Jan Di and Ji Hoo looked away, their backs turned to each other, the silence stretching between them like an invisible thread neither dared to tug at. The air in their small mobile home was thick with an unspoken tension, the remnants of a dream lingering on their skin like a ghostly touch. Ji Hoo cleared his throat, his voice coming out lower than usual, rough with something he couldn't name.
"Why did you wake up?" he asked, keeping his tone casual even though his heart still beat a little too fast.
Jan Di hesitated, gripping the edge of the blanket tightly. She had woken up because of the dream—that dream. The kind of dream that left an imprint, a whisper of warmth, a sensation that felt far too real. But how could she say it? How could she tell him that her heart had raced, that she had felt his touch in a way she had never before, that for the first time, she had been stripped of all defenses?
"I had a dream," she finally admitted, her voice quieter than before, but she wasn't ready to say anything beyond that. She didn't even know if he had the same dream. She swallowed hard before adding, "And you? Why is the king of sleeping cats awake?"
Ji Hoo let out a small chuckle, but it lacked the usual lightness. "I had a dream too," he answered truthfully. But how could he tell her? That in the dream, she had whispered the word husband against his lips? That he had felt every inch of her, as if they were bound by something far beyond this reality? That he had kissed her like she belonged to him?
He turned slightly, just enough to see her outline in the dim light. "Sunbae…" Her voice was hesitant, almost careful, as if she were afraid of what she was about to ask. "What was it about?"
She wanted to know. She needed to know. Her fingers clutched the blanket tighter.
Ji Hoo studied the back of her head, the way her shoulders had tensed. He could feel it—the way she was waiting for his answer. His lips parted slightly, tempted, so tempted to tell her the truth.
But if he did… what then?
"If I asked you to tell me about your dream, would you tell me?" he countered instead, his voice dipping lower.
Jan Di froze.
The answer was no.
She couldn't.
She couldn't tell him that in her dream, she had felt him—all of him. That his warmth had surrounded her, that his touch had burned her skin in a way she never imagined possible. That she had clung to him, breathless, lost, willing.
Her mind scrambled for an excuse, and she blurted out the first thing that came to her lips.
"I was being chased in the dream."
It was a lie. A poor one.
"Then my stomach started hurting," she added quickly, hoping the half-truth would make it sound more believable.
Ji Hoo was silent for a beat too long.
"Really?" His voice was unreadable, but she heard it. The disappointment. The disbelief.
Her fingers twisted in the fabric beneath her.
He exhaled softly, and then, "Me… I was bitten by a dog."
Jan Di's eyes widened slightly.
He was lying.
She knew it instantly.
Ji Hoo never lied.
And yet, here he was, spinning an absurd tale that didn't match his voice, didn't match the weight behind his words. Her lips parted slightly, wanting to ask—was it the same dream? Did he feel it too? Did he—
But the moment passed. Ji Hoo shifted, turning his back to her.
"Anyway… we have to get up early for the camp," he said, his tone now distant, as if he had already locked whatever truth he was holding deep inside him. "We should go back to sleep. Goodnight."
Jan Di didn't reply.
She stared at the ceiling, her heartbeat still unsteady, her mind replaying the images from the dream, the phantom touch still burning on her skin.
Behind her, Ji Hoo did the same.
Neither of them slept.
The sky outside was still a deep shade of blue, with the first hints of dawn peeking over the horizon. Neither Ji Hoo nor Jan Di had been able to fall back asleep, their thoughts still tangled in the remnants of the dream they had both refused to acknowledge.
Ji Hoo exhaled softly and sat up, running a hand through his already tousled hair. The silence between them was thick, but neither of them dared to break it with anything too revealing.
Jan Di followed suit, pushing the blanket off her legs and swinging them over the edge of the bed. Her fingers twisted slightly in the hem of her pajama shirt as she spoke. "I'm going to prepare some breakfast for Harabeoji and our snacks for the trip," she said, keeping her voice neutral, her eyes fixed on the small kitchen space instead of him.
Ji Hoo studied her for a second longer than necessary before nodding. "I'll go pack what we bought yesterday." His voice was calm, as if the tension from the night had never happened. As if he hadn't been awake all night, listening to the sound of her breathing, wondering if she had truly forgotten the dream or if she was simply pretending.
Slipping out of bed, they both set to their tasks.
Jan Di focused on making breakfast, trying to find comfort in the rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzle of dough frying on the pan. She made flatbread, golden and crisp, carefully setting them aside to keep warm. Then she moved on to blending fresh juice, the whir of the blender filling the otherwise quiet mobile home. She liked keeping busy—her hands, at least. If her mind stayed still for too long, it would wander back to places she wasn't ready to revisit.
Meanwhile, Ji Hoo packed their things for the trip, his movements efficient but slightly absentminded. He folded their extra clothes neatly, made sure they had enough bottled water, and secured the first-aid kit—just in case.
For a while, everything felt normal. Peaceful, even.
Until voices broke through the early morning stillness.
"Jan Di-ah!" A familiar, cheerful voice called from outside.
Both Ji Hoo and Jan Di turned their heads toward the sound at the same time.
"What are they doing here so early?" Jan Di murmured, dusting flour off her hands as she turned toward the door.
Ji Hoo, already near the entrance, opened the door to reveal Yi Jung and Ga Eul standing outside, bundled up against the cool morning air.
"So early?" Ji Hoo asked, his brows raising slightly in amusement.
"The route to the mountains is long," Yi Jung replied smoothly, stepping inside. "I thought we could set off by seven."
"Jan Di-ah, what are you preparing?" Ga Eul asked as she made her way over to the small kitchen area, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the warm food.
"Oh… just snacks for us and breakfast for Harabeoji," Jan Di said, turning back to her cooking.
Ga Eul nodded, rolling up her sleeves. "I'll help."
Jan Di smiled softly. It was nice having Ga Eul around—her presence always made things easier. At least with her best friend there, Jan Di wouldn't have to think too hard about what had happened—or what hadn't happened—the night before.
Ji Hoo, on the other hand, simply leaned against the doorframe, his eyes flickering to Jan Di now and then, watching the way she moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. He had always liked this about her—how she poured warmth into everything she did, whether she realized it or not.
For now, the strange tension between them was momentarily pushed aside, hidden beneath the morning's preparations.
But it was still there.
Unspoken.
Lingering.
Everything was finally ready. The sun had begun its slow ascent, casting a golden hue over the quiet road as the group prepared to leave. Yi Jung secured their bags in the trunk while Ga Eul adjusted her scarf, excitement shimmering in her eyes. The van's door slid open, revealing the spacious interior, but as Jan Di stood before it, she hesitated.
Her fingers clutched the strap of her backpack, knuckles turning white. A deep breath filled her lungs, and she closed her eyes for a moment, fighting back the unwelcome memory of that fateful drive—Jun Pyo's reckless speed, the sudden swerve, the fear gripping her chest as the car nearly spiraled out of control. It had been a month, but the memory hadn't faded. No, it lingered like a ghost, appearing at the worst moments.
