8.
In the evening as the chestnut-brown glow of the sunset slowly faded, Yeon Haejeong sat alone in the empty office — already hours deep into doing nothing but slouching in his chair and tapping idly at his desk. A dark shadow had settled over his face, heavy with something he couldn’t name. The thought that had been turning over in his mind for the past several hours, in that same rigid posture, was always the same.
Why.
Why?
He couldn’t shake the question that had repeated itself hundreds of times. Why.
All he had done was say what he always said — the same things he always said — so why had that face looked so wounded? The guy who had always handled everything he threw at him with ease, with composure, no matter what — why? He had only done what he always did. And on top of that, he hadn’t even been wrong.
Background, standing, environment — not a single thing aligns. Who likes who here. Someone with no parents, no backing to speak of, just a cleaning employee — with me?
Did that even make any sense. It would turn the whole country on its head. He had only said what was obvious. And he had assumed Im Munyeong knew it too — obviously. The guy had said he didn’t even like him anymore, so what could possibly be the problem?
He knew the answer clearly — and yet one side of him kept stinging, kept twisting in that strange, complicated way, as if someone had scratched it open. He’d always found it unbearable to see that face look hurt, no matter what was done to it. Why……
“Ha. I’m losing my mind.”
Yeon Haejeong raked both hands through his hair and let out a low, frustrated sound. Was this even something he should be agonizing over in the first place? When he finally came to himself, he realized he had let hours slip away — enough for the sky to go dark. Over Im Munyeong. His own precious time.
Something is definitely wrong. Recognizing that something about himself had gone deeply off, Yeon Haejeong shot to his feet, stormed out of the office, and got into his car without any particular destination in mind. His face behind the wheel was twisted with something complex — but he pushed the awareness of his own state firmly aside.
He could admit that Im Munyeong had brought about some significant change in him. It was because of Im Munyeong that he had discovered he could hold a man — and the fact that his sexual preferences had shifted after that was something he could freely acknowledge. But that was where it ended. They had run into each other after a long time, and the guy was the same oblivious idiot he’d always been even after more than ten years — and the memory of his first time with a man had resurfaced, becoming a small, brief novelty in his otherwise dull routine. Meaningless. Just like back then — just another trivial incident, nothing more.
If something had gotten strange, all he had to do was go back to what it was before. Yeon Haejeong pulled into the building that housed a lounge bar run by an acquaintance and tossed the keys directly to the parking attendant.
The way things were. Just act the same. Drink carelessly, enjoy himself without restraint, roll around with someone and live the same way as always — things would go back on their own.
Whether the guy got hurt or didn’t was, truthfully, none of his business. Not once in his life had he ever cared about hurting someone. He hadn’t before. He wouldn’t now. And he wouldn’t going forward either.
Yeon Haejeong moved with combative energy. He was going to drink himself senseless the same as any other night, tumble around with someone who struck his fancy, and flush out all this noise cluttering his head.
**
“You’re quitting…?”
Section Chief Jo repeated the words slowly, as if questioning whether he’d heard right. Even faced with a reaction that bordered on shock, Munyeong gave a quiet nod.
“……Yes. I’m truly sorry.”
Knowing that Section Chief Jo had considered him a trusted employee, Munyeong kept his tone respectful.
“No, but why…. No, did something happen…… Ah, is it because of Director Hwang??”
There had been plenty of witnesses that day, so the incident had already spread quietly through the employees. It was only natural that it had reached Section Chief Jo’s ears too. And it wasn’t as though he could have missed it — Director Hwang, humiliated as he was, had called the management team and taken every bit of it out on Section Chief Jo for no reason.
“No. It’s just…… a personal matter of mine……”
“No matter what anyone else says, I believe you, Munyeong. You think you’re the type to do something like that? I trust you completely, so let’s just put that whole incident behind us and——”
“I really am not quitting because of that……”
Munyeong gave an awkward smile toward Section Chief Jo, who was trying his hardest to change his mind.
“You’re really set on quitting?”
“……Yes. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about, but…… I’m just terribly reluctant to let you go. Where am I going to find another employee like you.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Yeah…… If you’re saying it this firmly, what can I do……. Still, if you change your mind, come tell me right away. I happen to love it when people go back on their word.”
