The drive to Kang Holdings was quiet. The rain from the morning had long since disappeared, leaving the city washed clean beneath a pale blue sky. Outside the window, cars filled the expressway and people hurried across intersections with coffee in hand, another workday settling over Seoul as though nothing in the world had changed.
In the back seat, Jihan sat with a tablet resting across one knee, reviewing quarterly reports, projected investments, and a proposal from the overseas division. He read every page twice, and by the time the sedan rolled beneath the company's underground entrance, every signature he needed to make had already been decided.
The driver stepped out first, opening the door with a quiet, "We're here, sir."
Jihan closed the tablet and got out. The lobby came alive the moment he entered, filled with a chorus of "Good morning, Director Kang," as employees bowed and stepped aside without being asked. It had always been that way; respect came easily when your surname was printed on the building itself. Acknowledging them with a small, practiced nod, he continued toward the executive elevators.
The meeting lasted nearly two hours, devolving into a familiar tug-of-war. One department wanted a larger marketing budget, but Finance disagreed, while another executive insisted that delaying the launch would reduce unnecessary losses. Someone else argued the exact opposite. Voices rose, charts changed, and numbers moved relentlessly across the large screen at the end of the conference room.
Jihan listened in silence until everyone had finished speaking. Only then did he close the file in front of him. "The launch proceeds. The marketing budget remains unchanged, and the overseas division absorbs the additional cost."
A man near the far end hesitated, leaning forward. "But Director Kang—"
"The overseas division exceeded projections last quarter," Jihan said, turning a page without looking up. "They can afford it."
The room fell instantly silent, followed by the predictable, sequential nodding of heads. The discussion moved on..
----
His secretary caught up with him the moment he stepped outside the conference room, handing him a fresh folder. "Director Kang, the legal department needs your approval before noon. You also have lunch with Managing Director Choi at one."
"Cancel it," Jihan said, accepting the folder without looking at it.
She blinked, pausing mid-step. "...Sir?"
"I'll review the documents instead."
"Understood." She made a quick note on her tablet before disappearing down the corridor.
Jihan entered his office, where floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked half the city. His desk was already immaculate, down to the fresh coffee someone had placed beside his laptop. Settling into his chair, he flipped open the legal documents, the crisp pages heavy under his hands. He read the first page and signed his name at the bottom, then moved through the second and third in a repetitive, mechanical blur of ink and clauses. But midway through the fourth page, his pen suddenly stopped.
For no reason he could explain, another face slipped quietly into his thoughts—dark hair, a sports shirt, and a quiet voice saying, "Then... thank you."
Jihan frowned faintly, his pen remaining suspended above the paper. A knock sounded against the office door, breaking the silence.
"Come in."
His secretary entered tentatively. "The chairman called."
Jihan looked up. "What did he want?"
"He didn't say."
"I'll return it later."
She nodded, asking if there was anything else, and left when he dismissed her. Once the office grew quiet again, Jihan looked back down at the contract, but the sentence he'd been reading no longer made sense. He read it a second time, but still, the words refused to click.
Instead, his eyes drifted toward the window. The university district wasn't even visible from this part of the city, yet somehow, the name *Lee Jae-min* surfaced anyway. Rubbing lightly at the bridge of his nose, Jihan forced his attention back to the document. Work first. Everything else later.
The afternoon passed the way most afternoons did, consumed by a steady stream of meetings, phone calls, signatures, and another endless cycle of proposals, disagreements, and decisions only he could make. By six o'clock, most of the executive floor had emptied, though his office lights were still burning bright.
The legal department had finally stopped sending files. Jihan closed the last folder and leaned back in his chair, exhaling as silence settled over the room for the first time since morning. Almost absently, he reached for his phone. His thumb hovered over the screen before opening the browser out of pure habit, his eyes settling on the empty search bar. He stared at the blank space for a moment, then locked the phone and tossed it aside.
"...Ridiculous," he muttered quietly, though even he wasn't entirely sure what the word referred to.
The driver was already waiting outside, opening the rear door the moment Jihan approached. He slid into the back seat, and the sedan eased away from the building into the thickening evening traffic. Red brake lights stretched endlessly ahead.
The driver glanced into the rearview mirror. "Straight home, sir?"
"...Yes."
The city drifted by beyond the window—restaurants, bookstores, and students crossing intersections in small, laughing groups. Without meaning to, Jihan found himself watching them. He was looking, not searching, just... looking. His gaze lingered a second longer than usual on a cluster of university kids before he finally looked away.
The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Jihan loosened his tie as he walked inside, letting his jacket land neatly over the arm of the sofa. He rolled his sleeves up to his forearms and headed toward the kitchen, where the coffee machine hummed softly into the silence.
Leaning one hand against the counter while he waited for the steam to curl upward, his phone buzzed in his pocket. *Father.* Jihan looked at the screen, watched it buzz a second time, and simply waited until the ringing stopped on its own.
Only then did he pour the coffee, the familiar bitterness settling comfortably on his tongue. He carried the mug toward the living room but stopped halfway when something caught his eye on the kitchen island.
It was a black sports wristband.
He frowned. He didn't remember bringing it upstairs. Perhaps it had been caught beneath the files in the car, or maybe... His eyes lingered on the stitched university emblem: *Haneul University*. For several quiet seconds, he simply looked at it before picking it up. It weighed almost nothing. His thumb brushed absentmindedly over the embroidered logo, and he set his mug down to walk over to the window.
The city shimmered beneath the evening lights, charting countless lives moving in countless directions. His phone buzzed once more, but this time it was his driver.
Jihan answered. "Yes?"
"Sir, I apologize for disturbing you," the driver said. "There appears to be a wristband left in the vehicle this morning. I was wondering if I should dispose of it."
Jihan looked down at the band currently resting in his own hand, a brief pause following the question. "...No. Keep it."
The driver sounded understandably confused. "Sir?"
Jihan's gaze remained fixed on the lights outside. "It belongs to someone."
"...Understood."
The call ended, and the apartment fell silent again. Jihan stood there for another minute, looking out at the city before speaking to the empty room. "...Lee Jae-min."
The unfamiliar name sounded strangely natural in the quiet space. He frowned at himself almost immediately, but with a quiet shake of his head, he placed the wristband carefully on the shelf beside the window as though it belonged there. He never questioned why.