Chapter 5.1

The dusk had settled deeply over the city of Yeouido.  

As Su-eon passed through the exit, she removed the employee ID hanging around her neck and tucked it into a pocket inside her bag. She crouched down and tightened the laces of her running shoes.  

When she straightened her body, a light dizziness swept over her, and her vision blurred momentarily before coming back into focus. Lunch had been coffee, and dinner was just a sandwich. She knew the fatigue would build up, but neglecting her health felt like one of the few privileges remaining in her twenties.  

Looking up at the night sky, where the moon shone unusually brightly, Su-eon gathered her long hair and tied it up high. She fastened her blazer tightly, slung her leather crossbody bag with a water bottle inside onto her back, and began lightly rotating her ankles in preparation for running.  

It was then that the light sound of a car horn, as if someone had tapped it with their fist, broke the stillness. Su-eon stopped moving and looked up.  

In front of a sedan with its hazard lights blinking stood Ki Seung-jo. He had reached through the driver’s side window and pressed the horn softly, ensuring only Su-eon could hear it.  

“…You haven’t left yet?”  

“Get in. I’ll drop you off on the way.”  

“No, today…”  

Before she could finish, Seung-jo held up his phone screen to show her.  

“It’s 30 degrees right now.”  

As if to prove his point, the temperature graph on the screen displayed a sharp peak. Still, she had been looking forward to running for once.  

“You’ll collapse if you run in this weather.”  

“It’s not that bad…”  

“You didn’t look well earlier today either.”  

Under his steady gaze, Su-eon unconsciously rubbed the back of her neck. The heat and humidity in his eyes seemed even heavier than the oppressive summer night.  

“I won’t make you uncomfortable. Just get in.”  

Seung-jo spoke firmly.  

“I won’t ask anything, and I’ll drop you off at home quietly.”  

“…”  

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll swear on it.”  

Seeing her remain silent, Seung-jo played his trump card.  

“I swear on the name of my great-grandfather, the founder of K.U.—”  

“Okay, stop.”  

Su-eon looked at him in disbelief. 

All this trouble, just to get me into the car? The already steamy night air seemed to grow even hotter with his presence.  

Maybe she should just get in. It really was hot.  

She had come out fully prepared to run, but now that an easy alternative stood right in front of her, she found herself hesitating, as any human would.  

Sensing her indecision, Seung-jo delivered the final blow.  

“If you really want to run, do it in your neighborhood. A park is better than the side of the road, isn’t it?”  

Taking a deep breath, Su-eon finally raised her head.  

“…Fine, I’ll get in.”  

Inside the car, where Classical FM played softly at a low volume, silence prevailed throughout the drive.  

As soon as Su-eon sat down on the smooth brown leather seat, the pleasant coolness of the air conditioning relaxed her, and by the time the car left Yeouido, she had dozed off lightly.  

She woke up again as they crossed the Olympic Bridge, where the traffic had cleared. The destination displayed on the navigation screen—Jeongdok Library—wasn’t far now.  

Seung-jo pulled over at a corner with a convenience store.  

“Which way is your house?”  

Su-eon pointed toward an uphill road that stretched out along a narrow one-lane street.  

“It’s close enough to walk. There’s no place to turn the car around up there, so it’d be better if you left from here, Executive Director.”  

It wasn’t entirely true, but she didn’t want to ride in Ki Seung-jo’s car all the way to her doorstep. It wasn’t a matter of whether his status made him trustworthy or not—it was simply her own preference.  

This was a habit Su-eon had developed after living independently from an early age. Just as she didn’t easily let people into her personal space, she also hesitated to reveal where she lived. And every time, the other person inevitably took offense.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay going alone?”  

“…Pardon?”  

“It looks a little dangerous.”  

Seung-jo raised his reluctant gaze toward the dark, silent residential area. It was the first time someone looked at the picturesque hanok alley—praised by others for its charm—with such suspicion, and it made Su-eon laugh.  

She had lived there for years, but no one had ever described Bukchon as dangerous.  

“This isn’t a dangerous neighborhood.”  

“It’s not the neighborhood. It’s always the people.”  

Muttering something cryptic, Seung-jo squinted up at the streetlight.  

“Does the CCTV work properly here? It’s so dark it might as well not exist.”  

“It’s really fine. It’s just a short walk.”  

“Call me when you get home.”  

“…Call you?”  

“You didn’t text me last time.”  

Only then did Su-eon understand what he meant.  

“I thought you were just saying that.”  

The kind of polite, customary remark people often make—asking someone to let them know when they’ve arrived safely. Su-eon had deliberately not contacted him, knowing full well it could be misunderstood. She simply didn’t want to go so far as to play the part of being Jung Cho-ah.  

“I waited a long time.”  

His plain tone lightly pricked at Su-eon’s guilt.  

“This time, call me right away.”  

“…”  

“I don’t like waiting.”  

Thinking how strangely commanding his words felt, Su-eon nodded.  

“Alright.”  

“There you go, being stiff again.”  

Despite the tone of his words being critical, a light smile flickered across Seung-jo’s eyes. Even though Su-eon knew he was someone who smiled often, the short distance between their gazes made her feel slightly embarrassed. She turned her eyes toward the car window.  

