#0.
“28,800 won.”
Three palm-sized slices of cake, and the total came out to nearly 30,000 won — Kang Hyeonho was honestly a little shocked, but he didn’t let it show and simply handed over his card without a word.
It wasn’t his money to spend anyway, and since he didn’t eat sweets, none of it was for him either. He was just purely surprised that three tiny little cakes could cost that close to 30,000 won. While the part-timer in front of him processed the payment and packed everything up, Hyeonho took a slow look around the café.
Cakes and drinks this expensive, and it was still packed. Easy money. The thought passed through him like a breeze. Then came the image of his own paycheck — faithfully ticking up no matter how many days and nights he ran himself ragged, holidays included.
When he brought his gaze back to the front, he thought he caught the part-timer’s eyes for a brief moment — but the boy quickly looked away, and his hands moved to tie a pretty ribbon around the top of the packaging box.
Hyeonho looked down at the part-timer’s round crown of hair. The kid still hadn’t quite shed that youthful look — he seemed like a student. Too young-looking to be a proper college student, even. Since this was near a university area, maybe he was a freshman who’d just enrolled. Hyeonho found himself running through little guesses about the boy standing in front of him.
“Here’s the cake you ordered.”
His voice was young too. When he leaned forward to hand the cake over, the distance closed enough that Hyeonho caught a glimpse of soft, smooth cheeks. The boy was small too — a full head shorter than Hyeonho. Probably around 170 centimeters. Barely scraping 170, or the type who couldn’t let go of the decimals and would insist on claiming 171.
“Thank you.”
As Hyeonho took the cake box, he curved his eyes into a smile at the part-timer across from him.
Whenever Hyeonho smiled like that, his fellow detectives would say he smiled like a little kid — didn’t suit his build at all. It was a gentle smile. But the part-timer, probably too busy to bother, pressed his lips together without so much as a flicker of warmth, gave Kang Hyeonho a single once-over, and turned away briskly.
Right, the place is this packed — wringing out pleasantries on top of that must be rough. Emotions take a lot out of you physically.
Hyeonho, understanding the part-timer completely, gathered up the cake box and stepped out of the café. Through the full-length glass windows, the short boy was still moving around busily inside. There seemed to be about three staff members in total, but the short boy was by far the sharpest.
That boy’s doing all the work while the owner pockets all the money. He didn’t seem to have the casual knack for coasting that other part-timers usually developed. Hyeonho scrunched up the bridge of his nose with a pang of sympathy.
The Violent Crimes Unit 1 office, even at the late hour, was empty when he returned. Everyone would be out wrestling with their own cases. Hyeonho set the cake box down gently on the desk of his direct senior and partner detective, Kim Jaeho. As the team’s youngest, Hyeonho was on the receiving end of quite a bit of consideration.
Today had been no different. He’d been sent to a relatively manageable scene, the cooperation during the investigation had gone smoothly, and he’d wrapped up far earlier than the other seniors. When he’d asked Kim Jaeho if there was anything he could help with since he’d finished early, Jaeho had hesitated for a good while before asking if Hyeonho could pick up some cake before the café closed. It seemed like it was for his four-year-old son, whom he was raising alone, so Hyeonho had agreed readily.
Hyeonho had planned to just drop off the cake and head home, but he changed his mind, settled into his seat, and turned on his computer. He figured he’d organize the materials he’d gathered at the scene today before leaving. Hyeonho rubbed his palms together as the dark screen slowly brightened through the boot-up sequence.
Lately, Unit 1 had been chasing a financial fraud organization. It had started as a simple voice phishing case being handled by another team, but when the connected organization turned out to be far larger in scale, the case had eventually been transferred over to Violent Crimes Unit 1. Hyeonho had been tracking the low-level members tied to the operation, and most of them were young.
“I couldn’t get a job. It’s not like I could just starve.”
“Being good just means getting taken advantage of. If you got fooled, that’s on you for being dumb.”
Their faces as they argued their case with such brazen confidence showed little to no trace of guilt. And it wasn’t just them.
Hyeonho shook his head slowly and found himself thinking back to the part-timer he’d seen at the café earlier — working hard all on his own, no tricks up his sleeve.
Since becoming a detective, even though he’d steeled himself for it, every time he came face to face with a horrific case and watched people’s pettiness play out to its very end, Hyeonho had struggled to the point of feeling physically sick. He’d even lost five kilograms. The seniors had told him they’d been the same at first — that he’d find his own way through it soon enough.
He’d wondered if he’d ever really adapt, but just like his seniors had said, as time passed, Hyeonho found his own ways to hold himself together. Watching the neighborhood dogs and cats. And finding comfort in seeing honest people working hard — that was his method.
Hyeonho opened a Word document and began tapping at the keyboard, the boy drifting in and out of his thoughts as he worked.
#1.
“Hyeonho, where was that cake place you went to?”
