[No-Ah]
No-Ah woke up.
And immediately reached for her phone.
The realization hit three seconds later.
She froze.
"..."
Then glared at the ceiling.
Because apparently this was her life now.
Wonderful.
Very dignified.
She unlocked her phone.
One unread message.
Her heartbeat betrayed her.
Again.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
She opened the chat.
Kei
Sorry. Fell asleep
No-Ah stared.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
That was it.
No excuse.
No dramatic explanation.
Just—
Fell asleep.
Which shouldn't have bothered her.
Except it did.
Because Mrs Yoon's words immediately came back.
"He hasn't been sleeping"
No-Ah rolled onto her back.
Staring at the ceiling.
"...Idiot."
The ceiling offered no opinion.
☆ ☆ ☆
The café bell chimed.
No-Ah pushed the door open.
And stopped.
Run-Seo was already there.
Standing behind the counter.
Preparing coffee.
Like she'd never left.
Like the last few days hadn't happened at all.
She glanced up.
Their eyes met briefly.
"Morning."
"Morning."
Simple.
Normal.
Nothing strange.
Which somehow made it stranger.
No-Ah hung her bag up.
Trying not to think about it.
Trying not to think about anything.
Especially not texts.
Or CEOs.
Or sleep-deprived idols.
A hopeless effort.
The café bell chimed again.
Min-Ji walked in.
Took one look around.
Then grinned.
Immediately.
A bad sign.
"Oh."
"No."
"Oh, this is nice."
Run-Seo didn't even look up.
"What is?"
"My employees are getting along."
"We're coworkers."
"I prefer my version."
No-Ah grabbed a dish towel.
Min-Ji wisely stepped out of throwing range.
Experience had taught him many things.
Self-preservation being one of them.
☆ ☆ ☆
The morning rush arrived.
Then doubled.
Then somehow tripled.
Coffee orders.
Pastries.
Customers.
Questions.
Complaints.
Everything happened at once.
Which was honestly a blessing.
Because it left No-Ah too busy to think.
Mostly.
Her phone vibrated once during a lull.
Just once.
She glanced down automatically.
A tiny movement.
Barely noticeable.
Run-Seo noticed anyway.
No-Ah unlocked the screen.
Read something.
And for just a second—
the corner of her mouth lifted.
Tiny.
Almost invisible.
Then it disappeared.
She locked the phone.
And went back to work.
Run-Seo looked away first.
Immediately.
The knot in her stomach tightened.
Annoying.
Very annoying.
Around noon—
The rush finally died.
Everyone collectively remembered how breathing worked.
Min-Ji collapsed dramatically into a chair.
"I've worked enough for one lifetime."
"You made three coffees."
"I made them emotionally."
"That doesn't mean anything."
"It means everything."
Run-Seo snorted.
Accidentally.
Min-Ji pointed immediately.
"Aha."
"No."
"You laughed."
"I exhaled."
"You're both impossible."
☆ ☆ ☆
Several kilometers away—
Kei looked alive.
Technically.
His manager considered this progress.
Yesterday he'd looked like a cautionary tale.
Today he merely looked exhausted.
An improvement.
"You slept."
Kei glanced up.
"...Apparently."
"You sound disappointed."
"My neck hurts."
"You slept like a normal person."
"I slept like a folded chair."
His manager sighed.
The sigh of a man who had long since accepted that his job involved managing disasters.
During a break between rehearsals—
Kei unlocked his phone.
The message was still there.
No-Ah
Not really. Why?
He stared.
A small smile appeared.
Then immediately betrayed him.
Because his manager saw it.
Of course he did.
"...Who are you texting?"
"No one."
"You're smiling."
"No, I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm sitting."
"Those are unrelated statements."
Kei locked the screen.
His manager became suspicious.
A terrible development.
☆ ☆ ☆
Back at the café—
Lunch had ended.
The customers were gone.
The silence felt strange after the chaos.
No-Ah sat down at an empty table.
Phone in hand.
Not doing anything.
Definitely not rereading messages.
That would be ridiculous.
Old arguments.
Old jokes.
Old complaints.
Then—
She remembered something totally random.
"Ran into my ex today. "
The memory returned immediately.
She remembered listening to him saying it.
Remembered not asking.
Remembered deciding it wasn't any of her business.
At the time, she genuinely hadn't cared.
Now—
For some reason—
She found herself thinking of it.
Longer than necessary.
Much longer.
"..."
Who was she?
The question appeared unexpectedly.
She stopped.
And frowned.
Locked her phone.
Then looked up.
Across the café.
Run-Seo was restocking cups.
Completely normal.
Completely unrelated.
No-Ah looked away immediately.
Because that thought had come from nowhere.
No reason.
No connection.
Just a random coincidence—
"You're staring."
No-Ah nearly jumped.
Min-Ji had appeared beside her.
Again.
Like some kind of workplace haunting.
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"I wasn't."
"You absolutely were."
"No."
"Who are we arguing about?"
"No one."
"Interesting."
"No."
"Because I didn't say anyone's name."
"..."
"Aha."
"No."
"Aha."
"Go away."
"I work here."
"Unfortunately."
The rest of the afternoon passed normally.
Or as normally as possible.
Run-Seo worked.
Min-Ji complained.
Customers existed.
Life continued.
Yet every now and then—
No-Ah's thoughts drifted back.
To one message.
One sentence.
One question.
And each time—
without realizing it—
her gaze drifted toward Run-Seo.
Just for a second.
Just briefly.
Then away again.
Never long enough to mean anything.
At least not yet.
And somewhere in the back of her mind—
a tiny thread had begun to pull.
One she hadn't noticed.
One that would eventually lead somewhere she wasn't expecting.
☆ ☆ ☆