TW 15

Chapter 15

“The Lee Danbi I know likes me.”

That was how it was supposed to be.

In the past and even now, Lee Danbi was supposed to like Han Hae-il. He had not been pleased to see her associating with some strange good-for-nothing at the company dinner, but what really twisted his insides was the fact that she was looking at him with such an indifferent expression.

Come to think of it, Lee Danbi had always been something of a variable in his life.

Hae-il’s parents had always told him, almost like a mantra, that a man needed to have big dreams. And just like his parents, Hae-il himself had been born with ambitions that reached for the heavens, along with an almost suffocating possessiveness toward anything he wanted to have.

Going to the United States had been partly his father’s suggestion, but Hae-il himself had also been consumed by a thirst to test his limits on a bigger stage. So he had left without hesitation.

He was the kind of person who could not rest until he had obtained whatever he wanted, regardless of the means or methods required.

Once he started something, he pursued it relentlessly until he saw it through to the very end. As a result, Hae-il’s life had generally proceeded smoothly according to the blueprint he had drawn for himself.

Generally.

That was how it had been.

―They say there are people who live by feeding on memories, don’t they? On some day when you’re suddenly tired and exhausted, a fragment of a memory unexpectedly comes to mind. They say that moment was perhaps the happiest time of your life. What memory has come to mind for you now? When was it, and who were you with?

The trigger had been something incredibly trivial.

One day, after selling the company he had painstakingly built for a satisfying price and drinking celebratory drinks late into the night with the business partners who had shared the long journey with him, he returned home and casually turned on the radio.

And there was the question.

A race toward a goal, followed by another race.

Those had been the years he had spent running forward without ever stopping to look back.

When human beings race ahead so breathlessly, there are moments when they suddenly want to turn around and look at the path they have traveled.

Sometimes, looking at the starting line that had grown impossibly distant fills them with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment.

Other times, they are swallowed by an inexplicable emptiness and a longing they cannot quite put into words.

Where, exactly, had his own starting point been—the starting point of a life in which he had only ever moved forward?

When he quietly closed his eyes and traveled back up the river of his memories, the face of one girl inevitably appeared.

You like me, don’t you?

Of all the fragments of memory, that scene alone was unusually vivid.

Why had that particular moment come back to him?

Perhaps it was because the face that girl had shown him then, and the naked wave of emotion that had surged through her, had been etched into his life like an indelible mark.

Looking back, Han Hae-il’s life back then had been pretty good.

When he had been with her, he vaguely remembered an exhilarating, unpredictable kind of pleasure that never seemed to end.

It was strange.

Of all the dazzling successes and achievements he had accumulated since then, the brief but intense sensations that girl had given him during those days somehow felt more vivid and meaningful.

Was it merely the romanticization of the past?

Or had everything simply seemed new and enormous because he had been young and inexperienced?

Whatever the reason, he missed those days terribly.

Yet the fact that even the girl’s face, and even the colors of those once-vivid emotions, had now become hazy as though obscured by fog irritated him for some reason.

What did she look like again?

How did she smile?

How did her face redden?

And why had you been the first person to come to mind?

I was the one who received all that overflowing love from you.

You were the one who had loved me so desperately.

No matter how many times he turned it over in his mind, the equation did not add up.

There was no way I could have been wrong.

He could not stand this unpleasant imbalance.

He had to go and confirm it immediately.

He needed to see that face that had always flushed whenever she faced him, just once more with his own eyes.

He needed to engrave those trembling eyelashes and reddened earlobes, which had once kept her from properly raising her head out of shyness, clearly into his retinas and prove beyond a doubt that his memories—and his position of superiority—had not changed.

And while he was at it, he intended to make her experience bitter regret.

He would make her cry herself hoarse, pounding the ground and wondering:

Why didn’t I grab onto this man’s pant leg?

Why did I dare turn away first?

Even imagining it made the corners of Hae-il’s lips curl into a crooked smile.

The intense interest he had not felt in years mixed with the drunkenness rising all the way to his head, filling him with such reckless confidence that he felt as though he could overturn the entire world right then and there.

But reality was cold.

Hae-il had absolutely no idea where Danbi was.

Immediately after arriving in the United States, he had tried dialing her number.

All he had received in response was the cold mechanical voice telling him that the number was no longer in service.

In the end, perhaps that was all their relationship had amounted to.

A connection that could easily be severed once the physical distance between them grew too great.

Perhaps it had been light and shallow from the very beginning.

Just as he began thinking spitefully about giving up on everything because of the irritation rising inside him once again, however, an old stubbornness surged vividly to life.

He absolutely had to see her regretful face.

How am I supposed to find her?

He had been the only friend she had.

Even if he dug through his yearbook and made inquiries among their former classmates, there was no way anyone would know where she was.

From that day onward, Hae-il began blindly searching for the username “Lee Danbi” on the social media platform with the largest number of users.

There were countless accounts belonging to people with the same name.

He checked them one by one with horrifying persistence.

