“You’re no different from Mom, are you?”

No, that couldn’t be true… It couldn’t possibly be.

Heeju nervously watched her sister as the sound of raindrops hitting the umbrella echoed around them. The surgery had been a success, and her hearing should be fine now.

But why… does she look so dried up?

Was this really how her sister used to look?

A strange sense of incongruity crept over her. Hong In-ah’s complexion seemed more unstable and precarious now than it had even been in their childhood.

“Still, I wanted to come back because of you.”

“…”

“You don’t actually think the spot you took is really yours, do you?”

It wasn’t a question. The words, barbed and sharp, pierced Heeju squarely.

“Don’t delude yourself.”

Her hand flinched, trembling as though struck by a spasm.

“Children only see what they want to see.”

In-ah pressed the umbrella into Heeju’s hand as she spoke.

Then she stepped out from under its cover, letting the rain soak her.

Startled, Heeju moved toward her, but In-ah shook her head. A silent rejection.

“You always liked The Little Mermaid when you were a child.”

“…”

The remark came out of nowhere.

“Did you ever wonder, though? Between the two of us—who couldn’t speak—who was closer to the real Little Mermaid?”

Heeju desperately wanted to understand her sister, but In-ah’s thoughts were a tangled web she couldn’t unravel.

When she couldn’t answer, her sister gave a faint, sardonic smile.

“Not you, Heeju.”

“...!”

Hong In-ah’s eyes darkened.

Hostility.

As someone who had spent her whole life serving as her sister’s mouthpiece, Heeju could never fail to recognize it.

It was a stark, unmistakable enmity, sharp enough to make her flinch.

Her chest ached.

“Even when the mermaid’s sisters traded their hair for a dagger, the one who couldn’t pierce the prince’s heart was always useless.”

The cryptic words felt like a puzzle.

But at the same time, they sounded like a declaration of war.

“When I said I was sorry for being late, I meant it.”

Her sister turned her back without hesitation, standing in the rain.

“You’ve done well, holding out for me all this time.”

***

The whole day felt heavy and sluggish.

More than ten missed calls were logged, and her sister's messages had piled up. Yet, she didn’t want to respond to any of them.

“Maybe… divorce will be easier than I thought… even without me trying too hard.”

The light drizzle had turned into a downpour before she even noticed.

If that was the case, shouldn’t she be celebrating instead of feeling so miserable?

Heeju forced herself to lighten her mood and headed to the kitchen.

She didn’t have the energy to cook, so she just opened the fridge and grabbed a beer.

On the TV she’d turned on to drown out the silence, an edited clip of the president's special address and a Q&A with the Blue House spokesperson was playing.

“Ms. Hong In-ah from Myungji Daily.”

The sound of the beer can she was opening stopped mid-pop.

Heeju paused, silently searched for the remote, and muted the television. The world was quiet again.

She slumped in front of the large window overlooking the Han River.

Watching the rain streak down the glass, it felt just like that day. The day she resolved to get divorced…

“Cheers…”

And then came ten o’clock.

A familiar hour.

Everything felt pointless.

As her fingers idly fidgeted with the negotiation phone, the image of Baek Saeon’s bruised fingernails from the briefing earlier came to mind.

Not just one or two, but several were discolored.

“What happened to him?”

And that goldfish head… What was that about?

Caught up in her thoughts, Heeju downed the beer in one go and picked up her phone.

Maybe this is the last time I’ll call.

―…

The line connected with a faint click, but there was no response. They both simply listened to each other’s breathing.

Heeju was the first to move her lips, gazing aimlessly at the foggy window.

“How was your day?”

Just an ordinary, mundane question.

My mood was strange today…

I felt like crying a little.

What about you?

She wanted to say it all, but the words remained trapped inside.

―…

“…”

All that came through both receivers was the sound of rain.

And that was fine, she thought.

If this was the last time, the atmosphere was strangely fitting.

―“I’ve hated rainy days since I was a child.”

A low, cracked voice broke through at last.

―“The water… I hated that fishy smell.”

The words felt oddly familiar. She vaguely recalled a boy who had once said he hated water.

―“When I was a kid, I went fishing with my grandfather.”

“…”

―“He loved fishing, so we often went to the river. One day, I fell into the water…”

His voice suddenly halted.

The pounding of the rain was relentless. Heeju couldn’t tell if the noise came from her side or his, but it was all-encompassing.

―“Since then, I’ve had recurring nightmares.”

“…”

―“I dream of sinking deep into a red river.”

For the first time, it felt like she had stepped into his world.