The tension created by the enclosed space grew larger in the silence.  

Just as she was about to say she should leave, her gaze met Seung-jo’s eyes reflected in the glass. His eyes, deep like the ocean, were fixed on her. Her heart pounded erratically.  

The memory of sitting by the Han River, where a lukewarm breeze blew, and the searing kiss that felt like a bite, came rushing back.  

Like that day, Su-eon quietly bit her lip. Her heart was pounding so loudly that even the silence felt deafening. Forcing herself to break the silence, she opened her mouth.  

“Um, earlier. With Chief Jung Cho-ah…”  

After a moment of persistent staring, Seung-jo finally spoke in a relaxed tone.  

“Nothing happened.”  

When Su-eon looked at him skeptically, he raised one eyebrow slightly.  

“She just stomped off. Why? Did she say something?”  

After that, there had been a string of sales meetings, leaving no time for personal conversations. Jung Cho-ah had sulked with a pouty face throughout, but she had left the hotel early to attend an unavoidable dinner gathering.  

“Did you think I might’ve fought with her?”  

It was entirely possible. Hadn’t he already demonstrated his capability for that? Reading Su-eon’s expression, Seung-jo let out a soft chuckle.  

“I just played along. The two of you were so cute.”  

Su-eon’s brow furrowed slightly, not fully understanding what he meant by “cute.” Was he belittling them because they were women? Even if that were the case, she couldn’t argue, as Jung Cho-ah’s response had been utterly inadequate. Still, as always, Su-eon had backed down when it came to her.  

After all, the world was full of third-generation chaebols more spoiled than Jung Cho-ah. At least she wasn’t addicted to alcohol or drugs, nor did she throw wild s*x parties. At worst, she wasted time playing games and being lazy—a relatively wholesome third-generation heir.  

A child lacking love, suffering from an emotional void.  

“You two seemed quite close. Not just as boss and employee.”  

Su-eon understood what he was implying. It must have looked like there were no boundaries. With a practiced expression, she opened her mouth.  

“I grew up in her house when I was young.”  

Her explanation was brief. Most people couldn’t accept such a simple explanation and would dig for more details. Usually, they wanted to know if the two were related by blood.  

After hearing her denial, they would tilt their head in confusion. Eventually, Su-eon would reveal that her father worked for Jung Cho-ah’s family. What followed was always a long silence. By now, Su-eon had grown comfortable with such endings.  

“I see.”  

Before she could even consider which side he was taking, Ki Seung-jo gave a subtle nod, his expression oddly sharp. His dissatisfied demeanor and unreadable gaze carried a faint trace of unpleasantness.  

“She was like a spoiled brat clinging to her mother.”  

“…It wasn’t to that extent.”  

As Su-eon raised her walls again, Seung-jo’s eyes sparkled mischievously.  

“Not to that extent, really, Mother?”  

“…”  

“You’re like a hedgehog.”  

She hadn’t expected him to make such a joke. Su-eon looked at him with a puzzled expression before realizing something. His lack of understanding about her relationship with Jung Cho-ah meant that he hadn’t seen that old article.  

So, he really didn’t see it.  

As Su-eon briefly revisited the past, she quickly understood. Back then, Ki Seung-jo’s family had been mourning a major loss, his family registry had been reorganized, and he had left for the United States. He wouldn’t have had the time or energy to pay attention to a minor political publicity article.  

The fact that there was even one person unaware of her embarrassing past gave Su-eon a strange sense of relief, along with a feeling of solidarity. She wasn’t the only one who had been trapped in a long, dark tunnel during that time.  

But that didn’t mean the emotional distance between them had closed. After all, the depth of the tunnel wasn’t the same for everyone.  

“Thank you for everything today. For giving me a ride, and for everything else.”  

Her gratitude also extended to how Seung-jo had handled Jung Cho-ah’s rudeness earlier. But Seung-jo didn’t respond and simply stared at her.  

“Well, take care on your way home.”  

With her heart feeling a little lighter, Su-eon offered her final farewell. There was no longer any need for lies or continued encounters. This would truly be the end.  

After bowing her head, Su-eon stepped out of the car. On Bukchon-ro, which fell silent as though dead at night, only the sound of her footsteps echoed. There was no sound of the car moving as her steps stretched into the distance.  

When Su-eon’s figure had completely disappeared from view, Seung-jo stepped out of the car. The soft sound of her footsteps, which had cast a gentle shadow over the low stone wall, bounced off the wall and returned as a faint echo.  

When even that sound disappeared, Seung-jo pulled out a cigarette, placing it between his lips, and took a deep breath of the damp summer night air. The flowers blooming along the stone walls spread their fragrant scent throughout the alley.  

The quiet alleyway, lined with slumbering hanok houses, reminded him of Ji Su-eon. It seemed fragile and easily broken, yet it was solid, stubborn, and neatly composed—just like her.  

Seung-jo tied his hair back and, for a moment, imagined Su-eon running down this alley. With a slow sigh, he snapped the cigarette in half. From the summer trees, their branches heavy with green leaves, the sound of insects chirping filled the air.