REN'S POV
If there was one thing I hated more than Monday mornings, it was working late on a Friday.
Unfortunately, the universe had apparently decided that my happiness was optional.
I stared at my computer screen.
Then at the clock.
Then back at my computer screen.
6:42 PM.
I slowly closed my eyes.
"Why me?"
The spreadsheet remained silent.
"Don't look at me like that. You know this is your fault."
Still nothing.
I sighed and leaned back in my chair.
My colleagues had already left, and even Peach had abandoned me after sending a message that read:
Peach 🐣: Sorry, Ren! Prapai is taking me to dinner tonight. Don't work too hard! ❤️
I had replied with a very mature thumbs-down emoji.
His response?
Peach 🐣: Don't be jealous. Your future husband might come to rescue you.
I stared at the message for a full five seconds.
Then I typed:
Ren: I hope your food gets cold.
He sent three laughing emojis.
I blocked him.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Then I unblocked him because I needed someone to complain to.
Pathetic? Maybe.
But friendship required sacrifices.
And apparently, mine required me to tolerate Peach's terrible matchmaking skills.
I glanced towards the glass office at the end of the corridor.
Prapai's office was still occupied.
More specifically, Kim was still there.
Of course he was.
Did that man ever go home?
I'd seen him arrive early, leave late, and somehow manage to look perfectly composed throughout the entire process. Meanwhile, I looked like a sleep-deprived raccoon after completing a single presentation.
It was deeply unfair.
I returned to my report.
Thirty minutes later, I finally finished.
I checked the figures twice, saved the document, and sent it to my supervisor.
Then I shut down my computer with the satisfaction of a man who had survived a war.
"Freedom!"
My voice echoed through the nearly empty department.
I grabbed my bag and hurried towards the exit.
Only to discover that it was raining.
Not ordinary rain.
Not the kind of rain that politely allowed you to run to your car without getting wet.
This was the kind of rain that made the entire world look like it had been dropped into a bucket of water.
I stood beneath the building's entrance and stared at the road.
Wonderful.
Just wonderful.
I searched my bag for an umbrella.
Nothing.
I checked my pockets.
Nothing.
I even checked the ridiculous little compartment where I kept old receipts and random pieces of paper.
Still nothing.
"Brilliant, Ren. Absolutely brilliant."
"Are you planning to spend the night here?"
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I turned around.
Kim stood a few feet behind me, holding a black umbrella.
His tie was loosened slightly, and he had his car keys in one hand.
Even after an entire day at work, he looked annoyingly handsome.
Not that I was paying attention.
I was simply acknowledging an unfortunate fact.
"Do you always sneak up on people?" I asked.
"Do you always talk to yourself in public?"
I stared at him.
He stared back.
"I was thinking aloud."
"Clearly."
I narrowed my eyes.
One day, I was going to discover how to make this man smile without feeling like I'd achieved a scientific breakthrough.
Actually, I'd already seen him smile once.
And the fact that I remembered it was completely irrelevant.
"Anyway," I said, turning towards the rain, "I'm going home."
Kim glanced at the weather.
"How?"
"That's a very good question."
"Did you bring an umbrella?"
I slowly turned towards him.
"Do I look like someone who brought an umbrella?"
He looked at my empty hands.
"No."
"Then why ask?"
"To confirm my suspicions."
I opened my mouth.
Closed it.
This man was impossible.
Kim opened his umbrella.
"Come on. I'll drive you."
I blinked.
"What?"
"I'll drive you home."
"Oh, no. That's okay. I can manage."
"How?"
I looked at the rain.
He looked at me.
I hated that he had a point.
"I'll call a cab."
"In this weather?"
"Yes."
"You'll probably wait an hour."
"Then I'll wait an hour."
Kim sighed.
"Ren."
Something about the way he said my name made me look at him.
"Get in the car before you catch a cold."
For a moment, I forgot what I was going to say.
He hadn't sounded irritated.
He hadn't made a sarcastic remark.
He had simply told me to get in the car, as though making sure I got home safely was the most natural thing in the world.
I quickly looked away.
"Fine. But only because I don't want to spend the night here."
"Of course."
"And because the rain is terrible."
"Naturally."
"And definitely not because you asked."
Kim opened the umbrella wider.
"Are you finished?"
"Yes."
"Good. Let's go."
I followed him towards the parking area.
And, for reasons I absolutely refused to examine, I found myself smiling.
The inside of Kim's car smelled faintly of leather and something warm and woody.
It was clean.
Of course it was clean.
I suspected that if I dropped a single crumb on the floor, the man would immediately notice.
I fastened my seat belt while Kim started the engine.
For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke.
Rain tapped against the windshield, and the wipers moved steadily from side to side.
I watched the blurred city lights pass outside.
Then I glanced at Kim.
He was concentrating on the road, one hand resting on the steering wheel.
"Can I ask you something?"
"You're already asking."
I turned towards him.
"Do you practise being annoying, or does it come naturally?"
"Years of experience."
I laughed before I could stop myself.
Kim glanced at me briefly.
And there it was.
That tiny smile.
Gone almost immediately.
But I'd seen it.
