The afternoon sun had already turned orange when Sung-Min pushed open the door of Jade Leaf. The place was smaller than he'd imagined: four dark wooden tables, shelves lined with jars of loose tea, a display case of matcha pastries, and a scent so clean it almost hurt to breathe it in. Very soft koto music, barely audible.
Eun-Ha was at the back table by the window. She wore an oversized beige sweater that slipped off one shoulder, her hair pulled into a loose, low ponytail. In front of her sat a white ceramic teapot and a half-drunk cup. She gazed out at the street with an absent expression, as if waiting for something she already knew wouldn't happen.
Sung-Min hesitated for two seconds at the entrance. Then he walked straight toward her.
"Can I?" he asked, nodding at the empty chair.
Eun-Ha looked up. First surprise. Then a small, almost shy smile.
"Sung-Min… you actually came?"
"You said it was a good place to unwind after your classes," he shrugged as he sat down. "And today I really need to unwind."
She let out a short laugh, more breath than sound.
"Did I leave you that wrecked yesterday?"
"Worse," he said with half a smile. "I think I still have soreness in places I didn't know existed."
Eun-Ha shook her head, amused, and pushed the teapot toward him.
"Here. Freshly brewed. First-harvest Gyokuro. If you don't like strong green tea, you're going to hate this."
Sung-Min poured himself a little. The liquid was an almost fluorescent green. He took a cautious sip. Bitter. Vegetal. Clean to the point of aggression. He grimaced.
"Fuck. This is like drinking freshly cut grass."
Eun-Ha actually laughed this time, covering her mouth with her fingers.
"I warned you."
They fell silent for a moment. A comfortable one, not awkward. Just the koto and distant traffic.
Sung-Min turned the cup between his fingers.
"And you? Why are you here alone today instead of at the studio or home?"
Eun-Ha stared at her own cup as if the answer were floating in the liquid.
"Joon-Hyuk gets back tomorrow night. I wanted… I don't know. A full day to myself before the noise comes back."
"Noise?"
She lifted her gaze. Her eyes were very dark, almost black.
"He's… intense. Always talking about projects, investments, contacts. When he's home, the house stops feeling like a home. It turns into an extension of his schedule."
Sung-Min said nothing. Just nodded slowly.
Eun-Ha sighed and rested her chin in her hand.
"Sounds awful when I say it out loud, doesn't it?"
"No," he replied calmly. "Sounds exhausting."
She looked at him a second longer than normal. Then turned her eyes back to the window.
"You're strange, Sung-Min."
"Strange good or strange bad?"
"Strange… unsettling," she said, and for the first time she sounded vulnerable. "Most new students just want to flirt or show off how flexible they are. You… I don't know. You listen."
He shrugged again, but this time the gesture was softer.
"Maybe because I don't have anything to show off."
Eun-Ha smiled sideways.
"You're a terrible liar."
They stayed quiet a while longer. The tea cooled between them.
Finally she spoke, almost in a whisper.
"Sometimes I think I'm forgetting what it feels like to be alone without feeling lonely. Does that make sense?"
Sung-Min set his cup down carefully.
"A lot of sense."
Another silence.
Then she leaned forward a little.
"Why did you really come today?"
He held her gaze without blinking.
"Because yesterday you held eye contact a second longer than necessary when you corrected my posture. And because you said you'd be here. And because I wanted to see you smile like that again."
Eun-Ha blinked. Color rose to her cheeks, but she didn't look away.
"You're dangerous," she murmured.
"Only when someone lets me be," he answered in the same quiet tone.
She exhaled slowly.
"I'm not… I'm not looking for anything complicated."
"I'm not asking for anything complicated," Sung-Min said. "I'm just here. If you want me to leave, I'll go."
Eun-Ha stayed silent for almost ten seconds. Then she pushed the teapot toward him again.
"Finish the tea. It's better when it cools a bit."
He smiled sideways.
"Liar. It still tastes like grass."
She let out a soft laugh.
"Drink it anyway. It's good for you."
They stayed another twenty minutes. They talked about small things: the music she played in the studio when there were no students, the spicy ramen Sung-Min ate when he studied until three in the morning, Joon-Hyuk's habit of organizing the pantry by color.
Neither of them mentioned the word "fiancé" again.
When Eun-Ha glanced at the clock and said she had to go, she stood up reluctantly.
"Tuesday at four, right?"
"I'll be there," he said. "Even if you kill me with another Warrior III session."
She smiled—this time for real.
"I hate you a little for making me laugh today."
"Then I hate you a little back," he replied.
Eun-Ha put on her jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder, and paused at the door.
"Sung-Min."
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for the tea."
He raised his half-finished cup.
"Thanks for not kicking me out."
She left.
Sung-Min stared at the closed door for a long while. The tea was completely cold now. Bitter. Perfect.
He pulled out his phone and opened the chat with Ji-Yeon.
"Tonight still on?"
The reply came in under ten seconds.
"Tae-Ho went out for beers with the gym guys. Come whenever. Bring your appetite."
Sung-Min closed his eyes for a second. Took a deep breath.
And typed:
"I'll be there in an hour."
He pocketed the phone. Downed the rest of the tea in one gulp.
And stepped out onto the street feeling the air weigh just a little more than when he'd walked in.
The house of cards was still standing.
But now you could hear the creaking.