Chapter 54: Beneath the Black Sea
The world was silent.
No, not silent – muted.
Ren opened his eyes to find himself drowning.
There was no water, not really, but his lungs screamed for air all the same. The sea around him was endless, stretching into a black – and – white blur. Broken shards drifted by – glass, rocks, fragments of things he didn't remember dropping.
They scraped his arms, sliced across his knuckles, but he couldn't feel pain – just pressure.
He tried to rise.
His legs kicked, hands clawing at the weightless void.
But no matter how much he tried, he sank deeper.
Each breath felt heavier, tighter. The dark pressed closer.
Then, faintly –
A ringing.
Sharp, repetitive, cutting through the static.
Ren's eyes snapped open.
The suffocating darkness peeled away, replaced by the soft beige ceiling of the guest room. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, hand clutching the blanket. A phone vibrated beside him.
He blinked at the screen.
‹Shimo ›
Ren sighed, still half – caught between the nightmare and morning.
He answered.
"...Hello – "
‹What the fuck are you doing?! ›
Her voice hit him like cold water.
Ren opened his mouth to say something sly, something defensive – but no words came. His throat locked. His breathing hitched again, chest rising too fast.
‹...Hey. ›
The tone changed – gentler now.
‹Slow down. Just breathe, okay? ›
He did.
In. Out. Again.
Gradually, the air stopped burning.
"...Sorry," Ren muttered finally. His voice was hoarse. "Just... morning stuff."
‹Morning stuff? You sound like you wrestled a ghost. ›
Ren let out a breath that might've been a laugh. "Why're you calling this early, anyway?"
‹Haven't seen you for a hot days. ›
"It's 'hot minute," he corrected automatically.
‹No, it's days, because you've been gone for days. ›
He smiled faintly. "Fair enough. I'm... bonding with my gramps."
‹Bonding, huh? Sounds like a horror movie. ›
"Yeah… the next episode will be awkward as hell."
Shimo snorted. ‹My grandparents died ages ago. Back when my brother still lived here. ›
Ren blinked. "Didn't know you had a brother."
‹I had one. Then that crazy bastard ran off to a foreign country without telling anyone. Came back four years later, acting all shiny and normal. ›
"PhD?" Ren said after a moment.
‹Huh? ›
"PhD takes about four years. Maybe he was studying."
Silence. Then a flat, ‹Yeah, right. I'd sooner believe he was dealing drugs than writing research papers. ›
"Ask him," Ren said, amused.
There was shuffling on the other end. ‹HEY, JI! YOU GOT A PHD OR SOME SHIT?! ›
A muffled male voice: ‹Wait – how did you find out?! ›
‹SO YOU DO HAVE ONE?! ›
‹Of course I – wait, did Mom tell you? ›
‹MOM, YOU KNEW?! ›
‹Yes, dear. ›
‹DAD?! ›
‹I knew too. ›
‹WHAT THE – WHY AM/THE LAST ONE TO KNOW?! ›
Ren was laughing now, the kind that actually eased the leftover weight in his chest. "So... turns out your brother did write a book."
‹Shut up. ›
"Can't. You just comforted a guy having a panic attack while being dumber than a goldfish."
‹Excuse me?! ›
"You heard me.'
You're the bigger idiot! ›
He grinned. "Probably."
There was quiet after that – peaceful, almost hesitant. Then Shimo's tone softened. ‹Um... hey, I wanted to ask something. ›
Ren hummed. "What?"
‹l – uh... I mean, you said – ›
A smack echoed. ‹OW! Renji, what the hell?! ›
‹Just spit it out, moron! ›
‹Fine! › she yelled – and at that exact moment, the door creaked open.
Junhyeok stood there, bowing slightly. "Young master, Lady Ji – eun requests your presence. The postponed match from yesterday is about to begin."
Ren nodded, rubbing his temple. "Alright. Be there in a sec."
He turned back to the phone. "You were saying?"
