Chapter 2 - Doesn't Matter
As she climbed to the second floor, Harin's eyes darted around searching for a seat, like a lost kitten wandering the streets.
She's not a guy.
For three months, she'd thought of Haru as a man. She'd never confirmed it directly, but the nuances in their chats had suggested as much. She'd never once doubted it.
But the person ascending the stairs right now was a girl with silver hair.
The girl's gaze swept across the cafe before landing on Ian in the corner booth.
"…An?"
A clear voice tickled Ian's eardrums.
Ian raised her hand instead of answering. Beneath her mask, her lips parted halfway in awe.
The girl approached. She pulled out the chair opposite and sat, her sleeves covering half her hands. She shifted awkwardly as she settled in.
"You're An, right?"
"…Yeah."
It was barely a syllable.
The girl smiled. Tension was obvious, but she smiled anyway.
"I'm Haru. Yoo Harin. It's kinda surreal seeing you in person."
"…Harin?"
"Yeah. Haru in chat, but my real name's Harin."
Ian stared straight at Harin's face.
She was beautiful.
The fact that beautiful was her first thought threw Ian into confusion. That shouldn't have been her immediate reaction in this situation.
"An? You okay?"
Harin tilted her head slightly, concern in her eyes.
"Yeah, sorry. Just startled."
"I get it. You thought I was a guy."
Harin scratched her head, looking embarrassed.
"I never said my gender outright, but the vibe was there, right? Sorry for misleading you."
"No, it's…"
Ian cut herself off. Her mouth was parched. She took a sip of her iced Americano. The watered-down taste from melted ice hit her tongue.
I have to tell her too.
She was shocked Harin was a girl, sure—but Ian had her own secret. That was the reason she'd suggested meeting today.
Ian removed her mask.
She took off her hat.
Her black hair cascaded down, and in the soft afternoon light, her face came into view.
Harin didn't recognize her. Thank god, Ian thought.
"You probably guessed… I'm a girl too."
Harin's eyes widened.
"I wrote that I was a guy in the chat room. That was a lie."
Ian kept her eyes fixed on the Americano on the table as she continued.
"If I say I'm a girl upfront, no one chats purely. Everyone's motives are obvious. I hated that, so I pretended to be a guy."
Under the table, her hand clenched the fabric of her skirt.
"Sorry for lying for three months."
Her voice trembled.
Harin spoke.
"It's okay."
Ian's gaze lifted.
Harin was smiling. Her eyes narrowed, the corners of her mouth curving up naturally.
"Guy or girl, you're still a good person to me."
"…"
"You're the one who talked to me every night for three months. What does gender matter?"
Her voice was calm, unwavering.
"I'm grateful you had the guts to meet and tell me in person."
Ian couldn't reply. Her throat was tight.
Harin slid the water glass across the table toward her.
"Drink some water."
Ian picked it up. The surface rippled. She took a sip, set it down, and sat in silence for a long while.
Harin didn't rush her. She didn't pour out excessive comfort. She just sat there quietly, giving Ian time to compose herself.
"…You're something else."
Ian sniffled and spoke.
"You're really not mad?"
"About what?"
"Lying. Pretending to be a guy."
Harin shook her head.
"Not mad. You had a reason. I'd probably do the same."
Harin gave a light laugh.
"You pretended to be a guy because you wanted pure chats. That's not bad intent. Why get mad?"
"…Thanks."
"I should be saying that. Thanks for listening to me for three months."
"Me too."
"Then we're both grateful."
Harin smiled and mimed a toast with her water glass.
The plastic cups clinked lightly. The awkward, silly sound made Ian burst out laughing without realizing.
Once emotions settled, conversation flowed back to familiar ground.
"Hey, did you see the latest event story?"
"Of course. I cried at chapter 3's ending."
"Me too!!! That line, 'I could get this far because of you'…"
"Oh! That one. I took twelve screenshots of that scene."
Ian's eyes sparkled. Without hat or mask, her face as she gushed about the game story was worlds apart from her poised TV image.
Her hands gestured in the air, her voice pitched up an octave, her torso leaning forward for favorite scenes.
Harin was the same. Her hands emerged from her sleeves to mimic character moves.
"But did you see the chapter 4 teaser? New character silhouette."
"Saw it. Doesn't it scream dual-wield from the outline?"
"Right?! That's what I thought, but forums say mage more."
"Nah, that's a melee stance. Weight's forward."
"Exactly. Your eyes are spot on, Ian."
Harin gave a thumbs up. Ian glanced at her fingertip, then quickly looked away.
"…Y-yeah?"
"Yeah. You're killer at analysis. Your takes in chat were always the most accurate."
"That's an exaggeration."
"Not at all."
Harin said it seriously.