"Jan Di-ah… what's wrong?" Ga Eul's voice was gentle, her concern evident as she reached for her best friend's hand. "Hop in." She patted the seat beside her, encouraging Jan Di to climb in, but Jan Di's feet remained rooted to the ground.
Ji Hoo, who had been observing her quietly, immediately caught on. He didn't need to ask—he already knew. Since the incident, Jan Di had been wary of cars, only ever getting in when he was beside her, his presence acting as her anchor. He wouldn't let her struggle with this alone.
He moved without hesitation. "Well, Ga Eul…" Ji Hoo's calm voice carried over the quiet tension. "Sit up front with Yi Jung. I'll sit with Jan Di-ah."
Ga Eul blinked in surprise but nodded, trusting Ji Hoo's judgment. She exchanged a glance with Yi Jung before stepping toward the front passenger seat, leaving the space open beside Jan Di.
Ji Hoo turned to her, his gaze warm yet unwavering. He extended his hand in silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he would be right there with her.
Jan Di swallowed hard, her eyes flickering between his steady presence and the open door. A part of her wanted to say she was fine—that she could handle it—but the tremor in her fingers betrayed her.
She didn't speak. Instead, she took his offered hand, allowing him to guide her inside. The warmth of his palm against hers grounded her, steadying her nerves. He slid in beside her, positioning himself so that he was the barrier between her and the window, shielding her from the outside world just as he always did.
Once seated, Ji Hoo gently squeezed her hand before letting go. "You're okay," he murmured softly, his voice so low only she could hear.
Jan Di exhaled slowly, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, taking in his composed demeanor, the way he exuded quiet strength. With Ji Hoo next to her, the tightness in her chest loosened just a little.
The engine roared to life, and the van began to move, but Jan Di's grip on the fabric of her dress lessened. She still felt the lingering ghosts of fear in the back of her mind, but with Ji Hoo beside her, it no longer felt insurmountable.
As Yi Jung took the wheel, guiding the van down the quiet mountain road, Ji Hoo reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the familiar weight of his phone. He unlocked the screen with ease, scrolling through his playlist until he found the song—the one they had once created together, in a moment of shared harmony.
Without a word, he gently placed one side of the earphones into Jan Di's ear, then placed the other in his own. The soft click of the play button was the only sound before the slow, haunting melody drifted between them.
The opening notes were delicate, the faint strum of strings intertwining with the wistful cry of the flute, filling the van with a bittersweet melancholy. The first few moments passed in silence, the music carrying them to a place only the two of them understood.
Then, her voice came first, light and pure, laced with emotion.
Jan Di: "Jīn xī hé xī, qīng cǎo lí lí..."
(What night is this? The grass grows wild…)
Ji Hoo closed his eyes for a brief second, listening. Her voice was just as he remembered—soft yet strong, holding a quiet sorrow within it. When he opened them again, his gaze fell on her, and something inside him stirred.
He joined in, his voice a deep contrast to hers, smoothing over the melody like a protective embrace.
Ji Hoo: "Míng yuè yè sòng jūn qiān lǐ..."
(Under the bright moon, I send you a thousand miles away…)
Jan Di's fingers clenched subtly over her lap as she let the music consume her, drawing her back to the moment they first wrote this song. It had been a quiet evening, their jade flutes resting beside them, hands moving across instruments as they composed their thoughts into lyrics.
Back then, she hadn't thought much about what it meant—the weight of distance, the ache of fleeting connections. But now, as they sang together in the dimly lit van, every word pressed against her heart a little differently.
The melody swelled, the chorus approaching. Ji Hoo's fingers tapped against his knee in rhythm, almost as if he were playing his guitar. His head turned slightly, his gaze seeking hers.
And then, together, their voices intertwined.
Jan Di & Ji Hoo:
"Shān hé wú yín, rén hǎi yǒu shí..."
(The mountains are boundless, yet the sea of people is fleeting…)
The notes stretched between them, lingering in the small space they shared. Ji Hoo's expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those deep, knowing eyes—held something she couldn't quite name.
Their voices carried the song forward, but Jan Di could feel her heart pounding. She couldn't look at him for too long. She couldn't allow herself to get lost in that gaze. Yet, the pull was undeniable.
Her voice softened, yet the emotion in it deepened as she sang the next line alone.
Jan Di: "Qíng shēn yuán qiǎn nán xiāng yī..."
(Deep love, yet shallow fate, hard to rely upon…)
The words caught in her throat. There was something too real about them, too close to what she had never dared to say aloud. Deep love… shallow fate. It mirrored everything she felt but couldn't express.
Ji Hoo's lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he only let out a quiet breath, his gaze locked onto her.
The song continued, but in that moment, as their voices blended into one, they weren't just singing a melody.
They were speaking in a language only their hearts understood.
Ji Hoo adjusted the earphones slightly, ensuring they were still secure before glancing at Jan Di. The quiet hum of the van's engine filled the space between them, but he could still hear her shallow breathing, the way she held herself rigidly despite her earlier attempt to relax. He watched as her fingers curled and uncurled over the fabric of her jeans, a habit he had come to recognize whenever she was lost in thought.
"Do you still feel uncomfortable?" Ji Hoo asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, careful not to startle her.
Jan Di exhaled slowly, as if testing the weight of her emotions. The music had settled into a soft instrumental bridge, the gentle plucking of strings weaving through the van like a lullaby.
"No," she replied after a pause. "I'm fine now."
Ji Hoo nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a second longer before turning back toward the window. The scenery outside passed in a blur, but his thoughts remained fixed on her. He knew she was strong, but there were cracks in her armor, ones she tried desperately to hide. He had seen them before, felt them in the tremble of her fingers when she gripped onto him in moments of vulnerability.
"Go to sleep," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet gentleness. "We still have an hour to the mountains."
Jan Di hesitated before closing her eyes. She wasn't sure if she would be able to sleep, but the warmth beside her—Ji Hoo's steady presence—felt strangely reassuring.
Meanwhile, up front, Yi Jung's hands remained steady on the wheel, but his gaze flickered to the rearview mirror, catching sight of the pair sitting in the back. His brow furrowed slightly as he observed them—Jan Di leaning just a little closer to Ji Hoo than necessary, her body unconsciously angling toward him.
What is wrong with Jan Di? Yi Jung thought, his fingers tightening slightly around the steering wheel. She seems different… Has she started loving Ji Hoo?
Beside him, Ga Eul also noticed the shift in Jan Di's demeanor. She had known her best friend for years, had seen her struggle, fight, and push through heartbreak. But now, watching the way Jan Di unconsciously let Ji Hoo in—trusting him with the pieces of herself she usually hid—Ga Eul couldn't help but wonder.
