Chapter Text
Hwang Inho had always considered himself someone steadfast in his convictions. He rarely hesitated, always knowing how to navigate any situation with composure. His life had been a carefully structured path—one dictated by duty, expectations, and an unwavering sense of responsibility. As the eldest son of the Hwang family, there had never been room for uncertainty.
From an early age, he understood that the weight of the family name rested on his shoulders. His father, a strict and successful businessman, made it clear that one day, Inho would take over the company. At first, he had entertained the thought of resisting, but rebellion was fleeting when the outcome had already been decided for him. His role was set in stone: to lead, to succeed, to never falter.
For as long as he could remember, he had been the obedient son—the one who never questioned, who never strayed from the path carved out for him. It wasn’t necessarily the life he wanted, but it was the only life he knew. Others might have called it restrictive, but Inho found comfort in structure. He had a purpose.
So when his father urged him to study Business at university, he complied without a second thought. There was no need to consider alternatives. He knew what was expected: graduate, join the family company, marry a suitable woman—likely the daughter of one of his father’s associates—and carry on the legacy. No surprises. No complications.
At least, that was the plan.
Until Seong Gihun.
Gihun, his university classmate.
...And his crush.
Inho never understood how it happened. Gihun was nothing like him—never one to obsess over grades or adhere to rigid expectations. He was carefree, spontaneous, magnetic in a way that defied logic. From the moment they met in a Marketing class, Inho found himself drawn to him. The easy way Gihun laughed, the confidence in his voice when he spoke, the way he moved through the world so effortlessly—it all made Inho feel something he couldn’t quite explain.
It was the first time in his life that he didn’t have an answer.
Gihun was everything Inho wasn’t—carefree, effortlessly charming, unpredictable. And yet, no matter how much Inho tried to ignore it, his gaze always seemed to find him. He never spoke to him, never tried to get closer. He convinced himself that it was just curiosity, nothing more.
But that illusion shattered one ordinary day in class.
From his usual seat in the back row, Inho watched as Gihun walked in, laughing alongside Cho Sangwoo. There was nothing unusual about it—he had seen them together countless times before. Yet this time, something was different. The way Gihun smiled at Sangwoo, the casual closeness between them, the effortless ease in their interactions—it made Inho’s stomach tighten. They seemed to exist in their own world, oblivious to everything else.
And for the first time, Inho found himself wondering.
What would it feel like to be in Sangwoo’s place? To be the one standing so close, the one receiving that smile meant just for him?
The realization hit him all at once.
This wasn’t just fascination. It wasn’t just admiration for Gihun’s charm. It was attraction.
It was a thought that surprised him, so sudden that he almost didn’t know how to process it. It wasn’t something he had planned, there were no prior signs to indicate that something like this could happen. But there it was, that strange feeling in his chest telling him that he couldn’t keep ignoring the obvious.
He turned his gaze to his desk, unsure of what to do with the information he had just discovered about himself. To be completely honest, he had never felt attracted to anyone, and it was never something he had questioned before.
It was strange.
But no matter how much he tried to suppress those feelings, they came back stronger every time he saw Gihun. Whether it was when Gihun arrived late to class, apologizing to the professor with his most innocent smile, the one that could melt even the strictest of people, or when Inho heard his loud, genuine laugh from across the room, so full of life that it was impossible not to notice how his whole body seemed to laugh along with him, even accidentally hitting whoever was sitting next to him.
It was exasperating. It was endearing.
And no matter how hard Inho tried to fight it, he had to accept the truth.
He liked Gihun. In a way he couldn’t control, couldn’t rationalize.
And that terrified him.
However, he knew that there was nothing he could do about those feelings, beyond continuing to admire Gihun from a distance and silently wishing things were different. His future was already written; his parents had already decided who he would marry after graduation. And, deep down, Inho also knew they would never accept that he was attracted to men. It made no sense to hold onto something impossible, let alone risk starting a conflict within his family.
So, as he had done his whole life, Inho forced himself to lock those feelings deep within his chest. He decided that his feelings for Gihun would stay exactly as they were: a brief, passing infatuation that would never venture beyond the realm of the impossible. It would simply stay there, at a distance, in the corner of his thoughts, like a nostalgia for something that never was. And, with time, he would forget about it. Or at least, that’s what he hoped.
♡
Graduation day arrived sooner than Inho had expected.
