#72 Chapter 18. Home Visit (1)
How did she know from just a single “Hello?” that I was feeling unsettled?
It had been nearly a month and a half since our last call, with no contact in between. What could have prompted her to ring me out of the blue?
Before I could even ask, another question popped into my head.
“Isn’t it the middle of the night there?”
New York and Seoul were thirteen hours apart—Korea ahead. If it was evening here, it had to be around four or five in the morning for her. Not exactly a normal time to be awake.
We’d spent over twenty years without a single fight, only to erupt into our first screaming match the day before she left for her studies abroad. No apology, just pretending everything was fine on the surface while exchanging barely a handful of messages over the past year-plus. In a relationship like that, calling out of nowhere... well, it didn’t seem right to me, at least.
But Se-ra replied calmly.
“Yeah, I’ve been swamped with graduation prep lately, so I crash around now. Was about to sleep, but I figured I’d give you a call.”
“I see.”
“There might be reasons not to reach out, but we don’t need a special reason to do it... right? Us.”
“...What did I say?”
“You sounded curious why I called. No big reason—just crossed my mind.”
“Don’t most people sleep three or four hours if they’re up this late? Seems like you’re busier than when you were in Korea.”
“Not usually. You waiting for Sea?”
“Yeah, almost time for school to let out.”
I drew in the warm spring air as I answered. Then Se-ra spoke as if she were right there beside me.
“Go ahead and smoke if you want.”
“Did I... mention that?”
I didn’t remember saying it. Se-ra explained in her usual even tone.
“You don’t sound like you’re in the car, you’re waiting for Sea, so you must’ve stepped out for a cig and that’s when I called, right?”
“This isn’t a video call, is it?”
No matter how smart or capable she was, she couldn’t be checking live CCTV feeds. I asked half in shock, half in awe, and Se-ra chuckled softly.
“Nailed it. Dodged embarrassment there. Don’t mind me—light up.”
“...Thanks.”
I thanked her, put a cigarette between my lips, and lit it. I exhaled slowly, and Se-ra asked casually,
“So why does your voice sound off? You’ll handle rational decisions fine on your own. I can offer some dawn-tinted emotional advice if you want.”
“...”
Her thoughtful words gave me pause. Was it right for me—plotting to kill heroes—to vent to her, daughter of two of those very heroes?
The deliberation was brief. I shook my head faintly, smoke curling from my lips.
No. Even if she didn’t know, I couldn’t lie to myself. That would be deception.
I’d been deceiving her for the past decade. I didn’t want to drag it out to moments I could avoid.
Feigning calm, I started to deny it.
“Nah, it’s nothing—”
“No. Think of it as meddling from a longtime friend, not advice.”
“...About what?”
She cut in before I finished, continuing,
“When judgment’s fuzzy, start with the certainties, step by step. Usually, the hazy stuff clears up that way.”
Irrefutable logic. I nodded evenly.
“Yeah, you’re right. But isn’t that more rational advice than emotional?”
It was practical and helpful, if I had to nitpick. Se-ra teased back playfully.
“Is it? Can’t help my personality. Cut me some slack.”
“Thanks.”
That was all I could say. Anything more felt beyond my reach.
Se-ra went on.
“Not advice, but since we’re on emotions... I’m feeling a bit weird right now.”
“How so?”
“It’s pitch black outside here. Dead silent, just my lamp on. But not for you, right? Sun’s still up, street noise and all. We’re talking like this, but our worlds are so different. Not homesick or anything... just hits different.”
“...Se-ra.”
“Yeah?”
Her wistful words pulled this response from me inevitably.
“Guess it is dawn there, huh.”
“Teasing me?”
“Won’t deny it.”
I doubled down shamelessly, and Se-ra laughed—the clearest, brightest sound of the call, ringing sharp through the receiver. Then, almost to herself,
“Called on a whim, but it felt worthwhile after all.”
Her words sparked a realization in me too.
That day two years back, when she’d hurled sharp words at me and I’d lost my cool, spitting back whatever came to mind. This was probably our first real conversation since.
A few seconds of silence. Then Se-ra changed the subject.
