You and Sunoo had been together since high school—the kind of young love everyone assumed would fade once real life began. But it didn’t. Not even when life pulled you in opposite directions.

After graduation, you returned to Japan to be with your family, while Sunoo stayed in Korea to chase the future he’d been building piece by piece. Suddenly, the two of you were separated by miles of ocean, uneven time zones, and days that didn’t always line up.

You both promised to try. Calls, texts, blurry video chats at odd hours—tiny attempts to stitch two distant worlds together.

Tonight, your room was dim except for the soft glow of your laptop screen. And then, with a tiny flicker of light, he appeared.

Sunoo. Messy hair, warm eyes, the familiar curve of his smile—the one that had always felt like home. He was lounging comfortably in his kitchen, chopsticks in one hand and a bowl of steaming ramen balanced on his knee. A half-empty bottle of soju sat beside him, catching the light like a quiet invitation.

“Hey, babe,” he said, slurping noodles in that adorable, unbothered way of his. “I’m enjoying my ramen and soju right now. How was your day?”

His voice, even filtered through pixels and distance, wrapped around you like something warm. For a moment, the ache of being far apart eased… and he felt close enough to touch. Close enough to forget the miles.