Standing amidst a sea of black caps and gowns, he listened—or at least pretended to listen—to the dean’s speech. His gaze drifted over the crowded auditorium, taking in the familiar faces. In the front rows, his parents and his brother watched with quiet pride. Around him, classmates whispered and laughed, already making plans for celebrations, for what came next.
It wasn’t that Inho didn’t feel a sense of accomplishment upon graduating, especially with one of the highest grades in his class. But for him, it was just another milestone, a necessary step that brought him closer to the next stage already laid out for him. He didn’t share the same exhilaration his classmates felt, nor the anxiety about the future that seemed to weigh on many of them.
Applause echoed through the auditorium as the graduates went up to the stage one by one to receive their diplomas. Inho watched calmly, not too interested, until a familiar name was called.
“Seong Gihun.”
His gaze instinctively shifted to the stage, just in time to see Gihun step up the stairs with a radiant smile. Inho kept his serious expression out of habit, but he almost broke when he saw Gihun slightly trip on his gown. In his mind, it was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen. But, as always, Gihun just laughed at himself, without a trace of embarrassment, and continued toward the dean. Before stepping off the stage, he held his diploma up in the air with pride, drawing laughter and applause from the audience.
God, he was so shameless.
When the ceremony ended and the last names were announced, the auditorium erupted in applause. Hats in the air, hugs between classmates, laughter filling the space with an effervescent energy. Inho, not letting himself get swept up in the mood, limited himself to congratulating a few classmates and saying polite goodbyes. His family was waiting outside, and if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that they didn’t like to wait.
Focused on making his way through the crowd, he barely had time to react when he bumped into someone. He stepped back from the impact and looked up, only to find Gihun, who was smiling at him widely.
“Oh, sorry!” Gihun laughed, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Didn’t expect to crash into the top student of the class.”
Inho stared, momentarily thrown off. They had never exchanged more than passing glances, and yet here Gihun was, talking to him like they were old friends, smiling at him like he truly meant it.
He had to respond quickly, before he panicked more.
"It’s no big deal," he replied calmly, though his heart had just skipped a beat.
"Of course it is! Congratulations, really."
There was something in the way Gihun said it, in the genuine excitement of his voice, that made Inho feel an unexpected warmth in his chest. It was strange how someone who barely spoke to him seemed more excited about his achievement than he was himself.
For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to savor the moment.
“…Thanks, Gihun.” He allowed himself the smallest of smiles. “Congratulations to you too.”
Gihun beamed, and before Inho could process it, he reached out and gave him a friendly pat on the arm—so casual, so natural, as if this had been their routine all along.
“I hope our paths cross again someday,” he said, then disappeared back into the crowd.
Inho stood still for a moment, in shock at having spoken so casually with his crush, and that he treated him as if they were close.
As he finally made his way to the exit, a quiet thought lingered in the back of his mind.
Maybe today wasn’t just another milestone.
Maybe, just maybe, it had been a good day after all.
♡
As he had imagined, his father already had plans for him now that he had graduated from university. Inho was to move to the United States and oversee the family business’s expansion. Just weeks after receiving his diploma, he found himself packing his bags, leaving behind everything familiar with a hollow feeling in his chest.
The trip was quick, efficient, with no space for sentimentality. His father had arranged everything: an apartment in an exclusive area, a team waiting for him, a schedule full of meetings, and, as always, expectations he had to meet without fail.
Despite his fluency in English, adjusting to life in a foreign country was more difficult than he had anticipated. Every day presented new challenges—navigating unfamiliar customs, adapting to a different work culture, figuring out a city that, for all its vibrancy and endless possibilities, never quite felt like home. The time difference hit him harder than he’d expected, leaving him drained and exhausted during the first few weeks.
Still, he adapted. He always did. Work became his anchor, his days consumed by responsibilities and the relentless pursuit of success. Yet, in the stillness of his empty apartment, when the demands of the day faded, he couldn't stop himself from wondering: What if he had been given the chance to choose? What if his life had been his own? But those thoughts were fleeting—easily dismissed. Duty always came first. And so, the first year passed.
Then came the next step in his father’s grand plan: marriage.
The engagement was arranged with the daughter of a long-time business partner. Hyejin was no stranger to him—they had crossed paths at countless corporate events, exchanging polite conversation within the circles they were expected to navigate. From the beginning, they both understood that this wasn’t about romance. It was an alliance, a carefully orchestrated partnership designed to strengthen their families’ legacies.
