Sungmin Pov
Two days have already passed.
Two days out of the one week I had begged for, and I had nothing. Well, almost nothing. I had learned where Kwon Joohwan studied, where he'd worked, how long he'd stayed at each kitchen, and even which hotel had once considered promoting him to head chef.
And why he had quit.
I considered a manager of the hotel where he had worked in Jongno on my day two.
The vast, multi-story glass walls framed a dazzling view of Jongno's historic skyline, but inside, it was blindingly rich. The floors were polished to a mirror shine, reflecting gold pillars and crystal chandeliers that fractured the afternoon sun.
Minjae and I sat on deep velvet couches that felt way too expensive to actually sit on, surrounded by the quiet hum of indoor water features and the sharp, painful clicks of luxury heels. The whole place didn't just scream wealth; it felt designed to make people like us feel completely out of place.
I adjusted the collar of my shirt for what was probably the fifth time. Places like this kind of make me a bit self-conscious.
"Relax, hyung," Minjae whispered beside me.
"I am."
He glanced at my tightly clasped hands and then at me, shaking his head.
"Hello, I am Manager Jeong. I hope I didn't make you wait too long," the man said, approaching us in a charcoal suit with a huge grin that was too polite for a manager managing such a luxury hotel to be such a polite, nice man.
"We just came too; it's totally fine," I said, standing up and giving a polite smile back with a bow, and Minjae bowed too. "I am Assistant Manager Han Sungmin, and this is my team leader, Park Minjae, from Tun-Tuna Foods. Our manager contacted you yesterday."
Manager Jeong nodded immediately. "Yes, yes. I remember the call; please make yourself comfortable," he gestured toward the seating area. We settled back into our seats. Manager Jeong took the chair opposite us, crossing one leg over the other.
"So," he began, "you said you are looking into one of our former employees."
I nodded. "Kwon Joohwan." As soon as his name left my mouth, something changed. It was so small that I might have missed it if I'd been looking anywhere else. Manager Jeong's smile faltered for half a second.
Then it returned. His gaze flickered between Minjae and me.
"Ah," just one syllable. But there was something about it I couldn't read. I leaned forward slightly. "You remember him?"
"Of course," he answered quickly. "Kwon Joohwan was an excellent chef."
Minjae pulled out his notebook as if he were here for an interview. I wanted to roll my eyes if it weren't for the fact that the manager is here. I mean, that's a stupid move; we are not here for a thesis. When the manager glanced down, I snatched the notebook from Minjae's hands and shot him a warning look. We're not here for a research presentation.
Minjae frowned at me as if I had grabbed his remote control car he wanted to play with at the wrong time but reluctantly let me keep it.
Manager Jeong continued, "He was always good with cooking. In fact, I've rarely seen someone his age possess that level of understanding." His smile softened slightly as he spoke.
"But…"
I caught the pause.
"But?"
Manager Jeong leaned back. "I don't think I ever saw him smile."
As expected, that was exactly what I'd seen myself too.
"He wasn't rude," Manager Jeong continued. "Quite the opposite. He was respectful, punctual, and hardworking. He never caused trouble. But he was always distant and overworked, as if he were keeping himself busy from something," he said, glancing at us.
We tried not to interrupt him, so he continued, "First, we thought maybe he was trying to prove himself, but one day he didn't come to work. Then days passed, and we got to know that he had collapsed due to exhaustion and his father not wanting to send him back again, so he quit."
So that's why he quit. His father made him quit; it wasn't his choice then. I thought, nodding my head.
"Thank you for the information, Manager Jeong," I said, standing up.
Jeong looked confused, but he didn't ask any further questions. "You are welcome. If there is anything I could help you with, you can contact me," he said with the same polite grin and walked back to work.
I walked out of the hotel, Minjae trailing behind as I strode out.
"Hyung, Hyung—" he called out, stepping next to me. "That was very quick, you know?" he said with a frown and took his notebook from my hand.
"Well, we got what we got, didn't we?" I said, not looking at Minjae.
