Chapter 3: The Storm Within
The following morning, Jo Yi-Su awoke to the sound of rain tapping softly against her window. The skies were gray, and the usually sunny apartment complex looked washed out and dull. She wrapped herself in a blanket, enjoying the cozy atmosphere. Despite the gloom, she felt lighthearted, her mind replaying Ki-Joo's unexpected goodnight from the previous evening.
Over the past few weeks, their interactions had evolved. Ki-Joo remained reserved, but he was no longer as distant. Little by little, Jo Yi-Su felt she was chipping away at his icy exterior, though she knew there was still so much of him she didn't understand.
She poured herself a cup of tea, watching the rain as it fell steadily outside her window. Across the way, Ki-Joo's curtains were drawn tightly shut. It wasn't unusual for him to keep to himself on rainy days, but something about it felt different.
"Maybe he's busy," Jo Yi-Su muttered to herself. But as the day wore on and the rain continued, an uneasy feeling gnawed at her.
---
By late afternoon, Jo Yi-Su decided to check on him. She baked a batch of lemon muffins—something simple yet comforting—and carried them to his door. She knocked softly, waiting for his usual, brisk reply.
But this time, the door opened with a sudden jerk, revealing Ki-Joo in a disheveled state. His hair was messy, his eyes red-rimmed, and his expression tense.
"What do you want?" he asked, his voice sharp and unusually harsh.
Jo Yi-Su blinked, taken aback. "I—I brought muffins," she said, holding up the plate.
"I'm not in the mood," Ki-Joo snapped, stepping back as if to close the door.
"Wait!" Jo Yi-Su blurted out, her hand instinctively stopping the door. "Ki-Joo, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might shut her out completely. But then he sighed heavily and stepped aside, allowing her in.
The apartment was dim, the curtains drawn, and the air felt heavy. Jo Yi-Su set the plate of muffins on the counter, her concern growing. Ki-Joo sank onto the couch, rubbing his temples.
"Ki-Joo," she said softly, sitting across from him. "You don't look okay. Talk to me."
"I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction.
"No, you're not," Jo Yi-Su insisted gently. "Please, let me help. Whatever it is, you don't have to face it alone."
For a long moment, he didn't respond. His hands were clenched into fists, his knuckles white. Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and vulnerability.
"Do you ever feel like no matter what you do, it's never enough?" he asked bitterly.
Jo Yi-Su tilted her head, her expression softening. "What do you mean?"
Ki-Joo leaned back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "Everything I've done... every choice I've made... it's always been for someone else. My mother, my family. But it doesn't matter. Nothing changes."
Jo Yi-Su felt a pang in her chest. She had always sensed there was a deeper burden Ki-Joo carried, but hearing it from him was different. "Is this about your mom?" she asked carefully.
Ki-Joo laughed bitterly. "It's always about her. What she wants, who she wants me to be. I can't even..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "It doesn't matter."
Jo Yi-Su hesitated, unsure of how much to push. But then she reached out, placing a hand gently on his arm. "It does matter, Ki-Joo. You matter."
Her words seemed to catch him off guard. He looked at her, his eyes searching hers as if trying to find some hidden agenda. But all he saw was sincerity.
For the first time in hours, he let out a deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Why do you care so much?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
"Because I can see how much you're hurting," Jo Yi-Su replied. "And because I think you deserve to be happy, Ki-Joo. Even if you don't believe it yet."
Her words hung in the air, a fragile truth that neither of them had spoken before.
---
Jo Yi-Su stayed with him through the evening, keeping the conversation light when it felt like he needed a break and simply sitting in comfortable silence when words weren't necessary. She made him a cup of tea, her presence a quiet reassurance that he wasn't alone.
By the time the rain stopped, Ki-Joo's mood had softened. Though he didn't say it, Jo Yi-Su could tell he was grateful.
As she got up to leave, he walked her to the door. "Thanks," he said, his voice low but genuine.
Jo Yi-Su smiled. "Anytime, Ki-Joo. I mean it."
He watched her go, standing in the doorway until she disappeared into her apartment. For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on his chest didn't feel quite so heavy.
---
That night, as Jo Yi-Su sat by her window, she noticed that Ki-Joo's curtains were open again. He was sitting by the window, his gaze distant but calmer than before.
She grabbed a piece of paper and wrote another note: *"You're not alone, Ki-Joo. Don't forget that."*
Folding it into a paper plane, she threw it across to his window. He caught it this time, a small smile tugging at his lips as he read it.
"Good night, Jo Yi," he said softly, his voice carrying through the still night.
Jo Yi-Su smiled, feeling a warmth she couldn't quite explain. Slowly but surely, she was starting to see the real Ki-Joo—the man behind the walls—and she knew she wouldn't give up on him.