“My return date’s set.”
“When?”
“June 3rd. Skipping graduation—heading straight back. Things’ll be hectic for a few days after... If you’re free, how about that Sunday?”
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
Her voice seemed a touch more lively as she wrapped up.
“It’s a plan, then. I’ll call when I’m back. Gotta sleep now. Say hi to Sea for me.”
“Se-ra.”
I called out just before she hung up, instinctively. She asked,
“What’s up?”
Calm voice. I hesitated a split second.
Should I say it? Recalling her earlier advice—start with the sure things, one by one—this felt certain enough. I went to say what I wanted...
“If it’s not urgent, save it for when we meet. Don’t wanna mess up my condition if I don’t sleep.”
“...Okay.”
“See you.”
The line went dead.
She knew what I’d been about to say. Did she dodge it because she didn’t want to hear it? Or because I didn’t deserve forgiveness?
I sighed deeply, tossed the half-smoked cigarette, and reached for another.
Right then—
“...”
I sensed eyes on my back, unnoticed until now.
A chill prickled as I turned.
“Smoking again?”
Sea stood there in her uniform, bag slung over her shoulder, glaring coldly.
I slipped the cigarette back with deliberate gentleness and asked cautiously,
“Uh... how long you been there?”
“From ‘Guess it is dawn there, huh.’”
Her reply had that dramatic edge, like she was setting a mood. Yoo Hae-bin mimicked me weirdly sometimes, and now Sea too? Or was that really how I talked?
“Why didn’t you say something?”
Embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping, I asked. She replied primly,
“I’ve got some tact.”
She spun on her heel and marched to my car. As I followed and started the engine, she finally asked,
“Meeting Se-ra unnie?”
“Yeah, when she gets back.”
At minimum, we’d meet twice. Talk alone first, then face her father, Han Tae-gang.
Our magically binding engagement expired this summer. Time’s up—down to the parties’ choice.
If the Great Rift hadn’t happened. If my parents hadn’t died.
Would we be having the opposite conversation now? Pointless to dwell.
Sea muttered so low it was barely audible.
“At least... don’t bring home anyone less than Se-ra unnie.”
“Standards too high?”
“No compromising from here.”
Small voice, but firm as steel. Picky eyes, huh...
“Why’re you laughing?”
She grilled me as I grinned.
“Nothing. What’s for dinner?”
“Pork cutlet.”
Instant answer. I chuckled again and drove off.
The same moment.
Lying in her dark bedroom, Han Se-ra stared at the ceiling.
Five a.m. Bedtime. Exhaustion and drowsiness pressed in, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Her tangled emotions wouldn’t let her.
Resentment, bitterness, regret, faith, understanding... and love.
Too many, too complex for one person. They swirled, refusing to fade.
Memories surfaced.
The day before leaving for her studies, meeting Lee Dojin.
Se-ra remembered it vividly still.
Cool accusation. Apology without excuse.
Her frustration boiled into near-pleading blame—not what it seemed.
Just say something. She’d believe him. Anything.
Silence was her answer.
How long? Both drunk, tempers flaring. She’d said to her precious friend and fiancé,
The you I know would never be like this.
Irreversible words. And then...
His voice, raw with surging emotion and chill detachment:
What the hell do you know?
It shocked her deeply. Not the cold tone—emotions ran high, her fault partly.
The words themselves.
“You don’t know.”
She understood him best, surely. He knew that.
Yet he said it.
She read between the lines: a side of him even she didn’t know.
Doubts had largely cleared then. Rumors stung, sure, but meant little now.
He had secrets. Crucial ones.
That was enough intel. Nearly two years on, Se-ra could say confidently:
She might not know him best anymore... but she grasped his core better than anyone.
She’d manage back in Korea.
Se-ra wasn’t the type to repeat mistakes.
May 13th, Thursday afternoon.
During Magic Engineering class, Yoo Hae-bin received a bolt-from-the-blue announcement.
“So this lab will be in groups. Keep that in mind.”
Staring at the impassive Lee Dojin, she muttered inwardly,
Wait, hold up... this ain’t it, chief...