Perhaps, without even realizing it, Jan Di's heart had already started to change.
The memory of the older woman from the Chinese market replayed in Ga Eul's mind, her words laced with certainty as she handed Ji Hoo and Jan Di the gifts. You two are bound by fate. A love written in the stars. Ga Eul had smiled politely at the time, but inwardly, she had felt a jolt of realization—one that Jan Di, in her stubbornness, refused to acknowledge.
She sighed, stealing a glance at her best friend, who was now resting her head lightly against the van's window. The way Jan Di always dismissed things, brushing off her own feelings like they were insignificant, was frustrating to watch.
Ga Eul knew the truth.
Jan Di might say she loved Jun Pyo, but she wasn't in love with him. She had been caught up in the whirlwind of emotions he had brought into her life—the grand gestures, the possessive devotion, the chaos. But love? Real, deep, unshakable love? No. That kind of love didn't come from force or persistence. That kind of love wasn't about holding on despite the pain—it was about finding a place where you felt safe, where you belonged.
My foolish best friend, Ga Eul thought, shaking her head. How can she sleep next to Ji Hoo sunbae every night and not feel attached to him?
True, Jun Pyo had hurt her—more times than Ga Eul could count. And though some of his actions were to protect Jan Di from his mother, it didn't change the fact that he had chosen to hurt her. He had left scars, deep ones, ones that still made Jan Di hesitate before stepping into a car, ones that made her flinch at certain memories she never spoke about.
But Ji Hoo… Ji Hoo was different.
He wasn't the type to push or demand. He wasn't the type to force his way into Jan Di's life like Jun Pyo had. Instead, Ji Hoo had been her quiet refuge, always standing a step behind her, always watching over her even when she didn't realize it. He would rather bear pain himself than see her hurt, and that was the kind of love that ran deep.
Ga Eul recalled something else—something that had been buried in her memory until now.
A few months ago, Ji Hoo's grandfather had stood before Madam Kang, unshaken by her intimidating presence, and declared: Jan Di is the girl I have chosen for Ji Hoo.
Ga Eul hadn't thought much of it at the time. She had assumed it was just his way of supporting Jan Di, a way of protecting her from the harsh realities of the upper class. But now, looking at how naturally Ji Hoo and Jan Di fit together, she realized it was more than that.
This wasn't about protection.
This wasn't about defiance.
This was fate.
All the signs were there—the invisible thread pulling them together, the way Ji Hoo knew Jan Di better than anyone else, the way his grandfather had already seen what Jan Di refused to acknowledge.
They were soulmates.
But Jan Di, in all her stubbornness, was still clinging to Jun Pyo, convinced that she had to love him simply because he had been there first.
Ga Eul let out a quiet sigh.
Come to think of it… she was never in love with him, she realized. Jun Pyo just forced his way into her life, and she got obsessed with the idea of loving him.
It wasn't love. It was habit.
And someday, Jan Di would wake up and realize that the man who had been standing by her side all along—the one who had never once abandoned her, never once made her feel like she wasn't enough—was Ji Hoo.
Ga Eul's gaze softened as she watched Ji Hoo's gentle movements. Without hesitation, he shifted slightly, adjusting his posture so that Jan Di's head wouldn't press against the hard surface of the van. With careful precision, he lifted her head just enough to ease it against his chest, his fingers brushing through her hair in a soothing motion. Even in sleep, his actions were filled with an unspoken tenderness, a silent devotion that spoke louder than any words ever could.
Ga Eul exhaled slowly. How could Jan Di not see it?
Her eyes flickered toward Yi Jung, who sat at the wheel, his hands steady, his expression unreadable.
My own stubborn soulmate, she mused.
If there was anyone who had been more difficult to deal with than Jan Di, it was him. Yi Jung had built walls so high and thick around his heart that breaking through them had felt impossible. Time and time again, Ga Eul had tried to show him—through her presence, through her unwavering patience—that she wasn't going anywhere. That she saw him, not just the smooth-talking, flirtatious potter that the world believed him to be, but the broken boy who had spent years burying his pain beneath a polished mask.
She had given him signs—so many signs. And Yi Jung had felt it too. She knew he had.
But he had denied it. Every single time, he had pushed her away, telling himself that love—real love—wasn't something he was meant for. That someone like him, who had spent years running from his own emotions, could never deserve someone like her.
And yet… yesterday had changed everything.
A promise.
A ring.
A kiss that spoke of everything he had refused to say before.
Ga Eul's fingers grazed the small, delicate ring on her finger, the cool metal grounding her. So you finally stopped running, she thought with a small, knowing smile.
And now, instead of drowning in the distractions of his old life—the endless cycle of parties, women, and empty laughter—Yi Jung had made a decision. He was taking her away, away from the noise, away from the expectations, just the two of them before he left for Sweden.
Not to escape this time.
Not to run.
But to become a better man.
Her heart ached at the thought of the time they would spend apart, but she understood. Yi Jung wanted to be a man worthy of love, a man who could stand beside her without fear. And she would wait—because, for the first time, he wasn't walking away from her.
He was walking toward her.
Ga Eul turned her gaze back to Ji Hoo and Jan Di, still nestled against each other. A sigh escaped her lips.
Stubborn soulmate or not, Jan Di… one day, you're going to have to wake up and see what's right in front of you.
Ji Hoo's gaze lingered on the sleeping figure resting against his chest, her soft, steady breaths brushing against the fabric of his shirt. He barely moved, afraid to disturb the peace that had settled over her. His fingers absently traced through the strands of her longer hair, feeling the silkiness between his fingertips, a habit he had developed whenever she fell asleep near him.
His mind drifted back to the dream.
Husband.
She had called him that.
The word echoed in his mind, as if branded into his soul.
In that dream, she hadn't hesitated. Her voice had been soft, tentative, but filled with something deeper—an emotion so raw that he had felt it seep into his bones. She had said it again, and again, as if savoring the way it felt on her tongue. As if it belonged there. And in that fleeting world of illusion, he had embraced it, reveling in the warmth of her touch, in the way she had fit so perfectly against him.
But now, in the quiet hum of the van, reality pressed against his chest like an unbearable weight.
Did she remember?
Or had it been his dream alone?
Ji Hoo exhaled softly, his fingers continuing their slow, careful strokes through her hair. His heart ached with a longing he wasn't sure he had the right to feel.
Was fate playing tricks on him?
He had always known his love for Jan Di was different. It wasn't desperate, all-consuming, or reckless like Jun Pyo's. It wasn't possessive or demanding. His love had always been patient, steady, the kind that waited even when there was no promise of being chosen.
And yet…
That dream had been different.
It had shown him a world where she had chosen him. Where she had called him hers. Where there had been no barriers, no lingering shadows of another man's love, no hesitation in her voice.
A world where he wasn't just standing by her side, but holding her, claiming her.
