The wind met me before the street did.
It slipped past the edge of my collar and pressed flat against the skin at the base of my neck—cold enough to make my shoulders rise before I could stop it. My fingers found the front of my coat and pulled it closer, fabric tightening across my chest as I stepped forward.
Brown leaves scraped along the stone. Dry. Restless.
One caught against the toe of my shoe and dragged for half a step before breaking free, spinning away in a thin spiral as another gust cut through the street.
"The wind already has more bite."
The words left me in a low breath.
I didn't slow.
The morning was awake, but not settled. A shutter lifted somewhere to my right with a long, uneven creak. Metal brushed against metal, then stopped. A voice followed—hoarse, unfinished—calling something into the street that no one answered.
Behind me, a cart rolled past. The wheels struck uneven stone in a steady rhythm—wood knocking into dips, each impact carrying farther than it should. The sound stretched, lingering between footsteps and passing voices.
"Good morning, Miss Chae-won."
My foot paused mid-step.
I held there for a fraction too long before letting the weight settle. I turned slightly, just enough to bring him into view.
"Ah, morning, Mr. Lê. How are you?"
He stood at his doorway, one shoulder resting against the frame as if he had been there for a while. The bottle in his hand tilted loosely, the liquid inside shifting with a slow delay. Light slid across the glass, breaking against his fingers.
"Fine."
A pause.
"And you—are you okay? There was a lot of noise coming from your place last night."
He smiled.
His eyes didn't.
"Ah… sorry. I must have drunk a little too much."
My own smile came a second late.
It held. Barely.
"Are you off to work now? Do not forget to eat something."
I nodded once.
The motion felt automatic—chin down, then up, without weight behind it.
"I won't."
Silence settled between us.
Not stretched. Not tense. Just… there.
I shifted my weight forward and stepped away. My shoe pressed into the stone harder than before, the contact firm, final.
"Odd."
The thought passed through.
It didn't stay.
—
The route to the newspaper firm unfolded the way it always did.
The stones dipped where I expected them to. My foot adjusted before I thought about it, landing slightly off-center to avoid the shallow groove cutting across the path. Ahead, the road narrowed, buildings leaning just enough to force people closer together.
I moved through it without slowing.
Bodies shifted around me—someone stepping aside, someone brushing past—but none of it required attention. The path had been worn into me. Familiar enough to feel shorter than it should be.
I have to repay Da-eun.
My grip on my bag tightened, then loosened.
Write and send Mum some money—
"Watch it, lady!"
The voice cut clean.
I stepped into someone's path too late. The impact followed—shoulder meeting something solid, dull but enough to push me back half a step. My heel caught, slipped, then found the ground again.
"I am sorry."
The words came out immediately.
I bowed, eyes dropping before I could register his face. Heat climbed up my neck, spreading too fast.
"Tsk."
By the time I straightened, he was already gone.
The sound stayed longer than he did.
I lifted my head.
This time, I kept my eyes up.
Movement everywhere—people cutting across each other, shifting direction without warning. A basket lifted. A child tugging at a sleeve. The street moved whether I paid attention or not.
My fingers adjusted on my bag.
I stepped forward.
—
"Good morning, Mr. Jun. How was your night?"
The shop sat beside the editorial building, its door held open by a wooden crate pressed against the frame. The scent reached me before I crossed the threshold—citrus, faint but persistent, layered over something warmer.
"Good morning, Chae-won. Fine—and yours?"
He didn't turn fully as he spoke. His hands kept working.
"Fine."
I stepped inside and shifted to the side. The floorboard beneath my foot dipped slightly, the wood giving just enough to feel through my shoe.
Paper rustled.
Twine pulled tight.
His hands moved quickly—folding, wrapping, securing without hesitation.
The other customer left.
"The usual?"
I nodded.
He reached without looking, assembling everything in a sequence that didn't need thought. Each item found its place like it had already been decided.
"Have some sweets as well."
He added them before I answered.
The glass jar near the counter caught the light, fracturing it into small, shifting reflections as his hand passed over it.
"Thank you."
I accepted the package with both hands.
Warmth pressed through the paper into my palms. Steady. Real.
I held it a moment longer than necessary before turning back outside.
The air shifted immediately.
Cooler.
Thinner.
—
"Good morning, Chae-won. How was your novel last night?"
Da-eun's voice reached me as I set my things down.
"Morning, Da-eun."
I slid into my seat. The chair dragged slightly before settling.
My fingers rested on the edge of the desk.
"How did you know?"
The question came out sharper than I meant.
My head lifted.
She smiled, already feeding paper into the typewriter, adjusting it with small, practiced taps.
"That's one reason why you would have turned me down."
"Turn you down—"
The words stalled.
Didn't settle into anything.
"Did you end up drinking when you got home?" she asked, a quiet laugh following.
I looked at her.
The question landed wrong—like stepping somewhere I couldn't see.
"I think so."
It didn't feel complete.
"Well, there was no point going with your absence."
She smoothed the page flat.
