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This light novel is inspired by the beautiful landscapes and cultures of Bolivia and South Korea. However, the characters, events, and situations portrayed are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental. This content does not intend to represent or reflect the historical, social, or cultural reality of either country. The author disclaims any legal liability arising from the interpretation of these elements.
Chapter 73 – Run, Ryu, Run.
73.1 The Urgency.
The Santa Cruz sky was beginning to dress in orange when Ryu stepped out of his cabin, restless.
He had been walking aimlessly for hours, unable to find a way to calm the whirlwind in his chest.
After the conversation with Camila and that moment in front of the Toborochi tree,
something inside him had shattered and awakened.
He didn't sleep, he didn't work; he only thought.
He massaged the space between his eyebrows a gesture that only appeared when he was on the verge of losing control.
"I never thought I'd lose my composure over someone.
But for her, everything is different."
With hands still cold, he picked up his phone and messaged Camila.
< "Camila, please tell me. Where is she?" >
The message was blunt.
No formalities, no embellishments.
The reply came almost immediately.
< "She's at a restaurant downtown. But she's not alone." >
Ryu felt a slight hollowness in his stomach, so sudden that he had to steady himself with a hand on the table.
He didn't show it.
He never showed it.
< "With whom?" >
He replied, bordering on impulse.
< "With Yandé." >
A silence fell over the phone, but not in his heart.
He blinked once, slowly and deeply,
as if trying to process a genuine threat.
"Not him."
The name Yandé was enough to set off every alarm.
Ryu didn't answer.
He simply put his phone away and grabbed his keys with such haste that he dropped them.
He didn't pick them up with his usual calm, because something in his chest was screaming at him.
"I can't let this slip away."
This time he was clumsy,
and he took off running as if his entire future depended on it.
This wasn't a simple whim.
It was her or nothing.
***
Meanwhile, on the other side of the city...
Zayra sat at a table beneath the warm glow of a colonial lantern.
She wore a wine-colored blouse and elegant black trousers.
Even so, she carried the weight of an entire sleepless night.
She had spent it thinking,
and it wasn't like her to think so much about a man.
Before, when she lived in Washington,
marrying for interest seemed as normal to her as signing just another contract.
"Anyone can get married if they want, but only those who can afford it get divorced."
She used to say with a laugh.
After all, to her, love was a dangerous luxury a word she had learned to dodge ever since that time,
at eighteen, when she was left in a hospital without explanation.
Since then, she viewed the heart as a functional organ,
not a weapon to be handed over.
That was why this absurd, uncomfortable,
almost ridiculous pain surprised her so much now.
"I never thought love would matter to me this much… until it hurt not to hear it from him."
She admitted silently, swirling her glass.
Zayra ended up laughing at herself,
defeated by her own contradiction.
"Ah, of course. The 'woman of the world.'
The sophisticated one who said love was optional."
If her university friends could see her now, taking such an emotional slap to the face, they'd die laughing.
They were the ones who always said,
"You'll fall eventually, your stuck-up girl."
And she had sworn she never, ever would.
But there she was.
Falling and realizing that...
Deep down, what she had wanted her whole life wasn't freedom, or coldness,
or clean contracts, but the same thing her parents had.
Real love reciprocated, mutual, stubborn, imperfect, and constant.
The kind of love that can't be bought with interest or improvised.
And then the thought that weighed more than everything else surfaced.
"If I am surrendering my heart now…
Why should I settle for less?"
Zayra gripped the glass with her fingers.
Her limit became clear, as if it had been waiting for this moment to reveal itself.
"Better to break today than to live beside someone who doesn't feel the same.
I don't plan on marrying a half-hearted love."
For the first time in a long while, that certainty didn't scare her.
It brought a certain calm; however, that wasn't enough to stop her from feeling sad.
***
Suddenly, a male voice pulled her back to reality.
"Zay, are you okay?"
She blinked and saw Yandé in front of her.
She smiled and said.
"I'm sorry, where were we?"
She laughed softly, but her gaze didn't lose that dull layer
a shadow that exposed a contained sadness.
Yandé barely frowned.
It was that slight gesture he only made when he was worried about someone he cared for.
He ran a finger along the rim of his glass, distracted,
as if holding back the impulse to ask what was wrong.
But he kept the question to himself.
It wasn't his place to insist.
"Thanks for coming."
He said in a soft voice.
"I felt bad writing to you,
but I know nobody else could help me with this."
His smile was brief and sincere,
the kind that only escaped when he talked to her.
"Truly."