I pointed at him.
"Wait!"
"What?"
"You smiled."
"No, I didn't."
"You absolutely did."
"You're imagining things."
"I have witnesses."
"Who?"
"Me."
"Not a reliable witness."
I gasped.
"You're unbelievable."
"And yet, you're still in my car."
"Because you're driving me home!"
"An unfortunate decision on my part."
I laughed again.
This time, I could have sworn his expression softened.
For a while, the conversation continued like that.
I complained about my report.
Kim listened while occasionally making comments that were either unexpectedly helpful or deeply irritating.
When I told him about the spreadsheet that had refused to cooperate with me, he suggested a simpler way to organise the figures.
When I complained about my supervisor's endless revisions, he reminded me that the final version had been approved.
And when I accused him of taking the side of every difficult person in my life, he simply said, "Perhaps the common factor is you."
I turned towards him in disbelief.
"Stop the car."
"Why?"
"I'm getting out."
"We're on a busy road."
"I'll take my chances."
"Very dramatic."
"You bring out the worst in me."
For some reason, Kim seemed particularly amused by that statement.
I looked out of the window, trying to hide my smile.
Maybe Peach was wrong about a lot of things.
But he might have been right about one.
Kim wasn't quite as cold as he appeared.
And I was beginning to wonder what he was like when nobody else was watching.
The thought stayed with me longer than it should have.
Then the traffic light turned red.
Kim brought the car to a stop.
I glanced towards the window.
Rain slid down the glass in thin, trembling lines.
The streetlights blurred into golden circles.
And suddenly, the world disappeared.
I wasn't in the car anymore.
I was standing beneath a tree.
The air smelled of wet earth, and rain fell around me.
Someone stood a short distance away.
A young man.
I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could feel the sadness radiating from him.
He was looking at someone.
Someone he seemed desperate to reach.
Someone he was afraid of losing.
My chest tightened.
Then I heard a voice.
"Aren..."
The name echoed through my mind.
The young man beneath the tree lowered his head.
And I felt a terrible ache, as though I was remembering a goodbye I had never experienced.
No.
Not a goodbye.
Something worse.
A promise left unfinished.
"Ren?"
The vision vanished.
I jerked upright.
The car was still at the traffic light.
The rain was still falling.
And Kim was looking at me.
"Ren, what's wrong?"
I stared at him, struggling to catch my breath.
For a second, his face seemed strangely familiar.
Not because I'd seen him at work.
Not because he'd driven me home.
It was something deeper.
Something I couldn't explain.
"Are you feeling unwell?" he asked.
"I'm fine."
The answer came out too quickly.
Kim didn't look convinced.
"You're pale."
"I just..."
I swallowed.
"I had that dream again."
His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
It was a small movement, but I noticed it.
"What dream?"
"The one I told you about this morning."
Kim said nothing.
I turned towards him.
"There was a tree. And rain. And someone standing there."
I paused.
"I heard a name. Aren."
For the first time since I'd met him, Kim looked genuinely shaken.
It lasted only a moment.
Then his expression became unreadable again.
"Perhaps you've heard the name somewhere before," he said quietly.
"Maybe."
I studied his face.
"But why does it feel so familiar?"
Kim looked towards the traffic light as it turned green.
"We don't always understand our dreams."
He started driving.
I wanted to ask him something else.
I wanted to ask why he'd reacted that way when I mentioned Aren.
But the words wouldn't come.
Instead, I looked back at the rain.
And wondered why the thought of that unfamiliar young man made me feel as though I'd lost something precious.
Something I hadn't even known I possessed.
By the time we reached my apartment, the rain had softened to a drizzle.
Kim parked near the entrance.
"Thank you for the ride," I said, unfastening my seat belt. "And for not abandoning me on the road."
"I considered it."
I laughed.
"Of course you did."
I opened the door, then paused.
There was something I needed to ask.
Something that had been bothering me since the strange vision.
"Kim?"
He turned towards me.
"Yes?"
"Have we met somewhere before?"
Silence.
Not the comfortable silence we'd shared during the drive.
This was different.
For a moment, he looked at me as though I'd reached into a part of him that he had spent years trying to keep hidden.
Then he looked away.
"Perhaps."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means you should get inside before you catch a cold."
"That's not an answer!"
"It's the only one I have for you tonight."
I stared at him.
He stared back.
Finally, I sighed.
"You're incredibly frustrating."
"I've been told."
"By whom?"
"Someone with excellent judgement."
I rolled my eyes.
But I was smiling when I stepped out of the car.
"Goodnight, Kim."
"Goodnight, Ren."
I shut the door and walked towards the entrance.
Before going inside, I glanced back.
Kim was still there.
Watching to make sure I got home safely.
When he noticed me looking, he raised a hand slightly.
I waved back.
Then I entered the building.
For some reason, I couldn't stop thinking about the way he'd looked at me when I'd mentioned Aren.
Or the way he'd said perhaps.
As though the answer to my question was something he knew very well.
Something he simply wasn't ready to tell me.
I shook my head and headed upstairs.
Maybe Peach was right.
Maybe I was curious about Kim.
