“So I don’t have to contact him?”

          “The studio’s latest email confirms that he’d be going, though. But if you want to recheck, just do it.” Sakura says over the phone.

          If the email said so, then I’ll just wait… I’ll contact him if he’s late. I exhale, and vapor comes out from my mouth. I have another hand inside my pocket, protecting it from the chilly fall weather.

          It’s evening in Seoul, and I’m on my way to the appointed restaurant after checking in the hotel for the conference. I walk along the street which is scattered with yellow fallen leaves under the darkening sky, and compare it with my memory of spring here a few months ago. It’s colder and drier now.

          I arrive in front of the restaurant, a Japanese eatery that’s personally picked by the CEO. It is said to his favorite restaurant in Korea. “Hello. I have a reservation for 7.30 PM.”

          “Name, please?”

          “Asahi Nanami.”

          The waiter behind the counter furrows his brows, tracing his finger on the guest book.

          “Um—Choi Nana?”

          He raises his eyebrows and nods. I didn’t think Sakura would use my Korean name for this. He asks me to follow him, and on a far corner of the area separated from the individual tables we stop in front of a wooden sliding door. He expertly opens it, and the waiter leaves me alone.

          I hang my coat and look at the prepared table which is filled with Japanese delicacy. I sit above the cushion on a side of the table, and take a deep breath. I look around the small room. It reminds me of the seaside restaurant in Jeju from last time, only of course this one is more luxurious in light brown color with shiny wooden wall, overhead lamp covered with thick white parchment paper to give off a calm atmosphere from the light, and a beautiful pot of dark-colored dry flowers on a corner.

          I look at my watch, and there's still five minutes to the time. I open my bag, and see the fresh book, still in its plastic wrap. This is supposed to be a happy occasion…

          As I emptily look at the book, the sliding door opens and a waiter appears, signaling someone to come inside. I grit my teeth, and my insides start getting jumpy.

          Jongdae appears, and he’s noticeably different in shorter hair which emphasizes his face outline. He’s dressed in a medium-length navy-colored jacket with light grey sweater beneath, fitted khaki pants, and brown loafers. Our eyes meet, and I try so hard to generate a smile.

          He removes his shoes, and steps inside the room. He returns my smile, and we shake hands. "Have you been well?"

          I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. After clearing my throat, I attempt to speak again. "Very well. How about you?"

          He just nods with a smile. I direct him to his seat, and we face each other separated by the table.

          "Thank you for coming tonight. My CEO relays his gratitude and apologizes for not meeting you in person."

          "Ah, no." Jongdae shakes his head. "He must be busy."

          "Then, if I may..." I take out the book, and give it to him. "Here's the finished version of the travel book that we worked on together back in spring."

          I expected a reaction, but he's barely changing his expression. He bows and receives the book. “Thank you. I’ll read it well.”

          He puts his book inside his backpack and zips it close. That’s it? He’s not going to open the book and comment something? “The CEO has high praises about your photos.”

          He finally smiles a little. “I’m grateful.”

          Still nothing? Well then. “Please dig in.”

          We start to eat, and the first minutes are filled with complete silence. We had countless meals when we worked together, and even our first meal wasn’t this awry. I glance around, and decide to ask him something.

          “How is your camera?”

          Jongdae stops eating, and looks at me. He turns to his backpack, and takes out his camera from its bag. The broken screen that I saw last time is good as new. “As I mentioned in the email, it’s fine.”

          “I want to know if I can—”

          “Nana-ssi.” Jongdae firmly cuts in. “You’d know better that I’d rather not talk about it.”

          The cool sashimi feels extremely cold inside my mouth, and I force myself to chew it as I nod. “I’m very sorry.”

          Jongdae just nods while looking at the floor.

          “Are you in Korea just to give the book?” he asks.

          “I’m actually here for a conference. I’m going back on Saturday.”

          “Oh.” Jongdae nods. “Where will it be?”

          “Park Hyatt, near here. I walked from the hotel before.”

          “It’s quite near from my studio too, a bus stop away.” his tone is getting a bit cheerier. “Come by if you want.”

          I blink, and smile awkwardly. That’s probably not a real invitation.

          We continue eating, and Jongdae finishes first. He looks around the room and observes the interior. “It’s such a nice room.”

          I sip some water, and nod slowly. I raise my chopsticks again even though I’m full, just to do something.

          “Your hair grew longer.” Jongdae says.

          I halt my movement. Jongdae is looking at me, and I put down my hand. “And you cut your hair.”

          Nothing is spoken for the next few seconds. I look at my lap, and carefully open my mouth.

          “I came here thinking you hated me, or worst-case scenario, you weren’t going to show up.”

          Jongdae straightens his back, and exhales. “I don’t hate you.”

          “Then don’t you have something you want to say to me?”

          “Nana…” his soft tone throbs me in the chest. “I can only apologize. I hurt you that time, and thought it’d be best if time passed long enough and you didn’t hear from me.”

          I look at him in disbelief for a few seconds.

          “Listen.” I cut the silence in the room. ”We spent literally almost 24 hours a day together for weeks. You might have had other projects but I still continued revising, going to meetings, and finalizing this book for months after spring. Do you think I can forget easily? Every single thing I did with this book reminds me of you, every single page of it does. And here I am. How can I forget now? If you wanted me to forget you, you shouldn’t have replied that summer or come here at all!”

          Jongdae has his mouth slightly open. “That’s because—“

          Before Jongdae can continue, the door slides open and a waiter appears. “Miss, I think you dropped this.”

          He shows us a small rectangle thing on his hand, and I recognize it as my hotel room key. Jongdae is closer to the door and he takes it from the waiter, glances at it for a second, and hands it to me. The room is closed again. No words are spoken from both of us yet. Jongdae is heard taking a breath, and he hangs his head. I do the same.

          “So basically, you don’t want anything to do with me.” I mutter.

          “That’s not true. Nana, let me explain.”

          “Then please. The time is yours.”

          Jongdae glances at his watch, and his face looks uneasy. “Let’s meet again to talk. I need to leave soon because of work… I’m sorry.”

          My shoulders drop. Is he for real? I fold my arms on my chest. “When?”

          He picks up his bag. “I will contact you.” he says as he stands up. He disappears from the room, and the sound of the sliding door starts an utter silence.

          I watch the whole scene quietly, and let out an audible exhale. What even is this?

          I leave the restaurant and as I walk back to the hotel, I think about Jongdae’s words. I hate this curiosity, this sheer expectation… What is he going to explain?—he did this last spring, being all secretive and stuff, and it didn’t go well.

          I halt my steps at a bus stop, and sit on the bench. I need to wait again.

*

          During lunch on the last day of the conference, I stare emptily at my phone. I heard nothing from Jongdae since the dinner. My finger hovers above the screen that shows Jongdae’s number, and I put some strength on my hand. I hit the call button, and my eyes wander as the phone tries to connect.

          The line cuts off, and I feel anxious but relieved at the same time. I’d have been nervous if he picked up.

          I try again, and the connection does the same. I look at my phone, a bit irritated.

          I stab a piece of cherry tomato on my plate as I think hard. What am I going to do now? Tomorrow I’m going back to Japan, and Jongdae still owes me an explanation.

          I put down my fork, and press my back to the chair. This time, if he’s not coming to me, then I will.