He added, lowering his gaze slightly.
"How could she not come… she's always been there for the community."
He thought with quiet pride.
Zayra nodded.
Lifted her glass of sparkling water, barely curling her lips into something meant to look like a smile.
She took a deep breath to regain her composure and said.
"Yandé, you know very well that whenever the community needs me,
I'll be here."
He noticed that tiny tremor in her breath.
He recognized it instantly; he had only seen it in her when something truly hurt.
He rubbed the back of his neck a habit of his to ward off someone else's discomfort,
not his own.
"Oh, Zay… who did this to you now?"
He thought in silence.
He always preferred to be a refuge rather than a burden.
73.2 Twenty Minutes for a Test
Ryu stepped out of the taxi before it had even come to a full stop.
The driver could barely tell him the fare before he was already crossing the street.
His hair was slightly messy,
his face tense, and he carried an energy that was unfamiliar to him: urgency.
From outside the restaurant, through the illuminated window, he saw them laughing.
A cold heat of jealousy pierced his chest, a feeling he didn't want to admit.
She was sitting there, serene and accompanied.
With that light of hers.
And for a second, he thought he was already too late.
Zayra seemed further away than ever before.
Without judgment or caution, he simply went toward her.
"If it's not now... it will never be."
And with that thought, he pushed open the glass door.
***
Zayra and Yandé were sitting at a table away from the noise, surrounded by folders and documents.
He was pointing to a form while she reviewed the data with a pen in hand.
A familiar shadow stopped beside the table.
"I need to talk to you."
Ryu said, without preamble.
She looked up and the air between them tightened,
as if Ryu's simple announcement had silenced even the distant noise of the dining room.
He avoided looking at Yandé for more than a second.
He feared the jealousy would show in his eyes.
Yandé arched an eyebrow, hiding the smile that tried to escape.
He leaned back slightly against his chair, crossing his arms calmly, evaluating both of their reactions.
"Well, look at that… so it's because of this guy."
Zayra's heart leaped in a way she didn't let show.
She looked up, nodded, took a deep breath, and answered with the steadiest voice she could muster.
"Give me twenty minutes, please...
I'm almost finished."
Ryu swallowed, almost imperceptibly,
pinning his eyes on the folder to avoid looking at her directly.
Twenty minutes… To him, an eternity.
Yandé turned toward him,
surprised by the invisible tension he felt between them.
"Zay, if you want, we can reschedule this."
He offered, with total naturalness.
But his eyes gleamed for a moment, amused.
It was his way of prodding him without appearing intentional.
"No, it's fine."
She replied immediately.
"Let's finish. There's not much left."
Yandé nodded slowly, signaling his support.
At the same time, a brief shadow of resignation crossed his eyes as he reflected.
"Zay… even if I'm not the lucky one, I'll always support you."
Ryu said nothing.
He only held her gaze a second longer than necessary and then stepped aside, waiting.
Though he felt frustrated inside,
he understood she was working.
But he was also aware of Yandé's feelings for her,
and that created a certain discomfort he would never admit out loud.
So, he chose to go to a nearby table.
Yandé followed him with his eyes as Ryu walked away.
He pursed his lips into a half-smile that held too many meanings.
"Heh."
He exhaled barely, without a sound.
The guy was nervous.
And to him… it was funny.
"How lovely it is when the strong one's tremble."
But beneath the humor,
something in his chest tightened as he saw how Zayra's eyes followed him.
Ryu sat down and rested his elbows on the table,
interlacing his fingers to keep the trembling from showing.
He had never waited for anyone.
He had never wanted anything this much.
***
Zayra swallowed; her throat suddenly felt itchy.
She cleared it softly and pointed back to the papers,
trying to ensure her hands didn't reveal the shaking she felt.
"Here is the error…"
She said, returning to the work.
As she spoke, Yandé nodded, but his eyes drifted toward Ryu.
He studied him with the serenity of a leader and the mischief of an old friend.
A strange mixture of pride, annoyance, and acceptance passed through his gaze.
It wasn't jealousy.
It was mature love.
The kind that wants to see someone happy, even if that someone doesn't choose them.
As Zayra explained the situation to Yandé,
her mind wasn't entirely on the pages.
"If he stays… then maybe I do matter to him. Maybe I didn't imagine it all."
The thought pierced her with force.
Not as a consolation, but as a truth she had been trying to deny for days.
And without looking up, she felt Ryu's firm presence behind her still, controlled, waiting.
And that simple fact… hurt her and healed her at the same time.