Fragments of Fate

Chapter 24: Fragments of Fate

The sun barely peeked through the horizon as Yuna sat in the corner of a quiet café in Hongdae, a place she once loved but now felt foreign. The warmth of her coffee did little to thaw the icy weight in her chest. The memory of Hyun's last message clung to her like a ghost, haunting every thought.

"Even if we met a thousand times in a thousand different lives, I'd still find you."

Why did he always have to say things like that? Things that made it impossible for her to move on, to fully let go.

She absentmindedly stirred her coffee, watching the milk swirl into the dark liquid, blending yet never truly becoming one. Just like them.

The bell at the café entrance chimed, and Yuna looked up instinctively. Her heart clenched when she saw a familiar figure step in. For a moment, she thought it was Hyun—but no, that was impossible.

It was Jun-seo.

"Yuna?" His voice carried both surprise and concern as he approached her table. "I didn't expect to see you here."

She forced a small smile. "Neither did I."

Jun-seo had always been a presence in her life—her best friend, her voice of reason when she lost herself in emotions too deep to handle alone. He had been there before Hyun, and he was still here now.

"Are you okay?" he asked, taking the seat across from her. His eyes, warm and steady, searched hers for the truth.

Yuna hesitated before letting out a sigh. "I don't know."

Jun-seo didn't push her to speak, only giving her the quiet space she needed. After a while, she finally broke the silence. "Hyun… he reached out to me."

Jun-seo's jaw tensed slightly, but his expression remained composed. "And?"

"And I don't know what to do with it," Yuna admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jun-seo exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair. "You don't have to know right now, Yuna. But you do have to decide whether you want to keep opening old wounds or finally let them heal."

Her fingers tightened around the cup. "I thought I was healing."

Jun-seo smiled gently. "Healing isn't linear. Sometimes we stumble. But you can't stay in the past forever, Yuna. You deserve to move forward."

The weight in her chest grew heavier, but his words also carried something she hadn't felt in a while—clarity.

Meanwhile, across town, Hyun sat in his family's grand dining room, the air thick with unspoken tension. His father's stern gaze bore into him as his mother sipped her tea, her silence sharper than any words she could say.

"You met her again, didn't you?" his father finally spoke.

Hyun lifted his eyes, refusing to back down. "Yes."

A bitter chuckle left his father's lips. "You still think she belongs in your world?"

"She's not the one who doesn't belong," Hyun countered.

His mother sighed, setting her teacup down. "Hyun, you know what's expected of you. There's no place for—"

"I don't care about expectations," Hyun interrupted, his voice firm. "I only care about what's real. And Yuna is real."

His father's expression darkened. "Then you're a fool."

Hyun felt his grip tighten under the table, but he refused to let his father's words shake him. He had spent too many years living under their control. This time, he wouldn't back down.

He wouldn't lose Yuna again.

That night, as Yuna lay in bed staring at her phone, she found herself typing another message she wasn't sure she should send.

Yuna: Do you ever think fate is just another word for cruelty?

She hovered over the send button, hesitating.

And then, against her better judgment, she pressed it.

Seconds later, her phone vibrated.

Hyun: Only if it keeps us apart.

Chapter 25: A Fractured Destiny

The streets of Seoul shimmered under the golden glow of streetlights as Yuna walked aimlessly, her thoughts a tangled mess of emotions she couldn't escape. Every step felt like wading through memories she had tried so hard to leave behind. Jun-seo's words still echoed in her mind, pushing against the wall she had built around her heart.

"Healing isn't linear."

She sighed, tightening the scarf around her neck as the cold air bit at her skin. Maybe he was right. Maybe she had spent too much time looking back instead of moving forward. But how could she, when every step felt like walking on shattered glass?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her out of her thoughts. She hesitated before pulling it out, as if already knowing whose name she would see.

Hyun: I need to see you.

Her fingers hovered over the screen. The reasonable part of her screamed to ignore it. But the part of her still tangled with him—the part that refused to sever the last thread between them—won.

Yuna: : …Where?

The Han River was quiet that night, the water reflecting the city's endless glow. Hyun was already there when Yuna arrived, his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat. He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his expression unreadable.

"You came," he said softly.

"I shouldn't have," she replied, but there was no real conviction in her voice.

Hyun studied her, his voice steadier than she expected. "I told my father that I'm done living by his rules."

Yuna's breath hitched. "What?"

"I'm done letting them dictate my life," he said, stepping closer. "And that includes who I love."

She shook her head, overwhelmed by the weight of his words. "Hyun, you can't just—"

"I can," he interrupted. "And I will."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and uncertain. Yuna looked away, staring at the shimmering water. "And what if I don't want to go through this again?"

"Then tell me," he whispered, his voice raw with desperation. "Tell me you don't love me anymore, and I swear… I'll leave you alone."

Yuna opened her mouth, but the words refused to come. Because no matter how much she wanted to deny it, her heart still beat for him.

Hyun sighed, taking her silence as his answer. "I'm not asking you to decide now. Just… don't shut me out."

She swallowed hard. "I don't know how to do this, Hyun."

"Then let's figure it out together."

For the first time in a long time, Yuna felt a sliver of hope slip through the cracks of her fractured heart. But hope was dangerous. Hope was what made falling hurt the most.

Maybe, just maybe, their destiny wasn't entirely broken.