The air felt colder now, thickening around us as if even the gallery itself recognized the gravity of this moment.
I hadn't seen Jao in years - never this close, never without a screen, a rumor, or a storm between us.
His gaze traveled over me again, slower this time, not like a rival assessing an opponent...
But like someone trying to confirm I was real.
I folded my arms lightly, keeping my expression unreadable.
"You've changed," he said finally, his voice dipping into something that wasn't quite admiration... but wasn't hatred either.
"So have you," I replied, stepping closer. "But change doesn't erase the past."
His lips twitched - a ghost of a smile or a bitter curse, I couldn't tell.
"No," he murmured. "It doesn't."
He took a step toward me. Then another.
I didn't move.
"Ajin..." he said softly, and my heart stuttered, because he said my name the same way he used to -
with frustration,
with longing,
with a sharpness that felt like a blade and a bandage at the same time.
I exhaled slowly.
"You didn't come here just to look at paintings, Jao."
He let out a humorless laugh.
"Of course I didn't. You know me too well."
"You always hated galleries," I reminded him. "Too quiet for someone who thrives in chaos."
He tilted his head. "Maybe I was hoping to find the cause of my chaos."
My breath caught.
"Is that what you call me now?" I asked. "A cause?"
He stared at me, the tension in his jaw tight enough to crack.
"You were an earthquake in the shape of a person," he said finally.
"Every time I thought I understood you... you shifted."
A pause.
Then quieter:
"And I never stopped trying to predict your next move."
My pulse rose - not from fear, but from memory.
"You made your own choices," I whispered.
"You chose revenge. You chose to paint me as the villain. You chose to chase ghosts of the past instead of moving forward."
"And you chose lies!" he snapped, the old anger igniting for a moment.
"You manipulated everyone. You hid everything. You-"
"I was trying to survive," I cut in sharply.
"Do you think I enjoyed living like that? Making decisions that destroyed me as much as anyone else?"
He froze.
For the first time, I saw something flicker across his face - not rage, but hurt.
Raw. Human. Unfiltered.
"You didn't trust me," he said quietly. "Not even once."
Something twisted deep in my chest.
My voice softened, almost against my will.
"Back then, Jao... I didn't trust anyone.
Not even myself."
His expression shifted again.
Softened.
Cracked.
And suddenly, the man standing in front of me wasn't the enemy who sought to destroy me.
He was the boy I once stood beside in dusty hallways, trading secrets under flickering lights.
The friend who knew what it meant to claw upward from nothing.
The man who had walked away not because he stopped caring...
but because caring hurt too much.
He took a breath, voice trembling just slightly - the kind of tremble only someone who once loved could reveal.
"We became monsters to survive our world," he said.
"But tell me the truth, Ajin... just once..."
He swallowed, eyes piercing into mine.
"Do you ever regret what we became?"
My throat tightened.
I wanted to say yes.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to scream I regret everything except us.
But Mina's face flashed in my mind.
Her laughter.
Her innocence.
Her need for safety.
I exhaled shakily.
"I regret that we ended the way we did," I said quietly.
"But I don't regret surviving."
He stepped even closer - close enough to feel his breath brush my cheek.
"And what about us?" he asked.
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"Do you regret us?"
I looked up at him, every emotion battling inside me - longing, pain, resentment, memories that refused to die.
Then I said the only truth I could afford to give:
"Some things... I can't allow myself to regret."
He froze.
And for the first time in years...
Jao looked heartbroken.
Jao's expression fractured.
Not violently, not with the anger he was famous for -
but quietly.
Devastatingly.
His eyes searched mine, trying to read the words I didn't say, the ones I refused to give him.
The truth he could sense but not grasp.
He took a shaky breath, the kind he hated anyone witnessing.
"Some things you can't regret?"
His voice was dangerous in its softness.
"Ajin... what things? What does that even mean?"
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
So I stepped back.
It was barely half a step - but the effect was immediate.
Jao's face hardened, that momentary vulnerability vanishing beneath the colder, older version of him.
The one the world feared.
The one I helped create.
"You're still running," he said, voice low.
"Even now."
"I'm protecting what matters," I countered.
He narrowed his eyes. "Protecting what, Ajin? Yourself? Your pride? Your lies?"
My heart thudded painfully.
"No. Something far more important."
His brows knit.
Confusion flickered.
Suspicion.
Then something else - something sharper.
"Important?" he echoed.
"To you?"
"Yes."
"More important than us?"
The words hit with the force of a blow.
I swallowed, trying to hold myself together.
Trying not to picture Mina's tiny hands clutching my shirt.
The way she whispered, "Mommy, are you smiling?"
The way she breathed beside me at night, peaceful because she trusted me to keep her safe.
"Yes," I whispered.
Jao stared at me as if I had just split his world in half.
A cold smile cut across his face.
"So that's it," he said.
"You didn't come back stronger... you came back with secrets."
He stepped closer again - not with anger this time, but with terrifying precision.
"I know you, Ajin. You always hide the truth behind something bigger. A plan. A mask."
He leaned in, voice barely audible.
"Tell me... what are you hiding now?"
My breath caught.
I forced my expression still.
Emotionless.
Indifferent.
"A life that doesn't concern you anymore."
