Just Twilight

She had worried, albeit slightly, that he might disappear while she dozed off at dawn, but seeing his unbothered demeanor now left her feeling annoyed. Glaring at Beomjin with sharp eyes, she watched as he yawned lazily, brushed past her with an indifferent expression, and headed toward the bathroom. Junyoung let out a small, incredulous laugh.

"Excuse me, Mr. Kim. I was waiting to go in first, you know."

"It'll take five minutes."

Without even glancing back, Beomjin disappeared into the bathroom. Junyoung, fuming, glared at the closed door. Her grandmother patted her back sympathetically.

"Now, now, miss. Why don’t you eat first? It’s better to let Mr. Kim go in first; that way, the hot water comes out right away."

"Grandma."

Junyoung lowered her voice, stopping her grandmother as she headed toward the kitchen.

"What kind of person is he?"

"Why are you asking me? Weren’t you two acquainted?"

"We’re not. At least, not anymore."

Her curt reply made her grandmother smile knowingly.

"You two had a fight, didn’t you?"

"We’re not close enough to fight. I’m serious—what kind of person is he?"

Her grandmother tilted her head thoughtfully, glancing toward the bathroom.

"He’s not from around here. He came here a little over a month ago, I think. He works at the construction site nearby and was looking for a cheap room to stay in. He heads out to work every morning without a fuss, eats his meals on time, and doesn’t talk much, but he’s diligent. Doesn’t seem to have a girlfriend either."

Junyoung forced an awkward smile at her grandmother’s teasing remark. Folding her arms, she asked quietly, "Does he hang out with the other workers often?"

"Not that I’ve seen. He doesn’t bring anyone home. Most of the workers are drifters—they stay in town while working at the site and leave afterward. Mr. Kim joined later, so I guess he had to find a place of his own."

"Joined later?"

Junyoung raised an eyebrow, her gaze shifting to the tightly shut bathroom door.

"Do you know his name, by any chance?"

"His name?"

"Everyone just calls him Mr. Kim. He hasn’t told me his first name."

"Let me think… It was a common name, but I’ve gotten so used to calling him Mr. Kim that I’ve forgotten. Wait—you don’t know his name?"

"I thought I did, but maybe I don’t."

Her voice quieted, and her grandmother chuckled softly, her eyes crinkling with age. After nodding in thought for a moment, her grandmother suddenly clapped her hands.

"Oh, goodness, I nearly forgot! The rice crust is about to boil over. The table’s already set, so sit on the porch."

"I’ll do it."

The savory smell wafted into the yard. Limping slightly, Junyoung made her way to the porch and sat down. She bent her knee with some difficulty, inspecting the dark bruise that had spread around the bandage she’d applied yesterday.

I thought it was just a minor fall, but I must have been more shaken than I realized. Maybe I should’ve made the motorcycle guy pay for the bandages.

Her mind drifted to the image of Beomjin running toward her, calling her name. If it hadn’t been for the urgency of the situation, he probably would’ve kept ignoring her.

…He looked so panicked when he ran over.

For a brief moment, Junyoung believed in the expression she had seen on his face. It wasn’t the kind of look someone could fake—not in a moment like that.

She was about to pull the low table closer from where it leaned against the wall when a hand appeared out of nowhere and grabbed it effortlessly. She turned to see Beomjin, his damp hair swept back carelessly, setting the table on the porch.

The scent of soap mingled with the crisp air, and a few droplets of water fell onto her knee, cold against her skin. As she watched him intently, she spoke.

"Hey, Mr. Kim."

Beomjin turned to her with an expression that suggested she was about to say something bothersome. Ignoring his look, Junyoung shrugged and spoke quickly.

"Did you come here to do something dangerous?"

His sharp gaze twitched, ever so slightly. It was brief, but she caught it. Narrowing his eyes, he clicked his tongue.

"I can’t say no, given that people have died on site before."@@novelbin@@

"But no one’s died yet."

Her calm retort drew a short sigh from him. Straightening his posture, he asked, "When does the original supervisor come back?"

"If it turns out I’m incompetent, then they’ll come."

"So…"

Junyoung lifted her chin defiantly as his calm eyes seemed to scan her. The corners of his lips curved into a slow smirk.

"…If there’s another accident, perhaps?"

Her confident expression faltered for a moment. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Kwon Beomjin, who the hell are you—!"

"Careful, it’s hot."

Her grandmother’s voice interrupted from behind. Junyoung closed her mouth as a pot of boiling rice crust, kimchi, and empty bowls were placed on the table.

"Let it cool before eating. Mr. Kim loves our homemade kimchi, you know."

Junyoung accepted the spoon her grandmother handed her and glared at Beomjin. He, however, remained unfazed, calmly stirring the rice crust. The rising steam blurred his face, making it harder to read his expression.

