Seojun narrowed his eyes. "A condition?"
Haneul placed the mug down and met his gaze.
"Make another one."
He blinked. "...Huh?"
"The coffee." She nudged the cup slightly. "I don't like it."
Seojun stared at her, waiting for her to say something else—maybe a joke, a smirk, anything—but her expression remained unreadable.
A small twitch formed at the corner of his eye.
"You—" He exhaled sharply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You could've said that earlier."
"You didn't ask."
Seojun clenched his jaw for a second before forcing a smile. "Fine. Something else, then."
He turned back to the counter, muttering under his breath. This girl...
Grinding fresh beans, he adjusted the brew strength, adding a touch of milk this time. Maybe she wasn't a fan of straight black coffee. He slid the new cup in front of her, crossing his arms.
"Try this."
Haneul took a sip.
A pause.
Then, she set the cup down. "Still no."
Seojun's smile twitched.
"Alright. Sure. No problem," he said through gritted teeth.
He grabbed another cup. Maybe a latte? He frothed the milk carefully, making sure it was smooth and creamy. A perfect balance.
He slid the cup toward her, resting his hands on his hips. "This one."
Haneul took another sip.
Silence.
She tilted her head.
"Still no."
Seojun inhaled sharply through his nose.
"Okay. Okay." He turned back to the counter, cracking his knuckles. "You wanna play it like that? Fine."
An americano. A cappuccino. A mocha. A caramel macchiato. Even a matcha latte—even though it wasn't technically coffee.
Each time, she took a single sip. Each time, she simply shook her head.
By the time the sixth cup was rejected, Seojun slammed his hands on the counter, genuinely distressed.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!"
Haneul blinked.
Seojun ran a hand through his hair, eyes wild. He had never failed to please a customer before. Was this girl sent by the universe to humble him?!
Haneul glanced at the cups lined up in front of her.
Then, with the same unreadable expression, she quietly pushed the second cup—the one he had made right after the first—back toward him.
"This one."
Seojun froze.
"...You're kidding."
Haneul shook her head. "It was the best one."
His eye twitched. "THEN WHY DID YOU MAKE ME—?!"
"You didn't ask," she said, taking another sip.
Seojun slumped against the counter, gripping his head.
This girl was a menace.
Haneul finished her drink, then looked at him. "Now I won't tell anyone."
Seojun lifted his head, expression hollow.
"...I feel like I just got scammed."
Seojun groaned, lightly banging his forehead against the counter. "I hope she never comes back."
Haneul, already near the door, paused. "I will come back."
Seojun lifted his head slowly, staring at her as if she had just announced she was from another planet.
"...Excuse me?"
Haneul adjusted her glasses. "I'll keep your café a secret. But I want to come here. Whenever I want."
Seojun opened his mouth, then closed it. Opened it again. No words came out.
This had to be a joke.
He glanced around the café, half-expecting hidden cameras. Was this a prank? A cruel twist of fate? Some kind of karmic punishment for all the homework he'd done for money?
"Why?" he finally asked, his voice almost pleading.
Haneul simply blinked. "I like it here."
"You—" Seojun dragged a hand down his face. "You barely reacted to my coffee. You made me brew six different cups just to settle on the second one. You interrogated me about my entire existence. And now you're saying you like it here?"
"Yes."
Seojun let out a short, disbelieving laugh. "What part, exactly?"
Haneul glanced around. "It's quiet. No one's here. And..." She met his gaze, violet eyes steady. "You don't treat me like I'm fragile."
Seojun faltered.
For the first time since she entered, something in her expression shifted. Subtle. Almost imperceptible. But there.
Something real.
He exhaled sharply. "...You're serious?"
"Yes."
Seojun groaned, pressing his forehead against the counter again.
What kind of person just claimed a secret café as their own?!
Haneul turned toward the door. "I'll come back tomorrow."
Seojun lifted his head, exasperated. "I didn't even say yes!"
Haneul gave him a single glance before stepping out into the night.
"You will."
The door shut behind her.
Seojun stared after her.
Then, after a long pause, he slumped against the counter again, muttering, "I'm doomed."
The café door shut behind her, leaving Seojun staring after her retreating figure.
His mind buzzed.
Tomorrow?
He let out a slow breath and rubbed his temple.
"…What the hell did I just agree to?"
---
Seojun locked up the café a little later than usual. His mind was still stuck on what had just happened.
Haneul was coming back.
Not "maybe" coming back. Not "if she felt like it."
She had said it like a fact. Like it was already decided.
Seojun exhaled, shoving his hands in his pockets as he started walking.
He had bigger things to worry about right now.
Like getting home to Bomi.
The streets were quieter now, most students already home or at cram school. The air had cooled, and Seojun picked up his pace, cutting through familiar backstreets.
After a few minutes, he reached the small apartment complex they lived in. It wasn't much, but it was home.
Seojun climbed the stairs two at a time, stopping in front of their door. He adjusted his expression before unlocking it.
The moment he stepped inside, a small voice greeted him.
"Oppa!"
Seojun barely had time to react before a tiny figure crashed into his legs.
He chuckled, reaching down to ruffle Bomi's soft hair. "Hey, squirt. You eat yet?"
