The loose white T-shirt had a goofy-looking brown fox printed on it. He wore it with shorts, white socks, and sneakers, while the knit top that came with the outfit was lazily slung over his shoulders. It was evening, but the weather was still warm enough for that.
Ha-jin had obediently stepped out of his room to head down to the lobby as instructed, but someone was already waiting for him in the hallway.
“Wow, it really suits you, Manager. Totally worth the effort of finding it.”
The woman with the round, friendly face was one of Cheon Tae-seong’s personal secretaries. What was her name again… Ha-jin hesitated for a moment but soon recalled it.
“Thank you. Did you pick all this out yourself, Da-young? I’ll wear it well.”
“Oh please, I had to buy clothes for the guy who took the hit for our CEO. Manager Kim was going to grab some floral elastic pants from the market, but I barely stopped him in time.”
Ha-ha. He let out an awkward laugh, and Kim Da-young stepped up beside him.
“You’re okay, right? Everyone was really shaken up earlier.”
“Yeah, well… I’m fine.”
“How’d you even think to bring an umbrella?”
Ha-jin flinched at the question, but thankfully, she didn’t seem to expect an answer. She entered the elevator with him and pressed the top floor. Then, catching his blinking, spaced-out look, she flashed a smile.
“The CEO said his call’s running long, so he’d like to eat in the room.”
The elevator quickly reached the top. Kim Da-young handed over the key to Ha-jin and stepped back. In his previous life, they’d all gone out for a company dinner together… He blanked for a moment before steadying himself. This, too, was part of the change he had to accept.
There was no need to ask about which room. The top floor only had two, and a line of bodyguards in black lined the hallway densely enough to make the direction obvious.
The suite inside was quiet. The soft, warm lighting filled the space, and beyond the wide living room, the wall of windows displayed a full view of the West Sea. Ha-jin stepped inside cautiously.
The low voice murmuring from the inner room belonged to Cheon Tae-seong. So the call really was taking a while. Seemed like it still wasn’t wrapping up. Ha-jin quietly sat on the living room sofa and waited.
“…If it drags out too long, everyone will… at this rate… two years… no negotiation… construction stalls… unresolved…”
The words came in and out, but the gist was still clear. Ha-jin didn’t want to eavesdrop, so he focused his eyes and tried to think of something else. Just then, the door flung open, and Cheon Tae-seong stepped out.
“Before the losses get any worse. Yes. I’ll handle Chairman Cheon myself.”
“……”
“Understood. Please wrap it up that way.”
Ha-jin instinctively shot to his feet, and their eyes met. Tae-seong slowly lowered the phone from his cheek and scanned Ha-jin from head to toe, eyes slightly widened.
Ha-jin stiffened a little. That blatant gaze ran up and down his body, immediately bringing back memories of last night.
At least it’s not clothes I bought this time, so he can’t complain about my taste, right?
Meeting his stare head-on with a bold expression, Ha-jin refused to back down. But then, without a word, Tae-seong suddenly dropped his gaze and turned sharply on his heel.
What the hell?
Flustered, Ha-jin stood there blinking. Maybe today had hit him harder than expected. Tae-seong’s neck was still flushed red from heat. Trying to assess his condition, Ha-jin sharpened his senses to feel for pheromones—but there was nothing. It was quiet.
Tae-seong ran a rough hand through his hair like he had a headache, then strode into the dining room. The way he pulled out a chair and sat made it clear—he was saying they should eat.
When Ha-jin stood there, unsure, Tae-seong tapped the table impatiently.
“Come here before it gets cold.”
The table was set like something straight out of a high-end Korean restaurant—a full 12-dish spread. From Tae-seong’s reaction when Ha-jin entered to the sight of this meal, it was one surprise after another.
He’d expected some decent delivery food at most. This only proved how lacking his imagination was.
Awkwardly settling into his seat, Ha-jin watched as Tae-seong poured water into his glass from the teapot.
“You’re not allergic to meat, right?”
“Uh… no.”
Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t a single seafood dish on the table. He’d mentioned his allergy last week when declining dinner. Tae-seong must’ve remembered.
Wait—seriously?
Ha-jin thought back to the first night of the business trip in his previous life. The whole team had rented out a restaurant, loaded with shellfish and sashimi, and eaten a huge feast.
