AN: Posting this directly after the intro, although this chapter I'm more nervous about. Apologies once again if Jiwoo/Miran seems really out of character!


The scent of coffee filled the living room on the top floor of an apartment complex. The room was immaculately clean and organized, modern furniture adorning the space in light and dark colors. Although the space was spotless, in the kitchen next door, the bar counter top was covered in paperwork. Sitting at the counter atop a bar stool, a young man with messy golden blonde hair was hunched over his laptop, hurriedly typing out a series of emails to important clients. Without his eyes leaving the screen, he reached over to lift his coffee mug, but instead tipped it slightly. A splash of dark liquid landed on the paperwork in front of him, and he quickly jumped up, nearly falling backwards off the stool.

He gave an exasperated sigh and checked to make sure the coffee had not landed on his expensive slacks or button-down shirt. Luckily, it hadn't. He rushed to the shelves in the kitchen, and grabbed a hand towel, quickly cleaning up the coffee on the counter and paperwork.

"Well... those are ruined for sure now," he spoke softly, but in a frustrated voice. Tossing the papers into the trash, he opened up the files on his laptop and began to print them off again.

He sat on the stool once more, taking off his white-framed glasses and rubbing his temple. Sighing again, he closed his eyes tightly for a moment and shut the laptop in front of him. Today was starting to become disappointing, and the day had really only just begun. Rolling up his sleeve, he checked his watch, which showed it was just past 8:00 in the morning. He had to be at work at 9:00, but as he lived fairly close by, he still had plenty of time beforehand.

"Now that I have an excuse, I'll go to the bookstore, then." he decided, picking up his glasses and replacing them on his face.

He stood up once more, walking towards his office to pick up the papers he had printed off. He stuffed them into his briefcase, along with his laptop, and finished off the rest of his coffee, placing the dirty mug into the sink. He reached for the black trilby hat sitting on a rack next to his front door and placed it on his head before walking out and locking the door behind him.

Three years ago, his life had changed so drastically he had almost been sure that he would never establish it again. Coming from such a successful background, and being the son of a wealthy bank owner where he used to live, he had no idea how he could even begin to comprehend starting over. It hadn't been easy, that was certain, but he told himself every single day that it would someday all be worth it.

Not to mention the transition to becoming human had been a struggle all in its own. Sometimes he still found himself reaching up to make sure the spotted rabbit ears that used to adorn his head were not there anymore. Human ears were quite strange as well, he had discovered, making him miss his old ears.

Miran. That was the name he had been given by his father, who had adopted him from an orphanage when he was very young. He grew up assuming he was of the same blood and family of his father, and expected that someday he would take over his successful bank. Years of studying had gone to waste, however, when his father passed away, and his mother unlovingly informed him that he was adopted. He was kicked out at the young age of 18, and left to fend for himself. It still stung to think about it sometimes.

And then his life took a ridiculous turn when he was greeted by a wizard who told him he could grant any wish for him if he participated in a 'game'. Fueled by anger and revenge, his only wish was to see his family's business fail. When he thought about it now, it made him sick. He had definitely matured quite a bit since that point in his life. The 'game', which he assumed would be a simple task that would be over quickly, and he initially didn't intend to win, turned out to be both the most important event in his life, and the saddest.

He could still remember the moments they shared together, and most clearly, her clueless tendencies. He came to her as an animal, and when he left her, he felt he was a changed person who had become more human. He wished every single day that he had tried a bit harder, that he hadn't been so off-putting, that he had made his feelings more obvious. Even thinking about it now, he felt a tinge of sadness. It had been three years, and still he was unable to reach her on a personal level.

It wasn't as though he didn't have the opportunity. She worked at the bookstore he visited constantly. Was it his nerves? Probably. Was it fear of never being able to connect with her again? That was likely. It had been so long, he simply assumed that she had probably moved on with her life. A pretty girl like her most likely had no issues finding a suitable mate. And what if she had never discovered the notebook he left? That was another thought that constantly crossed his mind. The only thing that reassured him was the fact that she had definitely wished him back into this world, and that meant that she truly, deep down, cared about him.

