The late afternoon sun streamed through the cafe windows, casting long shadows across the polished wood of the tables. Jimin was wiping down a counter when the door opened with a soft chime. He didn't think much of it at first, focusing on the order in front of him, but when he looked up, his heart skipped a beat.

Ayane.

She stood just inside the door, scanning the space with her usual reserved expression. She wore a simple coat, her hair tied back loosely. The aura of refinement she carried with her was undeniable, yet there was something oddly out of place about her presence here, in a cafe like this.

"Hey," Jimin greeted her with a smile, walking toward her as he wiped his hands on his apron. "What brings you here?"

Ayane's eyes flickered briefly to him before she let out a quiet sigh and stepped further inside. "I wanted to talk," she said softly, her voice just loud enough to reach his ears over the murmur of other patrons.

Jimin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sure. You can sit down."

He led her to a corner booth, away from the main traffic of the cafe. After he set the menu down in front of her, he took a seat across from her, his posture casual, but there was an air of uncertainty. Ayane had never come to him for anything like this before. He wasn't sure what was coming next.

"Are you going to order anything?" Jimin asked, noticing she wasn't looking at the menu.

"I'm fine," she replied, her eyes flickering down briefly, a sign of hesitation. "I just... wanted to talk."

Jimin leaned back slightly, giving her a relaxed smile. "Okay. What's on your mind?"

There was a long pause. Ayane's gaze shifted out the window, her fingers tracing the edge of the table as though contemplating how much to reveal. Finally, she spoke, but her words were quieter, more vulnerable than he had ever heard from her.

"It's been hard. My parents... they don't even know I exist sometimes." She let out a bitter laugh, more to herself than to Jimin. "They're too busy with their work to even care about anything else. I'm just a trophy to them. Someone to show off."

Jimin's expression softened, but his gaze was still skeptical. He had heard about how distant Ayane's parents were, but the way she spoke made it sound more like an abstract problem, not something tangible that was truly affecting her life.

"That sounds tough," Jimin said, his voice more measured than he intended. "But... you have everything, right? You're rich, you're from a respected family. You go to the best schools, live in a mansion, have servants. Why should this bother you so much?"

Ayane's eyes snapped to his, a hint of surprise flickering in them. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, her voice colder now.

Jimin leaned forward slightly, trying to explain in a way that wouldn't sound too harsh, but he didn't know how to put it any differently. "I mean... it's not like you're struggling, Ayane. Your life might not be perfect in the way you want it, but you're still living a life most people dream of. You're surrounded by luxury, you get whatever you want, and you're not living paycheck to paycheck. You don't have the problems that most people do. So why focus on the things you can't change?"

The words were out before he could stop them, and he instantly regretted them. He could see Ayane's face change, her expression turning from vulnerable to something unreadable, then icy. Her fingers curled tightly around the edges of the table, and the silence between them became heavy.

Jimin didn't notice the shift at first, too caught up in his own thoughts, but when Ayane's face hardened, his words faltered. She stood up abruptly, and he looked up, blinking in confusion.

"Why does it always have to be like that?" Ayane asked coldly, her voice low. "You think my life is perfect because of my wealth and status, don't you? That it makes everything easier, that it makes the pain go away."

Jimin opened his mouth, but she raised a hand, cutting him off.

"You don't know anything about me, Jimin," she said with a harshness he hadn't expected. "You don't know what it's like to have everything and still feel like nothing. To be surrounded by people who claim to care, but don't even notice when you're drowning inside. You think I'm lucky. You think I have it easy, but you don't understand what it's like to be trapped in this gilded cage. I never asked for any of it."

Jimin's throat tightened, and his stomach sank. He opened his mouth again, but the words didn't come. He couldn't find anything to say that would fix what he had just broken.

Ayane stepped away from the table, the coldness in her gaze never leaving him. "I thought you might understand, but I guess I was wrong."

Without another word, she turned and left, her footsteps clicking sharply against the floor as she walked out of the cafe, leaving Jimin in a stunned silence.

He stood there for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking into him. He had meant to comfort her, to make her see that she wasn't alone in her struggles, but instead, he had made it worse. The realization hit him hard, and he felt an uncomfortable sting in his chest.

Her life wasn't perfect, and she was right-he had no idea what it was like to live in her shoes. He had misjudged her, and now, he wasn't sure if he could ever fix it.

---

That evening, the walk back home felt longer than usual. Jimin's feet dragged against the pavement, his mind heavy with the weight of his conversation with Ayane. He replayed her words over and over in his head, trying to make sense of them. But the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became.