Bomi grinned up at him, her chubby cheeks slightly puffed out. "Uh-huh! Ahjumma brought kimbap again!"
Seojun made a mental note to thank their elderly neighbor later. "Good. Brushed your teeth?"
Bomi hesitated.
Seojun raised an eyebrow.
With a guilty giggle, Bomi turned and ran toward the bathroom. "I'm going now~!"
Seojun smirked as he set his bag down.
This was the part of the day he looked forward to the most.
No pretending. No expectations.
Just him and his little sister.
He walked to the tiny kitchen, checking what they had left in the fridge. Not much, but he could make it work.
"Oppa!" Bomi's voice rang from the bathroom. "Did you bring me something?"
Seojun winced. He usually grabbed a small treat for her on the way home, but with everything that happened today…
"I'll bring you something tomorrow," he called back.
There was a pause.
Then—
"Two things!"
Seojun sighed. "One."
"Two!"
He chuckled. "Fine, two."
A satisfied hum came from the bathroom.
Shaking his head, Seojun sat on the couch, finally letting himself relax.
Tomorrow.
He'd deal with Haneul tomorrow.
For now, he was home.
---
Seojun sat on the couch, running a hand through his hair. The weight of the day pressed down on him, heavier than usual.
He could hear Bomi humming from the bathroom, the soft splash of water as she washed her hands. The familiar sounds of home.
His eyes felt heavier.
Maybe just a few minutes…
He leaned back, letting his head rest against the cushion. The room blurred at the edges as his breathing slowed.
Then—
[ 0.001% of memory syncing ]
A whisper. A flicker.
"…what type of pastry do you like?"
A voice, gentle yet distant.
Seojun saw himself sitting in a café—not his café, but somewhere familiar. The light was soft, the air carrying the faint scent of freshly baked bread.
Across from him, a girl.
Her face was unclear, like a smudged painting, but he could make out the dark shape of her wavy hair.
"Anything is fine," he heard himself say with a smile.
A pause.
"Just anything?"
The voice was amused, questioning.
"Yes. Anything…"
The warmth of the moment lingered, but something about it felt… off. Faintly melancholic.
Like he had said those words before.
Like he had lost something.
Seojun's fingers twitched against the couch fabric. His heart was starting to beat faster.
Who was she?
Why did this feel so real?
[ Memory syncing incomplete. ]
The dream wavered—
And then he woke up.
A small hand was shaking his shoulder.
"Oppa," Bomi's voice was gentle, laced with concern. "You fell asleep again."
Seojun blinked, his mind still caught between the past and the present.
Had he… dreamed just now?
His chest felt tight, but he didn't know why.
Forcing a small smile, he reached out and flicked Bomi's forehead lightly. "Go to bed, squirt. It's late."
She pouted but obeyed, toddling off to their shared bedroom.
Seojun exhaled.
That dream…
It wasn't normal.
But he had no idea what it meant.
Seojun lay awake in the dim glow of the apartment, staring at the ceiling. His heart had settled, but the strange weight in his chest remained.
That dream—no, that memory.
Because that's what it had felt like. Not just a dream, not some random creation of his mind, but something real. Something he had experienced before.
But that didn't make sense.
The girl in the dream—he didn't recognize her, but the moment had felt too familiar. Like a scene replaying from a past he couldn't recall.
His fingers curled into the blanket. [0.001% of memory syncing.] The words had appeared so clearly in his mind. What did it mean? Why had he seen it?
He shut his eyes, exhaling through his nose.
"Too much thinking," he muttered to himself. "It's just stress. Just exhaustion."
That had to be it. The café, school, looking after Bomi—it was a lot. And today had been weirder than usual. Haneul finding the café, demanding to return. That alone was enough to throw him off-balance. His brain was just… overworked.
Tomorrow, everything would go back to normal.
With that thought, he forced himself to turn over, facing the small sleeping form of Bomi beside him. Her tiny hand clutched the edge of his sleeve, as if making sure he wouldn't disappear in the night.
His expression softened. Slowly, the tension drained from his shoulders. No matter what weird dreams he had, this was real. His little sister, his life now—this was what mattered.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep came hesitantly, but this time, there were no strange dreams.
---
The next morning, Seojun woke to the familiar weight of Bomi sprawled half on top of him, her face buried against his arm. He groaned, shifting slightly. "Squirt, wake up."
Bomi mumbled something incomprehensible and clung tighter.
Seojun sighed, rubbing his eyes. His mind was still foggy from sleep, but there was no lingering heaviness. Whatever had happened last night, it wasn't affecting him now.
Good.
Pushing aside the thoughts, he sat up carefully, detangling himself from Bomi's grip. "I'm making breakfast," he said. "You coming?"
At the mention of food, Bomi cracked one eye open. "Pancakes?"
Seojun smirked. "Rice and eggs."
Bomi let out a dramatic sigh but rolled out of bed anyway.
Seojun chuckled, shaking his head as he moved toward the kitchen. The normalcy of the morning grounded him. This was his life. He didn't have time to dwell on strange dreams or weird coincidences.
Except, as he cracked an egg into the pan, his fingers paused for just a second.
Wavy hair. A voice asking him about pastries. A quiet warmth.
A name lingered on the edge of his mind.
He just couldn't remember it.