Chapter Text
The ring sat quietly in the velvet box, small and golden, catching the soft yellow glow of Jake’s desk lamp. He held it in his palm like it was something alive, like it might whisper the answer he’d been circling since Hajoon handed it to him two nights ago.
It was simple. Plain, even. No diamonds. No frills. Just a smooth, perfectly proportioned gold band.
He loved it.
He didn’t expect to. Hajoon usually missed the mark when it came to his taste, always a bit too polished, too grand, too textbook-romantic. But this time, he got it exactly right. No corrections. No notes.
Jake had tried it on the moment Hajoon left. It slid on easily, as if it belonged there.
He hadn’t worn it since.
A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He quickly tucked the ring box under a closed notebook just as the door opened.
His mother peeked in. “Everything packed?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah. Just triple-checking.”
She stepped into the room with a fond smile, sitting at the edge of his bed with a passport in one hand and a pack of travel adapters in the other. “You almost forgot these. Again.”
“Every time,” Jake said, smiling faintly.
Her gaze moved around the room, the shelves of perfectly aligned books, color-coded folders, and laminated checklists. Everything in its place. A room that reflected Hajoon’s influence more than Jake sometimes liked to admit.
Her eyes landed on the corner of the desk, where the notebook sat just a little too neatly.
“You sure about this?” she asked.
Jake hesitated. “Yeah. I mean, kind of nervous. But it’s Japan. I’ve been a few times.”
She reached over, lifted the notebook, and gently pulled out the velvet box.
“Not the flight,” she said softly.
Jake stayed quiet.
“I saw the way you looked at it,” she said, opening the box with careful hands. “You love him.”
He nodded. “I do.”
She looked down at the ring, understated and honest. “He got it right this time.”
Jake’s voice was quiet. “Yeah.”
Her expression turned thoughtful. "You used to follow your gut more. But Hajoon’s always been the one with the plan. Somewhere along the way, I think you started living on his clock too."
Jake blinked, surprised. “What do you mean?”
His mom smiled gently.
“Hajoon’s always had his timelines. His lists, his five-year plans. And you.. well, you used to be more go-with-the-flow. Now you double-check everything three times.” She paused, her voice thoughtful. “Maybe that’s kind of love or maybe it’s just what happens when you spend too long inside someone else’s rhythm.”
Jake looked down at his hands.
“I’m not saying don’t marry him,” she added. “He seems thoughtful. Steady. But you’re twenty-three.”
“I’m graduating in three months.”
“Exactly,” she said gently. “But marriage isn’t something you tick off a list. It’s not earned. It’s chosen. Every day.”
He didn’t respond. Just reached for a hug.
She held him tighter than usual, like part of her already missed him.
“Call me when you land,” she said, pulling back. “And text me the name of this friend Hajoon’s sending you off with. Just in case he turns out to be a serial killer.”
Jake rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom. Super comforting.”
She kissed his cheek and stood. “You packed your charger, right?”
He smiled. “Three times.”
Hajoon had planned the trip with him originally, down to the hour.
A pause before real life.
Before full-time work.
Before the engagement Hajoon had already mapped into a color-coded spreadsheet.
He’d made reservations months in advance, booked a private tour of an obscure tea farm known for its ceremonial-grade matcha, and emailed Jake articles about panoramic hiking trails and “must-visit” shrines that aligned with their travel goals.
Even their rest days were structured. “To avoid decision fatigue,” Hajoon had said.
It was supposed to be their trip.
But two weeks ago, Hajoon’s father collapsed without warning. A sudden medical crisis. Hajoon flew back to Seattle the next morning.
Jake understood. Of course he did. Family comes first.
Still, something unsteady lodged itself in him afterward.
Not because of the distance, but because suddenly, he didn’t know what the trip was for anymore.
“I still want you to go,” Hajoon had said, fingers laced with Jake’s at the airport. His voice had been calm, rehearsed. “It’ll be good for you. Maybe even better this way.”
“Alone?” Jake had asked.
Hajoon smiled, too quickly. “Not completely.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “You’re not seriously—”
“I have a friend. He’s already there. Practically local.”
