The Algorithm of Spring

114

In the hallway, Yeon-joo gave her a sudden hug. "Gomawo," she whispered, the thank-you heavy with meaning.

Maya held her close. "How are you doing? Really?"

Yeon-joo considered. "Better," she said. "Finding my way back."

When she was gone, Jun-ho lingered by the stairwell. "I should go too," he said, though he didn't move.

"Or we could take a walk," Maya offered. "There's a convenience store around the corner. They have ice cream."

                                                                                               ***

The night air carried a hint of autumn. They walked in comfortable silence through streets Maya had known forever—a familiar bakery, an old laundry, the same flickering streetlight.

The convenience store's harsh light spilled onto the sidewalk. Inside, a bored clerk scrolled through his device. They picked out two corn-shaped ice creams, their yellow and green packaging unchanged since childhood.

They sat on a low wall opposite the store. The ice cream was sweet, the hollow centre as satisfying as ever. Above them, a few persistent stars pierced Seoul's haze.

"Yeon-joo seems good," Maya said.

Jun-ho nodded. "She does," he said, the relief in his voice unmistakable.

"What comes next for you?"

"I've had a few offers. Independent art dealing. Maybe international." He watched a cat disappear between cars. "Working with people who actually have something to say." He met her eyes. "You?"

"I'm considering what matters most."

"You'll find your way," he said. "You always do."

The clerk's radio played a soft ballad, its melody drifting out to wrap around them.

"I've been thinking about Richards," Maya admitted into the quiet.

"Not his offer. His network. What I could do with it."

Jun-ho raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"Taking his resources to fund what he tried to crush? I like it."

The breeze shifted, carrying the scent of grilled meat and garlic from an open window.

Maya crumbled the last of her cone into her palm. "Strange, isn't it? Everything's changed, but still so ordinary."

"That's how real change works," Jun-ho said. "Not a revolution. Just a new normal that stays."

"We should head back," Maya said, though neither of them moved.

His fingers brushed against hers, a brief touch, before finding them in the dark and lacing through them.

"In a minute," he said.

They sat like that, hands linked, while the neighbourhood hummed its quiet, nightly song around them.

A small moment. Entirely theirs.