I glanced at Haru as he drove, his focus unwavering on the road. His right hand held mine firmly, yet gently, while his left guided the steering wheel with practiced ease. I couldn't help but lower my gaze to our intertwined fingers. His touch radiated a quiet warmth—steady and grounding. But I knew Haru; his gestures had a simple meaning, just his way of showing empathy, offering comfort without needing words.

The silence between us hung heavy, unspoken thoughts filling the space. I turned my attention to the window, watching the city lights blur past us. The rhythmic hum of the car was oddly soothing, but the tension in my chest only grew.

Breaking through the stillness, I asked, "When did you get a car?"

"Around seven or six months ago," Haru replied matter-of-factly, his tone even and unbothered, as though buying a car was just another item on his to-do list.

I nodded, processing the timeline. "Have you graduated already?"

"Finished a year early," Haru said, his voice calm, almost detached. "Got hired by K Company as chief marketing officer."

My head whipped toward him in disbelief. "That's cool...." My words spilled out, my voice tinged with genuine awe. "I always knew someone like you would succeed."

He glanced at me briefly, his lips curling into a faint grin. "Thanks," he said, his tone modest, as though his achievement was no big deal.

And just like that, silence returned. I fidgeted slightly, my mind racing to find something else to say, something to fill the awkward void. But the words didn't come.

I turned back to the window, letting the quiet settle again, though my heart remained restless. Why does it feel so hard to talk to him now?

"What was wrong with you earlier?" Haru asked, his tone serious, cutting through the heavy silence. His grip on my hand tightened slightly. "You almost got yourself killed."

I kept my gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window, avoiding his eyes. "I was just... overwhelmed," I muttered, my voice low.

"With what?" he pressed, his tone softening.

"Everything," I sighed, shrugging as I leaned back into the seat. "Life hasn't exactly been kind to me lately..."

The car fell silent again as Haru didn't respond. The sound of tires on asphalt filled the void.

I stole a glance at him, wondering what could be running through his mind. After all, I was the one who had thrown a tantrum before he went to the military, leaving things on a bitter note. Yet, here I was, running straight into his arms the moment I got the chance. Strangely, he hadn't pushed me away, nor had he even been angry.

Instead, he held my hand as though those years apart had never happened. Now, he was taking me to his home, his silence speaking volumes.

It felt surreal—this quiet, unspoken forgiveness.

I stared down at our hands once again. Why did his touch feel both comforting and suffocating at the same time? A part of me wanted to let go, to avoid the confusing thoughts swirling in my head, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Instead, I let him hold on, just like he always did, even when I didn't deserve it.

*****

"Here you go..."

Haru handed me a steaming cup of hot chocolate in a dark green mug while I sat curled up on his couch, my knees drawn to my chest. I was clad in a pair of comfortable clothes borrowed from him after I had washed up. The faint scent of his laundry detergent lingered on the soft fabric, adding a strange sense of familiarity.

"Thanks..." I muttered, cradling the mug between my hands. My gaze remained fixed on the swirling liquid inside.

Haru slumped down beside me, his own mug in his hand. Stretching his long legs out, he draped an arm casually over the backrest behind me. He took a sip from his mug before glancing at me. "Your eyes are still puffy..."

"Duh..." I replied, sighing. "I cried my eyeballs out. Of course, they'd look like this."

A tinge of embarrassment bubbled within me. Crying in front of someone, especially Haru, felt alien. I'd always believed that tears equated to weakness—a vulnerability I'd never wanted to show anyone.

Haru chuckled softly, then bent his arm to ruffle my hair. I flinched at the sudden gesture.

"I didn't know robots could cry too," he teased, his tone light.

I shot him a glare. "You're such an ass."

Pulling his hand back, Haru's expression shifted. The playful glimmer in his eyes faded into something softer, more serious. "So, what's really going on in your life, Myung?"

I stared down at the mug in my hands, its warmth radiating against my cold fingers. My throat tightened, a lump forming that refused to be swallowed. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, willing myself not to break. Not again. For God's sake... What's wrong with me?...

I didn't respond. My silence hung heavy between us, betraying the words I couldn't bring myself to say.

Setting his mug down on the coffee table, Haru leaned in closer. His hands cupped my face, tilting it up gently to meet his gaze. The sincerity in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

"Don't cry," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "It breaks my heart."