While chewing sandwiches during lunch.

While swirling a glass of wine after dinner.

During the brief breaks when he had a moment to catch his breath.

Even while lying in bed before going to sleep, his fingers never stopped.

After wasting an entire month like that, a foreboding thought suddenly crossed his mind.

What if she isn’t even part of this digital world?

Looking back, Danbi had never particularly enjoyed taking pictures, nor was she the type to want to display the trivial details of her daily life to countless strangers.

Should I give up now?

Just as a dispirited sigh escaped him, he finally found her.

It was an account that looked utterly ordinary and dry, with nothing but a single group photograph, seemingly taken at a workshop, as its only post.

Joy exploded from his fingertips.

No matter how well you hide, you’re still in the palm of my hand.

How could Lee Danbi ever beat Han Hae-il?

The profile contained only one short, emotionless sentence:

Lee Danbi, Development Team 1, LD

LD?

“Me? Just…… getting into a big company?”

A fragment of an old conversation, faded like an old film, suddenly replayed vividly in his mind.

Hae-il let out a hollow laugh without realizing it.

In the end, both he and she had apparently lived their lives more or less according to plan.

Their methods had been different, but the result was the same.

For some reason, that realization gave him a strange feeling.

Hae-il enlarged the tiny group photograph as much as possible with his finger.

The pixels became horribly distorted and blurry, but he could still recognize her.

It was Danbi.

Without a doubt, it was the Danbi he remembered.

Dad’s company, huh.

A cynical smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

No way.

No, that can’t be it.

But the thought that immediately followed only inflated his sense of superiority to its fullest.

She had been waiting.

Unable to find a way to contact him directly, she must have been holding her place like a lighthouse, clinging to the faint hope that one day he would come looking for her.

Otherwise, why, out of all those countless major corporations, would she have ended up at LD?

And not merely at LD, but as a developer?

The answer was painfully obvious.

There was no other possibility in Hae-il’s mind.

Ah, poor Lee Danbi.

She was so pitiful that a quiet laugh escaped him.

The tip of his foot began tapping rhythmically.

It was the kind of thrilling, twisted sense of superiority he had not felt in a very long time.

How desperately must she have missed me and waited for me all these years?

After waiting for more than ten years, I suppose she deserves to see my face properly at least once.

After all, wasn’t that what made life worth living?

A miracle was supposed to happen at least once in a person’s life.

Hae-il immediately sent his father a short message.

I want to parachute in.

Landing site: Development Team 1 Team Leader

Urgent.

He sent it, then booked a first-class ticket to Korea.

Not long afterward, the reply he had been waiting for arrived.

His father’s response to his over-thirty-year-old son’s absurd and childish request was extremely concise and clear.

You crazy bastard.

Throughout the flight to Korea, Hae-il could think of nothing but Danbi.

What does she look like now?

Was she still as shy and awkward as she had been in high school?

Or had ten years completely transformed her into someone else?

Either way, he thought it would be interesting.

On his first day at work, Hae-il deliberately took his time.

He planned to make his entrance like the protagonist of a carefully scripted play, appearing precisely when the tension and curiosity among the team members waiting for their new team leader had reached its peak.

A perfectly tailored black suit.

His hair styled with more care than usual.

Everything about him radiated the image of a successful man.

The sound of his dress shoes stopped in front of the conference room where Development Team 1 had gathered.

Lee Danbi is in there.

Hae-il took a short breath to steady himself.

Then, with a relaxed smile on his lips, he entered without hesitation.

“I’m Han Hae-il. Starting today, I’ll be in charge of Development Team 1.”

Hae-il casually accepted the gazes directed toward him and slowly swept his eyes across the team members.

And finally, his search stopped at one place.

A woman who had frozen upon seeing him.

Her atmosphere was far more mature than it had been during high school, yet there was something unmistakably familiar about her.

A silhouette he had searched for so relentlessly.

Danbi.

Hae-il did not take his eyes off her face.

Even after all those years, traces of the youthful girl from high school still remained on her features.

The same fair, clear skin.

Slightly rounded eyes.

A neatly raised nose.

And now, the expression of surprise and nervousness caused by his completely unexpected appearance.

A deep sense of satisfaction surged from within his chest.

It was the fulfillment felt by a hunter who had finally obtained his target after years of waiting and relentless pursuit.

At the same time, it was a thrilling pleasure born from watching her vivid reaction—a kind of feeling of conquest.

Yes.

This was the face.

The face he had wanted so desperately to see again.

That complex, subtle expression mixed with confusion, surprise, and perhaps even the slightest hint of happiness at seeing him.

Hae-il slowly approached her and extended his hand as though he knew nothing.

“Ah…… I’m Lee Danbi from Development Team 1.”

Hae-il deepened the smile at the corner of his lips and shook her hand.

“Ah, nice to meet you, Ms. Danbi.”

Holding her small hand firmly, Hae-il quietly whispered to himself.

Be happy, Danbi.

Your first love has returned in the most spectacular way possible.