Legal Disclaimer
This light novel is inspired by the beautiful landscapes and cultures of Bolivia and South Korea. However, the characters, events, and situations portrayed are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This content does not intend to represent or reflect the historical, social, or cultural reality of either country. The author disclaims any legal liability arising from the interpretation of these elements.
Content Warning: This chapter contains sensitive and potentially disturbing themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 9– Encounters
Part 10.1. On the Way
The Santa Cruz sun was beginning to set as the caravan of cars drove through the city's center.
Ryu's parents and part of the legal team had gone ahead to a hotel in the west, while the second car carried Ryu, Seo-Yeon, and Min-jun.
Min-Jun pressed his face against the window, fascinated by everything he saw.
"Look at that woman! Is she indigenous?"
he asked, his eyes wide with wonder.
"Look at that girl... she's so pretty. She has a different kind of charm,"
he whispered, glancing sideways at Seo-Yeon.
"Oh, Min-Jun..." she sighed, amused, turning slightly toward him.
"You hardly ever left Korea, Min-jun. You lived in the States for a couple of years when you were little, and you spent all your time there with books and video games. It doesn't surprise me that you see this as a new spectacle."
Min-Jun looked at her, feigning a mortal wound. "It's not my fault that everything there is so... similar. Here, there's more variety on a single block than in the entire Gangnam district."
***
"Yes, this country is very diverse," Seo-Yeon said. After a pause, she looked at her brother seriously.
"But be careful, Min-Jun. Many girls here start families very young. It's not always by accident; sometimes it's just what's normal. So don't go around with your usual games."
Min-Jun raised an eyebrow slightly, a barely perceptible smile on his face before he nodded. He changed the subject, pointing to a colorful mural that read: "Collas and Cambas united for Bolivia!"
"Does that mean people are separated here by culture?"
"Something like that," Seo-Yeon said, smiling.
"The cambas are from here and the collas are from the west. It's not offensive if you know how to use it, but it's better to be careful. It's like saying 'the people from Seoul and the people from Busan' in Korea. It's not exactly the same, but there are clear differences in culture, accent, and way of thinking,"
Seo-Yeon explained, with the patience of an older sister who knows he will learn over time.
"Ah... interesting," Min-Jun murmured. "And is it offensive to say it?"
"It depends," she replied, more serious now.
"Calling someone from here a camba is a point of pride. But if you call someone with Andean features a colla... they might get upset.
Not everyone, of course, but some people take it very personally. It's better not to use those words if you don't know how the person feels."
***
Min-Jun nodded slowly, processing the information. Then, with a mischievous smile, he said.
"Nuna, what about the men?"
Seo-Yeon raised an eyebrow and smiled.
"I'm married, but I'm not blind. Yes, some of them are attractive."
They shared a knowing look and a smile.
***
Ryu, sitting in the back, put his tablet aside. His gaze fell on a young couple on the street.
The woman, visibly pregnant, was laughing while her partner carried groceries. Their faces were young and carefree.
This made Ryu think,
"I don't even know where Zayra's story began. It's not something I should ask now.
But I'm intrigued by everything she must have experienced before I came along."
At the hotel, far from the city's hustle and bustle, Zayra was alone in her room.
She sighed as she looked at a box that wasn't hers, feeling as if an invisible thread connected her to an unexpected destiny.
Part 10.2 Dressing Anew for Life
In her room, Zayra carefully touched the white dress she was wearing, as if touching a new version of herself.
Camila approached from behind with a smile.
"If Ryu doesn't fall in love after seeing you today, he's blind," she joked as she adjusted a strap.
"Just like your husband fell in love with you from the very first moment,"
Zayra replied, smiling tenderly. "Even if he hides it with that serious German accent."
Camila let out a brief, almost surprised laugh and shook her head. She couldn't help but reflect tenderly,
"That's my sister. She has this gift for saying something so beautiful with an astonishing ease.
When you treat her with kindness, she returns an even greater one. But if you make her angry... oh, my God, she's like a walking demon.
Though even then, she's still a sweetheart. She's one of a kind."
Siraya came in with a fresh Toborochi flower.
"My daughter... you look so beautiful," she said softly, placing it delicately in her hair.
Zayra lowered her gaze slightly, and for an instant, something tightened in her chest.
The texture of the petals reminded her of the lost locket she had worn since she was a child and no longer had.
She turned and, with a charming smile, replied cheekily, "Where do you think I inherited this beauty?"
Siraya laughed, looking at her daughter with amusement, as she gently placed the flower in her hair.
However, Zayra couldn't help but feel a little sad, as she had lost something very important that meant a lot to her and her mother.
She knew she couldn't tell her about the lost locket at that moment; it wasn't prudent.
***
A soft knock on the door pulled her from her trance.
"Are you ready?" Mariano asked, peeking in.
"Yes," Zayra replied, taking a breath.
She walked alongside Mariano, each step heavier than the last. Her fingers clung to her brother's arm without her realizing it.
***
When she looked up at the glass-walled hall, her heart stopped: there he was... the man from the airport.
Everything she had said in Spanish, believing he didn't understand.
Now it seemed to hang between them like an invisible thread, tensing every muscle in her body.
Suddenly, the following words popped into her head.
"Ah, yes... him. The guy from the airport, who clearly has an elephant's memory. And here I am, standing as if nothing happened."
She sighed in resignation, lowering her head.
"Well, at least I can try to apologize with style... or with sarcasm. That always works, right?"
***
Zayra walked forward with Mariano, but as she looked up at the glass-walled hall, her blood ran cold.
There he was, the man from the airport, his gaze fixed as if he remembered every word she had said... and for an instant,
Zayra felt the world stop around her. He was barely tilting his mouth into a half-smile that she didn't know whether to interpret as mockery or curiosity.
Her heart skipped a beat, and a whirlwind of emotion and embarrassment swept through her as she instinctively clenched her fist tightly.
"What's wrong?" Mariano whispered, noticing her tension.
"It's him..." she whispered through gritted teeth.
"The one from the airport... and he understood me when I was rude to him in Spanish."
Mariano glanced at her and let out a chuckle.
"Well, since you're dressed like a princess, at least you're going to apologize with style," he said, taking her arm naturally and guiding her inside.
Zayra nodded, feeling how fear and emotion mixed in a whirlwind of anticipation.
That instant would mark the beginning of something bigger than both of them, something they couldn't even foresee.