―“Through the shimmering water above me, my grandfather is looking down, and beside him, a little boy watches me silently as I drown.”

Thunder cracked sharply overhead.

Heeju instinctively flinched, her shoulders tightening.

―“…Maybe I’ve feared this my entire life,” he continued quietly.

“…”

―“Afraid it might all flip over again.”

She couldn’t fully understand his nightmares. But tonight, in this moment, she wanted to try.

Knowing Baek Saeon had fears of his own, fears as real as hers, somehow made the chasm between them feel smaller.

“It’s okay,” she said softly.

―“Then sing me a song.”

“What?”

―“A song.”

“I can’t sing well… Why?”

―“When I was young, there was a moment I couldn’t bear. I hid in an alley, trying to catch my breath, and a little kid started singing a nursery rhyme to me.”

“…”

―“Strangely enough, that night, the nightmare went away.”

He let out a dry, brittle laugh.

―“Maybe it was because their voice was pretty.”

“Then go find that kid. Why ask me to sing?”

―“Aren’t we practically lovers, Sa Gong-yuk and I?”

“Cough, cough…!”

Caught off guard by his brazen comment, she choked.

―“We’ve done things with our mouths. How hard can singing be?”

“…”

Suddenly, she remembered something she’d pushed to the back of her mind.

Right… this is exactly how he played around with his mistress.

Her brow twitched.

“I don’t do that.”

―“Do what?”

She crushed the empty beer can in her hand.

“Be like my dad. Let myself get pushed around.”

…Or love someone. The last part she swallowed down.

―“Then don’t.”

“…”

His calm agreement left her at a loss for words.

―“Just live however you want.”

Her heart unexpectedly sank.

―“But Sa Gong-yuk is too charming for people not to like him. Even if you live differently from your dad, find someone who can love you just as much as he did.”

Something inside her gave way.

―“From now on, meet a man like that. Someone who can give you that kind of love.”

Live differently from her dad… but still receive that kind of love?

It was something she had never even considered.

In a strange way, Baek Saeon handed her what she had been trying to throw away.

Even as she held the phone, it felt as though his reflection was there in the window.

That sense of being together.

It was a mysterious feeling.

“When are you… coming home?”

And she found herself wishing for the downpour to last all night.

―“Now.”

***

Before long, a man, drenched to the bone, stepped into the living room with wet, deliberate strides.

Heeju was in the middle of cracking open another can of beer.

Hearing the faint sound of footsteps, she turned her head, only to find him already close.

“...!”

His face looked pushed to its limits.

It seemed suppressed, or perhaps violently desperate. For someone always so expressionless, the impression felt startlingly raw.

His suit, soaked and darkened by the rain, clung to him like ink spreading on paper, while his hair dripped in disarray.

Cold breaths clashed against the burning intensity in his eyes.

The moment she caught sight of his pale, bloodless face and lips—

Heeju’s mind wavered.

She was standing right there too, exactly in that place he was now.

So when a raindrop fell from his hair, sliding past his lashes and down his cheek, the hand she reached out was driven by reckless impulse.

Before either of them could claim to have moved first, their lips collided.

Yes, at least once… I need to have you for myself.

Only then will it feel less unfair.

It was a moment where self-destruction and comfort coexisted.

“Mm…!”

To her surprise, his lips trembled faintly. His body, pressed against hers, shivered intermittently.

But their lips pressed closer, with their tongues tangling fiercely.

Despite his chilled skin, his breath burned feverishly hot.

He clung to her as if holding on for dear life. There was an incomprehensible desperation in his embrace.

His unease felt contagious.

And then, she remembered a boy sobbing beneath a wall, stifling his cries. The boy who had covered her young eyes with his trembling hands while spitting curses.

Not knowing what else to do, she wrapped her arms around his broad back.

She had thought that boy, shrouded in a cold shell, had long vanished without a trace.

This time, it was Heeju who reached up and covered his bloodshot, stormy eyes with her small hands.

“...!”

Their lips froze for a moment. She felt him flinch, his body stiffening.

This was all she could offer him for now.

“...!”

Suddenly, his strong arms swept her off the ground effortlessly.

Before she had the chance to react, he found her lips again, his kiss rough and consuming. The intensity of his desire felt like it might tear her apart.

Before she knew it, they were in the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed.

Baek Saeon loomed over her, his body pressing against hers, tugging at her top with barely restrained urgency.

He bit down on her collarbone, his lips brushing against her forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of her nose.

Each teasing touch sent her breathing into an unsteady rhythm.