WOP Ch 1.7

“Ah, I see. Must be a friend? Take your time. I’ll order for us.”

Ha Joyoon briefly glanced at Kang Taejung’s companion walking away to find a seat before stepping closer to him. But as he approached, Taejung’s face hardened frighteningly.

The closer the physical distance, the farther the emotional distance seemed to grow. The dreadful sensation coursed through his veins, striking his heart. Biting his trembling lip, Ha Joyoon struggled to say the words he hadn’t managed to speak for days.

“I’ve tried to contact you several times…”

“……”

The indifferent gaze staring at him scared him. It felt like worn-out, desensitized, decaying sand.

“I sent texts… and called, but there was no reply…”

“……”

“But here we are, meeting like this.”

“…I’m sorry. I’ve been so busy with work lately.”

The automatic apology made Ha Joyoon smile bitterly. For a while, no words were exchanged. An uncomfortable atmosphere settled in.

Struggling to hold himself together, Joyoon lowered his gaze. Was there anything more pathetic than begging for remnants of affection from someone whose heart had already left? Despite instinctively knowing there was no hope in their meetings, he hated himself for not being able to give up. He knew his actions, words, and very existence could be a burden or a source of pain to others. But… but.

“Am I not supposed to contact you?”

You haven’t yet told me we are properly done.

“……”

“Could you at least give me an answer?”

You haven’t yet completely ended things with me.

So, I cling to that single fact, even if it might just be an empty hope. I believe that you are just confused right now. That you are only angry with me. And that you need some more time to think. But…

“Look at me.”

“……”

“Taejung. Please?”

Even at his desperate plea, Taejung’s gaze never met his. With an expression that showed his discomfort, Joyoon felt like he had become a perpetrator indiscriminately assaulting Taejung.

“Not here. Don’t do this here.”

Just before he was overwhelmed by the approaching sadness, Joyoon suddenly remembered that Kang Taejung might feel troubled. Unlike himself, who didn’t care about others’ opinions, Taejung hadn’t revealed the existence of a same-sex lover to those around him for various reasons. Two men with a peculiar atmosphere in a crowded restaurant might seem odd to Taejung’s companion.

Realizing this, Joyoon unconsciously took a step back. Seeing him withdraw, Taejung finally looked up, facing his past. I’m sorry. In a trembling voice, Joyoon continued quickly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how it might trouble you.”

“……”

“I’ll call you again. Go ahead. Your friends are waiting… I was thoughtless.”

“Yoon. That’s not it.”

“I’m sorry.”

The desperate look in his eyes was just the same, making Joyoon mistakenly believe he still loved him. Just as he had been cruel to Taejung, Taejung’s gentleness in not being able to decisively reject him felt equally cruel now.

“Yoon.”

“……”

“I’ll call… I’ll call you later.”

With a heavy heart, Joyoon turned away. He felt Taejung’s intense gaze, but he couldn’t bear to look back, fearing the complex emotions in those eyes. In contrast, the indifferent gaze of Shin Kwonjoo, watching the situation with detached interest, felt more comforting.

“…Please, make sure to call.”

“……”

“…I’m going now.”

Joyoon quickly followed Shin Kwonjoo outside. Though Taejung’s voice called lowly, he didn’t look back again.

Outside, the noise of midday and the afternoon sun were bright and lively. Ha Joyoon shielded his eyes slightly from the blinding sunlight. Shin Kwonjoo, who had already stepped onto the sidewalk and was heading towards the parking lot, turned to look at Joyoon following him.

“I’ve never met him, but I’ve heard his voice enough to recognize it. That’s Kang Taejung, right?”

He remembered Taejung saying he had called him enough to be a bother. Ha Joyoon, hiding his sadness, nodded.

“Yes…”

Shin Kwonjoo’s sharp gaze intensified.

“Ha Joyoon, are you that way inclined?”

It was a straightforward question with no hesitation. Though the subject wasn’t explicitly stated, it was clear he was asking about his orientation. Not knowing how to answer, Ha Joyoon realized that any lie would be futile and shook his head.

“No, I’m not. I haven’t had the same feelings for any other man.”

