Epilogue -- Gate 32

Epilogue Part 1 – Gate 32

The airport was too clean for goodbyes.

Incheon always looked like it had been designed to prevent human mess–glass walls, polished floors, bright lights that made every emotion feel exposed.

Aleem stood with his passport in one hand and his boarding pass in the other, pretending he was a man who traveled all the time.

Which he was.

He had flown in and out of Korea more times than he could count.

But this time felt different.

Because for the first time, he was leaving something behind that he didn’t want to leave.

ABIX lingered with him near the check-in area, doing what they always did–shielding without making it obvious.

Crystal was hovering like a hawk with unspent adrenaline.

Isabelle stood beside her, gentle hand on Crystal’s sleeve like a calming charm.

Ivan stayed a step back, quiet, eyes scanning the crowd the way he did when he didn’t want to admit he cared.

Mina arrived with her friends in a cluster of coats and scarves, hood up, mask on, eyes bright.

Even like this–covered, careful–she drew attention.

But today, she walked straight to Aleem as if the world didn’t exist.

Aleem’s chest tightened.

He tried to keep his face calm.

Failed.

Mina stopped in front of him.

Her eyes crinkled above her mask.

“Hi,” she said.

Aleem’s throat went tight.

“Hi,” he answered, softer than he meant.

Mina looked at his passport, then at the boarding pass.

Then back at him.

“So… you really go,” she murmured.

Aleem gave a small nod.

“I really go.”

Mina’s gaze held his.

“Say it,” she whispered.

Aleem blinked. “Say what?”

Mina’s eyes narrowed playfully, the same mock sternness she’d used in Jeonju.

“Don’t tease,” she said.

Aleem exhaled, almost a smile.

“I choose you,” he said quietly.

Mina’s breath hitched.

“Properly,” she reminded him.

Aleem’s chest warmed.

“Properly,” he repeated.

Mina’s shoulders dropped like she’d been holding them up all morning.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Crystal made a strangled noise behind Aleem.

Isabelle immediately covered Crystal’s mouth.

Ivan looked up from his phone just long enough to give Aleem a look that said you’re doing fine.

Aleem ignored them.

He couldn’t look away from Mina.

Mina’s hands hovered near his coat.

Like she wanted to touch but didn’t know what was allowed here.

In an airport.

Under cameras.

Under lights.

Aleem made the decision for both of them.

He reached out–slowly, openly–offering his hand the way he always did.

Mina didn’t hesitate this time.

She slid her gloved fingers into his.

Cold.

Aleem squeezed gently.

“Your hand is cold,” he murmured.

Mina’s eyes softened. “Because you’re leaving.”

Aleem’s chest tightened so hard it almost hurt.

He didn’t know what to do with that sentence.

So he did what he always did when he didn’t have a clever answer.

He told the truth.

“I don’t want to,” he admitted.

Mina stared.

Then she laughed softly, like she was trying not to cry.

“You have to,” she said.

“I know,” Aleem said.

His thumb brushed the back of her glove, slow.

“But I don’t want to.”

Mina’s gaze dropped to their hands.

Then she whispered, almost shyly, “Can I…?”

Aleem leaned closer. “What?”

Mina’s voice went quieter.

“Pocket,” she said.

Aleem blinked.

Then–because he understood immediately–he lifted his coat pocket open.

Mina slid their joined hands into it like it was a habit.

Like it belonged there.

Hidden warmth.

Private agreement.

Aleem’s chest fluttered.

Mina leaned closer, shoulder pressing into his arm.

“Now you’re not too far,” she murmured.

Aleem’s voice dropped.

“You’re dangerous,” he whispered back.

Mina’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Because I’m sincere?”

Aleem swallowed.

“Yes,” he admitted.

Mina stared at him with that soft, patient attention that made him feel like he was the only person in the terminal.

“Aleem,” she said quietly.

“Mm?”

Mina’s voice shook just slightly.

“Promise me,” she said, “you won’t… disappear when you go back.”

Aleem’s grip tightened in his pocket.

He didn’t laugh.

He didn’t tell her not to worry.

