The morning sun bathed the countryside in a soft golden glow, casting long shadows over the winding road. The black sedan hummed steadily along, its sleek exterior blending into the serenity of the rural landscape. Inside the car, the air was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of papers and the soft hum of the engine beneath them.
Hae-won gripped the steering wheel with one hand, her other casually resting on the gear shift. She glanced briefly at the navigation screen—just over ten minutes left until they reached their destination. The open road stretched before them, calming yet oddly heavy, much like the silence that lingered between her and the woman sitting in the back seat.
Hye-su sat upright, legs crossed, reviewing some notes on her tablet. This wasn't a formal trip, but old habits were hard to break. She had grown used to sitting in the back, arranging her thoughts while en route to meetings or events. And though today's journey had nothing to do with company business, the weight of it felt just as important—if not more so.
In truth, the two women were close, and their relationship went far beyond professional. But there was an unspoken understanding between them. Hye-su occupied the back seat not out of superiority but because it gave her space to think—and because Hae-won, as both confidante and strategist, preferred the wheel.
This arrangement was something they'd slipped into naturally over the years. Hae-won's position behind the wheel allowed her to overhear the most delicate conversations Hye-su held, giving her the chance to chime in whenever needed. A second opinion from someone who not only knew the ins and outs of NexaCorp but also helped build it from the ground up was invaluable.
"Everything still on track?" Hye-su asked, breaking the silence.
"Mm-hm," Hae-won replied, glancing at the dashboard. "No traffic so far. Should arrive right on time."
Hye-su gave a small nod, her eyes flicking back to her tablet. For a moment, the only sound was the steady tapping of her fingers on the screen as she reviewed the outline of what lay ahead.
Hae-won glanced at her through the rearview mirror.
"You've got that look again."
Hye-su paused, tilting her head slightly.
"What look?"
"That look where you're already bracing yourself for whatever nonsense Jin-ho is going to throw at us," Hae-won said, lips quirking in amusement.
Hye-su exhaled a dry laugh.
"Can you blame me?"
"Nope." Hae-won adjusted her grip on the wheel. "But let's just hope the nonsense isn't too ridiculous."
A fleeting smile crossed Hye-su's face, but it faded quickly as her mind drifted back to the man they were about to confront. Jin-ho—so close, yet always just out of reach. It felt strange to finally be going to see him, not through a digital avatar but face to face, in the real world.
Hae-won seemed to sense the shift in Hye-su's thoughts.
"We'll figure it out," she said, her voice steady with quiet assurance.
Hye-su looked up from her tablet, her gaze softening.
"I know we will."
The sedan continued down the winding road, carrying them closer to the conversation they had been avoiding for years. Neither knew exactly how it would unfold, but both were ready—or as ready as they could be.
The sedan hummed along the countryside road, the morning light filtering through the windows, casting soft shadows across the car's leather interior. Inside, the mood was subtle but charged—each woman lost in her own thoughts, their emotions twisting into uncharted territory.
For once, neither Hye-su nor Hae-won wore the usual sleek, business-like attire. There were no tailored suits or stiff collars today. Hye-su wore a simple beige sweater tucked into high-waisted black slacks, paired with ankle boots. It was casual, yet polished enough to maintain a sense of authority. Hae-won had gone even simpler—an oversized hoodie layered over leggings, with sneakers she could drive comfortably in. It was strange to dress this way for a meeting that carried so much weight, but maybe it was fitting. This wasn't a corporate negotiation. It was personal.
And yet, this morning, Hye-su had stood before her mirror, hesitating. She wasn't one to linger on wardrobe choices, but today was different. This was Jin-ho they were meeting. A man she hadn't seen in years. A man whose presence had been abruptly yanked out of her life, leaving behind an uneasy mixture of anger, regret, and memories too complicated to untangle.
As much as she told herself that the past was behind her, the act of facing him again stirred feelings she hadn't expected—or wanted. It was almost as if they were starting fresh, yet still carrying the weight of their history. Like two people reunited after years, awkwardly aware that they knew each other better than most but with a strange new distance between them.