It was an indirect admission of his relationship with Kang Taejung. A low chuckle followed.

“As you know, the media is a conservative field. While you might be fine working freely on your own, you should be cautious if you’re affiliated with any organization. Especially, Ha Joyoon, you need to learn to hide your emotions.”

With a cold remark, Shin Kwonjoo opened the driver’s side door and added,

“Anyone could tell if you look at someone like that.”

“Did it look strange? I just… wanted to say hello. I had something to ask as well.”

Ha Joyoon asked as he sat in the passenger seat. His straightforward answer, without any attempt to hide his thoughts, gradually filled Shin Kwonjoo’s gaze with incredulity.

“Hey… don’t you know how to hide things?”

“Hide things?”

“Looking at someone with those lingering emotions, it’s quite obvious. It could be bothersome for the other person.”

His words were devoid of any emotion. How wonderful it would be to manage emotions as clearly as those words suggested. Ha Joyoon, staring blankly at Shin Kwonjoo, rubbed his dry eyes. The fatigue brought back the headache he had temporarily pushed aside. He recalled the doctor’s advice to take the medication right after a meal, but his petty pride stopped him from doing so in front of others.

“Would it have been better if I had said no?”

“…I don’t know if you’re thoughtless or if you trust me too much.”

“I thought it was better than lying.”

“I knew you were unique, but I didn’t realize you were so reckless.”

Shin Kwonjoo remarked in a lofty tone as he started the car. The long shadows cast by the setting sun streamed through the car window, illuminating the two. Joyoon quietly leaned his head against the window, following the red spots on his hand caused by the sunlight. The warmth on his forehead gently calmed his anxious heart.

“I’m sorry, Sunbae.”

“Forget it.”

“I know you find it bothersome… but I had no one else to talk to.”

“You know, Ha Joyoon, you’re the first person to use me as a counselor.”

The man responded in a tone of disbelief. Joyoon chuckled and leaned his head back again.

There’s nothing left. Looking back on the path of life, there’s no one to confide in about his worries. Narrow and blind relationships. The connection with Kang Taejung being everything. A relationship where they only spoke to each other and no one else. Even in moments of unbearable pain, it was a lonely relationship with no one to seek comfort from. That was all there was.

Trying to shake off the gloomy mood, Ha Joyoon closed his eyes tightly, attempting to forget the creeping headache.

“Sunbae.”

He felt the man’s head turn slightly. The unspoken question buried deep within his heart was now being voiced.

“Should I not have returned?”

Though the subject was unnamed, it was clear whom he was referring to. Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes, fixed on Joyoon, shimmered ambiguously. Cold silence filled the car. After a moment of contemplation, gripping the steering wheel, Shin Kwonjoo shifted gears and replied.

“That’s not something I can decide.”

Ha Joyoon quietly scattered a laugh at the cynical response. He expressed his gratitude, but there was no further reaction. With the heavy engine sound, the car slowly began to move. A strange sense of relief washed over him, grateful for the man’s presence beside him. It was a cold statement, but at that moment, it served as a comfort, as absurd as it seemed.

“Is that a friend of yours, Assistant Manager Kang?”

A colleague asked Kang Taejung, who had just returned to his seat.

“Yes, an old friend.”

Though he answered calmly and sat down, his voice sounded oddly strained. Friend. Even though he had said it himself, the word returned as a wound. Forcing down the bitterness lingering on his tongue, Kang Taejung gulped down a glass of cold water. His superior, taking his reaction lightly, continued.

“What does he do?”

“…He’s a photojournalist.”

“Wow, that’s a cool job.”

Whistling lightly, his superior filled Taejung’s empty glass with water. He then continued, recalling the face that had left an impression.

“He looks so refined, I thought he might be a model or an actor. Must have made a lot of lovers cry?”

“…He’s not that kind of person. He’s upright and diligent. He’s a good photographer.”

“Haha, sticking up for your friend? It’s not a bad thing for a guy to hear that. It means he looks popular. But he seems a bit restless. Maybe it’s his job?”

“He does travel abroad often.”

“Tsk tsk… that must be hard for his family.”