Ji Hoo clenched his jaw. Was it so wrong to want that world to be real?
His gaze dropped to her face, peaceful in sleep, her lashes fluttering slightly as if she were caught between reality and dreams. He knew the truth—Jan Di's heart was still tangled with Jun Pyo's, still caught in the aftermath of the love she thought she wanted.
But what if… what if that dream had been more than just a fantasy?
What if it was a glimpse of something yet to come?
Ji Hoo tightened his arm slightly, just enough to hold her closer, to let himself pretend—just for a moment—that she was his.
Even if only in dreams.
Jan Di… I will keep hanging on to that dream.
Ji Hoo sighed, his lips pressing into a thin line as he gazed at her sleeping face. He knew it was foolish—this quiet longing, this silent hope that refused to die no matter how much he tried to suppress it. But he couldn't help it. That dream had felt too real, too right.
His fingers continued their slow caress through her hair, memorizing every silky strand, as if trying to etch this moment into his soul. If only time could freeze, if only this moment could stretch forever, with her in his arms, peaceful, safe—his.
But she wasn't his.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from clinging to that dream. The way she had looked at him, the way her voice had trembled with emotion when she had called him husband. The way their bodies had fit together like they were always meant to be.
Ji Hoo exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.
If fate had given him even the smallest glimpse of a future where she could love him, where she could choose him, then he would hold onto it.
Even if it was just a dream.
Even if he had to wait a little longer.
The van rolled to a stop at the foot of the mountain, the engine humming softly before Yi Jung turned the key, silencing it completely. The crisp morning air filtered in through the open windows, carrying with it the earthy scent of damp soil and the distant fragrance of pine. A faint mist still clung to the mountain peaks, slowly dissipating under the rising sun.
Jan Di stirred, blinking away the last traces of sleep as she stretched her arms. Ji Hoo, who had been watching her silently, shifted slightly, his warm hand resting briefly on her back as she gathered herself.
"We're here," he murmured softly.
She nodded, exhaling deeply as if shaking off a lingering thought, before reaching for the door handle. Ji Hoo followed closely behind her, stepping out of the van just as Ga Eul stretched her arms over her head.
"Finally!" Ga Eul said with enthusiasm, turning to the others. "Let's grab our bags before Yi Jung drives off and leaves us stranded."
Yi Jung smirked as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said, though there was a playful glint in his eye.
Ji Hoo and Jan Di exchanged a knowing look before moving toward the back of the van, where their bags were packed. Unlike Ga Eul and Yi Jung, they were already familiar with this place. The last time they had come here, just the two of them, they had explored the mountain and even built a small bamboo hut as a resting place.
"Let's get moving," Ji Hoo said as he slung his bag over his shoulder, adjusting the straps.
Jan Di grabbed hers as well, securing it tightly on her back. The trail ahead wasn't difficult, but with all the supplies they had to carry, the usual ten-minute walk to their camping site would take at least thirty. The terrain, though familiar, was slightly damp from last night's rain, making each step more cautious.
Ji Hoo instinctively walked beside Jan Di, his eyes flickering toward her every so often, watching for any signs of unease. He knew she wasn't particularly afraid of hiking, but she had always been a bit clumsy on rough terrain.
"Careful where you step," he said as they maneuvered over a narrow path.
Jan Di shot him a look but smiled slightly. "I know, Sunbae. I've walked this before, remember?"
Ji Hoo hummed in response but still kept close, ready to steady her if needed.
Ga Eul, who was walking just behind them with Yi Jung, took a moment to admire the scenery. "It's so peaceful here," she mused. "No city noise, just the sound of nature."
"That's the best part," Yi Jung agreed. "It's a nice escape from everything."
Their footsteps crunched against the gravel path, birds chirped somewhere in the distance, and the cool mountain breeze whispered through the trees. It was the kind of quiet that made everything feel lighter—calmer.
After a long, steady hike, they finally arrived at their camping spot—a small clearing surrounded by towering bamboo trees. At the center stood the hut Ji Hoo and Jan Di had built two days ago, still sturdy and untouched by time.
"We made it," Jan Di breathed, dropping her bag onto the ground. She looked up at the hut and smiled fondly. "Still standing."
Ji Hoo stepped beside her, gazing at their handiwork. "Of course. We built it well."
Ga Eul and Yi Jung exchanged glances before looking at the hut. "You two really built this?" Ga Eul asked in awe.
Jan Di nodded. "We had to find shelter last time we were here, so we built this together."
Yi Jung chuckled. "Looks like we have a place to rest before setting up camp, then."
"Let's rest for a bit before unpacking," Ji Hoo suggested, already sensing Jan Di's fatigue from the hike.
Jan Di sighed, grateful for the break, as she walked up the small steps of the hut and leaned against the bamboo railing. The mountain air felt refreshing against her skin, and for a moment, she simply took it all in—the quiet, the stillness, and the subtle comfort of knowing Ji Hoo was right beside her.
Ji Hoo sat beside her, adjusting the straps of his bag. "Drink some water," he told her, handing her a bottle from his pack.
She took it without argument, sipping slowly.
As the others busied themselves with setting up the rest of the camp, Ji Hoo's gaze lingered on Jan Di. Two days ago, they had built this hut together—side by side, working in sync. And now, here they were again.
He lowered his gaze, fingers brushing absentmindedly against the wooden floor. Jan Di... I will keep hanging on to that dream.
Meanwhile, in America…
Jun Pyo gritted his teeth, pressing the redial button on his phone for the tenth time. His grip tightened around the glass of whiskey in his other hand, the ice clinking against the sides as he tipped it back, swallowing the burning liquid in one gulp. His entire body felt hot, but it wasn't from the alcohol. It was from what Woo Bin had just casually mentioned over the phone.
"She's gone to the mountains for camping."
That one sentence had been enough to send him into a spiral of rage.
He hadn't even let Woo Bin finish explaining. He didn't care about the details. The only thing that mattered was that Jan Di had gone on a trip, and she hadn't told him. Even worse—she had gone with Ji Hoo.
"How dare she go without asking my permission?"
The possessiveness in his chest coiled tighter, the jealousy burning through him like a wildfire. He wasn't a fool. He knew Ji Hoo had feelings for Jan Di—had always had feelings for her. And now they were out there, together, in the middle of nowhere?
His jaw clenched as he hit redial once again. The phone rang twice before going straight to voicemail.
"You have reached little otter's phone. I can't reach you, but please leave a message."
The voice that followed wasn't Jan Di's.
It was Ji Hoo's.
Jun Pyo's blood ran cold before it boiled all over again.
His fingers tightened so hard around the phone that for a second, he thought he might crush it.
"She even used Yoon Ji Hoo's voice on her phone?"
He growled low in his throat, slamming the glass onto the table with enough force to make the amber liquid slosh over the edge. His heart pounded against his ribs, his breathing uneven as his mind raced.
