After Seohui unnie vanished as if fleeing by the sunset-stained stream, a week passed like a lie.
My arrogant plan—to refuse her just enough while keeping a distance that was just warm enough—shattered miserably that day, along with the sight of her back.
To Gaeul, who asked worriedly, I gave only a hollow answer—“It worked out somehow”—and shoved myself back into the shell of daily life.
I did not look for her, nor did I try to contact her first.
But the deeper this silence grew, the more one clear truth tormented me.
All of this was my fault.
Unnie must have barely managed to confess her true feelings to me, clinging to the faint hope that I would not remember.
And yet I had lied, saying I remembered it all.
The way I was handling it now—standing by without chasing after her—might have been the worst possible response.
If only I had not brought up those words, I might still have been able to stay by her side and offer even clumsy comfort.
Even now, I dared not even guess at the weight of the guilt she must be carrying, the pain that must be eating away at her.
Belated regret surged over me like a tidal wave.
But at the end of that sinking regret, what I had to do finally became clear.
First, I had to find her.
I had to clear up the misunderstanding and free her from the guilt she must be carrying alone.
I wanted to tell her that her feelings had not disgusted me, and that now, all the childish neediness I had poured out to her—she could pour onto me.
It was all right if there was no grand conclusion yet.
Just as I had been saved by her, I only wanted to become a small breathing space for her in return.
Before the thin thread that connected us snapped completely, I intended to walk the path that would bring me closer to her.
***
A week had passed since I fled without being able to look Yeonseo in the face until the end. My time had come to a halt, creaking in place.
[Seat 102 has placed a food order.]
The automated voice from the monitor broke the silence.
“Seohui-ssi! It’s quiet right now, so you make this order.”
At the other part-timer’s words, I stared blankly at the monitor before belatedly moving.
I set water to boil in a pot and tore open a packet of ramyeon with familiar motions, but my gaze kept drifting through empty air.
There was no life in the hand that shook in the powdered soup and dried flakes according to the instructions.
I picked up the tray and headed to seat 102.
“Your ramyeon is ready.”
Just as I set the food down, the customer who had been clicking his mouse frowned and glared at me.
“Excuse me? I clearly wrote that I wanted the flakes left out, so why did you put them in?”
“…Ah, I’m sorry. I made a mistake. Would you like me to make it again right away?”
My voice trembled weakly as I lowered my head.
The customer let out an irritated sigh and picked up his chopsticks.
“Forget it. The game’s already started. When am I supposed to wait again?”
“I’m sorry…”
A sense of helplessness, leaving me able to say nothing but apologies, rose all the way to my toes.
My steps back to the counter felt unbearably heavy.
Lately, my mistakes had grown noticeably more frequent.
All because of the afterimage of that day, a week ago.
‘I remembered everything…’
I had thought Yeonseo had been too drunk to remember.
“I… what happened back then… I remembered everything.”
The moment Yeonseo said those words, I knew instinctively.
I did not have the courage to face the troubled, cold expression of rejection that the kind Yeonseo would make.
The moment the words “I’m sorry” came from those lips, I felt as if I would crumble, and so I chose to run away like a coward.
‘Pathetic. Seriously…’
I leaned against the corner of the counter and buried my face in my hands.
The mask I had worn in order to stay by Yeonseo’s side had shattered to pieces.
Did Yeonseo now find me unpleasant, or did she despise me?
Guilt and regret surged over me like waves, choking off my breath.
Unable to even bring myself to contact Yeonseo, I was slowly withering beneath the cold light of the monitor.
“My goodness, Seohui-ssi. What happened to your complexion?”
The coworker who had returned from serving asked as she looked at me.
I forced myself to rub my pale cheeks and opened my mouth with difficulty.
“Ah… I just haven’t been sleeping much lately. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine at all. I’ll cover the rest of your shift today, so why don’t you just go home and rest?”
Even at that kind consideration, I shook my head.