"For real. I'd screenshot your character analyses every time."
Ian's hand froze on her cup.
"…Screenshots?"
"Yeah. To reread later."
Ian chugged her iced Americano. When she slammed it down, only ice remained.
I thought I was the only one saving stuff. She saved my messages too?
Her heart raced. No time to question why.
"Want another drink?"
"No, it's fi—"
Harin was already standing. She glanced back from the counter. "What do you want?"
"Strawberry latte…"
While Harin ordered, Ian watched her back.
She was smiling at the barista, same soft smile she gave Ian. The barista asked something; Harin nodded.
…She's smiling at her too.
It was nothing. Smiling at cafe staff was normal. Yet something scratched at Ian's chest.
Harin returned with the strawberry latte and a small cookie on the tray.
"Barista said it pairs well."
"…Thanks."
Ian nibbled the cookie, trying to erase the image of Harin smiling at the barista.
It wouldn't fade.
Leaving the cafe, June sunlight poured down.
Ian squinted. No sunglasses—she'd forgotten amid four outfit changes that morning.
Harin pulled a folding parasol from her bag.
She tilted it toward Ian.
"Sun's brutal. Hurts your eyes?"
More shade on Ian's side.
She casually shifted toward the road, nudging Ian to the safer inner sidewalk. Wordless, natural.
Under the parasol, Ian looked up at Harin's profile.
Where'd she learn this?
"Ian, which way?"
"Station."
"Oh, opposite. I'm headed to the terminal."
Harin said it matter-of-factly.
"Then here we…"
"Mind if I walk with?"
"…Together?"
"To the terminal. Call it a stroll."
Harin looked at her, then nodded.
"Yeah. Let's."
They walked side by side. Parasol still tilted Ian's way.
Talk never stopped: game patches, new anime, games to try together.
"Harin, tried that new release?"
"Wanted to, haven't yet. Fun?"
"Insanely. Story's wild."
"Downloading then. Let's play together."
"For real?!"
Ian's voice rose. She grabbed Harin's arm without thinking.
Harin looked startled.
Ian let go fast.
"S-sorry."
"Nah, it's fine. You're more bubbly in person than I thought."
"…I was bubbly in chat too."
"True."
Harin laughed.
"But seeing you live is different. Your words, expressions—all there. Not just text."
The words caught in Ian's ear.
She wanted to see my face.
Maybe not. Probably just an observation.
But Ian's mind had already twisted it favorably.
Terminal entrance.
Harin folded her parasol and stopped.
"I'll head up here. Today was great, Ian."
"…Me too."
"See you again."
Harin waved lightly and turned.
"Yeah. See you."
"…Yeah. Obviously."
"Often."
"Yeah. Often."
Harin smiled.
She rode the escalator up.
Ian stood rooted.
She raised her right hand—the one that grabbed Harin's arm.
The feel lingered.
Heading back to the station.
Ian walked, sorting thoughts. They wouldn't sort. Emotions rebelled.
Haru was a girl.
My heart still raced.
From the first sight in the cafe, I thought she was pretty.
She walked.
Didn't want to let go of her arm.
She stopped.
Crosswalk. Red light.
This isn't friendship.
If three months of feelings were just friendship, she wouldn't time replies. Wouldn't screenshot chats. Wouldn't snoop other rooms.
She'd known it wasn't friendship for a while.
Just, assuming he was a guy meant no need to name it.
So what.
Light changed.
"Guy or girl, you're still a good person to me."
Harin's words exactly.
My feelings for Harin don't change, guy or girl.
Same gender? Even better.
Ian's steps slowed.
If a guy, he could've dated other girls. Drifted from me. But she's a girl.
Ian pulled out her phone, opened notes.
Renamed "Haru" to "Harin."
Added today's finds below: silver hair. Left dimple. Tilting parasol habit. Road-side positioning. Arm's feel.
One more line at end.
Same girl. Doesn't matter.
Closed notes, opened KakaoTalk.
Ian stopped walking as she read the message.
Ian.
Worlds heavier than text "An."
Harin's clear voice replayed in her head.
Phone at chest height, she stood in Seoul's afternoon streets.
I like Harin. Of course.
Ian chuckled softly. Her reflection in the screen wore a smile more natural than any practiced since child actress days.
Can't wait.
Screenshot.
Renamed "Haru" album to "Harin," saved.
Ian pocketed her phone and walked on.
Next time, somewhere just for us.
Her steps were light.
Once home, she'd check Harin's Discord logins, scan her chat rooms' today's posts, peek for profile updates.
All routine.
The only change: no more excuses for it.
Her phone buzzed again.
Not from Harin.
'Siyul unnie'
"…Reply later."
Ian pocketed it.