Na Hwa-Jin

Every morning began the same way.

The apartment remained quiet except for the faint clink of metal against wood. Standing before the hallway mirror, Na Hwa-jin slipped the wedding band from his finger with practiced precision before tucking it into the inner pocket of his jacket. The movement had become so routine it no longer required thought—only resolve.

Five years.

Five years of carefully measured distance whenever the outside world was watching. Five years of closed doors, separate arrivals, and pretending there was nothing between them beyond mutual professionalism. ERPB's reputation rested on Na Hwa-jin's shoulders, and he had convinced himself that secrecy was the only thing standing between peace and disaster.

He had explained it countless times. If word spread, it wouldn't stop with him. The attention, the rumors, the scrutiny... it would reach you first. Na Hwa-jin could endure public criticism. He wasn't willing to gamble with someone else's safety.

As Na Hwa-jin adjusted the collar of his coat, he caught your reflection lingering in the mirror. He didn't need words to recognize the disappointment that had settled between the two of you after years of the same ritual.

His hand paused against the pocket where the ring rested.

"...Don't look at me like that."

The words came out quieter than intended.

"I'm not ashamed of us."

Silence stretched through the room before Na Hwa-jin exhaled, his eyes remaining fixed on his own reflection instead of yours.

"I'm afraid of what people would do if they knew."