IWYFB Chapter 6

No matter how hungry they were, the amount of food on the table seemed excessive for just two people.

 

Yet Tae-mu, as if truly ravenous, was eating with an ease Ji-woo had never seen before, mouthful after mouthful, unbothered by appearances.

 

She found herself sneaking glances at him, curious.

 

The food, at least, was surprisingly good.

 

“This place is nice. Let’s come again next time.”

 

The words were casual, spoken in passing, yet they sent a tremor through her chest.

 

It was foolish, she knew.

 

It was no different from the polite exchanges people often made, “Let’s have a meal together sometime,” or “Let’s keep in touch.” Empty phrases, spoken without weight, without promise.

 

Yet she couldn’t help but dwell on them.

 

She recalled what her father had mentioned not long ago, Tae-mu was preparing to study abroad.

 

His father had attended Yale, so it was likely he would follow in the same footsteps.

 

And when that happened, his grandfather would undoubtedly take it hard.

 

Ji-woo, too, had felt something shift within her when she first heard the news. A hollowness in her chest, as if an unseen thread tying them together had begun to fray.

 

She had tried to push the thought aside, yet it had lingered, shadowing her days.

 

She certainly hadn’t expected to run into him at the bookstore today.

 

But now, sitting across from him, hearing him say, “Let’s come again next time,” she couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment, this brief, stolen afternoon, was an unspoken farewell.

 

 

 

 

🌿

 

 

 

 

Tae-mu had returned to Haeju after a long time away.

 

With the college entrance exams approaching, he had spent most of his days in Seoul, attending prep classes after fulfilling the bare minimum attendance at school.

 

If not for his grandfather’s birthday, his mother would never have allowed him to come back.

 

She often used his education as an excuse, but in truth, she simply wanted to leave Haeju behind, to move to Seoul, where opportunities stretched endlessly.

 

But Tae-mu loved this place.

 

It wasn’t just because he had been born and raised here.

 

Haeju had an openness to it, an unbroken sky, a horizon unmarred by towering buildings.

 

Seoul suffocated him. The dryness of the city air, the relentless pace, the impersonal, hardened atmosphere, it never felt like home.

 

So, the moment he crossed into Haeju’s borders, something within him eased.

 

Perhaps, like an animal drawn back to its den, it was instinct.

 

Lowering the car window, he let the crisp air fill his lungs.

 

Even with the town center now busier than he remembered, bustling with the market crowd, it still held a warmth that no metropolis could replicate.

 

Then, just as the car rolled to a stop, something, or rather, someone, caught his eye.

 

A familiar figure stepped down from a bus, her short hair swaying with the motion.

 

Ji-woo.

 

She glanced around, adjusting to her surroundings, unaware of the eyes that had locked onto her.

 

Without a second thought, Tae-mu turned to the driver.

 

“I’ll get off here.” His voice was firm. “Take your time with lunch. I might be a while, I’ll call you later.”

 

Before the driver could respond, Tae-mu was already out the door, his strides quick and sure as he made his way toward the bookstore Ji-woo had just entered.

 

 

 

 

Even amidst the crowd filling the bookstore, spotting Ji-woo was effortless.

 

Tae-mu strode toward her with purpose, only to halt abruptly.

 

A boy stood close behind her, so close it was intentional.

 

With a practiced ease, the boy reached for a book on the high shelf and handed it to Ji-woo, his expression tinged with shy anticipation.

 

Anyone could see it, he was interested in her.

 

And in that instant, an unfamiliar fury surged through Tae-mu’s veins, searing and unbidden.

 

A suffocating heat coiled in his chest, an irrational but undeniable rage.

 

From a distance, he watched Ji-woo step away, deliberately avoiding the boy.

 

Only then did Tae-mu move again.

 

 

 

 

Walking side by side with Ji-woo, Tae-mu realized just how much she had grown.

 

Back then, she had been so small, almost childlike, but now, her head nearly reached his shoulder.

 

With his own height at 187 centimeters, he could roughly gauge hers.

 

It was strange, how that tiny girl had grown so much without him noticing.

 

He still remembered vividly the first time he had locked eyes with her, those large, dark irises brimming with innocent wonder.

 

And the way she had followed him around, calling him oppa in that sweet, delicate voice, it had been enough to melt even the hardest heart.

 

At the time, he had thought that if he ever had a younger sister, she would be just like Ji-woo.

 

“What kind of food do you like?” he asked suddenly.

 

Ji-woo tilted her head up, meeting his gaze.

 

For a brief moment, those clear, wide eyes stared into his, before she hastily looked away.