Following his superior, who clicked his tongue and started eating, Kang Taejung also reluctantly moved some food to his plate. But his throat felt parched as if filled with sand.

It was a familiar sentiment. People who saw Ha Joyoon for the first time often felt drawn to his delicate appearance and unique aura. Over time, most grew weary of his indifferent attitude and drifted away, but Taejung always felt uneasy about the attention Joyoon received. Even though it was in the past, his heart was unsettled by strange ripples.

“You two make quite the picture together. Must be because you’re both good-looking.”

“Hahaha, exactly. I thought the same. You two look good together.”

The colleague beside his superior chimed in, laughing. Though intended as a compliment, it felt like bitter poison to Taejung. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably.

“Thank you for the kind words.”

Forcing a smile, Taejung recalled the recent encounter. Just thinking about Joyoon’s noticeably gaunt face made his heart race as if it would burst.

Why do you look like that? Are you eating properly? Are you staying up all night looking at photos again because you can’t sleep?

Questions he couldn’t bring himself to ask spun around in his mind. He couldn’t bear how much everything about Ha Joyoon bothered him. If it weren’t for his companions, he might have followed him outside.

No, the companion was an excuse. It was just a mix of guilt, regret, and self-reproach aimed at someone. Kang Taejung immediately denied his feelings.

He was scared. He didn’t want to be shaken anymore. He didn’t want his heart to be shattered again. If it happened one more time, he wasn’t sure he could live with a sane mind.

Taejung couldn’t believe Ha Joyoon was really alive in front of him. Even after quite some time had passed, it still felt like a dream, and he often woke up suddenly, wondering if he had gone mad.

He hadn’t responded to Joyoon’s calls for almost a month because he couldn’t trust his own self-control. Just wanting to see him wasn’t enough to return everything to the way it was. They had walked too many steps, and the five-year distance in reality was too vast. He knew it was best for both himself and Ha Joyoon to end things properly. And he also knew he was endlessly avoiding that responsibility.

‘Taejung.’

‘Hyung, I really love you.’

‘Look at me.’

‘I trust you, Hyung.’

Undefined voices mixed into a mess. And his heart, too, swayed like a ship adrift on the waves. The time to reach a clear conclusion was approaching, but the unresolved fragments of his heart tormented him.

❄️️

Knock, knock.

The sound of knocking broke the silence, momentarily pausing the hands busy flipping through documents. Yes. The heavy, low-pitched voice granting permission opened the firmly closed door, and a man with a gentle demeanor stepped into the office.

“Director, I have sent the materials to the headquarters as you confirmed.”

“Understood. Have you checked all the distribution channels?”

“Yes, I have categorized them by media outlet.”

“Good work.”

“By the way, I sent Reporter Ha to cover today’s protest.”

The man, who had been tapping the end of the document with his pen indifferently, slowly lifted his head. His eyes, full of reproach, were cold. The atmosphere radiated sharpness like a spire, making Kim Chaehwan involuntarily shiver. As the editorial manager of TPA Communications’ Korean branch, he considered himself fairly open-minded and got along well with people, but the newly appointed branch director was anything but easy to approach.

“Aren’t there any other reporters?”

“Everyone else is out in the field.”

The afternoon sunlight brightly illuminated the office, but it did nothing to dissipate the coldness in the air. The boss’s furrowed brow and piercing gaze were evident signs of displeasure.

Unaccustomed to seeing his superior’s anger, Kim Chaehwan racked his brain to identify any mistake he might have made in his report. But he could think of nothing. Meanwhile, his palms grew sweaty.

“Director…?”

“……”

“If there’s nothing more, I’ll take my leave.”

Kim Chaehwan’s attempt to leave the office quickly ended in failure due to the following question.

“Isn’t the metalworkers’ union also participating in today’s Gwanghwamun protest?”

Annoyed. He was annoyed. That was the voice of someone unbelievably annoyed.

Having worked with Shin Kwonjoo for the past few months, Kim Chaehwan felt like he was dealing with a catastrophe. He wiped his wet hands on his pants and forced a smile.

