The sound of waves was the first thing he remembered.
Not the café's morning bell. Not the chatter of tourists outside. Not even his own name.
It was always the ocean.
Every night, without fail, Minjae found himself standing in a vast sea that glowed silver under the moonlight. And every night, there was someone waiting at the horizon—tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes he could never fully see. A silhouette that never came closer, yet never disappeared either.
"Who are you?" Minjae would ask in the dream, his voice trembling like a child's.
The man never answered. Only raised a hand, as if beckoning him forward.
And then Minjae would wake up.
The shrill whistle of the coffee machine brought him back to the present. He groaned, dragging himself out of bed. Morning sunlight leaked through his small apartment window, spilling golden patches across the wooden floor. Below, the sound of waves crashing against rocks mixed with the faint cries of seagulls.
His café sat right on the edge of the beach town—a little wooden building painted pale blue, with glass windows that fogged up whenever it rained. Most days, it was filled with surfers, tourists, or the occasional local who wanted a quiet place.
To strangers, Minjae was just another young café owner. Polite smile, quiet personality, easy on the eyes. But no one knew the truth. No one knew about the dreams. No one knew about the whispers.
Because Minjae had a secret.
When he looked into someone's eyes, if he concentrated hard enough, he could hear it—the faint hum of their thoughts.
It wasn't always clear. Sometimes it was like scattered words carried by the wind. Sometimes it was sharp, loud, impossible to ignore. He didn't use it often. He didn't want to. Reading minds felt like a betrayal, even if the power had been with him since childhood.
But today, as he pulled open the shutters of the café and breathed in the salty air, the dreams weighed heavier on him than usual. His chest ached. His head spun with the image of that faceless man.
Why did it feel so real?
Why did he wake up each morning with the taste of seawater on his lips?
"Brother! Open already, I'm dying for coffee!"
The familiar voice made Minjae blink. It was Sam, a college kid who surfed every morning before class and spent his allowance on espresso shots. Minjae managed a smile as he let him in.
"You're too early," Minjae muttered, switching on the grinder.
"You're too slow," Sam shot back, flopping onto a chair, his wetsuit dripping water all over the wooden floor.
Their usual banter filled the café. Sam complained about professors, Minjae scolded him for wet footprints, and for a moment, things felt normal. But in the back of his mind, Minjae's thoughts kept drifting back to the faceless man.
"Hyung, you okay?" Sam asked, squinting. "You look… distracted."
"I'm fine," Minjae lied, sliding the coffee across the counter.
He didn't mean to do it, but the moment their eyes met, the whisper slipped through.
He looks so lonely these days…I hope he's not sick.
Minjae's chest tightened. He quickly broke eye contact, busying himself with cleaning.
Yes. Lonely. That was the word.
No matter how many people filled the café, no matter how warm the sun was, there was always this emptiness inside him. A hollow space shaped exactly like the man in his dreams.
That night, the dream returned.But this time, it was different.
The faceless man stood closer. Minjae could almost see the outline of his jaw, the curve of his lips. The waves lapped at Minjae's feet, cool and gentle, almost urging him forward.
"Who are you?" Minjae whispered again, desperation leaking into his voice.
This time, the man's lips moved.
He spoke.
But the words were drowned by the crashing of waves.
Minjae reached out, but before he could touch him—he woke up, gasping, his sheets damp with sweat.
The following evening, he decided to walk along the beach to clear his head. The air was sharp with salt, the horizon painted orange by the setting sun. Couples laughed in the distance, kids ran along the shore, and for a fleeting moment, Minjae almost forgot the unease curling inside him.
Until he heard them.
A group of three men, drunk and staggering, their laughter loud and ugly against the calm sea breeze. They spotted him.
"Hey, pretty boy!" one of them slurred, stumbling closer.
Minjae's stomach dropped.
He turned to walk away, but rough hands reached for his arm. "Don't run. Stay with us for a drink."
Minjae froze. His heart hammered in his chest.
Not now. Not here.
"Let go," he said, voice trembling. But they only laughed louder.
And then—it happened.
The ocean roared.
A massive wave rose out of nowhere, crashing against the shore with terrifying force. Water wrapped around the men's legs, yanking them off their feet and throwing them several meters away. They screamed, stumbling back in terror, their laughter gone.
"W-What the hell?!"
"The sea—it grabbed me!"
They scrambled away, running as fast as their drunk legs would carry them.
Minjae stood frozen, his shoes soaked, heart racing. The water lapped gently at his ankles now, calm, almost protective.
His breath came out shaky as he whispered, "W… what was that?"
And then—he heard it.
A voice, deep and resonant, carried by the sea breeze.
I'm here.
Minjae's eyes widened. He spun around, but no one was there. Only the waves, shimmering under the moonlight.
His chest ached with a strange mixture of fear and longing.
"Who are you?" His voice cracked as he shouted into the empty beach. "Why do you keep coming into my dreams?!"
For a moment, silence. Only the steady rhythm of the sea.
Then, faintly—so faintly he almost thought he imagined it—came the reply.
Because I never left you.
Minjae staggered back, his knees nearly buckling.
"What… what do you mean?" he whispered, clutching his chest.
But the voice was gone.
The ocean lay quiet once more, as if nothing had happened.
Minjae sank to the sand, trembling. His mind screamed at him that it wasn't possible. But his heart—it beat wildly, as if it recognized something his brain refused to accept.
Somewhere deep inside, he knew the truth.
This wasn't just a dream.
This wasn't just loneliness.
Someone was waiting for him.
And the sea itself was determined to bring them back together.