CHAPTER IV: Memories that aren't forgotten

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The rain was soft that evening.

Not a downpour, not a storm—just enough to blur the city lights and remind you the world could cry too.

Tae was walking home from his shift, his hands in his pockets, the ache of hours worked still lingering in his bones. The streets were mostly empty, save for the two kids sprinting down the sidewalk without an umbrella—laughing, soaked, free.

Something about them snagged a memory.

Min-jae.

His birthday had always fallen on a rainy day, and he used to claim the skies cried because even the heavens missed him on that day.

Tae hadn’t thought of him in years. He never unfriended him online, never deleted the number, just... never used it.

But something pulled at him. Maybe it was the guilt. Maybe it was the sound of that laughter—that kind of joy that used to orbit around Min-jae. On impulse, Tae stopped by a tiny corner bakery and picked out a pastry. One candle. No note.

Just a peace offering years too late.

He searched for the address through old school forms and a half-burnt yearbook page. An apartment in a quiet part of town. He stood outside for a long while before finally ringing the bell.

A woman answered.

She didn’t recognize him at first. Then her eyes filled.

“You’re... Tae, aren’t you? Tae Dong-hwan?”

He nodded.

Her smile broke apart at the edges. “You’re late. Four years late.”

That’s when he found out. Min-jae was gone.

By suicide, they said.

But Tae knew the signs, and something in him refused to believe it was that simple. The bruises in the photos. The gaps in the police report. The silence around the name of the man Min-jae once said made his stomach twist in fear.

He left the pastry at the door and walked into the rain without opening his umbrella.

Just like Min-jae would've done...

BONUS: His Belka 

(A conversation between Dimitri and Rurik)

The office was cold and quiet.. Just like any other day. The only sound heard was that of the occasional flip of papers as Rurik overview the reports.. 

As Rurik sat in his office alone, he couldn't help but wonder about the little game yesterday.. Just then, someone knocked on the door and without waiting for an answer, walked into his office. It was Dimitri... Dimitri Vladimir, Rurik's right hand man.. 

Dimitri leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching his boss with something between wariness and amusement. 

"You look distracted.." Dimitri said finally, breaking the silence. 

Rurik didn't look up.  "I'm not."

Dimitri smirked. "Right. That's why you've read the same line three times"

Rurik turned the page. 

Dimitri stepped closer, picking up a story cigar cutter off the desk.. It's not like Rurik used one anyway.. Tossing it between his hands, he said- "Fine. Let's talk business then.. The shipment from Murmansk is late.. The usual contact's vanished, but we got eyes on a new guy in the port. Could be a problem."

Rurik gave a single nod. "Handle it quietly. Don't let it escalate."

"Already on it." Dimitri paused. "By the way, the Japanese want to renegotiate the Seoul deal."

"Tell them they'll get what was promised. No more, no less."

Another beat passed. Dimitri tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "What colour were his eyes again?"

Rurik glanced up. "Whose?"

"That Korean businessman from last night.. His name was Jin Hyun-wo I believe?"

"They're hazel.." 

"Hazel? As far as I remember, they were something dark right?"

"That was obviously a disguise Dimitri.. His eyes are hazel.. But not the dull kind. They change. When the light hits them just right, they look almost blue.. Like frozen lake water under morning frost.."

Dimitri raised a brow 

"And his hair.." Rurik continued, as if pulled forward by a thought he couldn't resist. "Caramel blonde that he  dyed black yesterday, maybe, but not messy. It suits him more than it should.."

He paused, his gaze drifting past Dimitri. 

"His skin... It's a warm tan. Like coffee with just enough cream.. Not too much, not too less. No visible scars. But he moves like someone who's used to pain. Someone who doesn't expect comfort."

Dimitri stared for a second too long, then gave a low whistle. "You remember all that from a two-minute encounter? And that too when he was in disguise?"

Rurik picked up an unlit cigar. He didn't answer. 

"You're really not distracted huh?" Dimitri muttered with a smirk, before heading for the door. "You've memorized the man like a poem.."

Rurik stayed quiet, eyes sharp now-focused again. 

But the way his fingers paused on the unlit cigar, just before setting it down, told a different story... 

Dimitri on the other hand, was satisfied with this new-found information.. Knowing he had fresh tea to spill in the office.