“Yes, all the hardline unions are mobilizing today. The police force is expected to be at its highest for this year’s protests. Though it’s early to say, there are significant risk factors for violent incidents today. We’ve received reports that they’re already stacking bus tops in the square before the protest even starts. I assigned Reporter Ha because he has a lot of experience in conflict zones. He may look frail, but he’s tough. Of course, I’ve instructed him to withdraw immediately if it gets too dangerous….”

His voice trailed off, intimidated by his boss’s fierce glare. The director looked as if he could kill someone with his gaze, leaving Kim Chaehwan standing frozen in place for a long time.

“……”

The sound of the door closing brought back the silence. It was an overwhelming quiet, where even breathing seemed impossible.

Leaning against the front window with a clear view of the Han River, Shin Kwonjoo habitually took out a cigarette. Click. The polished Zippo lighter produced a flame, releasing thick, toxic smoke. His gaze, colder than usual, was fixed on the flowing river.

A low exhale sent a cloud of smoke obscuring the view from the window. Suddenly, the image of a weak and foolish person who couldn’t manage himself flashed through his mind, followed by the face of someone equally foolish with their beliefs. A cold, cynical smile appeared on one corner of his lips.

❄️️

“Are you going out already?”

Hearing the noise from the shoe cabinet, Ha Junghye jumped up from the living room sofa. Ha Joyoon, who was hurriedly putting on his sneakers, turned around.

“Yeah.”

“Where to?”

“Gwanghwamun… There’s a protest today, so I need to go cover it.”

“Are you sure it’s okay to start working already? Is it a dangerous protest?”

Worried, Junghye’s voice trailed off. Joyoon shrugged.

“It’ll be fine.”

“…But still, be careful.”

Ha Junghye adjusted her brother’s disheveled collar with calm hands and patted his back. She knew that he had been suffering every night because of Kang Taejung since his return, but even a hasty attempt at comfort felt precarious. Perhaps it was better for him to distract himself, even just a little.

“Got it.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Ha Joyoon felt a bit embarrassed by her affectionate words and scratched the back of his head as he replied.

“The company has been very considerate.”

“That’s a relief. Besides, with your Sunbae around, I don’t have to worry.”

Ha Joyoon couldn’t help but frown at her trusting tone. He recalled the day he had gone to see Shin Kwonjoo, only to be turned away.

“What’s wrong?”

Seeing her brother’s sudden silence, Junghye looked at him curiously. Joyoon hesitated for a moment before shaking his head.

“Nothing.”

Junghye chuckled softly at his quiet response and buried her face in his chest. She could feel the slow heartbeat that resembled her own. Though he didn’t talk much, she genuinely loved her kind and deeply thoughtful brother.

“I don’t like that you went back to work so soon, but it’s nice to see you commuting from home. Mom and Dad don’t show it, but they’re really happy too.”

“Are they?”

“I hope you don’t go to dangerous places anymore… I wish it could always be like this.”

She hugged him a little tighter. Gently patting the fragrant hair of his sister, Ha Joyoon nodded. Despite her words being meant for him, he couldn’t easily promise her that he would stay. Is there a choice that makes everyone happy? Can there be a choice that satisfies everyone? He wanted to know the answer, even though he knew it was impossible.

The protest was larger than anticipated. As more people joined the demonstration, the number of police forces controlling them also increased. The atmosphere, which had initially been peaceful, grew more violent as the participants continued their speeches and the authorities heightened their control. The more alarming the situation became, the faster his shutter clicked to capture those moments.

Rrrr—

Amidst the chaos of loudspeakers blaring and people shouting, his phone rang. Seeing Shin Kwonjoo’s name on the screen, Joyoon quickly answered. Click, click, click. Even as he answered the call, the sound of the camera shutter didn’t stop. “Ha Joyoon?” A low voice came through the receiver. With his phone wedged between his shoulder and cheek, Ha Joyoon calmly reported the situation.

— Yes, Director.

“How’s the atmosphere?”

“It’s not good. It looks like more police will be deployed. The crowd is getting agitated.”

His expression grew darker as he surveyed the scene. The tension in the square escalated further as police buses approached from a distance.

“The schedule might be delayed. The protest is getting rougher, and I don’t think I’ll be able to move to Yeouido this afternoon.”

