PTT - 29

The nausea rising through her narrow throat became unbearable. Sensing the wave of sickness, Raon covered her mouth with her right hand. Her scarred hand trembled slightly, its uneven surface a testament to past pain.

As Siheon noticed something amiss while greeting Diane, he approached Raon with concern.

“Yeon. Are you okay?”

“...”

“You don’t look well. Are you feeling sick?”

This was an official setting, and Yoo Raon prided herself on maintaining a strict boundary between work and personal matters. But no amount of self-control could suppress her body’s instinctive reactions. Cold sweat trickled down the nape of her neck beneath her short hair.

Blinking rapidly, she finally lowered her head to avoid his gaze. At this moment, all she wanted was for him to withdraw his attention and leave her alone—she didn’t want anyone to see her in such a vulnerable state.

“Yeon.”

But Siheon had no intention of leaving her side. Worry seeped into his otherwise flawless features. Furrowing his brows, he gently grasped her shoulder and tilted his head, silently urging her to meet his eyes and speak.

“...I’m sorry. I suddenly feel unwell.”

“Oh my. Are you not feeling well? You’ve seemed off since earlier.”

Mabel, who had been chatting casually with Diane, rushed over with a startled expression. Her loud voice drew the attention of Ray and Rock as well. The sudden focus only made Raon’s nausea worse.

Forcing a shake of her head to signal she was fine, Raon bit down hard on the tender lining of her mouth. Her mind went blank, and she felt as though she might faint at any moment.

“I’m... fine. Excuse me for a moment. I’ll go to the restroom.”

“Can you manage on your own? Maybe Mabel should go with you...”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’ll be back soon. Please don’t worry.”

“Yeon. If you’re not feeling well, it’s okay to leave early today.”

Siheon frowned deeply at Raon’s visibly troubled state. Was this because he hadn’t let her rest last night, pushing her too far in the throes of passion? A surge of anger rose within him—not at her, but at himself for succumbing to desire and depriving her of even a few hours of sleep.

But Raon merely shook her head, gently pulling away from his touch. With a trembling voice, she murmured:

“Just for a moment... excuse me.”

Without looking back, Raon opened the conference room door and staggered toward the restroom. She looked as though she might collapse at any second.

Her fingertips grew weak, and her ears felt muffled, as if submerged deep underwater. Sounds around her echoed like reverberations, and her vision blurred into whiteness.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, Raon managed to reach the restroom and enter the first stall. Before she could fully close and lock the door, she couldn’t hold back any longer and vomited into the toilet.

“Ugh...”

Perhaps it was because the only thing she’d consumed recently was milk. Along with clear liquid, bile spilled out, leaving her head pounding and her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Tears welled up involuntarily as she sat there, dazed, for several minutes. She knew she needed to get up, return to the meeting—but her legs refused to cooperate.

“It can’t be true...”

Her right hand throbbed painfully, the scars still visible after years. That hand—broken by repeated strikes from a golf club, drenched in blood, rendered unable to shoot ever again—had once driven her to despair.

“No, it can’t be. It shouldn’t be...”

Muttering to herself in the empty stall, Raon’s eyes momentarily lost their light. Though more than ten years had passed, the mere memory of that day churned her stomach.

How could she forget those five agonizing hours trapped in the warehouse, clutching her shattered, numb right hand? Her grandmother’s face, weeping and wailing that it was all her fault, remained vivid as if replaying on a screen.

Why had these memories, which she had buried deep within herself for years, resurfaced now?

“She looks just like her... uncannily so.”

The woman named Diane standing beside Baek Siheon bore an uncanny resemblance to the middle school girl who had tormented Raon fifteen years ago.

Long brown hair reaching her chest, rosy cheeks, and that soft yet cutting voice—it was all eerily familiar. Raon knew Diane wasn’t the same person, but her body reacted instinctively, beyond her control.

“She’s just someone who looks similar. There’s no way that senior is part of the organization now.”

Staring blankly at the restroom tiles, Raon forced herself to stand, summoning strength into her legs. Closing the toilet lid and flushing, she tried to convince herself that the PTSD tormenting her had washed away along with the bile.

No—it would never truly disappear. But she desperately wanted to deceive herself into believing she was fine. Without doing so, she feared she wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

Raon stood before the sink, her reflection in the large mirror appearing impossibly small.

She had vowed to remain unshaken by any adversity as an intelligence agent, executing missions flawlessly. Yet here she was, crumbling at the sight of a new teammate.

Shhh. Cold water streamed from the faucet. Weakly rinsing her mouth and grabbing a tissue, she froze as a soft, gentle voice sounded behind her. In that instant, goosebumps erupted on her arms once more.

“Are you alright?”

“...”

“I didn’t get to properly introduce myself earlier. You didn’t look well, so I was worried.”

Yoo Raon slowly turned her body. Still holding the tissue, she found Diane standing before her, wearing the same gentle smile as before.

Due to the height difference, Raon’s gaze naturally tilted upward. In Diane’s dark eyes, her own reflection stared back. Her body stiffened like a log, but knowing she couldn’t just stand there silently, Raon forced herself to speak.

“...Yes, I suddenly felt unwell. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I heard you were sick. Here, drink some water. It’s a new bottle.”

Diane extended the bottled water toward Raon, her expression a mix of pity and curiosity. Though Raon wanted nothing from her at this moment, rejecting someone’s kindness outright would be impolite. 

Carefully taking the bottle, Raon tried to twist off the cap, but her sweaty palms caused it to slip repeatedly.

“Let me help. Shouldn’t you head home early, as Team Leader suggested?”

“...No, it’s fine. I just felt a bit nauseous. There’s nothing wrong with my health.”

With a soft smile, Diane opened the cap for her and handed over the cold bottle. The icy water flowed down Raon’s throat, and she felt a little more alert. After drinking nearly half the bottle in one go, she exhaled softly.

‘She can’t possibly be that person.’

The Ahn Young Raon knew was the precious daughter of a wealthy chaebol family. Rumor had it that she returned to the U.S. immediately after middle school and enrolled in a prestigious Ivy League university. To inherit her father’s business, she chose to major in business administration.

That was as far as Raon’s knowledge went. She hadn’t sought further information, nor did she want to know the current status of the person who had mercilessly tormented her.

Thus, the likelihood of Diane—the woman now standing before her as a fellow NIS agent—being that Jeong Ah-young was exceedingly slim. Even if Ah-young had somehow returned to Korea, what were the chances of meeting her here among all possible workplaces?

If Raon could convince herself that Diane was merely someone who resembled Ah-young, there’d be no reason to feel troubled. Wiping away the beads of cold sweat on her forehead, Raon spoke in a subdued tone:

“Excuse me. My name is Yeon. Nice to meet you. I’ll do my best moving forward.”

“As I mentioned earlier, call me Diane. I’m looking forward to working with such unique colleagues here at the agency.”

“...Yes, I see.”

How wonderful it would be if human emotions could be expressed as objective data, like numbers. If truths could simply validate or invalidate statements without complication.

But the human heart wasn’t something that could be neatly categorized or controlled. Raon’s current state of mind was proof of that. Though she had already convinced herself that Diane wasn’t Jeong Ah-young, an instinctive unease still bubbled up within her. What she needed now was unwavering certainty. Her trembling right hand, which had just calmed down, began to shake again.

‘Is this really okay?’

She questioned herself once more, but reason and instinct remained at odds. Lifting her head, Raon met Diane’s gaze. Her crescent-shaped, smiling eyes seemed devoid of malice.

Yet Raon knew all too well: Jeong Ah-young had also smiled sweetly while pushing her into the abyss.