Fate in the Rain

Shadows in the Smoke

The air in the Itaewon dive bar was thick with cigarette smoke and the tang of soju, the low hum of conversation drowned out by the pounding in Kang Min-jae’s ears. Joon-ho’s presence filled the room like a storm cloud, his tailored coat a stark contrast to the bar’s grimy walls. Flanked by two men in dark suits, their faces hard as stone, he stood in the doorway, his predatory smile fixed on Soo-jin before sliding to Min-jae. “Found you,” Joon-ho said, his voice smooth but laced with menace. “And just in time for the train.”Min-jae’s heart raced, his hand instinctively tightening around Soo-jin’s as they sat in the booth, Ji-hoon’s damning documents spread before them. The ledger with Choi Enterprises’ logo, the photo of Lee Soo-kyung with Min-jae’s mother, the loan records tying his past to Soo-jin’s family—it all burned in his mind, a puzzle with too many missing pieces. Ji-hoon, the childhood acquaintance who’d tracked him to Hongdae, sat frozen across from them, his eyes darting between Joon-ho and the exit.Soo-jin stood, her posture defiant despite the fear in her eyes. “Joon-ho,” she said, her voice steady but cold. “How did you find us?”Joon-ho’s smile widened, his gaze flicking to Ji-hoon. “You’re not the only one with contacts, Soo-jin. People talk, especially when the price is right.” He stepped closer, the suits shadowing him like hounds. “You think you can run? Hide in dives like this with your… charity case?” His eyes cut to Min-jae, sharp with disdain.Min-jae’s fists clenched, anger flaring past his fear. “Say what you want about me,” he said, standing to meet Joon-ho’s gaze. “But she’s not yours. She never was.”Joon-ho’s laugh was sharp, cutting through the bar’s haze. “Bold words for a nobody. You think you can protect her? You’re a rat in a trap, Kang Min-jae. And you—” He turned to Soo-jin, his voice softening, almost intimate. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be. Come with me now, and your friend might walk away.”Soo-jin’s hand found Min-jae’s again, her grip fierce. “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said. “You don’t own me, Joon-ho. And neither does my father.”The air crackled with tension, the bar’s patrons glancing nervously but staying clear. Ji-hoon shifted, his hand slipping under the table, and Min-jae caught a glint of metal—a knife, small but sharp. Han, the guesthouse owner, stood near the bar, his scarred face unreadable, his own knife still tucked away. Min-jae’s mind raced for a way out, the folder with the Choi contract in his bag a heavy reminder of the stakes. Joon-ho knew about the train to Busan—how? Had Han betrayed them? Or Ji-hoon?Before Min-jae could act, Ji-hoon lunged, his knife flashing toward one of Joon-ho’s men. The suit dodged, grabbing Ji-hoon’s arm and slamming him against the table, papers scattering. Chaos erupted—patrons shouted, chairs scraped, and Joon-ho’s second man drew a g*n, its barrel glinting in the dim light. Soo-jin pulled Min-jae down, the booth’s edge shielding them as a shot rang out, splintering the wall above.“Move!” Han barked, appearing beside them with a fire extinguisher. He sprayed a cloud of white foam, obscuring Joon-ho and his men. Min-jae grabbed Soo-jin’s backpack, the USB drive and documents inside their only leverage, and pulled her toward a back exit Han pointed to. Ji-hoon struggled free, blood trickling from his lip, and followed, his knife still in hand.They burst into an alley, the stench of garbage and fried food thick in the air. Itaewon’s neon lights flickered, the distant pulse of club music a stark contrast to the pounding of their footsteps. Han led them through a maze of side streets, past street food stalls and karaoke bars, until they reached a small parking lot where his van waited. “Get in,” he said, tossing Min-jae the keys. “I’ll hold them off.”