"What did we even get? We just got to know that he collapsed from exhaustion, and then his father made him quit; that's all, but what happened after that, we don't know."
I sighed and stopped in my tracks and turned to face him, making him halt in mid-step. "Isn't his brother your best friend?" I said flatly, and he started at me as if wondering what point I was making now. "You must have already known his past—Joohwan's past, and here it was clear he didn't quit his job on his own; he just quit because his father made him do so. I am not painting his father in a bad light here, but I guess you would know more about him than I do, so we don't have to hear the other story."
Minjae stared at me, his eyes lowered in thought. "I get it, Joohwan hyung; the relationship with his father is kind of bad, but we have to tell Junwoo something, right?"
I nodded in thought. "Just tell him he collapsed from exhaustion and quit because of that." I gave him the reason, which I felt was quite convincing.
Minaje nodded with a shrug. "Fine if you say so," adding, "I sometimes don't understand who the leader here is." He chuckled.
I shot a look that was half amused and half exasperated. "You're the team leader, Minaje. I am just the assistant manager who does all the work."
"That's not what I meant, hyung." He fell into step beside me, his tone softening. "I mean, you're the one making the calls. You're chasing the lead. You're the one who won't let this go." He paused, glancing at me. "That's not assistant manager behavior. That's more like someone who cares."
End of day two
I stood behind the vegetable cart, pretending to be extremely interested in a pile of cabbages while keeping one eye on Joohwan, which now, when I thought about it, probably made it painfully obvious that I was following him.
The morning spring sun spilled between the buildings, warming the narrow lanes of the market. The awnings stretched over the stalls green, red, yellow, and something like ocean blue, their edges fluttering when even the breeze slipped through. The market was already alive despite the early hour.
Vendors called out to passing customers, their voices overlapping with the sound of metal trays and squeaks of old cart wheels.
The smell was mixed, fresh vegetables still carrying the scent of damp soil. Dried seafood was stocked in open boxes, where some covered their noses for the smell, and others passed through without problem like me.
Sesame oil, gochujang, and fish cakes simmering in a large metal pot somewhere nearby—something was frying. People moved around me carrying reusable shopping bags and plastic baskets, stopping at stalls to inspect vegetables, compare prices, or exchange familiar greetings with vendors.
And I probably looked like the only person in the whole market who had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
Especially because I had been standing behind the same cart for the past three minutes. The elderly woman selling vegetables finally looked at me and then at cabbages, then back at me.
"Are you buying that?" she asked, grabbing my attention.
I blinked.
"Ah?"
She pointed at the cabbage directly in front of me. I looked down. "Oh, right, the cabbage. Yes," I replied.
"How many?" she asked, reaching them. I hesitated, thinking, "Do I really have to buy it?" but it looked like I had no option.
"One?" I said questioningly.
She started at me blankly, and that brought an awkward smile out of me. "Actually…I'll take two; I have one at my home," I said, taking one cabbage and passing it to her.
She shook her head, muttering something under her breath as she snatched the cabbage from my hand. I glanced past her shoulder. Joohwan was still there. I sighed in relief.
He was walking slowly between the stalls with a reusable black shopping bag hanging from one hand. Unlike me, he surprisingly looked completely at home here. He stopped at a seafood stall first. The vendor behind the counter immediately recognized him.
"Oh! Hwan-ah!" she said brightly.
He gave a small bow.
"Oh my, you are early today," she said, showing off her wide, pleasing grin.
"I need a few things," he said, giving her the list. The vendor smiled and started picking through the seafood displayed in front of him, looking at the list carefully.
I watched him carefully. The Joohwan I knew was still there and wasn't talking much, which he rarely did, but he listened. He checked the freshness of everything before putting it into his bag. He asked about the catch that morning, inspected a few ingredients himself, and even reminded the vendor to keep the package chilled.
That was something different about him here. Not happier but lighter; he didn't look in thought, and his eyes weren't guarded. He knew these people, and they knew him, and somehow, watching him interact with them made me realize that he hadn't completely set himself away from the world.