“No, really, I’m fine. I’ll finish what I was doing.”
If anything, it was better to overwork my body. That made it easier to shake off useless thoughts.
I forced myself to grip the mouse, but my fingertips trembled faintly.
I can no longer stand in front of Yeonseo.
I did not have the confidence to face those eyes I had wanted so badly to see.
In the end, I decided to choose the path that led me farther away from you.
That was the final consideration I could give you, and the only refuge a coward like me could choose.
***
I thought about what I had to do in order to meet Seohui unnie again.
If I recklessly went to the PC room or café where she worked, I was certain it would burden her more than she could bear.
When I recalled that precarious figure of her back as she fled from me, I knew I had to approach her very carefully this time.
‘Should I pretend to run into her by chance, or should I wait somewhere along the route she takes after everything is over?’
The best option was to catch her when she got off work.
But I knew nothing about her exact schedule.
If she was working at the bar today, then her shift would surely end only in the early hours of the morning.
Taking any unforeseen variables into account, I decided to leave home at midnight, with a little time to spare.
I planned to hide and wait without letting her notice, then speak to her somewhere along the path she took after work.
Even if she had the day off from her part-time job and did not appear, it did not matter.
Until she appeared—or until I could at least find some trace of her—I absolutely had to wait.
Because that was the bare minimum sincerity I could show for the wound I had given her, and the only way to pull taut again the thread between us that was about to snap.
This time, I would never just watch from afar, nor would I let go.
***
“Seohui-ssi, good work today.”
As I worked with my mind in chaos, my shift at the PC room ended before I knew it.
Without even a moment to rest, I hurried out of the building and headed to the bar, my workplace for the night.
Today, the manager had asked me to work in uniform as I normally looked, instead of dressing as a man.
And so I stood behind the bar counter in my original appearance.
Was it just my imagination? For some reason, there seemed to be especially many male customers today.
Because my mind was elsewhere, I made small mistakes while mixing cocktails, but they simply smiled and let them pass without complaint.
If anything, most of them cast blatant looks at me as though they found my fumbling cute, and kept trying to talk to me.
“How old are you?”
“Hey, are you new here? What’s your name?”
“Can I get your number? How about one more drink after you get off work?”
The light flirtations continued without end.
Normally, I would have skillfully smiled them off and refused, but today, every single word felt like noise scraping against my eardrums.
Perhaps because both my body and mind were exhausted, even forcing a smile felt difficult.
I continued taking orders, dragging my tired body along as I forced myself to wipe the bar table, again and again.
***
The night air was far colder than I had expected.
I pulled the collar of my thin coat together, but the chill slipped through the gaps.
Afraid that Seohui unnie might pass by some other way, I lingered near the bar without taking my eyes off the street.
I did not have the courage to look inside.
I only hoped that she was in there, and that she would finish work safely.
By the time my lips were trembling and my fingertips had begun to go numb, a shiver rising from my toes made my teeth chatter.
How much time had passed? Breaking the stillness of dawn, a clear jingle rang out.
It was a sound that had fooled me several times already.
Each time, the laughter of customers had passed by, and I had swallowed my disappointment and hidden myself in the darkness again.
But this time, my intuition whispered.
‘This time, it’ll be unnie.’
Holding my breath, I waited for the person to pass the corner where I was standing.
Each second felt as long as a minute.
But even after several seconds passed, I heard no footsteps. Unable to endure my anxiety, I finally stepped around the corner to check for myself.
“Ah…!”
Just as I hurriedly turned, I collided hard with someone coming the other way.
Losing my balance, I fell straight onto the cold paving blocks.
Before the pain of landing on my backside could register, bewilderment rushed over me first.
“Are you all right…?”
The other person, seemingly flustered as well, hurriedly held out a hand to me.
“Huh…?”
Then a short exclamation escaped the other person’s lips.
Under the streetlamp, Seohui unnie, not dressed as a man, was looking down at me with an expression of disbelief.