Weeks had gone by since Ha Seori, Yuri, and Yura started making those little moves on Minjae. You know, it started with just small stuff. But now it's turned into this kind of regular thing, like a quiet little dance where they're always around, patient and all, woven right into the daily office routine. Their gentle competition never got announced or anything. Still, that undercurrent buzzed across the floor. Lots of people noticed it. Few really got what was going on.
The morning came with the usual routine hum. Screens flickered on. Printers made their low murmurs. Colleagues swapped those surface-level hellos that don't go deep. But Minjae sensed it right away. Someone's attention was warming up against him, like a brush.
Yuri got there first. She walked over slow, not rushing, holding a cup of coffee with steam rising up like some subtle sign.
Good morning, she said. Her voice was soft, held back, like she was testing the space between them. She placed the cup next to his laptop, careful, aligning it just so.
Minjae looked up. His face stayed neutral. Not pushing away though. Thank you. That's kind of you.
Her lips curved a bit. Not a big smile. More steady, smaller. She leaned in a touch. Lowered her voice so it stayed at his desk. If you need help with anything, just let me know.
The cursor blinked on his screen for a second. Waiting. Minjae nodded a little. A tiny warmth showed in his eyes. I might do that.
Yuri kept looking one beat longer than needed. Then she stepped back, not hurried. Left behind this lingering thought.
Later on. When the day's work eased up a bit. Minjae headed to the company's small garden. Yura was there already. Crouched by a planter. Brushing dirt off her hands. Like that simple act kept her grounded.
Need a break, she asked when she saw him. Her eyes lit up bright. That warmth she had always seemed aimed out, not kept inside.
Minjae paused. Then nodded. Joined her. He watched her fix a sprig that leaned too much toward the sun.
People pick up on more than you'd expect, Yura said. Her tone was thoughtful. Carried real weight, not just chit-chat. Especially folks who care quietly.
The words hung there. More like an observation. Not pushing for anything. Minjae took them in. No reply. His quiet wasn't shutting her down. More like thinking it through carefully.
She looked up. Her face softened. We're here. You don't have to handle it all by yourself.
For Minjae, who'd built his whole life on silence and keeping things in, that hit like an odd key against a locked door. He didn't answer. But the quiet between them got deeper. Turned into its own way of saying yeah.
Elsewhere. Ha Seori watched it all.
As HR, she had that quiet authority. Reading more from how people stood or spoke than from any reports or numbers. She caught everything. The way Minjae's eyes flicked to Yuri. That unspoken pause when Yura passed him snacks. The slight tension in his shoulders when kindness got too close.
At the coffee machine. She shared a knowing look with the other two. Their steps came together in this quiet sync.
This is getting interesting, Seori said low. Amused, but calculating too.
Yuri raised an eyebrow. Put down her empty cup. Interesting's one way to put it.
Yura stayed calm like always. Just smiled. We'll see what happens.
The quiet after that felt easy. Not tense. They got it. Sure, they were rivals in a way. But also tied together by knowing the same thing. That Minjae, even if withdrawn, had turned into this quiet hub. Their attentions curved around him.
Meanwhile. Way away from all those office looks. Rennor zeroed in on a whole different game.
In his sleek office. Blinds half-closed against the city's neon mess. He sat with monitors all around. Like a bunch of stars. Each one showed bits of data. Corporate sign-ups. Transactions across borders. Names hidden inside other names, like those nesting dolls.
No distractions, he muttered. Eyes glued to the glowing lines. We're hunting who really pulls the strings.
The target was Hwaryeong Group. Not the public side. Not the listed execs. But those hidden hands behind shell companies and fake boards.
They're buried deep, Rennor said to himself. Fingers tapped impatient on the desk. But nobody stays totally mark-free.
Ownership lines shifted on the screens. He followed paths through tax spots and offshore stuff. Each dead end wasn't really one. Just another layer. And under each, he figured, something important waited. Or someone.
He pulled up a new file. Clean, blank. Strategy Draft. Started outlining a plan. New analysts. Better ways to scrape data. Even a low-key idea for more surveillance.
The curtain would pull back. It just had to.
Back on the office floor. The three women ended up at the coffee machine again. No planning. No setup. Just that pull, like gravity, drawing them together at the same time.
We should get straight about what we want, Yuri said. Quiet tone. Eyes sharp.
Seori crossed her arms loose. Thinking it over. It's past just friendly rivalry now.
Yura tilted her head. Smile pulled at her mouth's edge. We can be friends and compete too. Don't you think.
Their laughs came soft. Rippled through the chatter around. Underneath, a bond was building alongside the rivalry. Knowing that no matter what path came next, none of them would act like this wasn't real.
That evening. Minjae got back to his apartment. Air was still. Just a faint city buzz from the window. Lights blinked on far towers. Each one hinting at all those unseen lives moving in the night.
He put his laptop down. Leaned back into the alone time he'd built up so much. And yet. Tonight it felt off. Less like a shield. More like being cut off.
The day's warmth stuck in his head. Coffee placed gentle on his desk. Words in the garden. A look that said I see you. No push for more.
Why did it stick. Why sharper than any deadline or data pile.
Why does this feel so different, he whispered. Words dropped into the room's quiet.
Outside. Night spread out wide. Not caring about his doubt. Inside it, all sorts of possibilities lived. Some soft. Some sharp. Some you couldn't avoid.
And even sitting alone. Minjae felt the shifts. He wasn't untouched anymore. Not overlooked.
The question wasn't about being remembered.
It was how he'd choose to react when that remembering grew into more.