Section Chief Jo, seeing Munyeong — usually so easygoing — hold his ground more firmly than ever, seemed to sense that trying to stop him by force would be useless, and made no attempt to hide how much he hated to lose him.
“You’re really…… really quitting……?”
“……Yes. You’ll need to find a replacement, so I’ll finish out the rest of the month.”
“……Right. I’d appreciate that.”
“Yes. Then I’ll take my leave.”
Munyeong bowed politely and turned to go. The moment a trusted employee said he was leaving, Section Chief Jo let out a long sigh first. He couldn’t see how he’d ever find someone like that again. But the worry lasted only a moment — something suddenly occurred to Section Chief Jo, and he called out urgently after Munyeong as he moved to leave.
“Oh — Munyeong!”
At the urgent call, Munyeong turned back — and Section Chief Jo leapt to his feet and hurried over.
“Did you happen to mention this to the Senior Managing Director?”
That was what mattered most. The image of Yeon Haejeong with fire in his eyes over something as minor as a change in cleaning zones came back to Section Chief Jo like a nightmare, and he asked in a fluster. At the mention of Yeon Haejeong’s name, Munyeong’s expression stiffened for a moment — but he kept it carefully contained and answered quietly.
“……You don’t need to tell him.”
“What do you mean by that? I told you. The Senior Managing Director really values you.”
That couldn’t be. He himself had allowed a brief moment of delusion once — but he had never truly let himself hope.
“……He and I went to the same school.”
“What?”
“He looked out for me for a moment because of a brief connection from a long time ago. There’s no deeper meaning or intention behind it than that.”
Munyeong said it with conviction — and Section Chief Jo tilted his head with a puzzled look. The certainty in his tone, so unlike his usual self, seemed to have half-persuaded him, and Section Chief Jo gave a few small nods.
“……Ah, is that so?”
“……Yes.”
“But just because they’re from the same school, that guy wouldn’t go that far……”
Section Chief Jo muttered to himself, still unconvinced. But having been persuaded for now, he said he understood and told Munyeong he could go — and Munyeong gave one more quiet bow and left.
**
The truth was, he had no desire to quit at all. It was the most stable and most cherished job he had ever held in his life — which was why he had kept showing up even after running into Yeon Haejeong again. Even when he had been pushed into the absurd arrangement of attending to him personally, the reason he hadn’t quit was that he genuinely loved this job. There were regular hours in and out. His pay came in honestly and on time. The employees he worked alongside had always treated him warmly. He didn’t have to clean up after anyone’s vomit, and he wasn’t mistreated by whoever was above him. There had been a few small incidents here and there, of course — but they were nothing compared to the brutal work he’d done before.
And he liked being caught up in the current of ordinary people. Watching them come in for work was one of his quiet, small pleasures, and stealing glances at their busy figures from time to time had been a source of strength for him. Watching so many people living their lives with effort had always given him some kind of spark. It was a sight that reminded him — he wasn’t the only one fighting this hard to live.
But perhaps, from the moment he had run into Yeon Haejeong again, some part of him had already anticipated it. That he would eventually arrive at this choice.
If he hadn’t been wounded by those harsh words, if he hadn’t allowed even that smallest moment of delusion — he wouldn’t be quitting. Because not being hurt and not deluding himself would have meant he truly had no feelings left for him. Not even a fragment.
But in the end, those predictable, unkind words had left a sting in his chest. Which meant — he had let himself be shaken by him again. And that fact alone was, to him, something enormous enough to upend his entire everyday life. He wanted to cut it out at the root. Having feelings that were more than ten years old come back to life — it was too much for him to bear. He didn’t want it to begin at all. He simply wanted to go back to the peaceful everyday life that existed before Yeon Haejeong. And to do that, severing the connection felt like the surest way. As long as they didn’t cross paths — as long as things went back to being like strangers — the heart that had wavered for just a little while would settle back down, as if nothing had ever happened.
The problem was that Yeon Haejeong kept calling him out at all hours under the guise of work — and the question was how to gracefully end things. Whether Yeon Haejeong would even accept it quietly.