When had things gotten to this point? When had she started keeping things from him? Had Ji Hoo replaced him in ways he hadn't even realized?
His pride screamed at him to stop, to let her call him first. But his jealousy had already won.
He scrolled through his contacts and pressed Woo Bin's number again.
The phone rang twice before his friend picked up.
"Now what?" Woo Bin sighed, already anticipating the storm brewing on the other end.
"Where exactly is she?" Jun Pyo demanded, his voice sharp and laced with frustration.
Woo Bin hesitated. "Jun Pyo—"
"I swear, if you don't tell me, I'm getting on the next flight back to Korea and finding out myself."
There was silence.
Then Woo Bin sighed. "I already told you. She went with Ji Hoo, Yi Jung, and Ga Eul. It's a group trip, not some romantic getaway."
Jun Pyo didn't respond right away. His heart was still pounding.
So it wasn't just the two of them… That should have reassured him, but it didn't.
"Why didn't she tell me?" he muttered, more to himself than Woo Bin.
"Maybe because she doesn't need your permission?" Woo Bin countered. "Look, man, she's out there having fun. Stop overthinking."
Jun Pyo didn't answer. Instead, he downed the rest of his drink and threw his phone onto the couch beside him.
He needed to clear his head.
Or maybe… he needed to get on the next flight back to Korea.
Back in the Mountains…
After finishing the flatbread Jan Di had cooked and drinking the fresh juice she had blended, the four of them finally had enough energy to start unpacking. The sun hung high, casting a warm golden glow over the lush greenery surrounding them.
While Ga Eul and Jan Di headed into the nearby woods to collect firewood, Ji Hoo and Yi Jung got to work setting up their temporary home. The bags were filled with everything they needed—two large tents, air mattresses, stools, cups, and even a portable stove. It was like bringing the comforts of home into the wilderness.
Ji Hoo carefully unzipped one of the tent bags, pulling out the fabric and laying it flat on the ground. Yi Jung did the same, but after struggling for a few minutes, he let out a frustrated sigh.
"Man, thank you," Yi Jung said as he finally got the tent to inflate properly.
Ji Hoo glanced at him. "For what?"
"For agreeing to this trip," Yi Jung admitted, brushing his hands off on his jeans. "I know this is a tough position for you, but if Jan Di hadn't come, Ga Eul wouldn't have either. And if she didn't come, then I'd have no excuse to take her on this trip with me."
Ji Hoo gave him a knowing look. "Are you two going to share the tent? The bed?" he asked as he meticulously organized the inside of the tent, making sure everything had its proper place.
Yi Jung nearly choked. "No way. Jan Di wouldn't let me."
Ji Hoo smirked. "Do you want to?"
Yi Jung hesitated. His fingers traced over the edge of the mattress as if weighing his next words carefully.
Ji Hoo continued, "Just say the word, and I'll convince Jan Di. After all, you didn't come all this way to spend time with me and Jan Di, did you?"
Yi Jung exhaled and shook his head. "It's not that easy. Ga Eul… she's different. She isn't like the girls I've been with before. She deserves more than just a night in a tent with me."
Ji Hoo nodded in understanding. "That's why you're going to Sweden, right? To prove that you can be the man she deserves?"
Yi Jung went quiet.
"Think about it," Ji Hoo added, setting up the last of the tent poles.
A few moments passed in silence before Yi Jung's gaze drifted toward him again. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "And you? I'm sure you've been sleeping next to Jan Di every night since you won that mobile home. Can you bear to part with her?"
Ji Hoo's hands stilled for a brief moment before he continued folding a spare blanket. His voice was quiet when he finally answered, "It doesn't matter."
Yi Jung scoffed. "It doesn't?"
Ji Hoo straightened up and looked out into the distance, where Jan Di and Ga Eul had disappeared into the woods. The rustling of leaves and soft laughter echoed faintly. His grip on the fabric in his hands tightened slightly.
"It really doesn't matter," Ji Hoo repeated, though the weight in his voice betrayed him.
Yi Jung studied his friend for a moment, shaking his head. This man is really hopeless, he thought.
Deep in the Woods…
Jan Di bent down, picking up a sturdy piece of firewood before glancing around to make sure the guys were still busy at the campsite. She leaned closer to Ga Eul and spoke in a hushed tone.
"Hey, Ga Eul… are you planning to spend the night next to Yi Jung Sunbae?"
Ga Eul's hands paused over a bundle of twigs she had gathered. She didn't answer right away. Instead, she slowly pulled off her glove and extended her hand toward Jan Di, revealing a glimmering diamond ring on her finger.
Jan Di's eyes widened slightly as she took Ga Eul's hand, examining the delicate band. "He made you a promise?"
Ga Eul nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "He's going to Sweden… to become a better man."
Jan Di turned the ring slightly, watching the way it caught the light. "So this is a promissory ring?"
Ga Eul hummed in response.
Jan Di smirked. "Yi Jung Sunbae is really serious… but also trapping you."
Ga Eul's smile faltered as she pulled her hand back. "What do you mean?"
Jan Di straightened and exhaled. "I'm not saying Yi Jung Sunbae is trapping you in a bad way, but… with this ring, you'll have to keep thinking of him. No matter how much time passes, it'll be a reminder. What if, after all this time, you realize he isn't your soulmate?"
Ga Eul's lips parted slightly as realization dawned on her. "Are you saying… he's being like Jun Pyo Sunbae?"
Jan Di let out a short laugh. "Yeah." She sighed, turning away slightly, her eyes distant. "Didn't you see what he did at the airport? He made me wear the ring even when I didn't accept it. He was forcing his feelings onto me."
Ga Eul bit her lip and shook her head. "I understand… but I don't think Yi Jung Sunbae is like that."
Jan Di smiled softly. "You're right, Ga Eul. Yi Jung Sunbae isn't as selfish as Gu Jun Pyo. If anything… he's giving you the choice to wait for him or not."
Ga Eul seemed to relax at that thought, but Jan Di noticed how she absentmindedly twisted the ring on her finger.
They continued picking up firewood, their conversation drifting off for a moment until Ga Eul suddenly stopped, turning to face Jan Di with a serious expression.
"Jan Di-ah… why didn't you go to America with Jun Pyo? He said he could get you into any medical school there."
Jan Di froze, her grip tightening around the firewood she was holding. She hadn't expected that question.
"Well…" she started, her voice unusually hesitant. "I… I can't bear to part from my home."
It was a lie. And she knew Ga Eul could see right through it.
Because it wasn't just home she couldn't leave behind.
It was her family.
It was Harabeoji.
It was her friends.
And most of all…
It was him.
Her sunbae.
Ji Hoo.
Ga Eul's eyes narrowed slightly, searching Jan Di's face for any sign of honesty. "Tell me something, Jan Di-ah… Do you think Ji Hoo Sunbae is in love with you?"