Maybe he just kept the idea of living normal out of his life, letting people in.
I saw him moving from there; I quickly grabbed the cabbage from the vegetable vendor and hurried after him, not wanting to lose sight of him.
"Yah! Handsome!"
I stopped; the elderly vendor was glaring at me. 'What? She called me 'handsome' and is now glaring at me,' I thought. I looked down at the cabbage still clutched against my chest like a baby.
"You haven't paid," she said. I sighed, closing my eyes. Right, of course. How could I forget that?
"Ah…right." I hurried back, paid her, and gave an awkward bow before turning around again. Joohwan was already several steps ahead.
"Kown Joohwan-ssi, wait!" The words escaped before I could stop them.
His body froze, and he turned his head; our eyes met across the narrow lane. For a second, I considered pretending I hadn't called him. Then I remembered I was already standing there holding my cabbage like an idiot.
I hurried toward him, trying to look like I somehow ended up walking in the same direction by coincidence.
"You walk too fast," I said, falling into step beside him.
He looked at me, then at the cabbage in my arms.
Joohwan Pov
I was in the market to buy the items and essentials since I could get them at a better cost; that's what my father taught me: "Buy what you can from the market. Don't waste money just because you own a restaurant."
My aunt used to say the same thing.
Some of the vendors almost knew my name too well since I had been coming here since I was a child, usually holding my mother's hand while she walked between stalls. Back then, the market seemed bigger than it is now. The narrow lanes felt endless, and every stall seemed to have something I wanted to look at.
After she passed away, I stopped coming often. Then, when I reached middle school, I started running errands for the restaurant. Vegetables, greens, seafood, meat, seasonings, whatever my uncle needed—I was the one sent to get it. Eventually, it became routine, and now, years later, I was still strolling the same market with the same black shopping bag in my head.
"Oh! Hwan-ah!"
I stopped in front of the seafood stall when the familiar voice called my name. I gave Song Ajumma a small bow, for which she grinned widely just like every time.
"You're really today." She asked loudly; that was enough to hear from a mile away, and that white grin showing her teeth—I wonder, don't her cheeks hurt smiling like that?
"I needed a few things," I replied shortly, handing her the list.
She glanced over it before immediately reaching for seafood. "Today's catch came in, really, you know. "The squid is good; you must try it too," she said, lifting one for me to inspect.
I nodded after checking its eyes and skin. "Give me those," I agreed.
She picked out the freshest ones, packed them carefully, and kept them aside, asking, "Anything else?"
I looked around the stall; the clams looked good. They were most requested since Uncle made them often at customer request. "Those clams," I said, pointing at the clams section.
"The smaller ones?"
"Yes."
She nodded and began preparing them without needing me to explain further. I took the packed covers and paid for them, then moved to vegetable stalls to check the ingredients one by one.
The market was noisy, with people calling out prices and what they sell. Children complaining about carrying bags. Vendors arguing over deliveries with the young delivery men. The squeaking wheels of carts moving through narrow spaces, some with ice packs, some with green leaves.
Normally, I barely noticed any of it. Today, however, something felt different. Maybe because I could feel someone following me. I didn't have to turn around since I had noticed him almost ten minutes ago.
Han Sungmin.
He was terrible at following people. At first I thought he might have been there by coincidence. Then he had been standing in the same vegetable cart for several minutes, without buying anything.
And I didn't want to acknowledge him. Then I heard an elderly vendor shout.
"Handsome! You haven't paid!"
I glanced back. Fortunately, he didn't see me trying to sneak around. He stood there holding a cabbage against his chest. He looked ridiculous, and I almost smiled.
I could not understand why he just couldn't take that single no and leave me alone and then do this. Did he really think I couldn't know what he was doing or why Taekwang took my documents? I had pretended, but he kept appearing everywhere.
I sighed and turned to the other stall before he would follow me again, but then—
"Kwon Joohwan-ssi, wait!"