***

Min-sook quickened her steps, her lips pursed in irritation. She had been forced to wake up early because of a text at the crack of dawn asking for the office door's passcode. Normally, she was the type to be punctual to the second, but today, she was arriving a full 30 minutes ahead of schedule.

When she opened the office door, the lights were already on, and there was Junyoung, poring over documents. Letting out a quiet sigh, Min-sook cleared her throat to announce her presence.

“You’re here early…”

“Where’s the safety management organization chart? I couldn’t find it.”

The table by the sofa was already stacked high with folders and binders. Shaking her head, Min-sook walked over to her desk and opened a cabinet. As she handed Junyoung the document, Junyoung barely gave her a chance to breathe before firing off another question.

“Why isn’t the office manager here yet?”

“Oh, he probably got home late last night after entertaining clients.”

On such days, he rarely showed up at the office in the morning, but before she could add that, Junyoung nodded curtly.

“Call him and set up a meeting with me this morning. Is the inspection supervisor stationed on-site? It’d be good if they could attend, too.”

Min-sook stood there, momentarily dumbfounded by the rapid-fire instructions. Junyoung, noticing the lack of response, glanced up from the document she was flipping through.

“It’s urgent, so please make it happen.”

“Okay.”

Shifting her gaze nervously, Min-sook picked up the phone. Meanwhile, Junyoung typed something into her laptop before pulling out her cellphone.

“This is Yoon Junyoung. I’d like to formally request a business trip. Let’s schedule it until next week for now. Oh, and there are a few shared folders I can’t access—could you unlock those? I’ll give you the access codes.”

As Junyoung spoke briskly, pressing a hand to her temple, Min-sook couldn’t help but observe her with a mix of awe and trepidation. Letting out a quiet sigh, she thought to herself that one thing was clear: this woman was nothing like her predecessor, Park Hyungjun.

A protruding nail gets hammered down. And in a field already full of prickly personalities, it felt like a flintstone had just rolled into the mix.

“Oh, yes, Manager. You’re awake? It’s nothing urgent, really…”

As Min-sook tried to soothe the groggy voice on the other end of the line, she shrugged her shoulders. It was the kind of morning that made her crave a strong cup of coffee.

***

Beomjin quietly tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. It was startlingly clear, as if it had never rained at all. The sunlight beating down was harsh and relentless. Leaning precariously against the railing, he closed his eyes.

It had been this kind of season. The season when he and Junyoung had once spent time together.

Perhaps that’s why, whenever he thought of Yoon Junyoung, he felt a brightness, a clarity. Whether it was her smiling while holding a sandwich in the sun, or her quietly engrossed in a book, every memory evoked the same feeling.

…To think we’d meet again.

“Unbelievable” didn’t even begin to cover it. Sure, he’d assumed she would be living in Seoul. After all, he spent most of his time there too. He’d even entertained the thought that they might cross paths someday. Whether that thought had been mere speculation or a hope, he wasn’t sure.

But here? In a place like this, and in this way?

Letting out a low sigh, he cracked open his eyes. The image of Junyoung, drenched from the rain, standing rigidly and staring straight at him, came to mind. Her white blouse had been soaked through, revealing the lines of her undergarments, but she had seemed completely unaware—or perhaps utterly unbothered.

Her sharper features, the sophisticated clothing, and the curves of her body all spoke to the passage of time. But Yoon Junyoung was still Yoon Junyoung. Fearless, bold, and entirely unselfconscious about how others might perceive her.

And I haven’t changed either. Getting closer to her still wouldn’t do her any good.

With a bitter smile, Beomjin turned away. Below him, the office building came into view. Junyoung was probably inside, hard at work.

His presence here was purely coincidental. The man who had fallen from this very spot, Jung Mansu, was one of his debtors—or rather, a debtor to his company.

Jung Mansu’s debt now stood at 71 million won, including interest. He had no collateral, just a wife and a daughter. The family’s rent of 300,000 won and their living expenses were covered by his wife, who worked at a hair salon. Meanwhile, every cent Jung Mansu earned from his construction job was being funneled to the company.

He wasn’t just any laborer; he was a skilled technician specializing in laying water and sewage pipes, which meant his earnings weren’t bad. If he and his wife had worked diligently, their daughter could have attended college without any financial worries.

If only Jung Mansu hadn’t gotten into gambling.

At least he had managed to pull himself out relatively quickly. For most people, once they fell into gambling, clawing their way back was almost impossible. But Mansu had a strong attachment to his family.

The wake-up call had come when his wife collapsed from overwork and lay unconscious on the pavement for three days. It was a phone call from their daughter that finally snapped him out of it.

By then, he had already borrowed over 100 million won.