I'll Tell You My Number Too
The most familiar sight since my return to fourteen years ago unfolded right before my eyes.
Brown hair that would sway and ripple at the slightest breeze, eyes so deep brown they seemed to accentuate that very hair, and skin still as youthfully smooth as it had always been.
Shin Yujin.
Shin Yujin was standing right in front of me. In the form of her twenty-year-old college self, no less.
“Hey, Han Yuchan.”
“…Huh?”
“What are you doing? Greet her.”
“Ah, right. Um, hello. I’m Han Yuchan.”
After offering a light greeting, I studied her quietly. She was already chatting away with Kim Yerim beside her, completely at ease.
Could Shin Yujin have returned fourteen years too, just like me?
The question had barely formed when our eyes met.
She gave a small, wordless nod in acknowledgment, and the moment ended there.
Judging by that reaction alone, it didn’t seem as if Shin Yujin had come back the way I had. Which meant she was simply a twenty-year-old college student with no memories of the future.
Her appearance tangled my thoughts even further. Even though I knew this was how things were supposed to unfold, part of me desperately wanted to reject the entire flow.
“Standing around here feels weird. Should we grab coffee or something?”
“Yes!! Yujin, you’re okay with that, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Yuchan, let’s go.”
“Ah… sure.”
On the walk to the café, Hojin kept up an effortless conversation with Kim Yerim. Shin Yujin chimed in here and there, adding to Yerim’s remarks. Meanwhile I walked along the sidewalk without managing to insert a single word.
My head felt so overloaded it might burst. The headache was sharper than anything I’d felt tackling the most complicated work projects back in my corporate days.
Shin Yujin looked exactly as she had the day we first met.
Quiet, preferring to respond to the conversation around her rather than lead it. That same version of her.
So only I came back fourteen years?
When we reached the café we claimed a table. Naturally I sat beside Hojin while Shin Yujin sat beside Kim Yerim.
The problem was that Shin Yujin and I ended up facing each other directly.
To her, I was a stranger she was seeing for the first time. Yet here I was, radiating discomfort. She must have been incredibly flustered.
“Hojin, this isn’t our first time meeting, right? Would it be okay if I called you Oppa?”
“What?! O-of course. Call me whatever you want.”
“Then you should speak casually to me too, Oppa.”
“Sure? All right, Yerim.”
Hojin’s mouth was practically split in a permanent grin as he kept talking with Kim Yerim.
Watching them brought back memories of fourteen years ago. Back then, Hojin and Yerim had grown comfortable exactly like this, and only afterward had Yujin and I started speaking to each other.
Shin Yujin simply listened to the pair’s conversation.
It felt awkward to be the first to speak to this version of her—so different from the Yujin I knew well—but since Hojin had created the opening, I didn’t want to kill the mood.
Very carefully, I offered a single sentence.
“You’re twenty, right, Yujin?”
“Hm? Ah, yes. I’m twenty.”
“Entering the English Education department—you must really like English.”
“I do. I’ve liked it since middle school.”
Compared to the lively exchange between Hojin and Yerim, the conversation between Shin Yujin and me was painfully stiff.
I was certain the twenty-three-year-old me hadn’t been like this. But the current me was thirty-seven-year-old Han Yuchan; I couldn’t recall how I’d acted at all. The only thing I remembered was that I’d been fairly outgoing. I must have loosened atmospheres like this easily and made them fun.
“Is your hair naturally brown?”
“Yes, it is. Teachers used to ask me every day if I’d dyed it during school.”
“That must have been exhausting.”
I already knew the answer. Her mother had the same natural brown hair, and Yujin had inherited the trait. Her eyes, too, matched her mother’s warm brown.
“Let’s go order the coffee now.”
“Ah, yeah. Yuchan and I can—”
“Would you like to go together?”
I had been about to head up with Yuchan when Shin Yujin’s voice cut in.
The moment I heard it, a memory resurfaced.
Today—the day we first met.
While the four of us talked, the instant Yuchan and I moved to order drinks, Shin Yujin had spoken up, saying she wanted to go with me.
The scene was unfolding in exactly the same order. That was when I became convinced she held no memories of the future.
Shin Yujin and I walked to the counter and studied the menu.
“What will you have, Yuchan?”
“I’ll take an Americano.”
“Hmm, I’ll have…”
“A cappuccino.”
“Wait, how did you know I like cappuccinos? You guessed it exactly.”
“Uh… I just had a feeling. Haha.”
Instinct had made me blurt out her favorite. She used to order nothing but cappuccino whenever we went to cafés.
We placed the drinks Hojin and Yerim had requested, then sat nearby to wait. The silence between us felt unbearably awkward.
“You’re in computer engineering, right, Yuchan?”
“Yes, that’s right. Ah, you can speak casually to me.”
“I’m just not used to talking down to people older than me.”
“I see.”
“Still, please speak comfortably with me. You are older, after all.”
“R-really? Then I will… Yujin.”
Even after sharing countless identical moments, saying only her first name without any title felt strangely foreign. At some point we had stopped using just names; we’d added surnames or simply called each other “Hey.” Looking back now, it was hard to believe we had ever been husband and wife.
After a short exchange we collected our drinks and returned to the table. While we were gone, Hojin and Yerim had grown completely comfortable with each other.
“So that’s what Oppa said back then.”
“Yeah, I did. You only saw me for a second, but you remembered?”
“Of course. How could I forget when you stood out that much?”
“We brought the coffees.”
“Ah, thank you. I’ll enjoy them.”
Recalling the revived memory, I remembered that the four of us had split naturally—each pair talking among themselves. When it came time to part with Shin Yujin, we had exchanged numbers.
But that had only been possible because I had led the conversation and eased the mood. Doing the same now seemed impossible.
Still, simply letting things drift like this felt wrong, so I asked carefully.
“What are your hobbies, Yujin?”
“Me? I like…”
Reading novels and watching movies.
“Reading novels and watching movies.”
She preferred English-language novels and watching films without subtitles.
“I love English so much that I enjoy original English novels and prefer watching movies without subtitles.”
“That’s impressive. Even English majors usually find that tough.”
She had lived in the United States until middle school, so English felt more natural to her.
“I lived in the States until middle school, so English just feels more comfortable and familiar.”
“Really? Why were you living there?”
Because of her father’s business, they had moved when she was in first grade.
“My dad’s work took us there starting from first grade of elementary school.”
“That’s fascinating. If I run into any English I don’t understand later, can I ask you?”
“Sure, that’s fine. Here, I’ll give you my number so it’s easier to reach me.”
Everything had been proceeding exactly as I remembered—until this moment, when it suddenly diverged.
In the original timeline she hadn’t volunteered her number; I had asked for it right before we parted after hanging out. But the past didn’t have to follow my memories perfectly just because I had returned.
I could accept a change this small.
“Thanks. I’ll give you mine too.”
We exchanged numbers, our eyes meeting again. She still seemed to be watching me with open curiosity.
Even though we sat at the same table, the atmosphere had split completely, as if Hojin and I existed in entirely separate spaces. I remembered that soon we would leave the café and spend time alone together.
“Shall we head out now?”
At Hojin’s suggestion we began gathering our things. That was when my gaze caught on Shin Yujin’s hand.
Right before standing, she pressed her thumb firmly against her index finger.
It made no sound, yet she repeated the motion as if trying to produce one.
As far as I remembered, that particular gesture of hers…
It had started in the early days of our marriage, after her index finger fracture had completely healed. She had found the cracking sound fascinating and kept repeating it until it became a habit.
Wait a second.
The Shin Yujin sitting across from me right now shouldn’t have that habit.