Things finally started to feel calm again.
The chaos, the rumors, the late nights—it all began to fade into the background.
For the first time in months, I could breathe.
But peace never meant stillness.
It just meant I could finally look around and see what I'd been missing.
UniTrade was thriving.
More students were joining every week, and universities around Seoul started reaching out for partnerships.
We had offices now—actual offices, not just a dorm desk with empty ramen cups.
Min-jun handled most of the coding.
Nova quietly took care of logistics.
And me? I started learning what it meant to lead, not just build.
[You're getting better at delegation, Rin,] Nova said one morning.
[Progress noted.]
"Yeah, I'm learning," I said, tying my shoes. "Apparently I don't have to do everything myself."
[That's what humans call 'growth.']
I laughed. "You've been hanging around Soo-ah too much."
[Can't deny she's a good influence.]
Speaking of Soo-ah—
We'd been spending more time together.
Lunch breaks, evening walks, coffee after class.
It wasn't loud or dramatic; it was easy.
Natural.
Sometimes we'd just sit in silence on a park bench near the Han River, her sketchbook open, me scrolling through my laptop as Nova muttered updates in the background.
It felt… normal.
Something I hadn't realized I missed.
One evening, as the sun dipped behind the buildings, Soo-ah looked up from her sketchbook.
"Do you ever get tired of it?"
"Of what?"
"All of this," she said, waving her pencil toward the city skyline. "The business. The attention. The pressure."
I thought about it for a moment.
"Yeah," I said honestly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm living ten lives at once."
She smiled softly. "You don't have to be superhuman all the time."
"Funny," I said with a grin. "You're one of the few people who thinks I'm not."
"I don't think you're not," she said quietly. "I just think you deserve to be human too."
The words sank deep, quiet and heavy.
For once, I didn't have a clever reply.
[Your heart rate just spiked, Rin,] Nova teased.
[You okay there?]
"Not helping," I muttered under my breath.
Soo-ah tilted her head. "Hmm?"
"Nothing," I said quickly. "Just talking to myself."
She laughed—a soft, genuine laugh that made everything else fade away for a second.
Later that night, I walked her back to her dorm.
The streetlights cast a soft glow on the wet pavement, and the air smelled faintly of coffee and rain.
When we reached her door, she turned to me.
"Thanks for walking me home."
"Anytime."
She hesitated, then added, "You know, you're kind of bad at taking breaks."
"Am I?"
"Yeah," she said with a small smile. "So next weekend, no business talk. Just… be Rin."
I chuckled. "Just Rin, huh? I'll try to remember how."
She smiled again before disappearing inside.
As I walked back to my place, Nova's voice echoed softly in my head.
[She's grounding you.]
"I know."
[You needed that.]
"Yeah," I said quietly, looking up at the Seoul skyline. "I really did."
That night, I fell asleep without checking my messages.
No late-night coding, no system screens—just silence.
And for the first time in a long time, it felt like enough.