Chapter 52: Calls Before the Storm
The air behind the villa was crisp, tinged with the faint sweetness of the freshly trimmed garden. Tall bamboo stalks swayed softly in the wind, creating a natural rhythm.
Junhyeok was busy a few meters away, setting up a low table with a teapot and cups, humming off–key as he worked.
Ren slipped his phone from his pocket. The faint fever still clung to his head, making his thoughts move like syrup. But there was someone he wanted to call.
Shimo.
The line rang twice before a rough male voice answered. "Yeah? Who's this?"
Ren narrowed his eyes. "...Check the dialer name."
There was a beat of silence, then a laugh on the other end. "Ohhh~ So you're him. SHIMO! YOUR DADDY'S CALLING!"
Ren pinched the bridge of his nose. "... Unnecessary commentary. And what's up with that boyfriend stuff?"
Shuffling. Then a distinctly exhausted voice came on. "Ren?"
"Yeah. You sound dead."
"I feel dead," she groaned. Behind her, there was a cacophony of metallic clangs, voices yelling, and something that sounded like an engine failing.
"What the hell is going on over there?"
"Warehouse... long story. Give me a sec, I can't hear you!" she yelled away from the phone. A door slammed, muffling the background noise.
Moments later, her voice came through clearer. "Alright. I'm outside. Talk."
Ren leaned against a wooden post, watching the wind ripple through the grass. "I wanted to check if you and my parents are doing well."
Shimo gave a tired laugh. "We're fine. Your parents are fine. Some thugs show up now and then, but... nothing worth worrying about. Same old."
"...Good," Ren said softly.
There was a brief, comfortable silence. The kind that only existed between people who had known each other too long to need to fill every gap.
Then Ren spoke again. "Shimo. Are you free on December 23rd?"
She didn't even hesitate. "HEY! ANY COMMISSIONS FOR THE 23RD?" she shouted to someone off–screen. A muffled "No!" came back. "Yeah, I'm free. Why?"
Ren allowed a faint smirk. "Then maybe the two of us will go on a grand date."
"What the hell do you mean by–"
Ren ended the call.
He stared at his screen. A notification popped up: Balance remaining: 7 yen.
"...It would've cut anyway," he muttered, scratching his cheek sheepishly.
He didn't linger. He scrolled down and tapped another name. Akeshi.
The call connected instantly–into what sounded like a full–blown carnival.
TOKUSAKE! HEY!›
In the background:
‹STOP RUNNING AROUND!›
‹DON'T TOUCH THOSE BUTTONS!›
‹WHO TOOK THE CHICKEN?!›
Music blasted somewhere, followed by someone laughing like a maniac.
Ren's mouth twitched. "You sound busy."
‹Busy? Nah–HEY! PUT THAT DOWN!–just a bit!› Akeshi's voice switched between speaking to Ren and barking orders like a chaotic mother hen.
Ren sighed. "I'll call you later. Handle your warzone."
‹Yeah, yeah, call later!–HEY DON'T EAT THAT RAW›" click.
The moment the line cut, silence returned.
Ren tucked the phone away and walked further into the yard. That's when he saw her.
Ji–eun.
She sat on the wooden deck's edge, eyes closed, a pair of earphones in. The wind tossed her hair gently, and her feet swung back and forth in lazy rhythm. Her body swayed ever so slightly from side to side–caught in the music.
The intimidating, sharp–eyed girl from earlier was nowhere to be found. In her place was someone quietly enjoying a song, oblivious to the world.
Ren stopped mid–step. For some reason, the scene made him pause–not out of fear, but out of... curiosity.
He cleared his throat softly. "Good afternoon, Ji–eun."
The girl's eyes snapped open. She jumped slightly, almost letting the earphones slip.
"...Ren," she said, surprised.
Ren offered a faint, polite smile. "You enjoy music, don't you?"
She tilted her head. "I do. It's... calming."
"What kind of music do you like?"
She thought for a moment. "Anything that carries emotions. Unlike today's music–it's all copy–paste formulas. I like to hear where unfiltered emotions are poured into something."
Ren tilted his head, considering. "...That's... not really possible."
Her lips twitched. She stayed silent for a long moment, and Ren's thoughts began to spiral. Did I offend her? Was I too blunt?
Finally, she exhaled softly. "...I suppose you're right."
Relief didn't exactly wash over him–it was more like a subtle acknowledgment. He decided to continue. "What about school? Your classes? Life at the estate?"
Ji–eun's posture softened slightly. "School's... tolerable. Not much excitement. But I suppose I manage. What about you?"
Ren chuckled faintly. "Tolerable isn't the word I'd use for the default class." He paused, thinking of other students from his past life and the strange hierarchy there. "But I live."
They fell into an easy rhythm, talking about classes, teachers, the oddities of their school life. Ren noticed her subtle smiles, the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned a particularly difficult math problem she had solved.
A buzz broke the quiet. Ren's phone vibrated.
He glanced at it: Akeshi.
‹Why did you call me?› Akeshi's voice boomed over the line, cutting through the wind.
Ren remained silent for a moment. "Has the storm cleared?"
‹...Yeah. It's gone.›
Ji–eun glanced at him curiously. "Who is that?"
Ren answered, introducing the two. ‹This is Akeshi. Akeshi, meet Ji–eun.›
There was a brief, awkward pause before they started talking. Akeshi's easygoing nature clashed a little with Ji–eun's reserved demeanor, but gradually, the three of them fell into a comfortable rhythm.
"Why is there music in the background?" Ji–eun asked finally, glancing at Akeshi.
‹Nothing much,› Akeshi said casually. ‹Just... making some stuff.›
Then, in the background, a voice shouted, ‹Mr. Hell!›
Akeshi grunted, ending the call abruptly. ‹Gotta go. Later.›
Ren returned his attention to Ji–eun. "What about music artists? Anyone in particular?"
Ji–eun's eyes sparkled. "...I like ATE. Also known as Midas by those in Thai industry."
Ren tilted his head, analyzing. 'ATE... doesn't ring a bell. Must be an indie creator.,
"Indie?" he asked.
Ji–eun froze, giving him a sharp, judgemental stare. "Have you been living under a rock?"
She swiped through her phone, showing him hundreds of fan posts, art, and fan pages. Each image depicted a human figure with golden hands, ethereal and commanding. "ATE is a global hit," she said. "Look at this–net worth in the hundreds of millions, dominating Japan–no, the world's music scene. Several big–shot producers are working with him."
Ji–eun played one of ATE's songs. The notes floated through the yard. Ren's head throbbed instantly, memories flashing–him, lying under a blanket in the middle of a dim room, listening to the same song.
He clenched his fists slightly. 'Maybe this isn't the same timeline... maybe it belongs to this one.' He placed his fingers on his chest.
They talked more, shifting between light banter and deeper conversation. Ji–eun even laughed a sound that surprised him, breaking the icy tension he had felt earlier.
After a while, they stood. Ji–eun stretched, letting the last notes of the song drift away. She glanced at him, eyes narrowed just slightly.
"Don't think that just because we had a good talk," she said softly, "I'm going to go easy on you."
Ren's lips curved in a faint, polite smile. "Wouldn't expect you to."