‹Right… what did you mean by December twenty – third? And that whole grand date thing?›
Ren hesitated. "...You'll find out when it comes."
‹Ren—›
He cut the call.
For a moment, he just sat there, staring at the blank screen, palm covering his face.
"...Why the hell did I even say that…"
Junhyeok was still at the door, caught between staying and pretending he hadn't heard.
He quietly chose the second option.
.
.
.
.
The hall was quiet – too quiet.
Ren sat across from Harate, an untouched cup of tea cooling between them. The faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner was the only sound breaking the silence.
Junhyeok lingered behind a pillar, not by intent but out of habit. Years of serving had taught him to stay invisible. Yet even from here, he could feel it – The conversation was strained.
If Ji – eun had been here, she would've cracked a joke by now. Laughed awkwardly, maybe teased her grandfather until the tension broke.
But this?
This was two stones grinding against each other.
Harate's gaze was sharp but distant, studying Ren as though measuring the worth of an object, not a person.
"...So," Harate began finally, "you've been sleeping well?"
Ren blinked. "Mostly."
"Good." A pause. "The beds here are high quality."
"...Right."
Another pause.
Junhyeok almost sighed. Even Lady Ji – eun's temper tantrums sound more natural than this.
Ren sipped his tea just to have something to do. The bitterness clung to his tongue. "Did you... want to talk about something specific?"
"Yes."
Harate set down his cup with deliberate care. "I need you to meet a composer."
Ren froze, cup halfway to his lips. "...A what now?"
"A composer."
He stared. "Grandfather, are you – " he stopped himself, exhaled, and started again. "Are you serious?"
Harate frowned, brows narrowing like storm clouds. "Do I look like I'm joking?"
Ren looked him up and down. "Honestly? A bit. It's hard to tell these days."
The old man ignored that. "This composer has good influence in the industry. Connections, networks, the kind of reach we need. You'll go meet him."
Ren leaned back, trying to read his tone. "Why me?"
"Because," Harate said flatly, "the Yamamichi business can't stay confined to one country. Expansion is necessary. I need someone from the family to represent us."
Ren's jaw tightened. "And by 'represent,' you mean 'be a pawn'."
Harate sighed. "If that's how you wish to see it."
Junhyeok, listening, winced slightly. 'Gods above, even his sighs sound rehearsed.'
Ren set the cup down harder than intended, the ceramic clinking. "So that's it? No prep, no warning – just 'go meet this stranger because it benefits the company'?"
"It's not a stranger," Harate said curtly. "It's an opportunity. Learn to recognize one when it's given to you."
Ren chuckled under his breath. "Given? You mean assigned."
Harate's expression hardened. "Do you think you have the luxury of refusing me?"
Ren met his eyes and didn't look away. "No. But I do have the luxury of asking why."
For the first time, something like irritation flickered in Harate's gaze. "Because I said so. And because I'm the only one in this family who understands the weight of what we build. And the only one who will give you an easy way to rise above.'
"Right," Ren murmured. "You build. I go up.
Junhyeok had seen this before – the way Harate's words always came out like laws carved in stone, and Ren's replies like tired graffiti on the side.
Harate continued, tone all business. "Junhyeok and Ji-eun will accompany you, along with Luther. That should be enough."
"Enough for what?"
"To keep you from making a fool of yourself."
Ren smiled thinly. "You really do think highly of me, don't you?"
Harate didn't answer.
Ren's smile faltered. He sat there, silent, feeling the empty space between them grow colder by the second.
In his head, he could almost hear the words the old man didn't say: no 'good luck', no 'be careful", no 'I trust you'.
Just orders.
Always orders.
When the silence stretched too long, Junhyeok decided he'd had enough of playing ghost. He turned away from his hiding spot, footsteps soft as he left the hallway.
As he walked off, he thought, 'Even when Lady Ji-eun's having one of her storms, it never feels this forced.'
Behind him, the ticking of the clock resumed its rhythm – Cold. Predictable.
Like the man still sitting on the chair.
And a butterfly taking honey from a flower.