INK AND SHADOWS [???]

The streets flew by in a blur as Jay rode through the city with Hara clinging lightly to him.

The wind rushed past them, and the hum of the motorcycle filled the silence between them.

Jay couldn't help but smile under his helmet. Having Hara this close felt comforting, like she was finally his—finally back where she belonged.

When they reached their destination, Jay pulled the bike to a stop in front of a quaint, famous café.

Hara hopped off the bike, brushing her hair back into place as she looked around, confused.

"Why are we here?" she asked.

Jay smirked as he unstrapped his helmet. "I heard they have new menu items I wanted to try. Plus, I didn't want to look like a loner."

Hara raised a brow, clearly not buying it. "And your besties? Jake and Sunghoon?"

"They're busy," Jay said with a shrug. It was a lie, of course, but he wasn't about to admit that he just wanted to spend time with her.

Hara crossed her arms and gave him a suspicious look.

"Don't tell me you're planning to do something crazy, like renting out the whole café for just the two of us."

Jay smirked wider, clearly enjoying her reaction.

"I was about to do that if you wanted some peace and privacy."

"Jay!" Hara scolded, glaring at him.

"Don't waste your money on things like that! Spend it on food instead."

Jay chuckled, finding her flustered reaction endearing.

"Relax. I only reserved a table."

Inside the café, Jay led Hara to the counter, where he confidently told the staff, "I have a reservation for two."

Hara sighed, shaking her head as they were shown to their table.

"What?" Jay asked, feigning innocence as they sat down.

"I didn't rent the whole place. I just made a reservation. This café is famous—you don't want to spend forever waiting in line, right?"

"You didn't have to do that," Hara muttered.

Jay leaned back in his chair, smirking.

"And you'd prefer standing outside for an hour?"

Hara rolled her eyes but couldn't argue. "Fine."

Jay handed her the menu and said, "You decide what you want. I'll go order."

As Hara browsed the menu, her eyes landed on the café's recommendations: strawberry milkshake and strawberry shortcake.

Her hands froze, and a chill ran down her spine.

The word "strawberry" instantly brought back memories she had been trying to suppress.

Her mother's face flashed in her mind, the day she went out to buy strawberries for her... and never came back. The guilt, the pain—it all rushed back like a wave.

She clenched her fists, trying to shake off the trauma.

"Hara?" Jay's voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I-I'm fine," she stammered, forcing a smile.

"I'll have an avocado milkshake and a chocolate croissant."

Jay raised an eyebrow but didn't question her.

He noticed her sudden shift, though. The way her expression darkened when she looked at the menu didn't escape him.

He remembered the story she'd told him about her mother and the strawberries.

When the waiter brought their orders to the table, Hara's mood visibly brightened. She clapped her hands together, excited to dig into the food.

Jay watched her with amusement.

"You're weird, you know that? Avocado milkshake? Really?"

"What's wrong with avocado?" she asked, sipping her drink.

"It tastes weird," Jay said with a grimace.

Hara smirked and slid her drink across the table.

"Try it."

Jay hesitated but eventually took a sip. His face scrunched up in disgust, and he dramatically pushed the glass back toward her.

"That's awful. How do you drink that?"

Hara burst out laughing, her laughter light and infectious.

Seeing her so carefree made Jay's heart swell.

As the laughter subsided, Jay leaned forward, his expression softening.

"Do you still like strawberries?" he asked carefully.

Hara's smile faded, and she shook her head.

"No. I can't even look at them without feeling... everything all over again. If anyone asks, I just tell them I'm allergic to strawberries. It's easier than explaining."

Jay studied her as she spoke. Her voice was steady, but the sadness in her eyes betrayed her.

He could feel the weight of her pain, the guilt she still carried.

"It's not fair," he thought to himself.

She used to love strawberries, and now, because of a tragic memory, she couldn't even enjoy them.

Jay made a silent vow.

He didn't know how yet, but he was determined to help her overcome her trauma—to find a way to make strawberries something she could love again.