I stopped. There was no point pretending I hadn't heard him. I didn't turn around immediately. I could feel him behind me, probably clutching that ridiculous cabbage. I took a deep breath and turned. He was there a few steps away, slightly out of breath. The cabbage was pressed against his chest like a shield.
My gaze flickered between his cabbage and him. Then turned around, ignored him, and walked.
"You walk fast," he said, falling into step beside me.
"You were following me."
There was that silence again. I watched him straighten out of his spine; his fingers tightened around that cabbage, blinking more than he should, which told me he was scrambling for an excuse.
He was terrible at making excuses too.
"Following you?" He let out a laugh that sounded like a dying car engine. "I was just…I mean, I was here for…vegetables."
I looked at his cabbage.
"Vegetables," I repeated, eyeing the cabbage.
"Huh?" He looked at the cabbage and then at me, opening his mouth like a fish. "Um…Just started buying them, you know, need organic and fresh—"
"You have been standing at that cart for ten minutes. The vendor even called you out when you hurried to not miss me."
His face went blank, then his eyes widened slightly, already knowing he was caught. His mouth opened and closed. Opened again. I watched the internal battle on his face to search for a new lie.
"I really…came to buy vegetables, but I felt…I saw someone familiar, and then it's you, and I am glad I actually saw you—"
"Glad?"
He nodded quickly. "Yes. Glad. Because you know how boring it is to go buy something alone in this huge market."
I stared at him; he stared back with that desperate, hopeful look plastered across his face like he actually believed I would buy that.
I shook my head and turned to walk again, but slower this time. I told myself it was because the market was crowded. After all, I had more stalls to visit, and I wasn't in a hurry. Not because I wanted him to follow.
He did anyway by walking my side. The next stall was for dried goods: anchovies, kelp, and mushrooms. The vendor, an old man with weathered hands and kind eyes, nodded at me as I approached.
"Joohwan-ah. Same as usual?"
"Yes, harabeoji."
He began measuring out portions while I checked the quality of mushrooms. Sungmin hovered behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence but not so close that he was crowding me. He was being careful.
"You come here often?" he asked quietly.
I didn't look at him. "Since I was a child."
"Oh," a pause. "That's…nice."
I didn't respond. The vendor handed me the package, and I paid, tucking it into my bag. When I turned, Sungmin was looking at the bag in the way everything was organized and labeled, efficiently.
"You are very…" He trailed off, searching for words.
"Practical?"
"I was going to say organized."
I started walking again; he followed me like a lost puppy that I fed a snack behind me.
"You don't have to keep following me," I said.
"I know."
"So why are you?"
He was quiet for a moment; when he spoke, his voice was softer than before.
"Because I want to understand."
Understand what?"
"You"
I stopped abruptly and turned around so fast that he nearly crashed into my chest. He stumbled back, the cabbage almost slipping from his grip. His eye went wide, startled by the sudden action. I didn't move back.
I just looked at him, really looked at his face. At the way he breathed, at the way his fingers scrambled to hold onto that vegetable that was almost getting worn, and at the way he refused to look away even though he was clearly nervous.
"There is nothing to understand," I said, utterly flat.
"I don't believe that," he said without any stutter in his words.
And that somehow annoyed me more than him following me or smiling at me.
"That's your problem," I said, trying not to sound annoyed.
"It is," he agreed. "But I am okay with that."
I stared at him for a second, at how stubborn he was. Never in my life have I seen someone like him. Or maybe I did.
"You're wasting your time, Han Sungmin," I said, his name rolling on my tongue, feeling strangely new. I took a step closer, and he stepped a little back. "You think I wouldn't know why you are following me or why my brother, out of nowhere, took my study and other documents just for some government scheme?"
His face went pale. Not the kind of pale that comes from embarrassment or being caught in a lie. This looked quite different, and I didn't want to read it now.
"If this is about me joining your company, quit it. I have already given my answer. Just don't waste your time," I said very clearly. I stepped back and turned around, walking away, not waiting for his side. Because I don't think I have to listen to it.
Because I don't want that hope to be in my life again.
A hope that was taken away again once I collapsed again.