Chapter 2: The Walls Between Us
The days in the quiet apartment complex seemed to blur together for Jo Yi-Su, filled with small routines and fleeting moments that she eagerly cherished. Though she tried to focus on settling into her new home and exploring the city, her thoughts always wandered back to Im Ki-Joo.
He was like a puzzle, each interaction adding a new piece, but still leaving the picture incomplete. His curt responses, fleeting glances, and guarded demeanor made her all the more determined to uncover the man behind the walls he'd built.
One evening, as Jo Yi-Su prepared to water the small plants she'd placed on her windowsill, her eyes wandered across to Ki-Joo's window. The curtains were drawn back slightly, revealing him sitting at his desk, his head buried in papers. She hesitated, then waved.
To her surprise, Ki-Joo looked up. For a moment, their eyes met through the glass. Jo Yi-Su felt her heart skip, but before she could say or do anything, he stood up and pulled the curtains closed.
"Rude," she muttered, though she couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips.
---
The following week, Jo Yi-Su decided to explore the nearby market. The lively atmosphere, filled with the chatter of vendors and the rich aroma of street food, was a stark contrast to the stillness of her apartment.
As she browsed through a stall selling fresh produce, she felt a familiar presence nearby. Turning, she spotted Ki-Joo standing by another stall, examining a bundle of herbs.
"Ki-Joo!" she called out instinctively, waving.
He looked up, his expression unreadable as always, but he didn't ignore her. Instead, he nodded in acknowledgment.
"Shopping for your mom?" Jo Yi-Su asked as she approached.
"Something like that," he replied, his tone as neutral as ever.
Jo Yi-Su noticed he was holding a small list. "Let me guess," she said, peeking at the paper. "You're getting everything on the list but don't actually know how to cook any of it."
Ki-Joo raised an eyebrow. "And how would you know that?"
"Call it a hunch," she said with a grin. "I could help, you know. I'm a pretty good cook."
He hesitated, as if weighing the idea, before finally saying, "Fine. But don't expect much."
---
Back at Ki-Joo's apartment, Jo Yi-Su took charge of the kitchen, her confidence growing as she worked. She handed him small tasks—chopping vegetables, stirring the pot—but it quickly became clear he was out of his depth.
"You've never cooked before, have you?" she teased, watching him struggle to cut an onion.
Ki-Joo shot her a glare. "I don't need to. My mom usually handles it."
"Good thing I'm here, then." She smiled, her tone light and teasing. "What do you even eat when your mom's not around?"
"Takeout," he admitted, his voice low.
Jo Yi-Su laughed, the sound filling the small kitchen. "Well, you're in luck. By the time I'm done, you'll know at least one recipe."
Despite his initial reluctance, Ki-Joo seemed to relax as the evening went on. He even cracked a small smile when Jo Yi-Su joked about his clumsy attempts to peel garlic.
By the time the food was ready, the atmosphere between them had shifted. They sat together at the small dining table, the meal warm and comforting.
"Not bad," Ki-Joo said after his first bite.
"Not bad?" Jo Yi-Su repeated, feigning offense. "That's all I get? You should be thanking me for saving you from a lifetime of bad takeout."
Ki-Joo smirked, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. "Thank you," he said, his tone sincere.
For a moment, Jo Yi-Su thought she saw something in his eyes—something softer, almost vulnerable. But it disappeared as quickly as it had come.
---
As the weeks went by, Jo Yi-Su and Ki-Joo fell into a tentative rhythm. Though he still kept his distance, he no longer shut her out completely. She continued to bring cookies to his apartment, offering a bright smile even when he claimed his mom wasn't home.
One evening, as Jo Yi-Su stood at his door with a plate of cookies, Ki-Joo opened the door and sighed. "You're persistent, aren't you?"
"Of course," she said, handing him the plate. "You could use some sweetness in your life."
He stared at her for a moment before taking the plate. "You're strange," he said, though there was no malice in his voice.
"And you're difficult," she shot back playfully.
As she turned to leave, she hesitated. "Ki-Joo," she began, glancing back at him. "Why do you keep everyone at arm's length?"
He stiffened, his expression hardening. "It's better that way," he said simply.
Jo Yi-Su frowned, but before she could press further, he closed the door.
---
Later that night, Jo Yi-Su sat by her window, her thoughts swirling. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Ki-Joo's aloofness than he let on. She wanted to understand him, to break through the walls he'd built around himself.
Across the way, she noticed his curtains were slightly open again. This time, Ki-Joo wasn't at his desk. Instead, he was sitting by the window, staring out into the night.
Without thinking, Jo Yi-Su grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a quick note: *"You don't have to do it all alone. I'm here if you ever want to talk."*
She folded the note into a paper plane and threw it across to his window. It hit the glass with a soft tap.
Ki-Joo looked up, startled, before opening the window. He unfolded the paper and read it, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Jo Yi-Su thought he might ignore it, but then he glanced at her.
"Good night, Jo Yi," he said, his voice quiet but warm.
It was the first time he'd called her by name.
As he closed the window, Jo Yi-Su smiled, her heart feeling lighter. She didn't know what lay ahead, but for now, it felt like a small victory.