"Couples and your pity," I muttered, turning back to my desk.
The typewriter waited.
The blank page above it didn't.
—
Time stretched.
Uneven.
Drafts came in mismatched stacks—some thick, some thin, edges uneven, ink smudged where someone had paused too long. I aligned them one by one before feeding them into the machine.
Click.
Press.
Slide.
The same resistance. The same release.
The rhythm built.
It filled the space—layering with the shuffle of paper, the occasional scrape of a chair.
My awareness narrowed.
Words lost weight. Became shapes. Then patterns.
"Chae-won, the managing editor wants you in his office now."
The voice cut through clean.
I looked up.
The clerk was already walking away.
"What did you do?"
Da-eun didn't hesitate.
"I don't know."
The answer came too quickly.
Silence pressed in.
Mistakes. Missed details. Something I hadn't noticed.
"I will help you finish up."
She was already reaching for my stack.
I nodded.
It felt distant.
I stood.
The space to the office door felt longer than it should. Each step pressed deeper into the floor, my shoulders tightening, breath shortening without warning.
I stopped.
"Sir, it's Chae-won."
My knuckles met the wood.
A dull sound.
"Come in."
I inhaled once.
Then opened the door.
—
The smell hit first.
Tobacco.
Old paper.
It settled at the back of my throat as I stepped in.
The managing editor sat behind his desk, posture straight. His eyes lifted briefly, then dropped.
Then I noticed the other man.
Still.
Quiet.
His suit held the light differently—clean lines, no distortion, everything exactly where it should be.
"Good morning, Miss Cho."
His voice was calm.
Measured.
"Good morning."
My throat tightened slightly.
"Please sit."
I moved before thinking, lowering into the chair.
"I am a lawyer for a company your father held a silent stake in."
He opened his briefcase.
Papers slid out, edges aligned.
"My father."
The words didn't feel like mine.
"Your father held a silent stake in the Cheol ventures of the previous decade. Due to a recent audit by the Central Treasury, these assets have been released."
He paused.
Nothing came.
"Miss Cho."
I looked up.
"These are the settlement agreements."
He pushed them forward.
A pen followed.
"May I read it?"
"Go ahead."
The paper felt heavier than it should.
"A four-bedroom apartment…"
My eyes moved.
"In an expensive area of the city."
My grip tightened.
"A farm—"
I stopped.
Looked up.
He didn't move.
"…back home."
My throat tightened.
"A deposit of 2566 yen…"
The lines blurred.
Not fully.
Just enough.
"The State always takes its due, Miss Chae-won. Ten percent for the Crown. The rest for the daughter."
His voice cut through.
I nodded.
"Now, if you would just sign these."
The pen waited.
I picked it up.
It felt heavier than it should.
I signed.
—
The carriage moved.
Smooth.
Contained.
The city shifted outside in layers—tight streets opening into wider ones. The air changed.
Cleaner.
Quieter.
The road leveled.
The jolts faded.
The house stood ahead.
Red brick.
White stone.
A dark wooden door.
My name on the brass plate.
Still.
Certain.
I stepped out.
The ground felt firmer.
Inside, the space opened.
Rooms aligned cleanly, leading into each other without resistance. Light settled naturally, not forced.
The kitchen.
Ready.
And the library.
Small.
Precise.
Waiting.
I stood there.
Then turned.
—
"If you would like, you could take a train to visit your mother and see the farm."
I looked at him.
"I already discussed it with your boss."
Everything moved too fast after that.
—
The train carried me home.
When I arrived, there was no space.
Mum stood there.
Thinner.
Tired.
I smiled.
We spoke.
Moved.
Explained.
The farm stretched wide.
Open.
She broke.
Tears came without stopping.
Although he was not here… we had money now.
Then—
"kkoma gongjunim."
Little princess.
My chest tightened.
My tears followed.
—
"I can go to school in the city!"
My brother's voice cut through everything.
"We can all move to the city," I said.
Mum shook her head.
"I want to stay here."
The land behind her didn't argue.
Life had changed.
Completely.
And still—
It held.
—
The street felt familiar again.
But distant.
Leaves gathered thicker now, shifting underfoot.
"Good morning, Mr. Lê."
He looked up.
"Ah, Miss Chae-won. Look at you. How are you?"
"I am fine."
I sat.
"So, how are you enjoying your new residence? Your brother and your mother?"
"Everyone is fine."
I held out the bottle.
"I thought I should visit and say hello."
"I did not do anything."
I watched him.
"As difficult as ever."
"Okay. Have a drink with me."
He sighed.
Then accepted.
"What book do you have there?"
"La Belle au bois dormant. The Sleeping Beauty."
He chuckled.
"Good to see you again, bibliophile."
I exhaled softly.
"You can have the bottle's content."
I stood.
"Thank you very much."
I bowed.
He stayed seated.
Quiet.
I held my book closer to my chest as I stepped away, something tightening there.
At the carriage, I paused.
Just once.
Then got in.
And moved forward.