YEAR 2014
The night air was cooler by the shore, the salty breeze tugging gently at Ga-young's cardigan. The beach stretched wide and endless, the tide washing in lazy waves that glittered under the faint moonlight.
She walked barefoot along the water's edge, her shoes dangling from one hand. Behind her, Min-jae followed, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, his gaze steady on her small figure skipping through the foam.
"You'll catch a cold if you keep doing that," he called out. His voice was warm but carried that subtle authority he always had with her.
Ga-young spun around, her hair whipping lightly across her face, and smiled. "Then you'll have to take responsibility."
Min-jae's steps faltered. For a moment, the only sound was the hush of the waves. She said it playfully, innocently—but the words pressed against his chest in a way he didn't expect.
He closed the gap between them, draping his hoodie over her shoulders despite her protest. "Don't say things like that," he muttered, eyes soft yet firm. "You don't know how seriously I'll take it."
Her heart skipped. She hugged the hoodie tighter, the warmth of it carrying his scent. For a long while, they simply walked side by side, their shoulders brushing occasionally. She tilted her head up at him, eyes shining with curiosity.
"Why do you always look at the ocean like that?" Ga-young asked.
He glanced out at the dark horizon, lips curving faintly. "Because it reminds me how small I am… but then—" His gaze flicked back to her, lingering a second too long. "Sometimes, it makes me feel like I want to protect the things that matter, no matter how small they are."
Her breath caught. The waves rushed in, then back out, as if carrying the moment away and leaving only the silence between them.
She whispered, almost shyly, "You're going to leave one day, aren't you? Military service, work… everything."
Min-jae stopped walking. Then, with a quiet sigh, he reached down and gently laced his fingers through hers. His hand was warm, strong, completely enveloping hers.
"Even if I leave," he said softly, "you'll still be the reason I look back."
Ga-young looked down at their joined hands, her cheeks burning, her heart racing faster than the tide. And under the silver moonlight, it felt like a secret promise—fragile, fleeting, but unforgettable.
But then Min-jae paused, suddenly pulling out his camera. "Stay there," he said suddenly.
"What? Why?"
"Because the moonlight looks perfect right now," he replied. His lips curved slightly as he raised the camera. "Hold still."
Ga-young blinked, then laughed nervously. "Oppa, don't! I'll look weird."
Click.
He ignored her protest, snapping another one as she hid her face in her hands, and another when she peeked out between her fingers. "See?" Min-jae smirked, showing her the screen. "You're pretty even when you try to hide it."
Her cheeks burned, but she grabbed the phone. "Then it's my turn."
"No, I don't like pictures." he argued.
"You must!" she insisted, already aiming the camera at him. "Don't move."
She snapped one while he frowned, another when he tried to cover his face, and finally one when he let out a small laugh in defeat. "Got it!" she said proudly.
Min-jae shook his head, reaching over to ruffle her hair. "You're unbelievable."
She hugged the camera close, grinning. "Now we're even."
For a second, he just looked at her—the way her eyes sparkled, the way her laughter carried on the breeze—and something in his chest tightened. The photos didn't matter. This moment did.
So when she lowered the camera, he quietly laced his fingers through hers again, letting the night capture a memory that no camera ever could.
BACK TO PRESENT
"I can't believe you both," Ji-hye said dramatically, arms crossed as though she'd been betrayed by the whole world.
Min-jae and Ga-young sat opposite her in silence, neither daring to move.
"What's your excuse?" she demanded, eyes sharp as she scanned their guilty faces. When no answer came, she threw her head back with a scoff. "So if I had just died, none of you would've known? Some friends you are. I thought I meant something."
"I tried to reach you, but it wasn't going through," Ga-young finally said, her tone careful.
"Which is exactly why you should've come by my house!" Ji-hye shot back, voice rising with every word. "Friends of how many years, and not one of you showed up? Meanwhile, someone I've known barely a month actually cared enough to check in."
Min-jae leaned back in his chair, unbothered. "Why are you being so dramatic? You're alive, aren't you?"
Ji-hye gasped, clutching her chest as if his words were daggers. "Exactly what I mean! Ye-seul sent me dozens of messages, but you two? Silence."
"At least you have someone who cares," Min-jae countered lazily.
Even Ga-young's eyes widened at his bluntness. Before the tension could spiral, she quickly interjected, "We're sorry, Ji-hye. We really didn't think that far."
