Chapter 5: Shifting Tides
The days after Jo Yi-Su's conversation with Su-Mi were heavy with thought. She couldn't stop replaying their words, the hidden pain in Su-Mi's voice, and the stark realization of Ki-Joo's burdens. It wasn't just his father's absence or his mother's expectations that shaped him—it was the unresolved wounds that continued to fester in his heart.
Jo Yi-Su wanted to help him, to reach him, but how could she when Ki-Joo himself didn't seem to know how to let anyone in?
The following morning, Jo Yi-Su was startled by a knock at her door. She wasn't expecting anyone. When she opened it, she found Ki-Joo standing there, his expression unreadable.
"Ki-Joo?" she said, surprised. "Is everything okay?"
He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair. "Can I come in?"
"Of course," she replied, stepping aside.
As he entered, she noticed he seemed tense, as though something was weighing on his mind. He glanced around the apartment, his eyes landing briefly on her desk where a notebook and a few pens were scattered.
"Are you busy?" he asked, his voice unusually quiet.
"Not at all," she said. "What's on your mind?"
Ki-Joo hesitated, his gaze flickering to the window before finally settling on her. "I just... wanted to thank you. For the other day. For not pushing me too hard when I wasn't in a good place."
Jo Yi-Su smiled warmly. "You don't need to thank me, Ki-Joo. I'm happy to be there for you, whenever you need."
He nodded, but there was a heaviness in his posture that told her he hadn't come just to thank her.
"Is something bothering you?" she asked gently.
He sighed, sinking onto her couch. "I've been thinking about my mother," he admitted. "And my father."
Jo Yi-Su sat across from him, her expression encouraging. She didn't want to push, but she also wanted him to know she was ready to listen.
"My mother," he began, his voice low, "she's not a bad person. I know she's only ever wanted the best for me. But sometimes it feels like she doesn't see me—like she's so focused on what she thinks is best that she doesn't stop to ask what I want."
Jo Yi-Su nodded, her heart aching for him. "Have you ever told her how you feel?"
Ki-Joo let out a bitter laugh. "No. And even if I did, what would it change? My mother... she's been holding this family together since my father left. She's sacrificed so much for me, for the business. How can I tell her I don't want the life she's spent years building for me?"
Jo Yi-Su's chest tightened at his words. "But Ki-Joo, you deserve to live your own life. Your happiness matters too."
He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for something—understanding, maybe, or reassurance. "It's not that simple," he said. "My father... he left because he couldn't handle the pressure of being tied down. He wanted freedom, and when he didn't get it, he walked away. My mother always feared I'd turn out like him. That's why she tries so hard to keep me close, to control everything. She's afraid I'll leave too."
Jo Yi-Su felt a lump form in her throat. "But you're not your father, Ki-Joo," she said softly. "You're your own person. And just because you want something different doesn't mean you'll abandon her."
Ki-Joo didn't respond right away. He stared at the floor, his hands clasped tightly in his lap. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sometimes, I don't know who I am without her expectations. Without the weight of the business. It's all I've ever known."
Jo Yi-Su leaned forward, her voice firm yet gentle. "You're Ki-Joo. A kind, thoughtful, and talented man. Someone who's capable of so much more than what's been put on his shoulders. But you'll never know what you truly want until you give yourself the chance to find out."
Her words seemed to hit him deeply. He looked up at her, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Why do you care so much?" he asked, echoing the question he'd asked her before.
"Because I see you," Jo Yi-Su replied simply. "The real you, not just the person you try to be for everyone else. And I believe in you, Ki-Joo. Even if you don't believe in yourself yet."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room was filled with a quiet intensity, the weight of their conversation hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Ki-Joo nodded.
"Thank you," he said softly.
Later that day, Ki-Joo returned to his apartment, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Jo Yi-Su's words had struck a chord within him, awakening something he hadn't felt in years—a longing for freedom, for self-discovery.
But with that longing came fear. Fear of disappointing his mother, of failing the legacy his father had left behind. Fear of losing the one person who had always been there for him, even in her own flawed way.
He sat by his window, staring out at the world beyond. Across the way, he saw Jo Yi-Su's silhouette as she moved about her apartment, her presence a quiet comfort.
For the first time in a long time, Ki-Joo allowed himself to hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to reconcile the past and embrace the future.
Meanwhile, Jo Yi-Su sat at her desk, scribbling notes in her journal. She was determined to help Ki-Joo, not by fixing him, but by showing him that he could be whole on his own. She didn't know what the future held for them, but she knew one thing for sure—she wasn't going to give up on him.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the apartment complex, both Ki-Joo and Jo Yi-Su felt the first stirrings of change. The tides were shifting, and though the journey ahead would be difficult, they were ready to face it together.