He entered his small apartment and threw his shoes off at the door with more force than necessary. The usual familiarity of his home-quiet, modest, and lived-in-didn't comfort him tonight. It only reminded him of how different his life was from hers, how much he had misunderstood everything.

He walked to his room, slamming the door behind him before flopping down onto his bed. His hands ran through his hair in frustration, as if trying to pull out some clarity from his tangled thoughts.

Why couldn't she just see how lucky she was? He thought, clenching his fists. Why does she have to complain about everything when she has everything most people could ever dream of?

The thought made him angry. He hated the feeling that something inside him was wrong. I'm just trying to help her, he told himself. She doesn't understand, but maybe she'll realize someday.

But even as he said it, he knew that wasn't enough. She was right-he didn't understand her pain. And the more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. He felt helpless.

His thoughts wandered to his own life. Despite the struggles, the hardships, the constant worry over money, the pressures from his family-he had always had a sense of purpose. He wasn't alone. His family was imperfect, yes, but they loved him. They cared.

But Ayane... she had everything, and still, it wasn't enough. She felt invisible to her own parents. The weight of her isolation, her struggle to be seen for who she really was, had shaken him. She doesn't deserve to feel like that, he thought bitterly.

Jimin stood up from his bed and walked over to the window. The lights of the city flickered outside, the sounds of the street below drifting up to him. He stared out, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon.

He didn't know why he was so frustrated-so angry-but it all seemed so unfair. She had everything, yet she felt like she had nothing. And he, with his simple life, was... well, fine, but that's all. He didn't even know why he was trying so hard to understand someone like her.

Without thinking, he turned toward the window, as if asking the city itself. "If she doesn't want a life like that," he muttered aloud, "then... why can't it just be mine?"

He stared at the quiet, endless expanse of the city lights, feeling small in comparison to the world around him. "I would take it," he continued, more to himself than anyone else. "I'd take her life. If it would make her happy. If it means... if it means she wouldn't feel like she's drowning in all of this."

There was no answer, of course-no voice from the heavens or miracle to change his life. But in that moment, he felt a strange sense of resignation mixed with frustration. He had wished so badly to understand her, to make things better for her, but all he could do was stand there, helpless, watching it all unfold in front of him.

In the stillness of the night, he sighed deeply and walked back to his bed, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

---

That night, Ayane returned to her room, the world outside feeling colder than it had all day. She had tried to push down the ache in her chest after leaving the cafe, but the more she thought about her conversation with Jimin, the harder it became to ignore. The frustration, the sting of his words, it all swirled together into a ball of bitterness inside her.

She closed the door behind her with a soft click and leaned against it for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. Her room was grand, beautifully decorated, just like the rest of the house, but it felt so... empty.

She crossed the room slowly, her gaze fixed on the large mirror in front of her. She didn't recognize the girl staring back at her. She looked beautiful, perfect even, but that wasn't who she was. Not really.

She reached for her desk and picked up the half-finished painting she had worked on the other day. It had been her way of expressing herself, of trying to make sense of her emotions, but even the strokes of paint now seemed distant. Her life felt like a carefully crafted illusion, something beautiful on the outside but hollow inside. And no matter how hard she tried to explain it to Jimin, he would never understand.

Her frustration began to boil over.

"Why doesn't anyone get it?" she whispered to herself, the tears finally starting to well up. "Why does he think my life is so perfect? Why doesn't he see? It's not fair. It's not fair..."

The emotions she had been bottling up for so long finally spilled over, and before she knew it, the tears were falling, one after another, soaking her cheeks. She collapsed onto her bed, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold in the hurt.

I just want someone to understand. I want someone to care, she thought, her chest tightening. But no one does. No one except me...

She buried her face in her pillow, muffling the sobs that racked her body. The weight of her thoughts, of her isolation, felt unbearable. Her parents didn't care. Jimin didn't understand. No one saw the real her. And it hurt. It hurt in a way she couldn't explain.

Through her tears, she whispered into the darkness, a desperate wish escaping her lips. "If he thinks my life is so perfect, then let him live it. Let him be me, let him see what it's really like. Let him feel it. I want him to understand."

She squeezed her eyes shut, the words leaving her like a prayer to the universe. "I wish he could live my life... so he could understand..."

The silence of the room enveloped her as she lay there, exhausted and defeated, but even as the tears continued to fall, she couldn't shake the feeling that, somewhere out there, Jimin's words were still echoing in her mind.

And in that moment, she wasn't sure if the world could ever truly understand her.

- Continue