Fate in the Rain

The Lock at Namsan

The midnight air atop Namsan Mountain was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine and the distant hum of Seoul’s sleepless heart. Min-jae stood near Namsan Tower, its glowing silhouette piercing the starry sky, the city sprawling below like a sea of neon and dreams. The famous love locks glinted along the fence, thousands of padlocks etched with promises, their colors dulled by moonlight. His bag, heavy with the unsigned Choi Foundation contract, felt like a chain around his shoulder, but Soo-jin’s text—Namsan Tower, midnight—kept him anchored, waiting.The encounter in Apgujeong’s tea house with Joon-ho, Soo-jin’s smug fiancé, still burned in Min-jae’s mind. Joon-ho’s threat—You’ll wish you hadn’t—echoed alongside the image of the man in the dark coat and his new companion, their silhouettes haunting the alley’s edge. Min-jae’s pulse hadn’t settled since, his instincts torn between running from Soo-jin’s dangerous world and diving deeper into her orbit. Her words—You’re fighting for us—had rooted themselves in his chest, a reckless hope he couldn’t shake, even as fear whispered he was in over his head.A soft rustle broke his thoughts. Soo-jin emerged from the shadows, her hoodie replaced by a dark jacket, her auburn hair tucked into a cap. She carried a small backpack, her movements quick and cautious, like a fugitive. Her eyes found his, and for a moment, the tension in her face softened, a flicker of relief passing between them.“You’re here,” she said, her voice low, almost swallowed by the wind. “I wasn’t sure after… Joon-ho.”Min-jae stepped closer, his breath visible in the cool air. “I said I’m in,” he replied, his tone steadier than he felt. “But you need to start talking, Soo-jin. Who’s following us? And what’s in Busan that’s worth all this?”She glanced around, her eyes scanning the empty observation deck. The tourists had long gone, leaving only the locks and the city’s distant pulse. “Not here,” she whispered, pulling him toward a quieter corner near the fence. She knelt, opening her backpack to reveal a small bundle wrapped in cloth. “This is part of it,” she said, unwrapping it to show a USB drive and a stack of folded papers. “Documents. Proof of what my father’s done—deals with people he shouldn’t, bribes to cover it up. If I can get this to the right person in Busan, we can end this.”Min-jae’s heart thudded. “End what? His company? Your family?”Her eyes met his, raw and resolute. “Everything he’s built on lies. But it’s not just about him. It’s about me. If I don’t do this, I’ll never be free. Joon-ho, the marriage—it’s all part of his control. I need to break it, Min-jae. For us.”The word us hit him like a spark, igniting something he didn’t want to name. He reached for the papers, his fingers brushing hers, and glanced at the top sheet—a ledger with names, dates, and figures that meant nothing to him but screamed trouble. “Who’s in Busan?” he asked. “Who’s this ‘right person’?”“Someone I trust,” she said, her voice tight. “A former employee of my father’s. He left years ago, after… an incident. He knows things, and he’s willing to help. But we have to get there first.”Min-jae’s mind raced. Busan was hours away, a world apart from Seoul’s chaos. “How do we even get there?” he asked. “Your father’s people are everywhere. That man in the coat, the one with the phone—they’re watching.”Soo-jin’s face tightened, but she pulled a small envelope from her bag. “Train tickets,” she said. “KTX to Busan, tomorrow night. I’ve got cash, no cards—they can’t trace it. But we need to be careful. Joon-ho’s not stupid, and my father’s worse.”He took the envelope, the weight of her plan settling over him. “And me?” he asked, his voice rough. “What am I in this? Your getaway driver? Your shield?”She stepped closer, her breath warm against the cold. “You’re the only one I trust,” she said, her voice soft but fierce. “I know it’s unfair, pulling you into this. But when I saw you in the rain, I felt… something. Like you were the answer I’d been searching for.”Her words stirred a warmth in his chest, dangerous and intoxicating. He wanted to believe her, to be her answer, but the folder in his bag—the contract’s promise of a future—whispered doubt. “I haven’t signed it,” he said, nodding toward the bag. “But it could fix my life, Soo-jin. Tuition, rent, everything. Why shouldn’t I?”Her eyes darkened, a mix of fear and defiance. “Because it’s a trap,” she said. “My father doesn’t give without taking. Sign it, and you’re his. You’ll lose yourself, Min-jae. I can’t let that happen.”He held her gaze, torn between the safety of the contract and the risk of her plan. Before he could respond, she reached into her pocket, pulling out a small padlock, its surface etched with a simple heart. “Here,” she said, pressing it into his hand. “For the fence. A promise.”He frowned, the lock cold against his palm. “A promise for what?”“That we’ll come back,” she said, her voice trembling. “When this is over, when we’re free. We’ll lock it here, together.”The gesture felt impossibly fragile, a dream in a world of threats. But as he looked at her, the city lights reflecting in her eyes, he felt a surge of resolve. He clipped the lock onto the fence, its click echoing in the quiet night. “Okay,” he said. “Busan. Together.”She smiled, a rare, unguarded moment that made his heart ache. But the moment shattered as a low hum cut through the air—a drone, its red light blinking as it hovered above the deck. Soo-jin’s smile vanished, her hand gripping his. “They’ve found us,” she whispered.Min-jae’s pulse spiked. He scanned the area, spotting a shadow moving near the tower’s base—too far to make out, but too deliberate to be a coincidence. “We need to move,” he said, pulling her toward the cable car station. But as they ran, the drone followed, its hum growing louder, and footsteps echoed behind them.They ducked into a stairwell, the city’s glow fading as they descended Namsan’s wooded slope. Soo-jin’s breath was ragged, her hand tight in his. “They’re faster than I thought,” she said. “Joon-ho must’ve tipped them off.”“Joon-ho?” Min-jae’s voice was sharp. “You said he didn’t know about Busan.”“He doesn’t,” she said, her eyes wide with panic. “But he knows I’m slipping away. He’s not just my fiancé—he’s my father’s enforcer.”The revelation hit Min-jae like a blow. Joon-ho wasn’t just a rival; he was a predator, tied to the same dangerous web as Soo-jin’s father. They reached a narrow path, the city lights flickering through the trees, but the drone’s hum was relentless, and the footsteps grew closer. Min-jae spotted a service road ahead, a maintenance truck parked under a streetlamp.“There,” he said, pulling her toward it. “We can hide.”They crouched behind the truck, the drone’s light sweeping the path. Soo-jin’s hand trembled in his, her voice a whisper. “If they catch us, Min-jae, they’ll make sure you disappear. I’m so sorry.”“Stop apologizing,” he said, his voice fierce. “We’re in this now. Just tell me how to get us out.”She nodded, pulling a burner phone from her bag. “I’ll call my contact in Busan. He can arrange a pickup if we make it to the station tomorrow.”Before she could dial, a figure stepped into the streetlamp’s glow—the man in the dark coat, his phone now replaced by something glinting in his hand. A g*n. Beside him stood the second figure from Apgujeong, a woman with sharp features and a cold smile. But it was her voice that stopped Min-jae cold, familiar in a way that made his blood run cold.“Min-jae,” she said, her tone laced to cut. “You should’ve stayed in your lane.”Soo-jin’s grip tightened, her eyes wide with confusion. “You know her?” she whispered.Min-jae’s heart pounded, memories flooding back—memories he’d buried deep. The woman’s face, older now, matched a ghost from his past, someone tied to the mother he’d lost and the life he’d fought to forget.