— That’s fine. It might be better to stay there till the end.

“What should I do about the photos?”

— Can you send them in real-time?

“Yes, I have my tablet. But the network seems a bit unstable due to the large crowd.”

— Send them whenever you can. The office is on standby to sort through them immediately.

“Understood. I’ll stay here until it’s over.”

— …If anything happens, call right away. Don’t get caught up in your sense of duty and start taking risks with the camera.

“Yes…”

Though it was just an ordinary statement, it felt oddly reassuring. “I’ll hang up now.” Feeling unfamiliar with the concern, Ha Joyoon nodded as if the person was right in front of him and ended the call.

But there was no time for contemplation as the situation quickly escalated, scattering his thoughts like dust.

Woooahhh-

As one of the event organizers finished speaking, a roar erupted across the square. The tension among the deployed police forces, as well as Joyoon’s own, peaked.

The tipping point came when one of the protesters challenged the police forming a human barricade. As a citizen approached the police to question their interference with the protest, water cannons were suddenly fired, throwing the protester several meters.

This sparked the furious crowd, who began to charge at the police and military officers. It was a flash of rage. Click, click, click- The frenzied camera captured every raw act in vivid detail.

“Ha Joyoon! Yoon-ah !”

Amidst the erupting crowd, a familiar voice pierced through. The hand that had been tirelessly documenting the scene hesitated for a moment. Turning his head, he saw Song Jinah dressed in simple clothes among the crowd.

“Song Jinah? …What are you doing here? Aren’t you in the international department?”

Momentarily speechless, Ha Joyoon called out to her.

“The social department was short-staffed, so I was urgently reassigned. Are you here alone?”

“No. I was supposed to meet someone, but the connection is bad.”

“Same here. I came with a colleague, but we got separated when the crowd surged. I saw you and ran over. Better to grab onto a rotten lifeline than none.”

Their playful banter soon ceased as the agitated crowd began to lose control due to the police’s forceful actions.

Woooahhh–

Cries of rage echoed back and forth. The announcements from the organizers trying to restore order became meaningless echoes that didn’t reach anyone’s hearts. The square quickly turned into chaos filled with furious people.

Briefly glancing at Song Jinah’s trembling hand clutching his shirt sleeve, Joyoon positioned her behind him.

“Stay with me. You could get hurt if you get caught in the crowd.”

“You’re quite dependable, huh?”

“Didn’t you call me a rotten lifeline?”

“Do you even have anything to hold onto? You’re just skin and bones. Anyway, the police response is…”

Her forced laugh was cut short as water cannons were fired at the citizens again right before their eyes.

“That’s insane! Are they crazy?! What are they thinking, shooting directly at people like that?!”

Biting her red lips, Song Jinah shouted furiously. As she said, the water cannons mixed with tear gas were indiscriminately attacking the defenseless people. Agonized screams erupted from all around.

“Stay behind me, don’t come out. The police seem out of control. They’re shooting indiscriminately, it’s dangerous.”

“But…!”

“Hold on to me tightly, don’t let go.”

“I’ll keep moving with you. I’ll at least record everything on my phone!”

Shielding the horrified Song Jinah behind him, Ha Joyoon urgently grabbed his camera. Click, click, click- The camera’s shutter never stopped, no matter the situation. His hands moved tirelessly to capture every moment.

All history had to be recorded. The abyss before him was a brutal execution of sovereignty collapsing under government authority. Even those helping the fallen were not spared from the attacks.

Bastards… Curses, like groans, slipped from between his crushed lips.

It was then.

A man with a bleeding forehead, looking as if he had been beaten, staggered towards Joyoon. He needed support, but those around him were too occupied with their own safety. There was no hesitation. Joyoon stopped taking photos, pushed Song Jinah against a wall corner, and shouted fiercely.

“Jinah, stay here. It’s dangerous.”

“Where are you going, Yoon-ah !”

“I’ll be back soon. That man seems to have hurt his head.”

Joyoon assessed the man’s condition from a distance. His half-closed eyes and the bloodstains indicated he was in bad shape.

“Yoon-ah , it’s dangerous to go there now! Hey!”