"I'm not!" I protested, though my trembling lips betrayed the lie.

His thumb brushed tenderly over my cheek, wiping away the moisture threatening to spill. "Why don't you just rant about your problems?" he asked, his tone steady yet pleading. "Let me take all your pain. I'm not that useless Haru anymore."

I stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on me like an anchor sinking into the depths of my chest. "I still don't get you, Haru..." I finally voiced the question that had been gnawing at my mind. "Are we really going to pretend like nothing wrong ever happened between us?"

Haru arched an eyebrow, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. "The past is in the past, Myung," he said, his tone firm but calm.

"Aren't you mad at me?" I asked, my voice laced with genuine confusion.

"Are you mad at me?" Haru countered almost immediately, his serious gaze locking onto mine.

I hesitated, dropping my eyes to avoid his piercing stare. "No... not anymore," I admitted quietly, my voice trailing off.

Haru sighed, the tension in his shoulders softening as his hands fell into his lap. "Then how could I ever be mad at you? Especially when you..." His voice faltered, his eyes clouding over with a momentary distance as if he were caught in a memory he didn't want to share. He let out another sigh, running his fingers through his hair before muttering, "Ugh... anyway, let's not dig up the past. It doesn't matter anymore."

I placed my mug on the table, my chest tightening as conflicted feelings consumed me. Before I could second-guess myself, I leaned toward him, wrapping my arms around his waist and nestling my head against his chest. His warmth enveloped me, bringing a bittersweet sense of comfort. "Well... Just know that I'm sorry..." I murmured, my voice barely audible.

Haru's breath hitched for a moment, and then he placed his chin gently on the top of my head. "If you're sorry, don't ever leave me again," he said softly, his tone calm yet tinged with sorrow. "I told you before that I hate it." He paused, his voice dropping into a whisper. "True f-friends... shouldn't do that, right?"

His hands settled on my shoulders, gently pulling me back so we were no longer so close. His dark eyes bore into mine, steady yet vulnerable.

True friends? The words echoed in my mind, leaving a bittersweet pang in my chest. I compelled myself to grin, forcing the overwhelming emotions away. "Yeah. You're right..."

"Then promise me," Haru said, his smile returning, soft and genuine. "That's all I want."

I felt a lump forming in my throat as I hesitated. My voice came out low and unsure, my gaze shifting away from his. "I promise..."

"Promise what?" he teased, his eyebrows raised.

I looked back at him, flustered. "I promise I won't leave you," I huffed, averting my eyes again.

"Atta boy," Haru said with a chuckle, ruffling my hair like I was his little brother. The gesture made me feel a strange mix of irritation and comfort, but deep down, I'd missed this side of him.

"Now," Haru continued, his tone becoming serious again as he gently brushed the back of his hand against my cheek, nuzzling it slightly. "Let's get back to the main point." He paused for a second and then said in a serious tone, "You don't have to face all these hardships alone. You can lean on me, Myung. Let me help you."

Was it really that easy? Can I rely on him once again? Could I let him bear the weight I'd carried for so long? For a moment, it felt like maybe... just maybe... I could.

*****

I sat aimlessly in front of the blank canvas, the brush limp in my right hand. The pristine white surface stared back at me, mocking my inability to create. It had been weeks, maybe months since I'd last painted anything meaningful. The slump I found myself in was suffocating, and no matter how hard I tried to shake it, the will to create refused to return. All I wanted was something—anything—to clear my restless mind, but every effort felt futile.

"Myung," my mom's voice called softly from behind the door, breaking through my spiraling thoughts.

Tilting my head toward the sound, I said, "Come in."

The door swung open, revealing my mom with Haru trailing behind her. "Haru's here to see you," she said, her smile warm and inviting.

Haru raised his free hand in greeting, his usual playful energy radiating from him. In his other hand, he held a white paper bag. "Hey Yo!" he chimed with a grin.

Huh? I stood up from my seat, brushing my hands on my pants before stepping toward them. "What are you doing here?" I asked; my tone was a mix of curiosity and surprise. It had only been a week since we had reconciled after years of distance.

Haru's smile widened, his excitement contagious. "I'm here to deliver some good news."

