They walked toward the car. The driver approached, took their bags, and placed them carefully in the trunk before opening the door.
"Welcome, Miss. Sir," he said with a polite nod.
Junheon inclined his head. "I just realized—I never asked your name. Apologies."
"Kenny, sir. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise, Kenny," Junheon replied warmly.
The three got into the vehicle. The doors closed with a soft click; the engine hummed to life. Kenny glanced in the rearview mirror and gave his report:
"I picked up Miss Mira from Naves. She's home now with two of her friends. The fridge was a bit empty, so I stocked some essentials and sweets. Locks and security cams are active. Everything's safe."
Junheon exhaled, relieved. "That's… a lot. I owe you. Thank you."
"My pleasure, sir," Kenny replied, dimming the route lights slightly. "There's a quiet café nearby if you'd like a stop."
Harin, still gazing out the window, caught his offer. "If you're up for it, let's go. Her friends will probably head out in an hour or two—then we can join her."
"Sounds good," Junheon agreed. "Nice idea."
---
The café sat on the ground floor of an old stone building at the corner. Inside, there was a soft haze of cardamom and coffee. They found a quiet table near the window. Kenny stayed by the entrance.
"The car is just outside. Comms are open," he said, then returned to his post.
"Two black coffees," Harin told the waiter. Once the cups arrived, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small magnetic travel chessboard—matte black and white squares, satisfying little clicks as she set it up.
"Up for a round?"
"Gladly," said Junheon.
They placed the pieces. Harin opened with e4; Junheon replied calmly with c5. A few moves passed in comfortable silence before the conversation found its rhythm.
"How was your day?" Harin asked.
"Busy, but good," Junheon answered. "Math's clean. Structured. I like that. And the cafeteria wasn't terrible."
"Clean structure," Harin echoed with a slight smile. "We had enough noise for one day."
She moved her knight, pressing center control. Junheon countered with a bishop, sealing off the diagonal.
"By the way," Harin continued without looking up, "about the questions I asked in the clinic—I owe you an apology. Yoon gave you anesthetics and I… got curious about your 'honest answers'."
"No harm done," said Junheon. "I only gave one real answer anyway: Mira."
"…Right."
Junheon tilted her head slightly. "Why the sudden awkward face? Did I make you say something embarrassing?"
"No, no," she said, waving it off, clearly flustered. "Let's focus on the game."
A few more pieces exchanged. Harin gained space on the queenside; Junheon aligned his rooks through the center.
"Kenny's a good man," said Harin. "Doesn't warm up to many people. But I think he likes you."
"The feeling's mutual," Junheon said. "He looks terrifying, but there's a small child hiding in there somewhere."
Harin laughed. "We've run enough today. A bit of quiet isn't a bad reward."
She made a clever diagonal maneuver. Junheon chuckled.
"Nice trap," he said.
"Not a trap," she replied. "A challenge. Loser owes the winner one secret… and one dessert."
"I'm in. Secret later, dessert now."
Two moves later, Junheon's rook swept the back rank; his bishop cut off the escape.
"Checkmate."
Harin studied the board, then smiled briefly at him. "Your second lock today. First the blue rose, now this."
"Just a little luck and clean planning," Junheon said.
"Earned luck," she corrected. "As promised—my secret… I trust you, Junheon."
"…Thank you."
"Dessert?"
"Strawberry," Junheon replied.
The waiter brought out a small strawberry dessert—two spoons, one plate. Harin took the first bite.
"We haven't talked about the blue rose yet," she said. "Tell me… which one do you like more—blue or white?"
"Blue. It symbolizes resilience. It grows in ice storms. The real ones? Ridiculously expensive. Wealthy collectors pay a fortune for even one."
"We have one," Harin said. "Not real, of course. But it looks amazing—and that's what matters."
"Clarity + patience = excellence," she summed up. "And if you add kindness, the color deepens."
They sipped their coffee. Outside, the city hummed in low tones. Inside, their words stayed simple and clear.
"Another round?" Harin asked.
"Sure," Junheon said. "But no stakes this time. Let's just enjoy it."
"Agreed."
She moved her pawns. Junheon didn't repeat his earlier mistake—he castled early, controlled space. The conversation moved naturally.
"Did you tell Lenny?" Junheon asked.
"Yeah," Harin replied. "Yoon shared the clinic report. The opening ceremony's been postponed. We're off the hook."
She paused, her voice dropping a bit.
"I can't apologize for what happened in the hallway. I didn't start it. But I ended it. That's part of what I do."
Junheon gave a small nod. "If you hadn't come, I'd have ended it in a few more minutes."
"Mm," Harin replied. "Didn't look like that. But for today, I'll pretend to believe you."
Midgame, Harin lured Junheon's queen into a trap. The tempo shifted.
"Let's name this move," she said.
"White Rose Squeeze?"
"Fits."
Three moves later, Harin brought her rook to the seventh rank. Junheon miscalculated an escape—checkmate.
"Nice game," he said, bowing his head.
The waiter refreshed their coffee. Junheon offered the last bite of dessert with a smile.
"By the way," Harin said, "we're not calling Kenny in—but we should thank him."
"We will when we get home," said Junheon. "He's done more than his share today."
Harin's expression sobered. "One rule: what happened today—clinic, hallway, 'that' summoning—stays between us. Novarion feeds on gossip."
"Understood," said Junheon. "My lock's tight."
A pause, then Harin added, "One more thing. Tomorrow, pairwork resumes. If you're willing to partner again… I'm available."
Junheon didn't even blink. "I'd be crazy to say no."
A message buzzed from Kenny: "Exit route is clear when you're ready."
Harin closed the chess set and slipped it into her bag. "Let's go. Walk to the car. Slowly."
They stepped out into the evening air. Streetlights traced soft lines on the sidewalk. They said nothing. The silence between them was gentle—healing, not empty.
When they reached the car, Kenny opened the door.
"Ready?"
"Ready," Harin replied. "Let's go see Mira."
Kenny smiled. The engine stirred like a silk thread through quiet water.
As the car slipped into the secure lane, the city's noise faded behind them. Inside, three people and half an hour of calm silence felt like the best reward the day could offer.
---