Without thinking, Joyoon ran towards him. The police noticed his movement at the same time. The water cannon that was aimed at the protesters suddenly shifted its direction.

Shhhhaaahhh—-!!

“Yoon-ah !”

Song Jinah’s shrill scream was accompanied by a massive blow to his head. Before he could even process the sharp attack soaking his entire body, his consciousness went dark. Even as he heard the sobbing voice calling his name, his awareness faded.

He had imagined the end of his life once. It was after seeing a photo of a journalist’s death captured by Adrees Latif during the anti-government protests in Myanmar. The journalist had raised both arms, still holding his camera, until his final moments after being shot by government troops. He had desperately tried to capture one last frame of that cruel reality. Like him, Joyoon thought he might also die covering a civil war. He hadn’t considered how such thoughts could cause pain to those waiting and loving him.

There was a night when, exhausted from filming, he slept wherever he could. A boy lay beside him on a desert sand dune, gazing at the setting moon, and whispered sadly in his ear.

الوقت كالسيف إن لم تقطعه قطعك Time is like a sword…

If you don’t cut it, it will cut you.

Koli,

The sharp blade of time you spoke of has cut my love and life. My selfish choice hurt him and drove him away. No matter how much I look back, there’s no one left to protect me. Is this what it feels like to have no place to return to? He was my reason for coming back, but now I feel like I’ve lost that reason.

…Yoon-ah …!

…Yoon…!

The voice echoed through his entire head, slowly bringing his blurry vision into focus. Yoon-ah , Yoon-ah – It was a rough, agonized voice, resembling a scream.

“Yoon-ah ! Yoon-ah , are you conscious?”

“……”

“Yoon-ah … Yoon-ah , what should I do… sob… Are you okay? Those crazy bastards, shooting water like that at people… What should I do… Those crazy bastards, just wait and see how I deal with them…! Waaaah….”

As he blinked slowly, Song Jinah’s tear-streaked face came into view. Realizing he was not in the same place where he had lost consciousness, it was clear she had moved him. Moving an unconscious adult male amidst the chaos must have been difficult. He felt a sudden surge of guilt.

“Song Jinah…”

“Huh? Y-yes… what…”

“Your makeup’s all gone…”

At his weak tone, Song Jinah’s sobbing grew louder. Joyoon struggled to lift his arm to wipe the tears off her soaked cheeks. His fingers came away blackened with mascara. Chuckling at her smeared face, Song Jinah’s eyes quickly narrowed.

“What are you saying… You… sob… You were unconscious for over two hours. I’m sorry, I should have taken you to the hospital immediately, but there are too many people, and the paramedics can’t get through…”

“The camera?”

“You crazy bastard, you hear the camera sound in this situation?!”

“It shouldn’t get wet…”

“Shouldn’t get wet? Whether it gets wet or not, the lens is already shattered!”

Song Jinah screamed in horror. Shattered? A sigh escaped Ha Joyoon involuntarily from the frustration. However, the conversation mixed with blame was short-lived. The scene was still chaotic with shouts and sirens.

Ha Joyoon only then realized that he and Song Jinah were still at the scene, enveloped by the still frenzied air. It was not a good situation. Deciding he should get Song Jinah out of there first, he was about to push himself off the ground with both hands when…

“Jinah, not here…”

“Be quiet.”

A voice filled with irritation came from right beside him, one that shouldn’t have been there.

“Huh…”

Turning around in disbelief, there was an unexpected person. The man, leaning on a block and awkwardly checking his phone, was clearly his boss from a few hours ago. Surprise spread across Joyoon’s pale face, followed by a mix of discomfort, pain, and relief.

Shin Kwonjoo wore his usual cold expression, but something was off. His typically neat hair and attire were somewhat disheveled. His profile, glaring at the scene of the protest while breathing heavily, was rigid as if no light could penetrate it.

As he half-rose, the jacket that had been clumsily covering him slipped off. It looked at least two sizes too big – definitely the man’s clothes.

“…Sunbae?”