Hajoon pulled out his phone, already scrolling. “You just have to text him. He can help you navigate. I don’t want you wandering around aimlessly.”
“That sounds like the start of a Netflix documentary,” Jake muttered.
“He’s not a stranger. We went to high school together. We still talk.”
Jake folded his arms. “And I’ve never even heard of him?”
Hajoon leaned in and pressed something into Jake’s hand, small, velvet, familiar. “You won’t be alone,” he said again.
Jake opened his palm.
The ring box.
“Only if you want to say yes,” Hajoon added, softer now.
Jake hadn’t answered. But he smiled, a quiet, uncertain curve of his lips, and that was enough for Hajoon.
Now, hours later, the airport was quieter than Jake expected. Late flight, midweek. The kind Hajoon preferred, less chaotic, fewer variables.
His suitcase rolled softly across clean tile as he made his way toward the gate.
Security: done.
Roaming: confirmed.
Hajoon’s laminated folder of travel documents? Tucked in his carry-on.
Jake reached into the front pouch and pulled out a folded note, the one that came with the ring.
Just a phone number.
And underneath, in Hajoon’s careful, looping handwriting,
I’m really looking forward to your ‘yes.’
— Hajoon
Jake stared at it, thumb grazing the edge of the fold.
Then he took a breath, and dialed.
Two rings.
Then a voice, clear, warm, casual.
“Hello?”
Jake blinked. “Hi, is this..”
He double-checked the name on the note.
“...Sunghoon?”
The voice on the other end brightened. “Jake, right?”
“Yeah,” Jake said, settling into the gate’s plastic seat. “I just landed.”
By the time Jake stepped out of Kansai International Airport, the sun had already dipped behind the skyline, and the air was cooling fast. A soft breeze brushed past him as if welcoming him to Japan in its own quiet language. He tightened his coat and scanned the crowd outside the arrivals gate, rolling his suitcase behind him.
He hadn’t eaten all day. Slept the whole flight. Even skipped the in-flight meal just to avoid waking up. Now, his stomach was very aware of that choice.
He pulled out his phone and checked the message from Hajoon again. The number. The name. The little scribbled note.
“He’ll be waiting near the taxi stand. Don’t freak out. You’ll like him.”
Jake sighed and adjusted the strap of his backpack.
He wasn’t sure he would.
Not because he expected Sunghoon to be rude, Hajoon didn’t befriend rude people, but because he didn’t know what kind of traveler Sunghoon was.
What if he didn’t care about schedules? What if he changed plans last minute? What if he liked going off-course, skipping meals, or deciding what to do five minutes before doing it?
Jake wasn’t good with chaos. Not anymore. Not after Hajoon.
Structure had become his safety net, something he’d learned to lean into without even realizing it.
But what if this trip became unpredictable?
He hoped Hajoon was right.
Then he saw someone walking toward him.
Tall. Maybe six feet or more. Pale skin, perfectly styled dark hair, broad shoulders, and a face that looked too symmetrical to be casual. Something between an actor and a daydream. Jake’s breath caught in his throat.
There was no way that was...
“Hi,” the stranger said, stopping in front of him. “Jake?”
Jake blinked. “Yeah. Uhm. Hi.”
The man extended his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Sunghoon.”
Jake took the handshake a beat too quickly, trying not to stare, trying not to seem too stunned. Hajoon definitely did not mention that his friend looked like he walked off a Vogue Homme photoshoot.
Before he could say anything else, his stomach growled. Loudly.
He winced.
Sunghoon blinked once, then broke into a grin, not mocking, but soft, amused. “Let’s go. I know a place.”
“Sorry, I skipped the meals,” Jake mumbled.
“Lucky. Plane food’s terrible anyway.”
Sunghoon reached for Jake’s suitcase without asking, lifting it with ease. Jake didn’t protest. He just followed.
There were no overly rehearsed pleasantries, no questions about his itinerary. No, “So what’s the plan from here?” Just movement.
And that, somehow, unsettled him more than it should have.
He followed Sunghoon through the airport, onto the shuttle, and from the station to his hotel downtown. When they arrived at the lobby, Sunghoon handed Jake his suitcase and didn’t move past the front doors.