 

“I… I eat anything. I’m not picky. Whatever you want is fine with me.”

 

Ahead of them, a group of people approached, distracted and not watching where they were going.

 

Ji-woo, still looking down as she walked, was about to collide with them.

 

Without a second thought, Tae-mu reached out, catching her shoulder and pulling her aside.

 

In an instant, she found herself against his chest, his arms steadying her as the group brushed past the spot where she had just been standing.

 

Ji-woo’s face burned, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

 

Fearing he might notice, she held her breath, her lips slightly parted, struggling to keep still.

 

“Watch where you’re going.”

 

As his warmth slowly lifted from her shoulder, Ji-woo couldn’t explain why she felt a sudden pang of loss.

 

 

 

 

🌿

 

 

 

As they stepped out after a late lunch, the streets seemed even more crowded than before, a sea of people swarming through the weekend afternoon.

 

Street vendors clogged the sidewalks, their stalls overflowing into the road, blurring the lines between pedestrian paths and traffic.

 

“You’re heading straight home, right?” Tae-mu asked.

 

Ji-woo nodded, and he watched her carefully.

 

It was almost time for university applications to begin.

 

No one knew when he would return to Haeju again.

 

If his schedule became too tight, he might not even get a chance to say goodbye to his grandfather before leaving for the U.S.

 

And if that happened, today might very well be the last time he saw Ji-woo.

 

By the time they met again, she, too, would have changed, perhaps beyond recognition.

 

In a way, he had witnessed her entire growth, from childhood to now, always watching from the sidelines.

 

“…Want to walk a little?”

 

His voice, usually dry and distant, carried a subtle warmth today, though Ji-woo told herself it was only her imagination.

 

“This place has changed a lot,”

 

he mused, scanning the bustling streets.

 

“Every time I come down, it feels even more crowded.”

 

“They’re building a direct road to Seoul.”

 

Ji-woo replied.

 

“A lot of outsiders are visiting to look at houses. Even in my neighborhood, we’ve had a bunch of people coming by.”

 

Tae-mu had already heard about it from his parents. The land prices in the area were soaring, and his mother wanted to convince his grandfather to sell off everything except the ancestral burial grounds.

 

But his grandfather had firmly refused, and the discussion had ended there.

 

His mother still divided her time between Seoul and Haeju, though ever since Tae-mu had started attending academies in the city, she spent more time in Seoul.

 

“…Do you want to leave here, too?” he asked.

 

Ji-woo hesitated.

 

“I’m not sure yet. I like visiting Seoul, but I’ve never thought about living there. I just… feel comfortable here.”

 

For a brief moment, a flicker of relief crossed Tae-mu’s gaze, so fleeting she might have imagined it.

 

Perhaps it was selfish, but he wanted her to stay, just as she was, in this place.

 

When he thought of Haeju, he thought of Ji-woo.

 

Even when he was away, something always pulled his heart back here.

 

“How are your parents?” he asked.

 

“My dad got promoted to district head last spring, so he’s even busier now. And Mom complains about working alone, but when the harvest season comes, she always says she loves farming too much to quit.”

 

Tae-mu listened, the familiar imagery painting itself in his mind.

 

Ji-woo had a way of speaking that made others truly hear her.

 

Though shy at times, she never hesitated to say what was on her mind.

 

There was a quiet vitality in her voice, something that made listening feel effortless.

 

“Last week, your grandfather gave us a basket of dried persimmons and fruit,” Ji-woo continued.

 

“Every time I visit, he sends me home with snacks.”

 

Tae-mu frowned slightly.

 

“…Every time?”

 

The words stuck in his mind.

 

“You visit my grandfather often?”

 

Most people found his grandfather intimidating. Hardly anyone visited unless they had a reason.

 

Ji-woo nodded.

 

“I ran into him not long after you left for Seoul. He asked why I wasn’t coming around anymore. Then he said you had books at home no one was reading, so I should take some. He said they’d just go to waste otherwise.”

 

She glanced at Tae-mu, worried he might be offended.

 

But he simply stared at her, struggling to process the idea.

 

Ji-woo, visiting his grandfather, alone?

 

“You… don’t find him scary?”

 

She blinked. “Why would I?”

 

His grandfather was infamous for his sternness, even his own father barely exchanged more than a few words with him.

 

Ji-woo, however, simply smiled.

 

“Whenever I visit, he pulls out all sorts of snacks from his secret stash. Oh, and he just got a new phone recently. He was so proud of it, but of course, I had to teach him how to use it.”

 

Tae-mu’s expression grew unreadable.

 

Even he, the only one in the family who ever truly spoke with his grandfather, had never seen this side of him.