Calling out with a hoarse voice, Shin Kwonjoo turned around with a fierce expression. His eyes were like those of a universe on the brink of an explosion, filled with something intense. Under the cold gaze, Ha Joyoon instinctively shrank back. His body, having taken the full brunt of the water cannon, was completely soaked, his face pale as a corpse from hypothermia. Shin Kwonjoo’s gaze grew even fiercer upon seeing him. Song Jinah’s sobbing broke the uncomfortable silence.

“I contacted our Sunbae. Sob… I couldn’t protect you alone. You weren’t even showing signs of waking up…”

“Ah…”

“Are you okay? I was so scared I thought I’d die.”

Wiping away her tears messily, Song Jinah sobbed. Feeling awkward and worried, Ha Joyoon looked around helplessly. Sunbae. At the softly spoken call, Shin Kwonjoo’s displeased gaze slowly looked over Ha Joyoon. Only then did Joyoon notice the dust and various debris staining Shin Kwonjoo’s cream-colored shirt, pants, and shoes. In this disheveled state, Joyoon picked up the jacket from the ground and fully stood up.

“Ugh…”

The pain in his head overwhelmed him, causing him to collapse again, despite standing up with such vigor.

“Yoon-ah!”

Song Jinah’s worried voice mingled with the ringing in his ears, sounding almost like a scream. Suppressing a painful groan, Ha Joyoon tightly shut his eyes. Did he bring any medication? Searching his bag, he realized he hadn’t grabbed anything but his camera in the chaos. At that moment, a firm arm with prominent muscles and veins lifted him up.

“Get on my back.”

“But…”

Before he could protest, his body was already leaning onto the wide back that suddenly appeared.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The cold tone was sharp, but only for a moment. Even if he thought rationally, it was impossible to get Song Jinah out of there in his current state. Moreover, his headache was severe, and he was shivering from the cold water. It was more urgent to move locations with the man’s help rather than stubbornly waste time. Joyoon reluctantly leaned into him.

“…I’m sorry.”

“Did you not hear what I said? Didn’t I tell you not to charge in blindly?”

“I wasn’t trying to take pictures… There was someone injured.”

His gaze sharpened like a blade at the weak excuse.

“Are you not aware that running through a crowd of thousands of people, whether they’re injured or dead, is a crazy act? You’ve been shot before, right?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“I really don’t understand you.”

While he was angrily scolding, Joyoon awkwardly gripped his shoulder, and an irritable command came.

“Do you want to roll around somewhere else? Hold on properly before you fall.”

“Yes? …Yes.”

Joyoon hastily agreed and relaxed his body, leaning into him. Just in time, Shin Kwonjoo’s arm, which had been firmly supporting him, tightened. The unsteady body found stability through his solid support.

“Where did you say the medical team was?”

“They’re continuing emergency treatments at the east exit, so I told them to move there.”

“Song Jinah, follow with the bags.”

“Yes, yes, Sunbae.”

Song Jinah, with her disheveled face, gathered the scattered belongings and followed. The wide stride caused vibrations in the body on his back. Unlike the usual dry yet refreshing scent, the man’s back where Joyoon’s cheek touched was sweaty, mixed with the smell of dust and body odor, layered with stubborn determination. His shirt also got wet from the water that had thoroughly soaked Joyoon. Watching the growing water stain, Ha Joyoon whispered quietly.

“I’m sorry, Sunbae, your clothes are all wet because of me.”

“…”

“Sunbae, you shouldn’t contact home. Everyone will worry so much…”

“…Just be quiet.”

The voice that answered, trying to suppress anger, was harsh. Ha. Joyoon let out a low laugh, and the muscles on Shin Kwonjoo’s back tensed up.

“You really shouldn’t contact them… really…”

“I got it, so stay still,” he said.

Though his tone was gruff and tinged with irritation, Ha Joyoon didn’t feel bad about it. Pushing aside his complex emotions, he took a slow, deep breath. Fatigue and headache brought on drowsiness.

When he woke up, it was evening. Fighting off the encroaching sleepiness, Ha Joyoon tried to snap back to reality. A low voice soon brought him back to the present.

“Are you coming to your senses?”

“…Yes.”