His jaw tightened.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
The space between us filled with tension so thick it felt like the walls were holding their breath.
Then the twist began.
Jao's hand slipped briefly into his coat pocket-
then paused.
When his fingers emerged, they held a folded piece of paper.
My stomach dropped.
A cold spike of dread rippled through me.
"What's that?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.
He opened it slowly, deliberately, eyes locked on mine.
"You're not the only one who can gather information," he said quietly.
"I've been digging."
A chill spread down my arms.
"Digging into what?"
He unfolded the paper.
"Into the reason why someone like you-
someone who burned every bridge,
cut ties without hesitation,
betrayed allies and enemies alike-
would suddenly disappear for years."
My pulse hammered.
"And I found something," he continued, eyes darkening.
"Something that didn't add up."
My throat tightened.
"Jao-"
He lifted the paper.
And my world tilted.
Because there - in his hands -
was a photo.
A blurred, distant shot.
A woman holding a little girl's hand.
A little girl with unmistakable features.
Roaming near a quiet daycare.
Laughing.
Alive.
My daughter.
Mina.
My breath shattered.
Jao's voice was barely above a whisper now -
a whisper filled with betrayal, shock, and something dangerously close to heartbreak.
"Ajin..."
His eyes bored into me.
"You have a child?"
My entire body went still.
"And you hid her from everyone?"
His voice trembled - with anger, with hurt, with disbelief.
"From the world?"
He stepped closer, his next words cutting deeper than any revenge he had ever planned.
"You hid her from me?"
The room spun.
My vision blurred.
My heart pounded against my ribs like it wanted to break free.
"Jao-" I whispered, voice cracking.
"It's not what you think."
His expression twisted.
"Then tell me exactly what I'm thinking," he said, voice shaking.
"Tell me why there's a child out there who looks more like me... than anyone else."
The world stopped.
My lips parted-
But no words came.
Not yet.
Not with the storm in front of me.
The words left Ajin's mouth soft, almost careless...
But her eyes betrayed her.
They didn't look at Jun-seo like someone meeting an old friend.
They looked at him like someone meeting a buried wound.
And Jun-seo felt every bit of it.
The old warehouse was still humming with the echo of the earlier chaos-Jao's men groaning, metal pipes scattered, dust drifting. But between them, it was silent, like the world refused to breathe.
Jun-seo finally answered, voice low, hoarse from everything he'd held down for years.
"Long? ...Yeah."
He studied her face.
"Three years feels like a lifetime when the one who left never explained why."
Ajin's jaw tightened-barely-but he caught it.
She hid her hands behind her coat sleeves so he wouldn't see they were trembling.
Jun-seo took a small step closer, slow, cautious, like she was something fragile but dangerous.
"You look the same."
His gaze softened unwillingly.
"Still the same Ajin who never lets anyone get close... but somehow always gets into trouble."
A faint smirk tugged at her lips.
"You haven't changed either."
Her tone was light, but her eyes avoided his.
"Still showing up everywhere you're not supposed to."
He ignored the joke.
His voice lowered.
"Why were they after you?"
Ajin lifted her chin.
That arrogant, fearless, stubborn expression he used to fight with and fall asleep beside.
"Because I deserve it."
He froze.
Before he could answer, she added lightly-too lightly-
"I manipulated them. Lied. Used them. I got what was coming."
Jun-seo stepped closer again, face tightening.
"Stop pretending you're fine."
His voice sharpened.
"You were outnumbered. They weren't trying to scare you, Ajin-"
He hesitated, the truth hitting him.
"...they were trying to kill you."
Ajin didn't answer.
Her breathing was steady, but her eyes glimmered with something far too close to exhaustion.
Finally, she gave a short laugh-dry, brittle.
"So what? It's not like it'd change anything."
Jun-seo's chest tightened.
Because that tone-
he knew it.
He hated it.
He reached out instinctively-
and she flinched.
Not from fear.
From reflex.
But she hated that he saw it.
He lowered his hand slowly, carefully.
"Ajin."
He whispered her name like a warning, like a prayer, like a memory.
"What happened to you?"
And for a second-
for the first time since they re-met-
her mask cracked.
Her eyes lifted to his, and they weren't cold.
They were tired.
Lonely.
Bleeding with all the things she refused to say.
A fragile, bitter smile touched her lips.
"Everything."
Jun-seo's heart clenched so tightly he almost reached for her again.
But then-
she stepped back.
Just one step.
Enough to remind him she still had walls.
Enough to remind them both:
They weren't the same people anymore.
But their bodies still remembered.
Their hearts still reacted.
Their past still pulsed between them like a bruise.
Jun-seo swallowed hard.
"We need to talk."
Ajin looked away.
"Talking never saved us before."
He took a quiet breath, stepping into her line of vision.
"But maybe this time... it will."
Ajin's lips parted-
to argue, deny, run-
But behind them, Jao's men stirred, groaning as they began to regain consciousness.
The moment shattered.
Ajin's eyes flicked to Jun-seo's scarred knuckles.
"You shouldn't have come."
Jun-seo met her gaze, unwavering.
"I'm not leaving."
Ajin froze.
Because she understood exactly what he meant.
Not leaving tonight.
Not leaving this room.
Not leaving her.
Not again.