile curved across her lips once more.
It was a picture of them back when they were still in high school.
In the photo, Eun-ho had an arm around her shoulder, his face full of pride, as if he were showing off the most precious thing in the world.
Ji-a, meanwhile, was smiling brightly at the camera.
A smile so sincere.
A smile that now felt unfamiliar even to her.
Ji-a slowly brushed her fingertip over Eun-ho’s face in the photograph.
And before she could stop it, the memory carried her back to the first day they met.
Haneul High School, Eight Years Earlier
Ji-a was panting as she ran along the sidewalk toward her school.
As usual.
She had overslept again.
And, as usual, she had to run from the bus stop to school to avoid the gate that was about to close.
In the distance, Ji-a saw the Haneul High School gate beginning to slide shut, pushed by a security guard.
“Oh my God!”
She quickened her pace.
Her backpack swung from side to side as she ran with all her strength.
Almost there.
Almost there.
But just as she was about to reach the school gate—
Crash!
Ji-a ran into someone.
She immediately lost her balance and fell onto the asphalt, landing on her bottom.
“Ow!”
Her backside began to ache at once.
Ji-a looked up irritably.
A tall male student stood several steps in front of her.
His black hair looked slightly disheveled from running.
The boy glanced back.
Their eyes met for several seconds.
“Sorry.”
That was all he said.
Afterward, he went right back to running toward the school gate as if nothing had happened.
“Huh?!”
Ji-a’s mouth fell open in disbelief.
“Just sorry?”
But before she could vent her frustration any further, she realized something far more terrifying.
The school gate.
“Oh my God!”
Ji-a scrambled to her feet and started running again.
Unfortunately…
Too late.
The iron gate had closed tight right in front of her face.
From behind the gate, Mr. Kim looked at her with his arms crossed.
A mischievous smile was already spread across the middle-aged man’s face.
“Late again, Han Ji-a?”
Ji-a gave him an awkward grin.
“Just a little, sir.”
“A little?”
Mr. Kim raised one eyebrow.
“This is the third time this week.”
Ji-a laughed sheepishly.
“Then I guess I’m consistent, sir.”
“Han Ji-a!”
“Hehe…”
“Can’t you wake up earlier and stop running from the bus stop to school every morning?”
Ji-a scratched the back of her head.
“I’m trying, sir.”
“You’ve been saying the same thing for three years.”
After writing down the reason for her tardiness on her conduct card, Ji-a ran back toward her classroom.
Her first class that morning was Mr. Park’s.
He was a math teacher famous for never showing any leniency toward students who arrived late.
“If this keeps up, I might as well try out for the school track team,” Ji-a muttered as she continued running down the hallway.
When she reached the classroom, Ji-a peeked through the window.
She let out a relieved breath.
The teacher’s chair was still empty.
Mr. Park hadn’t arrived yet.
“Yes!”
Ji-a clenched her small fist in victory.
She quickly opened the door and darted toward her desk.
The moment she sat down, a gentle tap landed on her shoulder.
“You’re late again, Han Ji-a.”
Ji-a turned around.
Hye-ri was looking at her with the deeply familiar expression of resignation.
“I’m not late yet,” Ji-a argued with a bright smile.
“Mr. Park isn’t here.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not late.”
“Minor detail.”
Hye-ri shook her head.
“What do you even do every night that makes you oversleep all the time?”
Ji-a looked at her best friend with a serious expression.
“Want to know the reason?”
“Of course.”
“Bring your ear closer.”
Hye-ri obeyed.
She leaned her ear toward Ji-a.
Ji-a leaned in too and whispered softly.
“It’s a secret.”
Silence fell for one second.
“Seriously?!”
Hye-ri immediately pinched Ji-a’s cheek.
“Ow! Ow!”
“You fooled me again!”
Ji-a laughed loudly as she tried to pull free from her best friend’s pinch.
“You still fall for it.”
“Han Ji-a!”
“Hahahaha!”
Hye-ri finally let go and released a long sigh.
“Honestly, I don’t understand how someone like you manages to survive.”
“Because I’m pretty.”
“That has nothing to do with it.”
“Because I’m smart?”
“Not that either.”
“Then because I’m lucky.”
“Now that makes sense.”
Ji-a giggled in satisfaction.
But before she could respond, the classroom door opened.
All the students reflexively turned toward the front.
Mr. Park entered carrying a stack of books in both hands.
The room, which had been noisy moments before, immediately fell silent.
But Ji-a’s attention was drawn instead to someone standing behind the teacher.
A male student.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Wearing a neat uniform, with an unfamiliar face.
For a moment, Ji-a felt as if she had seen him somewhere before.
And when the boy lifted his head…
Ji-a’s eyes widened.
Wasn’t he that obnoxious kid who had made her fall earlier that morning?