The wedding day wasn’t filled with sweeping emotions or declarations of everlasting love. Instead, it felt like a formality, just another step in a series of obligations that had to be met for everything to unfold as expected. Neither Hyejin nor Inho had any grand expectations for the day. They both knew it wasn’t about their personal relationship, but about the significance of their union for the family businesses.
Yet, despite the absence of passion, their marriage was never unpleasant. They coexisted seamlessly, two people well-versed in keeping up appearances. Their lives ran parallel, never truly intertwining yet never clashing either. They dined together, spoke of work, helped each other navigate family obligations. It was a quiet, respectful arrangement—practical, if nothing else.
But time had a way of shifting even the most stable foundations. After more than two decades, as they approached their fifties, the cracks in their carefully constructed world became impossible to ignore. When Inho was finally called back to Korea to take over the family business—a responsibility his father had long expected of him but one he had delayed for years—he and Hyejin both knew what it meant.
Their marriage had served its purpose. There was nothing left to hold them together.
Hyejin, on the other hand, had no interest in returning to Korea. The life she had built in the United States was enough for her, independent of the ties that once bound their families together. The alliances that had once dictated their union no longer carried the same weight, and Inho, having fulfilled his obligations, knew it was time for a change. Staying in a marriage that no longer served either of them felt unnecessary.
Their divorce was as uncomplicated as their relationship had been—no resentment, no dramatics. They both agreed that parting ways was the best decision, and with that realization came an unexpected sense of relief. Though their marriage had never been one of love, Inho held a quiet gratitude for the years they had shared. He would always look back on their time together with appreciation, remembering the good moments rather than the absence of something deeper.
When they said their final goodbyes, he didn’t hesitate to wish her well. And for the first time in a long while, he felt like his life was truly his own.
♡
Returning to Korea stirred a whirlwind of emotions in Inho. Relief was among them—being back meant he could finally spend more time with his family, no longer just an occasional visitor but someone truly present in their lives. He looked forward to the simple, everyday moments he had missed for so long. Yet, beneath that relief lay uncertainty. He had spent so many years abroad, fulfilling expectations and chasing responsibilities, that he wasn’t sure what it would feel like to truly live in Korea again.
This wasn’t just a homecoming—it would mark the beginning of an entirely new chapter. Inho was no longer the young man who had left Korea years ago. Much had changed within him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the place he once knew so well would still feel the same.
His first day at the office went better than expected. The building remained the same, yet as he walked through its halls, everything felt different. Some colleagues welcomed him with familiar courtesy, while others hesitated, their expressions searching for recognition. It was understandable—twenty years was a long time to be away.
When he entered the meeting room, Inho realized just how much he had learned during his years abroad. The meetings he used to sit in quietly, now he led with confidence. His years of experience had shaped him, and he couldn’t help but feel a great sense of satisfaction knowing he was stepping up to manage the business his family had worked so hard to grow.
The morning passed in a blur, and before he knew it, lunchtime arrived. After eating, he found himself craving caffeine to power through the rest of the day. His secretary recommended a café across the street, calling it a favorite among the office staff. If so many people liked it, it had to be good.
Without overthinking it, Inho grabbed his coat, crossed the street, and stepped inside.
Inho stepped through the door of the café, and instantly, the soft fragrance of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him. The walls were adorned with hanging plants and framed photos of the city, creating an intimate and relaxed atmosphere. The soft background music added an even more welcoming touch, inviting him to stay for a while.
He headed towards the line, which wasn’t very long, and looked around, noticing that the other customers seemed to be enjoying their space—some focused on their laptops, others simply conversing in low voices. Inho couldn’t help but relax a little, enjoying the atmosphere, so different from the office.
When it was finally his turn, he approached the counter and lifted his gaze to place his order. But as soon as he saw the person on the other side, he stopped in his tracks, surprised.
“Good morning! Can I take your order?” said a warm voice, full of familiarity.
Inho froze.
In front of him, with a slight smile and a calm expression, was Seong Gihun.
His university classmate, Gihun.
His biggest crush, and the person who made him realize his sexual orientation—Gihun.
Inho was paralyzed, unable to process the image before him for a moment. Gihun seemed to have noticed the change in his face, and his expression shifted from cordiality to confusion.
“Wait... Hwang Inho? Is it really you?” Gihun asked, just as surprised.