“Are you eating in the room because of me?”
He asked, a bit touched.
“Not really.”
Tae-seong casually picked at a grilled mushroom with his chopsticks.
“I just used it as an excuse to eat in peace.”
“…Ah. Right.”
It wasn’t wrong. Ha-jin knew full well that Tae-seong didn’t enjoy crowds or mingling. He felt embarrassed for even asking.
His ears flushed red as he pressed his lips together and picked up his chopsticks.
“Thank you for the meal.”
“There’s not much, but eat up.”
Not much? The plates were stacked to the edge of the table, each dish generously filled.
Tae-seong, oddly enough, sat slouched in a rough manner—elbows on the table, poking at the food with barely any effort, casting a sharp look at Ha-jin.
“Not hungry?”
“…I am hungry.”
The last thing he’d eaten was a quick bowl of udon with the driver at a rest stop, so of course he was starving.
“Then why’re you nibbling like that?”
No wonder you’re still skinny. The muttered words were a mix of mockery and amusement. Ha-jin didn’t even think it was worth replying to—he just focused on eating.
He piled some rice with grilled short rib patties and took a huge bite, then lifted the bowl of soybean paste soup and drank straight from it. He twirled the japchae with his chopsticks and stuffed his cheeks to bursting, then caught eyes with Tae-seong, who was leaning back in his chair, watching him.
“You eat well.”
“…”
“Like a hamster.”
Seriously, what the hell is with him? Ha-jin frowned, but Tae-seong kept staring at him unabashedly.
“You’re gonna get indigestion.”
Then, unexpectedly, he cracked open a can of cola and handed it over. His behavior was all over the place—Ha-jin couldn’t figure him out at all.
Two chubby red cans now sat in front of them. Catching his breath from eating so quickly, Ha-jin took a sip and looked at Tae-seong.
“About that umbrella.”
Hack! The question came out of nowhere—he nearly snorted soda through his nose.
“Are you always like that? Jumping in without thinking?”
He thought he’d be grilled about why he even had an umbrella ready—but what came next caught him completely off guard.
“There were plenty of bodyguards. Even bigger guys from the site. What if they threw something worse than trash—a blade, or a rock? Those guys are professionals. It’s their job to handle it…”
He didn’t outright say Ha-jin had overstepped, but it felt that way. Ha-jin had a hard time hiding the pout forming on his lips. Not true, he wanted to say. They couldn’t stop them last time, either. But he couldn’t just say that. It stung.
“You could’ve just said thank you. That would’ve been enough.”
He’d expected to be asked how he knew to open the umbrella—not scolded for jumping into something that wasn’t his place. It was so absurd the words slipped out before he could stop them.
Tae-seong looked like he was done eating. His utensils were already down, and the can in front of him had been crushed. Whether he was speechless or annoyed, his expression was hard to read.
“You wanted me to say thank you?”
That’s not what I meant.
“…Thank you for the clothes, shoes, and phone. But the phone still works fine, so I was hoping to give it to my little brother, if that’s okay.”
“You want me to buy another one?”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant.”
Suddenly, Tae-seong raised a hand and rubbed at his sternum.
“I think you gave me indigestion, Ha-jin.”
“Because of me?”
Now he’s blaming him? Ha-jin stared wide-eyed in disbelief, and Tae-seong let out a soft snort.
“It’s true.”
Maybe it was because of the umbrella earlier. His chest had been aching ever since. Maybe his heart had taken a shock from that bold act, skipping irregularly ever since, making it hard to breathe and think straight. That’s why the strategy meeting took twice as long.
“Hey.”
His voice had that rough edge again, drawing Ha-jin’s gaze. Those glassy brown eyes gleamed under the light. Tae-seong laced his fingers and propped his chin on them.
“Lee Ha-jin, answer me honestly.”
“W-What?”
Nervous, Ha-jin leaned back as Tae-seong inched forward. His back hit the chair with a soft thud.
That steady gaze and the glimpse of sharp canines through slightly parted lips felt intimidating.
“You like me, don’t you?”
Ha-jin’s jaw dropped.
Who was it that said the details always change?
No, this change was way too extreme.
