The café itself had not changed. Same warmth, same coffee smell, same afternoon light thinning across the room. A few minutes earlier, they had simply been two strangers sitting across from each other. Now the awkwardness had not disappeared, exactly. It had leaned a little toward curiosity.
It was a silence that could continue without words, though not exactly a comfortable one. The sounds outside remained steady, but this table felt slightly set apart from the rest of the room. Only after taking another sip of coffee did Joon Sensa speak.
“It just won’t go in,” he said. His hand paused on the page, but he didn’t turn it. “I have to read it, though…” He seemed about to say more, but swallowed the rest before it came out. His eyes were still on the page, but they were no longer reading.
Varen did not touch that silence. Instead, he slowly rolled his cup with his fingertips, watching the coffee inside tremble faintly and settle again before lifting his gaze toward the book. “Textbook?” Varen asked. Joon gave the smallest nod. “Med school.” Only after saying it did he pick up his coffee again, take a sip, and put the cup down with a little more ease than before.
“What I actually liked was something else,” Joon said, his eyes dropping as he continued. “When I was little, I loved making things like robots. Toy cars, too. I liked coding them so I could move them with a remote, make them do what I wanted. Things like that.” For a moment, his eyes brightened. “It was just fun. For no reason. Just…” His voice slowed, and after a brief pause, he added quietly, “I just liked it.”
Then his hand returned to the book. “Now… I don’t really know.” He kept his gaze fixed on the page. “Studying medicine like this… living like this… it’s hard.” The words were heavier than anything he had said so far. After a moment, he added, “No matter how much I try, I don’t feel at ease.” When he finished, his fingers pressed the edge of the page again. Not hard. Just enough to bend it.
“I had a version of that,” Varen said, lightly turning his coffee cup in his hand. “My parents wanted me to go to medical school too. But I couldn’t do it. Just the smell of disinfectant made my stomach turn.” He let out a short laugh. “So I negotiated. I would stay in science, but choose the side that didn’t involve knives.”
He paused for a moment, then continued. “That’s how I ended up in engineering, and eventually became a professor. It wasn’t bad.” There was no bitterness in his voice. “But it never felt completely mine.” He did not explain further. It was already enough.
After hesitating a little longer, Joon finally said what he had been holding back. “But if I quit this… I feel like everything will disappear.” Once the words came out, the air grew heavier again. He shifted his gaze to the cup and continued, “I have a home. My life is stable. My parents take care of everything. And if I just do what I’m told, it’s easier.” He paused, then added, “And if I think about the future, even I know that being a doctor gets more respect.”
A brief smile crossed his face, but he erased it almost immediately. It wasn’t a light smile. It disappeared too quickly, as if he had caught himself making an excuse and agreed with it. “It’s comfortable,” he said. “Honestly.” Varen did not rescue him from the sentence.
For a moment, Varen looked out the window. People continued to pass by, each moving at a different speed. Only after watching them for a while did he speak again. “So that’s why you keep doing it.” Joon nodded, this time without hesitation. “Yes.”
Varen spoke slowly. “The comfort you have now, the stability—those came from somewhere. From a choice you didn’t really want.” Joon’s eyes lowered toward the cup, and Varen continued. “You think that if you don’t choose what you want, it disappears. It doesn’t. It just waits. Annoyingly well, sometimes.” He looked at Joon. “And the thing you’re afraid of works the same way. If you choose what you want, it feels like you’ll lose what you already have.”
“Yes…” Joon answered quietly.
Varen nodded, as if arranging the thought. “In the end, it comes out about the same. Choose comfort, and you carry the suffocation. Choose what you want, and you carry the anxiety.” He paused. “And you may sleep less. Possibly a lot less.” Joon looked down at the cup. “So no,” Varen said. “Neither one is free.”
A brief silence passed.
“So maybe choice isn’t about picking the correct answer,” Varen said. “Maybe it’s deciding what you can carry and still keep walking.”
The sentence was not long. Joon said nothing, but his hand moved slightly on top of the book. The sounds of the café became clear again around them. He did not close the book. His hand remained there.
Still, after a while, Joon said, “Even so… I’m scared people won’t take me seriously if I do what I want.”
Varen lifted his cup, took a sip, and set it down. “In physics, there’s something called the law of conservation of mass.” Joon looked at him quietly, and Varen gave the cup a small shake. “This coffee,” he said, smiling a little. “Whether it’s in the cup…” He paused, drank a mouthful, and tapped his stomach lightly. “…or in here.”
He waited a beat. “Feels completely different,” Varen said. “Amount’s the same.” Joon smiled before he could stop himself. Varen set the cup down. “Life does that too. Unfortunately.”
Joon didn’t answer. He looked from the cup in Varen’s hand to Varen’s face, then let out a small breath. He was not smiling now, but his face had stopped fighting the sentence. Varen saw that and did not add more.
“That’s why choosing is hard,” Varen said, slower this time. “It isn’t only deciding what to pick.” He looked at the book, then back at Joon. “It’s deciding what gets to remain.”
Slowly, Joon lifted his hand from the book. He had not pushed it away, but it no longer seemed attached to him the way it had before. Somewhere in the café, cups clinked. Someone laughed. The door opened and closed, and the sounds began to feel distinct again. Joon picked up his cup, this time with less hesitation, took a sip, and set it down.
Then he said, “…Ah. I see.”
Varen added playfully, “Life Physics 101.”
He said nothing more after that. He simply nodded once.
— The Cult Leader —