Even calling the feeling weird didn't do it justice.
What unsettled her most was the small, almost unconscious choice she had made that morning—to apply more makeup than usual. A bit of eyeliner, a touch of blush, a soft pink lip tint. Nothing extravagant, but enough to feel... noticeable. Hye-su had scowled at her reflection when she realized what she was doing, but she hadn't wiped it off. Why should she? It was just makeup. Nothing more.
Right?
Hae-won, for her part, seemed indifferent on the surface—her eyes focused on the road, her posture relaxed behind the wheel. But inside, her heart swirled with mixed emotions of its own. Jin-ho's sudden return had thrown everything into chaos. Memories of their younger selves kept resurfacing, dredging up emotions that were easier left buried. Hae-won hated how her mind kept circling back to old conversations and forgotten smiles. It was maddening.
Neither woman knew exactly what to expect when they met Jin-ho in person. Sure, NexaRealm was known for its precision in replicating real-world appearances in the game. Players' avatars were updated regularly to mirror their current looks. But Jin-ho was a jailbreak. He hadn't logged in through the usual channels—he had hacked his way in, bypassing every safeguard. His avatar was stuck in time, forever young, just as he'd been four years ago when he disappeared.
The question lingered between them: how much could a person change in four years?
Physically, maybe not much—people didn't transform overnight. But it was the other changes that worried them. The years apart, the silence, the choices Jin-ho had made that neither of them could fully understand. They were about to meet a man who had once been an integral part of their lives, and yet, they couldn't say with certainty who he was now.
"You think he looks the same?" Hye-su finally asked, her voice low but carrying the weight of the unspoken worries between them.
Hae-won smiled faintly, her eyes still on the road.
"Probably. But even if he doesn't... it's still Jin-ho."
Hye-su leaned her head against the cool glass of the window, watching the countryside blur past. A part of her wanted to believe Hae-won's words. But another part, the part that still felt the sting of Jin-ho's sudden departure, wasn't so sure.
And so, they drove on, uncertain of what awaited them but knowing there was no turning back now.
The black sedan glided off the main road, taking the designated exit that led into a quiet, suburban neighbourhood nestled in the Gyeonggi countryside. The paved road narrowed, bordered by neat rows of ginkgo and maple trees, their autumn leaves scattered along the curbs. The housing area had a serene charm, with quaint two-story homes spaced comfortably apart, their gardens dotted with morning dew. It was the kind of place that felt worlds away from the bustling chaos of the NexaCorp offices—a place where time moved slower.
Hae-won slowed the car to a gentle crawl, following the GPS directions displayed on the dashboard. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the occasional chirp of birds or the distant hum of another car somewhere in the neighbourhood. She squinted ahead, making sure they were on the right route and glanced into the rearview mirror to catch Hye-su's gaze. "This should be it," she muttered, more to herself than to her passenger.
Hye-su straightened in her seat, pulling her coat tighter around her. Her hands clenched momentarily, not from the cold, but from a sudden swirl of emotions she couldn't quite suppress. The idea that Jin-ho had been living here, quietly and without their knowledge, gnawed at her. So close, all this time.
"We'll need to walk from here," Hae-won added, as the car rolled to a stop along the curb just a few houses shy of their destination.
Hye-su nodded, already gathering her things. It wasn't the first time she had confronted unexpected emotions, but there was something different about today. Something more unsettling.
They stepped out into the crisp morning air. The leaves crunched beneath their shoes as they adjusted to being on foot, the sound a subtle reminder that the moment they'd been dreading was finally here.
Hae-won locked the car with a beep, glancing around briefly to orient herself. "It should be just a few houses up."
Without another word, the two women began walking down the narrow street, the house numbers passing by slowly, each step bringing them closer to the end of the road—and the beginning of something else entirely.
And so, they walked, their footsteps steady but their hearts anything but.