The very first line left him speechless. When Haram set down the paper and demanded an explanation, Tae-yi offered a faint smile and replied in a calm voice.
“You saved my life. Don’t you remember our first meeting? Of course I should compensate you.”
“Y-You weren’t even hurt that badly… And a billion won? Cut it out already.”
He’d spent the entire afternoon punching numbers into a calculator, trying to itemize everything down to the last won, yet Tae-yi only joked around and brushed off his sincerity.
“I set the price on my own life.”
Tae-yi’s tone was firm, and Haram closed his mouth. If that was how he put it, there was nothing else Haram could say.
“I don’t have a hundred billion in cash right now, so you’ll have to wait until I sell off some real estate.”
Realizing that Tae-yi might actually be serious, Haram panicked and shouted,
“You don’t need to pay me that kind of money…!”
Hearing the answer he’d been waiting for, Tae-yi smiled in satisfaction and began tearing the paper Haram had written to pieces.
“Same goes for me.”
He tossed the shredded paper carelessly onto the corner of the table, then stood up.
“I told you to use me. So go ahead—use me, bleed me dry. Stop sitting here scribbling up lists like this.”
As Tae-yi’s words dragged on, Haram kept his head down as if he hadn’t heard a thing. Use him? Use him for what? Did Tae-yi actually believe Haram was capable of doing that?
“…How long do I have to stay here?”
Haram’s weary voice made Tae-yi sigh inwardly. He’d already assumed being around him was uncomfortable. Still, he’d hoped that if he showed sincerity and kept asking for forgiveness, maybe one day they’d laugh together again.
He knew it was selfish, but he’d still hoped. He’d always been that kind of bastard from the start.
But now, he had to accept it. The one who turned Da Haram’s bright smile into this constant look of sadness—was none other than himself. Getting close, asking for forgiveness—none of that was his to decide anymore. It had to be Haram. And he didn’t want to make things more difficult for him than they already were.
Putting on a faint smile, Tae-yi replied in a composed voice.
“I’ll wrap things up as soon as I can.”
Leaving that short promise behind, he walked away. Haram looked up belatedly and stared at his back as he walked off… then slowly lowered his head again.
If someone asked him right now whether he wanted to go home, he wasn’t sure he could answer honestly. He didn’t even know how he truly felt anymore. Maybe that’s why it was all so hard to define. What he needed right now wasn’t action—it was to sort out how he felt about Tae-yi.
Only if he could let go completely would he be able to leave without regret. Even wanting to pay him back without owing anything… that too might’ve just been a way to deal with his lingering attachment. Glancing absentmindedly toward the second floor, where Tae-yi was, Haram let out a soft sigh.
***
Secretary Kim quietly gathered up the stack of documents from the table and left the room, glancing over at Tae-jin sprawled drunkenly on the sofa. As the door closed with a click, Tae-jin cracked open his eyes and clutched his pounding head as if it were about to split open.
“The majority of the executives want to abandon the resort project and move into the overseas market.”
“In the international business Director Kang Tae-yi is spearheading, Changi Construction has a high likelihood of securing the contracts without issue.”
There was no need to go over what had been reported all day. Every single person who came to his office had said the same thing.
Kang Tae-yi. It was him again. If the resort project were to be canceled, all the losses would fall squarely on his shoulders as the one in charge. And the very man pushing for that cancellation was getting ready to slither out, redirecting everyone’s attention overseas.
“Haaah…”
Clang—
With a loud crash, Tae-jin hurled the half-empty whiskey bottle across the room.
Where had it all gone wrong? When he failed to finish off Kang Tae-yi for good? No—it was even earlier than that.
“Father…”
A father who’d spent his whole life weighing him and Kang Tae-yi against each other. A father who collapsed without ever naming an official successor. If you thought about it, that man was the root of all this.
Staggering to his feet, Tae-jin muttered unintelligible words under his breath and wandered off.
***
It would’ve been better if his body had felt as tired as yesterday. But today, it didn’t. With wide-awake eyes, Haram lay staring blankly at the ceiling. His small ear, poking out from silver hair, twitched slightly.
Did Tae-yi go to sleep without eating dinner?