Blinking, his vision gradually cleared from the gloom. The inside of the vehicle was familiar. Joyoon fumbled through his memories, dazed. After being carried on Shin Kwonjoo’s back from the scene, he had woken up in an emergency room bed, but he remembered nothing after that. Turning his eyes slowly, he saw a familiar face. Perhaps due to fatigue, the man’s nose and jawline seemed sharper than usual.

“I moved you to the car after you collapsed while being discharged after receiving an IV.”

As if reading his mind, Shin Kwonjoo briefly informed him of what he was curious about.

“Oh, I see.”

Joyoon straightened up and checked his condition. His hand paused at the unfamiliar clothes he was wearing, and then he opened the window slightly to see the man smoking glance at him before adding an explanation.

“Your clothes were too wet to wear again, so I just bought something for you to wear. Your old clothes weren’t saved.”

“Thank you. By the way, I’ll wash your clothes…”

“I threw them away. Don’t worry about it.”

His curt refusal fell flat. Ha Joyoon, momentarily speechless, then kept silent. His hand, touching the stiff new pants, lacked strength.

“What are you doing? Get out.”

“Oh, yes.”

Startled by the abrupt order to leave, Ha Joyoon raised his head. The unreadable black irises shone heavily. The awkward atmosphere was quite uncomfortable.

“You don’t seem well, so take tomorrow off and I’ll see you the day after. I’ll take the memory card.”

He wasn’t dull enough to miss the implied desire to end the conversation. It was a feeling he’d sensed several times recently from others. Ignoring the bitter feeling, Ha Joyoon forced himself to bid farewell.

“Yes, see you the day after then.”

“…Go to the hospital properly tomorrow. Since you had a shock from falling, it would be good to get an imaging scan.”

“Oh, I’m fine now.”

“Are you a doctor, Ha Joyoon? That kind of self-management is the most foolish and pathetic. No one will consider it a great sacrifice, so go to the hospital.”

“Yes… I understand.”

With his expressionless eyes and firm voice, he cut off any chance for further conversation. Feeling an unwarranted sense of hurt, Ha Joyoon glanced at him, but Shin Kwonjoo didn’t even look at him as he got out of the car, appearing angry. Did something happen while he was unconscious? He couldn’t remember at all.

For some reason, meeting Shin Kwonjoo’s eyes today was difficult. Unable to find the right words, Ha Joyoon soon gave up on further conversation and grabbed the door handle.

“Sunbae, take care on your way back.”

“Rest.”

“…Thank you for today.”

“…”

Shin Kwonjoo, who had been staring at him, turned his gaze forward and spoke.

“Ha Joyoon.”

His voice clearly enunciated each syllable of the name.

“There was someone I knew who was similar to you, Ha Joyoon.”

“…What?”

Confusion clouded his eyes at the unexpected remark. Shin Kwonjoo, gripping the steering wheel tightly enough for the veins on his hand to stand out, looked unusually large and pale.

“He was plastered with conviction. He would rush to any conflict zone or refugee area.”

“…”

“His sense of justice was so intense he couldn’t just watch his subjects suffer. If he took a photo, whether it was bullets flying or shells dropping, he’d run to rescue them.”

The night wind touched his ears. It was damp and humid yet somehow cold, chilling even the heart. Ha Joyoon gently touched his earlobe as the man’s voice continued, heavy with emotion.

“His photos were always excellent. Even I was impressed. That’s because he always took them risking his life at the closest range. He never entered contests, but those in the know knew him. Maybe even Ha Joyoon knows of him.”

Tap. Tap-tap. 

His long fingers tapped the steering wheel like playing a song, contrasting with his expressionless face. Ha Joyoon quietly urged the story forward.

“Is he still active?”

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. … … 

The rhythm slowed down and finally stopped entirely. Absolute silence fell. His gaze moved slowly.

“He’s dead.”

His firm, impenetrable eyes stared sharply at the person beside him.

“He was rescuing people where shells had fallen when another round of shelling hit. He was obliterated; not even a piece of him was found.”

“…”

“Dying is like that, Ha Joyoon. So be thankful you’re still alive and in one piece. Don’t be stubborn about foolish things and go to the hospital tomorrow. I thought I’d have to deal with a corpse today.”

“…I’m sorry about today…”