“You’re not coming?” Soo-jin asked, her voice sharp with panic.Han’s scarred face softened for a moment. “Someone’s gotta slow them down. Get to Seoul Station. Your train leaves at 10 p.m. tomorrow. Don’t miss it.”Min-jae hesitated, the weight of Han’s sacrifice sinking in. “Why help us?” he asked.Han’s eyes flicked to Soo-jin. “I owe her mother,” he said cryptically, then vanished into the alley, his knife gleaming.Min-jae slid into the driver’s seat, Soo-jin beside him, Ji-hoon in the back. The van roared to life, peeling out of Itaewon as the distant sound of shouts faded. Soo-jin clutched her backpack, her face pale. “He mentioned my mother,” she said, her voice trembling. “Han never told me that before.”Min-jae’s grip tightened on the wheel, his mind spinning. “What’s your mother got to do with this?”“I don’t know,” Soo-jin admitted. “She left when I was a kid. My father said she ran off, but… there were rumors. About her and his business.” Her eyes met his, raw with uncertainty. “Min-jae, if your mother was tied to my family, and now mine… what else don’t I know?”Ji-hoon leaned forward, his voice rough. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. The Chois don’t just run hotels. They’ve got their hands in everything—loans, politics, worse. Your mom, Min-jae—she got caught in their web. And you—” He looked at Soo-jin. “You’re not as innocent as you think.”Soo-jin’s eyes flashed. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”Ji-hoon pulled a crumpled letter from his jacket, its edges worn. “This was with the documents. It’s from your mother, Soo-jin. Addressed to Min-jae’s mom. They knew each other. They were working together—against your father.”Min-jae’s breath caught, the van swerving slightly as he processed the words. “Working together? For what?”“To expose him,” Ji-hoon said. “Your mom, Min-jae, wasn’t just a debtor. She was digging into Choi Enterprises’ dirty deals. Soo-jin’s mom helped her, until they got caught. That’s why Soo-kyung was there when your mom died.”Soo-jin’s hand flew to her mouth, tears brimming. “No,” she whispered. “That can’t be true.”Min-jae’s vision blurred, anger and grief colliding. His mother’s death, the hospital, the unanswered questions—it all pointed to the Chois. To Soo-jin’s family. He glanced at her, her face crumpled with shock, and felt a pang of guilt for the accusation in his eyes. “Did you know?” he asked, his voice raw.“No,” she said, her voice breaking. “I swear, Min-jae. I didn’t know.”The van fell silent, the city’s lights streaking past as they neared Seoul Station. Min-jae’s heart pounded, torn between Ji-hoon’s revelations and Soo-jin’s desperate plea. The letter in Ji-hoon’s hand was a bomb, its words threatening to shatter their fragile trust. He pulled into a shadowed lot near the station, the KTX terminal’s glow a distant beacon. “We need to read it,” he said, turning to Ji-hoon. “Now.”Ji-hoon handed over the letter, its paper brittle with age. Min-jae’s hands shook as he unfolded it, Soo-jin leaning close, her breath warm against his shoulder. The handwriting was elegant, hurried, addressed to his mother: Eun-ji, we’re close. The evidence is in Busan. If we don’t act soon, he’ll find us. Stay safe. —Hye-jin.“Hye-jin,” Soo-jin whispered. “That’s my mother’s name.”Min-jae’s chest tightened, the past and present colliding. Their mothers, linked by a shared fight against Choi Enterprises, had left a legacy of danger—and now he and Soo-jin were caught in its web. “Busan,” he said, his voice firm. “We go. We finish what they started.”Soo-jin nodded, her eyes glistening but resolute. “Together.”Ji-hoon’s expression darkened. “You’re walking into a trap,” he said. “Soo-kyung’s still out there. And if Joon-ho found you here, he’ll find you in Busan.”Before Min-jae could respond, headlights flared behind them, a black SUV pulling into the lot. Joon-ho stepped out, his smile gone, replaced by a cold determination. But he wasn’t alone—a figure emerged beside him, her sharp features unmistakable. Lee Soo-kyung. And in her hand was the same g*n from Namsan, aimed straight at the van.