As he began to reach the sidewalk in front of the bookstore, his heart started to beat faster. This happened every single time he approached the building, without fail. He sighed, "Don't act stupid..." he mumbled under his breath, quickly walking inside the building. He headed to the same section as always, the romance novels. Glancing around at the titles in front of him, he tried to find one he didn't own already. With how often he visited and purchased books, he was starting to feel the selection was becoming dull and repetitive.

His eyes began to skim past the books, and around to his surroundings. He was started to feel creepy, as he had come to memorize her schedule every single day. She had to be around here somewhere, she was always working the morning shift. His eyes finally landed on the counter where the cash register was located. There she was, on cashier duty. She was normally on restocking duty, quickly running around the store, making it hard for him to find an excuse to talk to her. But there she was behind the cash register. Her brown hair was pulled back from her face with a pink headband, and she was dressed in a pretty peter-pan collared lilac dress. Heejung.

His heart skipped a beat, and he had to force himself to turn his attention back to the books. He didn't want to look creepy, although he probably already appeared that way since he was in here almost every single day. He skimmed the books again, picking out a random one that he didn't already own. Splintered Roses? It sounded decent, although the title could definitely use improvement. He held it in his hands, nervously preparing himself to walk up to the cash register, "Stop acting like an imbecile. Act normal for once," he whispered to himself again, heading to the front.

She greeted him with a smile. Of course she did. She was always so cheerful when encountering people, "Did you find everything okay?"

He found himself staring into her bright, caramel-colored eyes. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered, "Y-Yes, thank you..." he placed the book on the counter, reaching his shaking hand into his pocket for his wallet.

"That's good to hear!" Heejung rang up the purchase, letting him know the total.

He paid her quickly, his hand lingering over hers and finally dropping to the countertop. His mind raced, trying to find a way to stall the situation, "Um... c-can I ask a question?"

She smiled, "Of course!"

His mouth hanging open, he was sure he looked like an idiot at this moment, when it finally hit him, "Do you have any art books here that you recommend? I work at an art museum, you see..."

While the latter part certainly wasn't a lie, he felt embarrassed. He definitely didn't look like the kind of guy who was interested in art. However, the girl nodded excitedly, "Yes! I definitely have some recommendations! What specifically are you interested in?"

"Well... I'm responsible for finding the next artist to be featured in the museum this season, so I guess a book about some modern, up-and-coming artists would be perfect," he spoke confidently this time, although truthfully, he didn't need help with this at all. He already had a selection of artists picked out to be featured. He then suddenly decided that bragging may be a good angle in this situation, knowing Heejung's feelings on art, "I'm the CEO, so it's quite an important task for me to get done."

Her eyes widened, "Woah..." mouth agape, she was silent for a moment, and then composed herself again, "...That's impressive! Yes, I'll give you a list real quick," she began to jot down some titles of books on a post-it note and handed it to him.

"This is perfect..." he stared at the note and carefully placed it into the breast pocket on his shirt, "I should get to work now," although he said this, he stood still, his eyes searching her face, and sweat forming on his brow, "Th-Thank you, Heejung."

With that, he quickly headed to the front door, leaving the building feeling as though he would pass out. Whether she had noticed him say her name or not, he didn't know. He wasn't even sure if that would creep her out or not, some guy she didn't know calling her by her name. For all he knew, she was probably wearing a name tag, anyway.

He checked his watch; 8:30. No need to rush to work. The walk would only take about fifteen minutes. Suddenly, it hit him. He hadn't picked up the book he bought. Stopping in his tracks, he slammed his palm into his forehead, "Idiot! Stupid!" he exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of some people walking by.

He let out a long and obvious sigh, thinking to himself, I can't go back now. She'll think I'm crazy or something. I guess it's not a huge waste of money, anyway. Instead, he continued to walk to work. He wasn't even that stuck on the novel he had bought to begin with. It would just give him another excuse to return to the store again, anyway. As if he needed a excuse.