Haram had snacked so much with Da In-ho during the day—eating nuts until his stomach was about to burst—that he had no appetite. But Tae-yi was different. He’d even said they should have dinner together. Which meant he probably skipped the meal altogether.
Tossing around in the cozy blankets, Haram finally sat up. The phone screen told him it was already past 4 a.m. The sun would rise in just two hours. Since there was no chance he’d fall asleep now, he got up and quietly slipped out of the room, padding down the hallway in silence toward the kitchen.
“Onions… mushrooms…”
He murmured ingredients to himself while rummaging through the fridge, taking them out one by one. Closing the door after grabbing some bulgogi beef, he started humming under his breath, excited to cook again after so long.
He pulled out a cutting board and knife, slicing the onions and mushrooms for the bulgogi, and set aside a handful to finely dice for rolled omelets.
“Bulgogi might be a bit much for breakfast…”
He’d already whipped up the marinade and was massaging it into the beef when he paused in sudden doubt. But he quickly resumed. Maybe it’s not heavy by Tae-yi’s standards. It didn’t have to make sense by his own.
As he hummed and continued cooking, Haram suddenly flinched.
Wait… am I humming while cooking right now?
For Tae-yi? He’d just sworn—less than half a day ago—not to hold on to feelings for that man. And yet here he was, grilling bulgogi no one even asked him to make. For a man who had lied and betrayed him. I must be a born sucker. A sky squirrel worthy of historical shame.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Haram set down the spatula. He stared at the sizzling bulgogi and the perfectly rolled omelet, hesitating… before picking the spatula back up.
No way I’m throwing this out. And this was all part of using Tae-yi. He’d eat the food and starve later—Haram would make sure of it.
Justifying it to himself, he flipped the omelet with conviction.
***
Tae-yi, about to head out with his jacket, paused when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Haram had been on the first floor all night—only now was he going back upstairs? Maybe he’d been watching TV. Either way, Tae-yi hadn’t slept either.
Every time he saw Da Haram, he wanted to cling to him like a child. But he knew that would only be selfish, so he decided to avoid him instead—anything to keep from making Haram uncomfortable. If he pushed too far, Haram would probably return to the countryside without hesitation. Whether on foot or in flight. And if that happened… Tae-yi knew he’d wither away.
Once Haram entered his room, Tae-yi quietly stepped out. As he made his way downstairs, the sweet scent of marinade hit him. Haram must’ve cooked something. Tae-yi smiled faintly, picturing him wagging his tail while bustling around the kitchen. Then, as he always did, he headed not to the front door but to the garden.
It had become second nature by now. Walking into the crisp dawn air, he winced a little at the cold and made his way straight to the pot of cherry tomatoes. The seasons must’ve changed again.
He crouched to check the tomatoes, now sitting in a spot with ample sun, and carefully watered them.
As he turned around, he suddenly locked eyes with Haram, who had been standing there. Tae-yi blinked in surprise. How long has he been standing there?
Haram fidgeted awkwardly, fingers twitching, and Tae-yi slowly walked over with the same familiar smile he always wore.
“Did you sleep well? You’re up early.”
“……Yeah.”
Haram replied like a broken machine, his head turning stiffly as he avoided eye contact. Tae-yi, too, said nothing more—he just watched him silently. Only the early birdsong filled the space between them.
Unable to stand the silence, Haram was about to speak when Tae-yi beat him to it.
“I’ll probably be home late today. If you get bored, I can call Da In-ho for you.”
“Huh? Oh… okay…”
Finishing his sentence, Tae-yi turned and left. He moved quickly, like he had urgent business. Haram swallowed the words hovering on his tongue.
“You could’ve had breakfast before you left…”
He muttered quietly to himself only after hearing the front door close in the distance. He’s avoiding me. Even someone as dense as him could feel it. Before, Tae-yi wouldn’t leave his hands or cheeks alone no matter how many times Haram asked him not to touch. Now, he barely said a word before disappearing.
Was it because of that paper I gave him yesterday? Maybe in trying to ease his own conscience, he’d made Tae-yi feel like crap instead. Talking about money like that—something so sensitive—he probably hadn’t thought it through at all.
