The bar was quieter than usual. Dim lights flickered over weathered wood and old photographs on the wall frozen memories of better days. Mira sat at her usual booth in the back, her untouched glass of water gathering condensation. She didn't speak. She didn't need to.
Behind the counter, Tae-Hyun wiped the same glass for the third time, more out of habit than need. His sharp eyes, greyed by age but never dulled, watched her.
"You remember the first time you came here?" he said, voice low and rough from too many years and too many smokes.
Mira didn't look up. "I was twelve. Bloody nose. Broken glasses. I told you I fell."
He snorted. "Worst lie I ever heard."
Flashback:
The old bar had smelled like smoke and sweat. Mira had walked in, her jacket ripped, her lip split, her eyes blank. She hadn't cried. Not a single tear.
Tae-Hyun had knelt in front of her, silently cleaning her face with a damp towel. His hands were rough, but his touch was careful like he was handling something fragile no one else had noticed was breaking.
"You wanna tell me who did this?" he had asked.
She shook her head.
"You didn't cry," he muttered.
"Crying doesn't fix anything," she'd said.
He'd paused then, staring at her. Something in his chest cracked but she never saw it.
She never saw him slip out the back that night.
But the bullies never touched her again.
Present:
"You never cried," Tae-Hyun said again, dragging himself back to the now. "Even then."
Mira shrugged slightly, eyes on her drink. "Still doesn't fix anything."
A long silence passed between them.
"Are you still chasing the truth?" he asked finally.
"I'm closer than ever," she said. "But it's.… not what I thought it would be."
Tae-Hyun raised an eyebrow. "You getting soft on me?"
"No." Mira hesitated.
Then: "But I think I might've made a mistake."
"What kind?"
Her fingers tapped the glass. Quiet. Controlled.
"I might've.…" she took a breath, eyes flickering to the window like the rain might drown her words if she said them too loud. "....fallen for someone."
That made him pause.
He blinked once, twice.
"Say that again."
She looked him dead in the eyes. "I think I've fallen for someone. And I don't know if that makes me weak or human."
Tae-Hyun scoffed, tossing the rag aside. "Makes you dangerous."
He leaned over the bar, his voice firm. "Falling in love isn't a bad thing, kid."
Mira looked up, surprised by the gentleness in his tone.
He leaned on the bar, eyes sharp but voice quieter now. "Not unless you're falling for the enemy."
She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded once, just enough to be seen.
"I don't think he is," she said softly. "At least.… not anymore."
Tae-Hyun lit a cigarette, exhaling slow. "Then make sure you're not forgetting why you started all this. Love's fine just don't let it blind you."
Mira smiled faintly. "He's not the enemy. I'm starting to believe that."
"Doesn't mean he's a friend either."
"No," she said. "It just means I have to be careful."
Footsteps outside made Tae-Hyun stiffen. He reached below the counter, fingers brushing something metallic.
But the sound faded. A car pulled away.
"They're watching me," Mira said softly.
"Then let them." Tae-Hyun lit a cigarette. "They'll see what kind of hell they invited."
Mira stood, jacket in hand.
"Where are you going?"
"Back to work. There's more I need to see. And someone I need to understand."
"You mean the young Han?"
Mira didn't reply.
Because she didn't know.
Not yet.
She stepped into the rain, silent and composed like the little girl who never cried.
And Tae-Hyun, behind the glass door, watched her vanish into the dark, a storm in human skin.