Hyeonho had been sitting at his desk working on a statement when the voice caught him off guard and he looked up. The way Kim Jaeho had walked right up to his desk and asked was perfectly serious — but the question itself was just about a cake shop.
Cake? The word didn’t register immediately, and Hyeonho tilted his jaw at a slight angle.
“About a week ago, the cake place you picked up from. Seems like he likes it.”
Kim Jaeho had come right up to the edge of his desk by then, adding those words, and only at that did Hyeonho let out a soft ah and nod. It seemed he was talking about the cake one of them had picked up while coming back to the office earlier — the three pieces that had come out to nearly 30,000 won.
Hyeonho started to explain the location, then stopped. The café wasn’t far from the station, but it was a little complicated to put into words. He could use the chance to air out his head from all the statement-writing, and grab a coffee while he was at it. Hyeonho stood up from his seat and pulled his jacket off the back of the chair.
“I’ll go get it.”
“No, I’ll——”
“I need to clear my head anyway, and get a coffee. Want me to grab you one too?”
Kim Jaeho looked like he wasn’t thrilled about sending Hyeonho on a personal errand — he pressed his lips together in that characteristically blunt way of his and seemed to think it over for a moment. But when Hyeonho cheerfully tossed out, “Besides, I’ve been wanting to slack off a little,” Jaeho pulled a card out of his wallet and held it out. “Iced Americano for me.” Tacking on a coffee order while he was at it.
The news had apparently announced the start of spring not long ago, but the wind that brushed past the tip of Hyeonho’s nose was still cold. Coming out from the office with its heater blasting made it feel even colder. He pulled his coat tighter and quickened his pace.
Past the intersection, cutting through the alley between buildings — and there it was: the café with Tesoro written across the front. He pushed open the heavy glass door, and the warm rush of air and the smell of baking bread hit him all at once. Hyeonho felt his hunched shoulders loosen and his expression ease. He got cold easily, so this felt like being brought back to life.
“Welcome.”
It was around ten in the morning on a weekday, so the café looked calmer than it had last time. The boy who’d been working so noticeably hard that day gave a small nod of his head in greeting as Hyeonho walked in.
He felt a small, inexplicable gladness. He’s working in the morning too. Last time it was late in the afternoon. Full-time? Then when does he go to school? A little flicker of curiosity about the boy surfaced in the brief moment.
Hyeonho scanned the row of cakes lined up inside the display case, and only then realized he hadn’t thought to ask Kim Jaeho which cake he wanted. What am I supposed to get. He didn’t think Jaeho was likely to eat it himself, anyway. As far as Hyeonho knew, Jaeho wasn’t the type to eat sweets, and the way he’d said “seems like he likes it” had given him that impression.
Hyeonho glanced toward the counter. He’d been thinking of asking the part-timer to recommend something suitable. And he’d wanted to try striking up a conversation, too.
“What’s good here?”
The boy’s gaze drifted slowly over to Hyeonho. His brows knitted together briefly before relaxing — probably annoyed at being pestered in the middle of his shift.
“Ah, I just don’t really know much about cakes.”
Seems like trying to make small talk had backfired. Hyeonho scratched the front of his brow, looking a little sheepish. The boy stared at him for a moment, then dropped his gaze to the display case and pointed to three cakes in order. It was a gesture with absolutely no trace of deliberation — genuinely, thoroughly perfunctory.
“Works for me. I’ll take those three. And two iced Americanos to go.”
Hyeonho said that was fine and asked for the three cakes the part-timer had pointed out to be packaged up. Right, there’s no real need to be friendly. Not like the owner pays you more for it. He tucked away his embarrassment and settled into a seat at the table near the counter to wait.
While waiting for the cakes and coffee he’d ordered, he was scrolling idly through the top news on his phone when three people who looked like local regulars filed into the café side by side. Hyeonho reflexively glanced up at the sound, and then just — stopped.
The boy was smiling as he greeted the customers. Those stubbornly closed lips were now lifted at the corners, his head dipping in a bow, eyes curving into a smile.
Oh. He can smile. It was a complete flip from how he’d been with Hyeonho. Seeing the part-timer who’d seemed so prim and reserved smile like that — he looked different. Hyeonho felt a small, silly pang of something. Especially after having been snubbed just a moment ago.
“Try the raspberry cake today. I came up with it fresh a couple days ago — I think it turned out well.”
He’d taken a seat close to the counter, so the conversation drifted over to him too. When Hyeonho had asked him for a recommendation, the boy hadn’t said a word — and now he was proactively suggesting things to the customers in front of him.
When the boy had finished taking their order with a smile still on his face, he finished preparing Kang Hyeonho’s cakes and the two iced Americanos, tucking them neatly into a carrier. Hyeonho figured everything was ready and got up from his seat to approach the counter. He took the neatly packaged cake box and the carrier with the Americanos, and looked at the boy. He’ll smile at me too, the same way he did for those customers just now — and so, anticipating it, Hyeonho smiled first, his eyes curving warmly.
“Thank you.”