Jan Di inhaled sharply, her fingers gripping a dry branch a little too tightly. "I… I don't know."
It was a lie.
And Ga Eul could see right through her.
Jan Di quickly turned away, pretending to focus on gathering firewood. But her mind betrayed her, dragging her back to a memory she had tried to suppress.
FLASHBACK…The sun had started to set, painting the sky in soft shades of gold and pink as Jan Di and Ji Hoo walked side by side along the docks. The salty breeze ruffled her hair, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful—like time had slowed just for the two of them.
She stole a glance at him, his features calm yet distant, as though he was deep in thought. Trying to break the silence, she asked, "How's Grandfather doing?"
Ji Hoo smiled at the mention of his grandfather. "He's still working at the clinic. No doubt he'll continue his work there for as long as he possibly can." His voice was fond, filled with quiet admiration.
Jan Di chuckled. "Yeah, that sounds like him, alright."
Ji Hoo's smile lingered, but his heart was racing. This was it. It was now or never.
For so long, he had held back, watching her from a distance, being her quiet support when she needed someone the most. He had tried to suppress the feelings he had for her, convinced that her heart belonged to someone else.
But seeing her now—walking beside him in the soft evening light—he knew he couldn't keep it inside any longer.
He turned slightly, studying her profile. She looked so at peace, so unaware of the storm in his heart.
He exhaled, steadying himself. Regardless of the outcome—whether it was too late or too soon—he had to say it. Even if it meant rejection. Even if it meant ruining everything.
From around his neck, he unclasped the thin silver chain that held his mother's ring, his fingers trembling slightly as he held it out to her.
Jan Di stopped walking and looked at him, then at the delicate ring in his palm. Her brows furrowed in confusion as she carefully took it, feeling its weight in her hands.
"Grandfather gave this to me recently," Ji Hoo murmured. His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "It once belonged to my grandmother… and then my mother."
Jan Di's head snapped up, her eyes wide in shock. "Sunbae…"
Ji Hoo clenched his jaw and looked away, the fear of rejection clawing at him. But he had come this far—there was no turning back now.
"I don't know when I started to feel this way," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I've come to realize that I can't live without you."
The words hung between them, heavy and unshakable.
Jan Di's breath caught in her throat. She wanted to speak, to say something—anything—but her mind was a mess of emotions.
She knew Ji Hoo cared for her. She had always known.
But to hear him say it… to see the raw honesty in his eyes…
It terrified her.
Because for the first time, she felt something shift inside her. Something she had been too scared to acknowledge before.
And it had nothing to do with Gu Jun Pyo.
END OF FLASHBACK
Jan Di exhaled slowly, blinking back into reality as the warmth of the setting sun kissed her skin. The weight of that memory still lingered in her chest, heavy and unshakable.
She quickly shook her head, trying to push it away.
"Jan Di-ah..." Ga Eul's voice was soft, but persistent. "What exactly happened between you, Ji Hoo Sunbae, and Jun Pyo Sunbae?"
Jan Di stiffened.
Ga Eul's gaze bore into her, searching for the truth, but Jan Di wasn't ready to relive those moments again—not now, not when she was already feeling overwhelmed.
"Stop overthinking, Ga Eul," Jan Di forced a small laugh, trying to sound lighthearted. She reached down, gathering the firewood into her arms. "I'm sure Ji Hoo Sunbae and Yi Jung Sunbae are waiting for us. Let's go."
She turned on her heel and started walking ahead, effectively ending the conversation.
Ga Eul remained still for a moment, watching her best friend's retreating figure.
"I'm overthinking?" she thought, frowning. "Everyone can see Ji Hoo Sunbae is in love with you. And you—"
Her grip on the bundle of twigs in her hands tightened.
"You are falling in love with him, Jan Di. Why can't you admit it?"
Ga Eul let out a sigh. How can you sleep next to a man every night and not fall in love with him?
But she knew her best friend well. Jan Di was stubborn—so stubborn that she probably hadn't even realized the truth herself.
Still, it wasn't just Ji Hoo who was in love.
Jan Di was falling, too.
She just didn't know it yet.
Meanwhile, Jan Di's thoughts were in turmoil as she walked.
"I'm sure… since I rejected him, he stopped loving me."
The words echoed in her mind like a mantra, something she desperately wanted to believe. "He sees me as a friend now, nothing more."
But then—
The memory of his kiss from weeks ago flashed through her mind. The way he had pulled her close, the way he had looked at her afterward, as if she was the only person in the world.
And what about last night?
What about the dream where she had called him husband?
Jan Di clenched her jaw, feeling the weight of confusion pressing down on her.
"This is too much for my small brain to understand," she thought in frustration, shaking her head.
She didn't have time for this.
She had to focus.
On the trip. On the firewood. On anything except Yoon Ji Hoo.
Returning to the Campsite
As Jan Di and Ga Eul made their way back to the campsite, arms full of firewood, they stopped in their tracks, eyes widening in awe.
The once bare space had been transformed. The tents, now fully inflated, stood tall like small cabins, their sturdy material reflecting the soft glow of the rising sun. Warm light from portable lamps illuminated each tent, casting a cozy, inviting atmosphere.
"Wow…" Ga Eul breathed, her eyes darting around the well-organized site.
Jan Di, unable to hold back her excitement, rushed forward. "This is amazing!" She exclaimed, stepping into the first tent.
Inside, the arrangement was impeccable. A compact but elegant table sat in the middle, surrounded by foldable chairs. Cups, plates, and utensils were neatly placed, as if they were dining in a real home rather than out in the wilderness. The attention to detail surprised her—there was even a soft rug spread over part of the tent floor, making it feel even more comfortable.
She turned to Ji Hoo with wide, amazed eyes. "Wow, Sunbae… That old lady was right."
Ji Hoo, who had been adjusting the placement of one of the lamps, glanced at her with a small smile. "You like it?"
Without hesitation, Jan Di grinned. "I do!"
In her excitement, she gave a small jump and landed softly onto the air mattress with a light bounce. Her legs kicked up slightly before she flopped back, sinking into the plush surface.
"It's so cozy, Sunbae…" she murmured, letting herself sink further, stretching out her arms.
Ji Hoo chuckled at her reaction, watching as she made herself comfortable.
"Don't get too cozy," Yi Jung commented from the second tent, smirking as he peeked inside. "We're supposed to be camping, not staying at a luxury resort."
Jan Di stuck out her tongue playfully. "Camping doesn't mean we have to be uncomfortable!"
Ga Eul walked in after her and sat beside her on the mattress, pressing down to test it. "This is really nice… I didn't think it would be this well set up." She glanced at Yi Jung. "Did you do all this?"
"Not just me," Yi Jung admitted, nodding toward Ji Hoo. "Your Ji Hoo Sunbae went all out with the setup. Even the lamps were his idea."
Jan Di turned her head toward Ji Hoo, her expression softening. He had always been thoughtful, but moments like these reminded her just how much he truly cared.