He treated it like the real fear it was.

“I won’t,” he said.

Mina blinked.

Aleem continued, steady.

“I’ll call every night,” he said. “Even if I’m tired. Even if I’m busy. Even if you’re on a set or I’m in a meeting.”

Mina’s eyes shone.

Aleem leaned closer, voice gentler.

“And when it’s hard,” he added, “you tell me. I’ll come.”

Mina stared.

“You say things like it’s easy,” she whispered.

“It’s not easy,” Aleem said. “It’s clear.”

Mina’s breath hitched.

She looked away for a second, like she needed to reset her composure.

Then she looked back up.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Aleem’s heart stumbled.

He wanted to kiss her.

He had kissed her cheek in Jeonju.

Soft.

Careful.

But here–under the bright airport lights–he felt a different kind of boldness.

Not the boldness of a fan.

The boldness of a man who had already chosen.

He lowered his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

Mina froze.

Then her eyes softened.

“Here?” she whispered.

Aleem nodded.

“I won’t do it if you don’t want,” he said. “But I…”

He swallowed.

“I need it,” he admitted.

Mina stared.

Then she exhaled slowly.

“You’re very greedy,” she murmured.

Aleem’s lips twitched. “Only with you.”

Mina’s eyes widened.

Then she laughed softly.

And then–quietly, bravely–she nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Aleem’s breath caught.

He stepped closer–slow enough that she could change her mind.

Mina didn’t move away.

Aleem lifted his free hand and gently adjusted the edge of her hood, fingertips brushing fabric.

Then he leaned in.

Not to her forehead.

Not to the edge of her mask.

This time, he kissed her properly.

A kiss that was still respectful–brief, controlled–but undeniably real.

Through the mask’s edge, through the warmth of breath, through the quiet shock of it.

Mina’s fingers tightened around his in his pocket.

When he pulled back, Mina stared at him like her brain had short-circuited.

“That was…” she whispered.

Aleem’s voice was low. “Proper?”

Mina blinked.

Then she laughed–soft and breathy.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Very proper.”

Crystal made a noise that sounded like she was dying.

Isabelle hugged her from behind like a seatbelt.

Ivan muttered, “Contained.”

Crystal wheezed, “I’M GOING TO PASS OUT.”

Aleem ignored them.

Mina lifted her gloved hand and pressed her fingertips lightly against Aleem’s cheek.

Not to claim.

To remember.

“You’ll call tonight,” she said.

Aleem nodded.

“I’ll call tonight.”

Mina’s eyes shone.

“And you’ll say it again,” she whispered.

Aleem’s chest warmed.

“I choose you,” he said.

Mina’s lips curved under her mask. “Properly.”

“Properly,” Aleem repeated.

Mina squeezed his hand once.

Then she stepped back–reluctant, controlled.

“Go,” she whispered. “Before I follow you.”

Aleem’s throat went tight.

He nodded.

He took one step.

Then Mina called softly, “Aleem.”

He turned.

Mina’s eyes were bright.

“Don’t forget,” she whispered, “I’m not a stage.”

Aleem’s chest tightened.

“I know,” he said.

Mina’s voice softened.

“I’m just… Mina.”

Aleem’s gaze held hers.

“And I’m just Aleem,” he said. “And I’m yours.”

Mina froze.

Crystal’s soul left her body.

Isabelle whispered, “Oh no,” like she was moved.

Ivan looked like he was trying not to smile.

Mina blinked, eyes shining.

Then she nodded.

“Okay,” she whispered.

Aleem turned and walked.

He didn’t look back too many times.

Only twice.

But both times, Mina was still there.

Hand lifted.

Eyes crinkled.

Holding his goodbye like a promise.

And when Aleem finally reached the gate and sat down, heart still racing, his phone buzzed.

From: Mina

Say it again.

Aleem stared.

Then he smiled.

And typed:

I choose you.

A beat.

Properly.

The reply came immediately.

Good.

Aleem exhaled.

Outside the window, his plane waited.

And for the first time in his life, leaving Korea didn’t feel like returning to normal.

It felt like carrying something precious home.