“I’ll wait here,” he said simply.
That small act, the space, the unspoken respect, made Jake instantly more comfortable. No unnecessary chatter, no awkward pressure. He appreciated that.
He rushed upstairs, freshened up, and within ten minutes was back down again.
They headed toward Dotonbori, the lights glowing brighter as they entered the heart of the city. Jake couldn’t help but stare as the Glico Man billboard loomed above the river, all neon arms and eternal victory.
“I can take a photo of you later,” Sunghoon offered casually.
Jake shook his head, almost laughing. “No, thanks.”
“You tired?”
“Not really. Slept through the whole flight.”
Sunghoon smiled. “Okay. Let’s go.”
They turned down a narrow side street and soon entered a warm, cozy ramen shop. Ichiran.
“It’s my favorite,” Sunghoon said, guiding Jake to a cubicle-style seat separated by wooden dividers. “Perfect if you’re traveling alone. No pressure to talk. Just you and the ramen.”
Jake looked around, fascinated. “I didn’t even know restaurants like this existed.”
Sunghoon ordered in rapid, fluid Japanese, and it floored Jake how natural it sounded. Not rehearsed. Lived-in.
“You’re really fluent.”
Sunghoon glanced over, amused. “I told Hajoon. Japan’s like my second home.”
“He never mentioned you speak this well.”
Sunghoon chuckled. “Did he mention we actually first met in Osaka?”
Jake blinked. “What?”
Sunghoon nodded, sipping water. “Yeah. Both our families were here. Total coincidence. Found out we were both Korean. Became friends after that. Ended up in the same high school back home.”
Jake leaned back, eyebrows raised. “That sounds like fate.”
“Maybe,” Sunghoon said with a casual smile. “Or maybe the world just knows how to keep certain people circling back to each other.”
Jake didn’t answer that. He was still trying to absorb the idea that Hajoon and this stunningly fluent, almost-too-handsome guy had shared that kind of history. But Sunghoon didn’t give off any strange energy, no jealousy, no rivalry. Just warmth.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Sunghoon added, watching him.
Jake blinked. “Oh?”
“All good things,” Sunghoon said quickly. “He talks about you like you’re his compass. Someone who keeps him grounded.”
Jake laughed under his breath. “That sounds like Hajoon.”
Sunghoon tilted his head slightly. “So, are you saying yes?”
Jake stiffened, surprised. “You know about that?”
Sunghoon just shrugged. “He told me. Not the details. Just that he gave you something. And he’s waiting.”
Jake hesitated, then reached for the chain around his neck and pulled out the ring, simple, gold, no gems, no noise. Just clean design and quiet elegance.
Sunghoon’s eyes flicked to it, briefly, and something unreadable passed over his face. A tiny shift, like an inhale he didn’t quite take.
He nodded once, slower this time. “Nice choice.”
“Right?” Jake looked down at it, turning the metal between his fingers. “Simple. Clean. It’s me. I didn’t even think Hajoon noticed what I liked.”
Sunghoon’s gaze didn’t move. “Maybe he asked the right questions.”
Jake smiled. “Well, for once, he got it right.”
Their food arrived soon after, and Jake let himself drown in the taste, rich broth, firm noodles, the heat and steam cutting through the last bit of travel fog in his mind. Everything tasted better than he expected.
Later, Sunghoon walked him back to the hotel. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t overly familiar. It was just comfortable.
At the doors, Sunghoon gave a small wave. “See you tomorrow?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah.”
“We’ll head to Namba Yasaka Shrine.”
Jake smiled, already picturing the giant lion head he’d only ever seen in photos. “Sounds good.”
He watched Sunghoon disappear into the shifting crowd, then headed up to his room.
He called his mom first, quick, warm, reassuring.
Then he tried Hajoon. No answer. He stared at the screen a moment, then typed,
Landed safely. Met your friend. He’s something else. You really didn’t prepare me, huh?
I’m going to bed. We’re heading out early. Hope things are okay over there.
He hit send, tucked the phone away, and lay back on the unfamiliar bed. The ring was still warm against his chest.