"Well, I did," Min-jae muttered under his breath, loud enough for Ji-hye to hear, "I just didn't care that much."
Ji-hye shot her fist into the air, ready to swing.
"He's just kidding," Ga-young said quickly, forcing a smile. "Let's not get physical, okay?"
Ji-hye lowered her fist but smirked slyly. "Fine. But only on one condition."
"I'm already not interested," Min-jae said without missing a beat.
"You don't have an option." Ji-hye leaned forward, eyes glinting with mischief. "I promised to take Ha-eun to the park on Friday, but I can't anymore. I need you both to take her."
"Okay…?" Ga-young said curiously.
"I have an important event, and Hyun-woo's out of town," Ji-hye explained, then softened her tone as her gaze landed on Min-jae. "Please, do it for Ha-eun. She's always wanted to see you. Not because of me—because of her."
Min-jae clicked his tongue. "Fine. But only because I want to live up to the 'rich uncle' she thinks I am."
"She knows you?" Ga-young asked, surprised.
Ji-hye nodded. "His her favorite person."
Ga-young frowned, confused but silent.
"Well, I should get back to work," Ji-hye said brightly as she stood. She tossed them a smile. "Don't forget Friday." And just like that, she walked out.
---
Meanwhile—
At the top floor of K&H Hotel, the air was suffocating.
Namjoon sat in the dim light, a knife glinting between his fingers as he toyed with it lazily. In front of him, a man in a suit knelt trembling, tears soaking into his collar.
"I'm sorry, sir," the man stammered, his voice breaking. "I can fix this."
"Min-jae…" Namjoon murmured, dragging the knife across the table in slow, scraping arcs. His voice was calm, too calm. "I hate that name. Do you know why?"
The man hesitated. "B-because of your enemy?"
Namjoon's lips curved into a smile that never reached his eyes. "Exactly. And now, you've handed him the privilege of laughing at me."
"I swear I didn't mean it! I'll change my name if I have to—"
Namjoon stood suddenly, and the man flinched. His presence was suffocating as he loomed closer. "I gave you a chance. And you repay me with mockery?"
"I can fix this!" the man cried. "Please, let me prove myself."
Namjoon's calm cracked, rage spilling out in his voice. "Fix it? How do you fix the fact that the chairman already knows? That the police, those moronsare sniffing around? I had to involve myself personally because of your stupidity!"
"I—I sabotaged him," the man blurted desperately. "Even Min-jae can't move forward now."
Namjoon's knife froze mid-spin. His eyes darkened. "What did you say?"
"I leaked the designs. The cosmetic formulas. The entire project plan—already sold to another company. They'll release it soon," the man said, smiling shakily as if proud of himself.
Namjoon's jaw clenched, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. "You… fucking bastard." His grip tightened on the knife, ready to plunge it into the man's chest.
"Enough."
The voice cut through the room like ice. Seo-ra.
Namjoon's head whipped up, irritation flashing in his gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"If you kill him now, you'll only bury yourself deeper," she said calmly, though her eyes flickered with unease. "Better to carve your name clean first."
Namjoon dragged his hands through his hair, exhaling sharply. "Fuck."
"Leave," Seo-ra ordered the man, her tone sharp.
He didn't hesitate—scrambling out of the room like a rat escaping fire.
Namjoon slammed his fist into the table, the knife rattling across the polished wood. "That bastard!"
"You should calm down," Seo-ra said softly, stepping closer.
"What do you want, Seo-ra?" Namjoon snapped, his voice still raw with fury.
"Let me handle this," she said, unwavering.
"Leave my office."
Her lips trembled, but instead of retreating, she slid her hand up his chest, her voice breaking into something desperate. "Namjoon… why are you doing this to me? There's no love left in your eyes. Not even a trace."
Namjoon caught her wrist, firm but not gentle. His eyes were colder than the knife he'd held moments ago. "This is different," he said flatly, before letting her go and walking out.
The door clicked shut.
Seo-ra stood frozen for a heartbeat before her knees buckled. She collapsed onto the floor, her palms slapping against the cold tiles. A strangled scream tore from her throat as she pounded the ground, her voice echoing through the empty office.
"Why are you doing this to me?!" she shrieked, the sound raw, broken, unhinged. Her cries lingered in the shadows long after he was gone.