She smiled at him. "Thank you, Sunbae."
Ji Hoo met her gaze, his expression unreadable for a moment before he simply nodded. "Anything to make sure you're comfortable."
And for a second, Jan Di felt a warmth inside her that had nothing to do with the campsite.
By the Lake
Ji Hoo stretched his arms above his head, glancing over to where Yi Jung and Ga Eul were busy setting up the fire. He knew they needed time alone, and this was the perfect opportunity to slip away.
"Jan Di-ah," he called softly, turning to her. "Let Yi Jung and Ga Eul handle the fire. Let's go catch some fish."
Jan Di blinked at him before nodding. "Do you have a fishing rod?" she asked as they started walking toward the lake, stepping carefully over the uneven ground.
"Not really," Ji Hoo admitted, his lips quirking up into a small grin. "I'll just use a stick."
Jan Di rolled her eyes playfully. "You're really something, Sunbae."
As they approached the lake, the air was crisp and cool, the water reflecting the clear blue sky. The gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional chirp of birds filled the atmosphere with a peaceful silence.
Ji Hoo took a few steps toward the water, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. Without hesitation, he slipped it off and tossed it onto a nearby rock.
Jan Di, caught off guard, let out a startled noise and quickly turned around, covering her eyes with both hands. "Yah! Sunbae!"
Ji Hoo chuckled at her reaction. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
"You—you just took off your shirt so suddenly!" she stammered, peeking at him through the gaps of her fingers.
Ji Hoo arched a brow. "This isn't the first time you've seen me like this." His tone was teasing, and his eyes held a glint of mischief.
Realizing he had a point, Jan Di sighed dramatically and dropped her hands, her face still slightly warm. "Fine, but a little warning next time, okay?"
Ji Hoo simply smirked before stepping into the lake. The cool water rippled around his legs as he waded in deeper, letting out a small, contented sigh. The water was refreshing, the perfect temperature for a midday swim.
After a moment, he turned to Jan Di, who stood at the edge of the lake, hesitating.
Ji Hoo's eyes softened as he extended a hand toward her. "The water is great… Come join me."
Jan Di eyed him suspiciously. "You're not going to pull me in, are you?"
His lips twitched as he held back a smile. "I wouldn't do that to you," he said, but the twinkle in his eyes made it hard for her to believe him.
She still hesitated.
Sensing her reluctance, Ji Hoo took a step closer and reassured her with a gentle smile. "I'm here. No need to worry."
Jan Di looked at his outstretched hand, then back at his face. With a deep breath, she reached out and placed her hand in his.
A Breath Away"But you know... I can't swim anymore," Jan Di murmured, hesitation laced in her voice.
Ji Hoo didn't let go of her hands. His grip was steady, firm, a silent promise. "I know that," he said softly. "I'm here."
She trusted him. That much she knew. And so, she let him guide her deeper, step by step, the water rising around them. It was cool, soothing, but his presence was warmer, grounding.
"You're doing great," he encouraged, his voice calm, patient.
Jan Di exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath. She clung to the assurance in his tone, allowing herself to relax.
"Are we going to be showering in the lake?" she asked, trying to lighten the moment.
Ji Hoo chuckled, a soft, rich sound that sent a ripple through her. "If we shower here, we'll contaminate the water," he pointed out. "But we can fetch water and find somewhere private to bathe."
She nodded, accepting his answer, but just as she took another step forward, something slick shifted beneath her feet. She gasped as she lost her balance.
Before she could fall, Ji Hoo caught her.
His grip was unshaken, unwavering. One hand stayed locked with hers, while the other found its way to her waist, pulling her against him.
Jan Di's hands landed on his bare chest, her fingers pressing into the solid warmth of his skin. A tremor ran through her—not from the water, but from the sudden awareness of how close they were.
Her breath hitched.
Ji Hoo didn't move. He didn't speak. But she could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath her palms, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—calm, controlled, so different from the wild pounding in her own.
She dared to look up, and that was her mistake.
Their faces were only inches apart. His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down his cheek, catching the soft glow of daylight. But it was his expression that held her captive.
There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw, something that sent her pulse into chaos.
His fingers tightened slightly at her waist, like he was fighting something within himself. His breathing was slow, controlled, but Jan Di wasn't sure if it was to steady himself or her.
Her lips parted slightly, though she had no words to say.
Ji Hoo's gaze flickered—just for a second—down to her lips.
Her stomach flipped.
The world around them blurred. The rustling trees, the rippling water, the distant voices—they all faded, drowned out by the pounding in her chest.
Jan Di wasn't sure if she was moving closer or if he was, but for the first time, she realized something terrifying.
She didn't want to pull away.
And neither did he.
A sudden sensation brushed against Jan Di's foot, light and unexpected. She gasped, jerking slightly in Ji Hoo's hold.
"What was that?!" she yelped, gripping his shoulders instinctively.
Ji Hoo blinked, as if waking from a trance. His hands loosened their hold just enough to give her space, but he didn't let go completely. A small, amused smile tugged at his lips. "Probably just a fish," he said, voice softer than usual.
Jan Di shuddered, shaking her foot beneath the water. "A fish?! Sunbae, what if it bites me?"
He chuckled, the spell between them dissolving into lightheartedness. "Then I guess I'll have to save you again."
Rolling her eyes, she splashed water toward him. "Not funny!"
Ji Hoo let out a low laugh and dodged the splash, but something in his gaze lingered. Something unreadable.
Jan Di didn't let herself think about it.
The moment—the almost—was gone.
Jan Di handed him a sturdy stick, watching with curious anticipation as Ji Hoo stepped deeper into the water. The sun reflected off the rippling surface, casting golden highlights across his bare shoulders. He moved with quiet precision, eyes scanning the water like a seasoned hunter.
Then, without hesitation, he struck.
A swift, fluid motion—sharp, decisive.
The water splashed, and when it settled, two fish wriggled on the end of his stick.
"Wow, Sunbae!" Jan Di gasped, her eyes widening in amazement. "That was incredible!"
She clapped her hands together, her excitement bubbling over. Unable to contain herself, she hopped up and down on the riverbank.
Ji Hoo turned to her, shaking his wet hair slightly. A small, proud smile played on his lips as he lifted the stick to show her their catch. "Not bad, right?"
"Not bad?" she scoffed. "That was amazing! You caught two in one shot! Are you secretly some kind of wilderness expert?"
Ji Hoo let out a soft chuckle. "Just lucky." He waded toward her, lifting the fish out of the water. "Hold this."
Jan Di hesitated, scrunching her nose. "Uh… they're still moving."
"They won't bite," he teased, holding them out closer. "Unless you take too long."
She huffed and carefully reached out, flinching slightly as the slippery fish twitched in her grasp. "Ew, ew, ew!" she muttered, wriggling her fingers but holding on.