"I'll get some tea for you boys," Mom interjected cheerfully before leaving the room, giving us space.

I crossed my arms, watching him as he placed the bag carefully on my desk. "What kind of good news?" I arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.

Haru turned to face me, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "I'm getting promoted to the CEO position next month," he announced, stepping closer as if his excitement couldn't be contained.

I blinked, processing his words. "CEO?" I repeated, tilting my head to look at him.

"Yup," he confirmed, his grin unwavering. "Which means I'll need a new personal assistant. And guess who I suggested for the role?"

He grabbed my shoulders, his grip firm but full of energy. "You! The only thing left is for you to interview with the chairwoman. After that, it's all set." His face lit up with pride and excitement, clearly thrilled by the idea.

I stared at Haru, his words sinking in slowly like drops of water into dry soil. "Wait... what?" I finally managed to say, blinking up at him. "You want me to be your personal assistant?"

Haru grinned, giving my shoulders a slight shake. "Why not? You need a job, and I need someone I can trust completely. It's perfect."

I stepped back, freeing myself from his grasp as doubt clouded my mind. "But Haru... I don't have any experience! Isn't this a bit... out of my league?"

"You'll learn," Haru replied with a confident wave of his hand as if dismissing my concerns like they were minor inconveniences. "I know you're capable. Plus, I'll be there to teach you."

I frowned, crossing my arms. "And what about the chairwoman? What if she thinks I'm not qualified?"

Haru chuckled softly, leaning against my desk. "Myung, you're overthinking it. She trusts me, and I trust you. Just show up and be yourself."

"Be myself?" I muttered, feeling the weight of self-doubt pressing down. "What if I mess up? What if I embarrass both of us?"

Haru placed his hands on my arms again, his gaze firm and steady. "You won't!"

I looked down at the floor, my heart racing. Was I ready to take on something like this? Could I really step into a world so far removed from my current reality?

Haru squeezed my arms gently, his tone softening. "Myung, I wouldn't have brought this up if I didn't believe in you. Plus, I've always dreamed of working with you!"

I lifted my eyes to meet his, seeing the unwavering sincerity in them. A flicker of something I hadn't felt in a long time—hope—stirred within me. "Okay," I said hesitantly, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'll give it a shot."

Haru's face broke into a wide grin, and he pulled me into a tight hug. "That's my Miumiu! I promise you won't regret it."

As I stood there in his embrace, part of me still wondered if I'd made the right choice. But another part, the quiet one buried under years of doubt, whispered that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something new. Something better.

Haru stepped back from the hug, his hands lingering briefly on my shoulders before dropping to his side. A small smile curved his lips as he said, "Well, I've got to go now. I have a meeting this afternoon."

I watched as he turned and walked toward the door. Just as his hand grasped the door handle, he paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "Oh, and by the way, that paper bag on your desk is your gift for getting hired."

Before I could say anything, Haru flashed me one last grin and left the room; the soft click of the door echoing in the quiet space.

Curiosity bubbling in my chest, I turned my gaze to the white paper bag sitting innocently on my desk. I'm not even hired yet... Slowly, I approached the desk, feeling a strange mixture of anticipation and gratitude as I reached for the bag.

As I pulled the bag open, my eyes widened in surprise. Nestled inside was a sleek box featuring the logo of a high-end cellphone brand. I carefully removed the box, my hands trembling slightly as I realized what it was—a brand-new smartphone, the latest model.

For a moment, I just stared at it, a mix of emotions swirling within me. Haru knew about my broken phone, but I never expected him to go this far. The sheer thoughtfulness behind the gift left me speechless.

I sat down at my desk, running my fingers over the smooth surface of the box. A faint smile tugged at my lips. "You idiot..." I murmured under my breath, feeling a warmth in my chest that I hadn't felt in a long time.

He didn't just listen—he acted. In his own way, Haru was always looking out for me.

I thought my bright days were finally on their way, that the darkness I'd waded through was beginning to lift. I clung to that fragile, fleeting glimmer of hope like it was my lifeline.

How rashly I believed things could change just because a moment of kindness had been shown to me.

But hope, as I later learned, can be a double-edged sword. It gives you light, but it also blinds you to the shadows creeping in from behind.