I didn't expect to recognise him.
Not after all these years.
But the moment I saw the way he listened, I knew.
The city always softened in the evening. Office lights dimmed behind glass walls, traffic loosening its grip as warm light spilled from shopfronts. The air carried the faint mix of grilled meat, exhaust, and winter-clean cold.
I stood in front of a restaurant I'd passed countless times before, its windows fogged slightly from the heat inside. For a moment, I caught my reflection in the glass.
My name is Kim Minjae.
Twenty-nine years old. I worked at my father's company, senior management in practice if not in name. Tall enough to be noticed, broad enough that people assumed I exercised more than I did. My hair was slicked back in a way that never quite stayed obedient. From the outside, everything about me looked settled.
Normal.
These days had been busy and predictable, successful in ways that could be measured and reported.
That was true until I looked past my reflection and saw someone sitting across the restaurant.
He was turned slightly to the side, listening to someone speak, his posture relaxed in a way that hadn't changed at all. Black hair, a little longer than what most offices preferred, falling softly instead of sharply. Glasses resting low on his nose. His shoulders were narrower than mine, his presence quieter, but unmistakable.
Lee Jihun.
I hadn't seen him in years.
He looked the same. Not frozen in time, but untouched by the kind of polish life had insisted on giving me. The same downward tilt of his head when he listened. The same habit of folding into himself slightly, as if the world took up more space than he did.
How did it end up like this anyway?
We used to talk comfortably. We used to sit side by side and let silence exist without needing to fill it. That was what I thought it would always be, back then. Comfortable. Easy. Something that didn't require effort to maintain.
I was still staring when movement broke the spell.
Someone from his table stood as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Warm air closed around me, carrying the sound of voices and clinking glasses. I slowed unconsciously, adjusting my coat, my attention drawn sideways.
The man stopped near the entrance, speaking to someone just behind me.
"Were you also dining here?"
I moved a step further in, letting the flow pass beside me. One of my team members had already turned, recognising the other party and smiling as he responded.
"Yes. Our team from XV Company is here to celebrate," he said. "The product launch concluded successfully."
Before I reached the dining area, the man from Jihun's table returned the gesture, bowing with a posture that was precise without being rigid.
"Congratulations," he replied. "Our team is here as well. We're from Company DC."
Bows were exchanged, shallow and practiced. Polite voices overlapped briefly, then separated. I continued walking, only half-listening, the words settling belatedly.
So he was working at that company.
It clicked into place with quiet finality. Company DC wasn't based in this city. No wonder we never crossed paths. No wonder years could pass without even a rumour reaching me.
I was almost at our table when my name carried across the room.
"Manager Kim."
I turned. Several people from my team had noticed me. A few stood, glasses still in hand, expressions brightening.
"You've arrived," one of them said. "Please sit with us."
Another added, smiling, "You carried this project. You should have the best spot tonight."
I returned the smile, easy and familiar, lifting a hand in acknowledgment as I walked toward them.
Through the glass partition, Lee Jihun was still seated at his table. His head was slightly bowed, listening to someone beside him.
He didn't look up.
I took my seat where they had left it empty, the chair pulled out as if they'd been waiting for me all along. Conversation resumed immediately, voices overlapping, someone refilling my glass before I had the chance to refuse.
"How was the final approval process?"
"Manager Kim, you must be relieved now."
"We really pulled through this time."
I answered easily, laughing in the right places, nodding when expected. I raised my glass when they did, took a few sips when prompted. Every response came out smoothly, practised over years of doing exactly this.
And yet, my eyes kept drifting.
Across the restaurant, past the glass partition, Lee Jihun sat quietly, listening more than speaking. I caught fragments of him between shoulders and raised glasses. A tilt of his head. The way his fingers rested near his phone. I drank when my attention lingered too long, then turned back to my team.
Time loosened its grip.
One by one, people began excusing themselves. Chairs scraped softly. Jackets were shrugged on. Promises to talk again were exchanged without much conviction.
Then I saw him stand.
Jihun slipped his bag over one shoulder, polite bows exchanged at his table. He moved without hurry, already finished with the evening.
I found myself pushing my chair back.
"Were you leaving as well, Manager Kim?"
I paused. "Um…"
Before I could finish the thought, someone stepped closer. A woman, smiling with a kind of confidence, her friend lingering just behind her.
"Excuse me," she said. "May I have your number?"
My gaze flicked instinctively toward the entrance.
Jihun was already there.
"I'm sorry," I said gently, reaching into my pocket. I handed her my business card instead.
She accepted it with a surprised laugh.
"I need to make a call," I added to my colleagues, already lifting my jacket from the back of the chair.
No one stopped me.
Outside, rain had begun to fall, light at first, then heavier, soaking the pavement in a dull sheen. I turned my head to the right.
Lee Jihun was already some distance away, standing beneath a streetlight, struggling to open his umbrella.
I walked faster without meaning to.
Before I could reach him, a voice reached me through the rain.
"Don't worry. I already took leave."
He was on the phone.
I slowed, then stopped.
What am I doing?
The thought came late, heavy. He might already have someone. A girlfriend. A spouse. A life that didn't include me at all.
"I'll hang up now," he said quietly.
From the phone came a familiar, insistent voice. "Take care. And don't skip your meals again."
A pause.
"Yes, I know," Jihun replied. "My place is near a grocery store."
The voice continued, softer this time.
"Still. Eat properly."
"I will."
The call ended.
He lowered his phone, sliding it into his pocket.
By the time I reached him, rain had already soaked through my sleeve. My hand brushed his shoulder.
He turned.
Up close, nothing had changed. No lines at the corners of his eyes. No signs of time claiming him differently than it had claimed me.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I saw you earlier."
My voice sounded steadier than I felt.
"I thought I should say hello."
For a moment, I waited for something to flicker. Recognition. Confusion. Even politeness shaped by memory.
Nothing came.
He looked at me, calm and distant, as if measuring a stranger who had stepped too close.
"Who are you?"
The rain filled the space between us.
I wasn't mistaken. This was Lee Jihun.
Silence stretched. He bowed slightly, the gesture courteous and final, then stepped past me.
I didn't follow.
I stayed where I was as the rain continued to fall, watching his figure disappear into the night, wondering when exactly we stopped existing in the same moment in time.