Ji Hoo laughed at her reaction. "You wanted fish for dinner, didn't you?"
"Yeah, but I didn't think I'd have to hold them like this!" she whined, making a face.
Ji Hoo shook his head in amusement and took them back from her, setting them aside on a flat rock. "There. Now we just need a few more."
Jan Di folded her arms, still watching him with admiration. "Honestly, Sunbae… you never stop surprising me."
Ji Hoo met her gaze briefly before turning back to the water, his expression unreadable. "I hope that's a good thing," he murmured before preparing to strike again.
"This is for lunch, Sunbae!" Jan Di declared with determination, brushing off the lingering excitement as she rushed back to their camp. She didn't wait for Ji Hoo's response, already focused on the next task.
She grabbed the small knife from the supplies, her hands quick and efficient as she returned to the riverbank. The fish flopped weakly on the rock, and she took a steadying breath before kneeling down.
Ji Hoo watched as she positioned the first fish, pressing her lips together in concentration. With careful, deliberate movements, she began scaling it. Her fingers were firm but gentle, her strokes precise, revealing the smooth, silvery skin underneath.
"You've done this before," Ji Hoo observed, kneeling beside her.
"Of course," Jan Di replied without looking up. "I had to help my mom with kitchen work, remember? When you grow up in a small restaurant, you learn how to handle things like this."
Ji Hoo hummed in understanding. He watched her for a moment longer before reaching out. "Let me help."
Jan Di looked up, surprised. "You know how to do this?"
Ji Hoo shrugged, picking up the second fish. "Not as well as you, but I can try."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "Alright, Sunbae. Let's see what you've got."
They worked side by side, the quiet rhythm of scraping scales and the soft rustling of the river filling the air. Every now and then, Jan Di would steal a glance at Ji Hoo—his focused expression, the way his fingers moved carefully despite his inexperience.
For a man who had grown up with wealth and privilege, he had always been willing to learn. Always willing to try.
She felt a warmth spread through her chest at the thought.
Ji Hoo, unaware of her gaze, chuckled as he struggled with a stubborn patch of scales. "I think your fish is mocking me."
Jan Di laughed, nudging him playfully with her elbow. "Maybe you should stick to catching them, Sunbae. I'll handle the rest."
Ji Hoo turned to her with a soft smile. "Teamwork, right?"
She blinked, her heart skipping for a second before she quickly turned back to her task.
"Yeah," she mumbled, suddenly flustered. "Teamwork."
Jan Di wiped her damp hands on her shorts before stepping cautiously into the water again. The river was calmer now, the soft ripples barely brushing against her skin as she moved toward Ji Hoo.
"Come, and I'll give you therapy for your shoulder," Ji Hoo said, his voice gentle but firm.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you a doctor now, Sunbae?" she teased, but she still waded closer.
"Not yet," he admitted with a small smirk. "But I know a thing or two."
Before she could protest further, he took her wrist and turned her around, guiding her carefully until her back pressed against his bare chest. She stiffened for a moment, feeling the warmth of his skin even through the thin fabric of her tank top.
Her breath caught slightly as she tilted her chin up and met his gaze. The water shimmered around them, the golden sunlight filtering through the trees, casting soft shadows on Ji Hoo's face. His eyes were calm—steady, unwavering—as if he were silently telling her to trust him.
Without a word, he slowly leaned her back, supporting her weight as he adjusted her injured shoulder with gentle, precise movements. His fingers pressed firmly but carefully, working through the tension that had settled there since her injury.
"Do you miss swimming?" he asked after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jan Di stared at the sky, feeling the cool water beneath her and Ji Hoo's warmth behind her. She exhaled softly. "Yes," she admitted. "I do. A lot."
"Don't worry," Ji Hoo murmured, his breath brushing against her temple. "I promise you... you will swim again."
She turned her head slightly, her eyes searching his face for answers. "But how?"
A small, knowing smile tugged at his lips. "It's a surprise."
Jan Di narrowed her eyes at him. "Sunbae..."
He simply chuckled, guiding her shoulder into another slow stretch. "Trust me."
And for some reason, as she floated in his arms, the water lapping gently around them, she found that she already did.
From the very first moment she encountered Ji Hoo, standing serenely in the quiet schoolyard, his slender fingers gracefully caressing the strings of his violin, Jan Di felt an instinctive trust blossom within her. It wasn't a sentiment she scrutinized or questioned—it simply existed, a silent truth nestled deep in the core of her heart, pulsing with each breath.
She had trusted him implicitly when he extended a gentle hand to help her up after she stumbled awkwardly on the stairs, his touch both reassuring and steady. She had trusted him completely when he enveloped her in his warmth during a sudden downpour, carrying her effortlessly without uttering a single word. In the darkest corners of her life, when despair loomed large and her spirit faltered, Ji Hoo had consistently emerged like a beacon of hope, offering solace without any expectation in return.
In a world that often felt chaotic and unpredictable, when she battled self-doubt and everything around her seemed to unravel like threads of a fragile tapestry, Ji Hoo remained her unwavering anchor. She never questioned his motives or felt apprehensive about the vulnerability she shared with him. Unlike the tumultuous and passionate moments she experienced with Jun Pyo—where hesitation sometimes crept in, causing her to bristle at the emotional storms—Ji Hoo was a serene, calming presence. There was no tempest with him, only a profound and quiet understanding that enveloped her like a soft embrace.
As he held her gently in the cool water, guiding her through measured, deliberate movements that felt like a delicate dance, an epiphany washed over her. The realization settled in her heart: she trusted Ji Hoo more than she trusted herself. More than she could ever trust anyone else.
If he assured her that she would swim again, she accepted it with every fiber of her being. If he whispered that she would be okay, an unwavering certainty blossomed inside her—somehow, she just knew it to be true.
Because Ji Hoo had always been her safety net, never allowing her to falter when the ground beneath her feet grew shaky. And in the deepest recesses of her heart, she held onto the comforting notion that he never would. They were soulmates in the truest sense of the word.
Their connection didn't rely on elaborate declarations or grand promises etched in stone; instead, it was meticulously woven through a tapestry of countless quiet moments. It lay in the subtle way he seemed to read her thoughts without her having to verbalize them, in the warmth that radiated from his mere presence, drawing her closer when shadows crept into her mind.
Together, they formed an exquisite bond, a perfect team. Where she stumbled in uncertainty, he steadied her with unwavering support. Where his reticence filled the air, she added the warmth of her laughter and light. Their energies balanced effortlessly, as though the universe had meticulously crafted them to fit together in a way that was uniquely theirs.
Jan Di recognized that the future was a vast expanse of uncertainty, but one truth anchored her: no matter where life's unpredictable currents carried them, and no matter how swiftly time might drift by, Ji Hoo would always remain her sanctuary. And in the quiet depths of her heart, a tender hope fluttered—perhaps she had been his safe haven all along.