But curiosity didn't mean anything.
Right?
I reached my apartment, unlocked the door, and dropped my bag on the sofa.
Then I checked my phone.
There was a message from Peach.
Peach 🐣: HOME YET? DID YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND DRIVE YOU HOME? 👀
I stared at the screen.
Ren: I'm blocking you again.
Peach 🐣: SO THAT'S A YES.
I threw my phone onto the sofa.
"I hate my life."
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was a message from Kim.
Kim: Let me know if you feel unwell. Get some rest.
I read it twice.
Then, before I could overthink it, I replied.
Ren: I'm fine. Thank you for today. Goodnight!
His response came a few moments later.
Kim: Goodnight, Ren.
I stared at those two words for an embarrassingly long time.
Then I placed my phone face down.
And went to bed.
That night, I dreamed of the tree again.
Only this time, the young man wasn't standing alone.
Someone stood in front of him.
I couldn't see the second person's face.
But I heard a voice, soft and trembling.
"Promise me you'll find me again."
Then the young man whispered a name.
"Aren."
I woke up before dawn, my heart aching for a reason I couldn't understand.
And for the first time, I wondered whether my dreams were trying to tell me something.
Something about a past I couldn't remember.
And a man I was only beginning to know.
KIM'S POV
I didn't start the engine immediately.
I sat in the parking area outside Ren's apartment, watching the entrance where he'd disappeared a few minutes earlier.
He had asked me a question.
A simple question.
Have we met somewhere before?
For centuries, I'd imagined what it would feel like to hear those words from him again.
In some of my dreams, he remembered everything.
In others, he looked straight through me as though I were a complete stranger.
I'd imagined countless possibilities.
But I'd never imagined how difficult it would be to sit beside him and pretend that his question didn't hurt.
Perhaps because I knew the truth.
We had met before.
Long before this life.
Long before this city, this company, and the ordinary world Ren now knew.
I'd known him when the world was different.
When promises meant everything.
When a single moment could change the course of two lives.
And when I had learned, far too late, that loving someone didn't mean you could protect them from every sorrow.
I closed my eyes.
For a moment, I could almost hear his voice from another time.
Then the memory faded.
I started the engine and drove home.
My apartment was quiet when I arrived.
I removed my jacket, loosened my tie, and walked towards the study.
There was a locked cabinet in the corner.
I kept many things inside it.
Old letters.
Photographs.
Objects that had survived years no ordinary person could imagine.
Things I had never been able to throw away.
I unlocked the cabinet and reached for a small wooden box.
Its surface was worn, and one of its corners had a tiny crack.
I had carried it with me through more years than I cared to count.
Slowly, I opened it.
Inside lay an old photograph and a folded piece of paper.
I picked up the photograph first.
The image had faded with time, but I still remembered the day it had been taken.
I remembered the place.
The weather.
The sound of rain against the leaves.
And the person who had stood beside me.
I ran my thumb over the photograph's worn edge.
"Ren..."
His name came out as a whisper.
In this life, he didn't remember me.
He didn't remember the promises we'd made or the moments we'd shared.
He didn't know why I watched him from across the office.
He didn't know why hearing him laugh could make an ordinary day feel precious.
And he certainly didn't know why I had to fight the urge to tell him everything whenever he looked at me with those curious eyes.
I placed the photograph back in the box and unfolded the paper.
The handwriting was old.
The ink had faded.
But the words remained legible.
If fate allows us to meet again, I hope we can find each other before it's too late.
I read the sentence several times.
Then I carefully folded the paper and returned it to its place.
For years, I had believed that meeting Ren again would be enough.
That seeing him alive and well would somehow make the past easier to bear.
But tonight, when he'd asked whether we'd met before, I'd realised how little I understood about what came next.
He was no longer the person I remembered.
He had grown into someone with his own habits, his own dreams, and his own way of looking at the world.
He teased me without fear.
Argued with me without hesitation.
And smiled at me without knowing that I'd once spent years wishing I could see that expression again.
I couldn't expect him to remember the past simply because I did.
Nor could I ask him to feel something for me because of a promise made in another life.
If we were going to find each other again, I wanted it to happen naturally.
I wanted Ren to know me.
Not the man I'd once been.
Not the memories I carried.
Not the secrets hidden inside this old box.
I wanted him to know Kim.
The irritating man who drove him home in the rain.
The colleague who listened to his complaints.
The person who had begun looking forward to their conversations far more than he was willing to admit.
Perhaps that was where our story had to begin.
Not with a revelation.
Not with a forgotten promise.
But with an ordinary evening, a shared laugh, and a question neither of us was ready to answer.
I closed the box and returned it to the cabinet.
Before locking it away, I glanced at the photograph one last time.
Then I whispered the words I'd kept to myself for so long.
"This time, I'll give you the chance to choose me."
I closed the cabinet.
And for the first time in a very long while, I allowed myself to imagine a future that wasn't shaped entirely by the past.
A future in which Ren might one day look at me and see more than a familiar stranger.
A future in which I wouldn't have to watch him from the shadows.
A future in which, perhaps, we could finally begin again.
To be continued...