WOP Ch 1.5

“More importantly, are you alright? What was wrong that kept you bedridden for five years?”

Until a moment ago, the tone was full of laughter, but now it’s quite serious. When she let out a snort filled with ridicule, Song Jinah’s eyes immediately sharpened.

“This is the thanks I get for worrying about you!”

Ha Joyoon slowly waved his hand to stop the barrage of scolding he expected to follow.

“I’m fine. I wouldn’t be out meeting people like this if I weren’t.”

“That’s a relief, but… wait a minute.”

At the sound of a message alert, Song Jinah trailed off and checked her phone. Soon, her brow furrowed slightly. Ha Joyoon, still lying back, spoke up as he heard her mutter, “That jerk, Dongjin.”

“What is it?”

“It’s Dongjin. He contacted me saying he’ll have to stay late at work and can’t make it today. He couldn’t call, so he left a message. He said he’d call you directly. Is that okay?”

“Yeah.”

Nodding quietly at the news of the schedule change of another friend they planned to meet, Ha Joyoon didn’t feel particularly disappointed. In these turbulent times, the life of a journalist felt like a constant war, and he understood the situation.

“I’m here, risking my life to check if you’re alive, and I might have to write an explanation letter at work tomorrow. You should be grateful, right? Makes you wanna cry, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, I’m extremely touched.”

“I’m so busy these days. With accidents happening every other day, I barely get any sleep. I can’t even remember when I last went home.”

Ha Joyoon’s mind wandered back to the office he visited recently for an appointment with Shin Kwonjoo. At the time, he had just returned to the country and was completely unaware of the domestic situation. It was only later that he learned through the media about the numerous scandals involving stock manipulation, accounting fraud by a major conglomerate, and the corruption gate of a national leader. The office that had felt like a ghost town suddenly made sense.

As he reminisced, Ha Joyoon tapped his chin gently with his fingers. He had planned to meet Shin Kwonjoo again this week but had received no contact yet. Even the message he sent a few days ago remained unanswered.

Could he be that busy? Would it be better to send a message directly to him?

Noticing Ha Joyoon’s distant expression, Song Jinah scratched the back of his hand lightly with her nail.

“Hey, are you not paying attention to me?”

With a savage voice tinged with amusement, Ha Joyoon smiled faintly and rubbed his eyes.

“I saw the Sunbae a few days ago.”

“Sunbae?” She echoed, puzzled, before hitting her knee in realization. “Oh—Kwonjoo? I heard TPA moved its Asia office to Korea last year, and he became the bureau chief. He doesn’t seem like he’ll stay long, though.”

“Yes. Thanks for connecting our family with him. I appreciate it.”

“You should be grateful to me. It was harder than getting a scoop to contact him. He’s so picky and busy, acting like he’s the only one with things to do. It was annoying, but I had no choice but to grovel.”

Recalling the embarrassing experience he had recently, Ha Joyoon smiled wryly. “Re-al-ly.” Drawing out her words, Song Jinah sighed.

“He didn’t even bat an eyelash when I told him you were missing.”

“It’s not like we were close enough to shock him.”

“Still, you were his college junior and worked under him at one point. How can he be so indifferent? Although, in the end, it was Kwonjoo who did all the crucial work to find you. Even if he acted annoyingly, he helped when needed. He has incredible connections in the media. People say he’s from a media tycoon family, and it seems true. Despite his irritating attitude, he’s a big shot at TPA. It was thanks to him that we managed to contact the foreign correspondent in Syria.”

Listening to Song Jinah, Ha Joyoon’s eyes calmed.

“Since it was related to the civil war, there was no cooperation between countries, and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs could only take routine measures. You aren’t in a high-ranking position, so the National Intelligence Service wasn’t going to move for you. If you had been held hostage by terrorists, those attention-seeking guys would have made a video of you, and the country might have taken interest. You almost died a pointless death. Understand?”

It was a harsh reality and a summary of the past five years. Everything she said was true. With a grim face, Ha Joyoon nodded quietly.

“Yes….”

“You should have taken care of yourself. It’s not the Cold War era anymore. Who recklessly goes into the middle of a civil war to take photos? Who will recognize you for that? You don’t want a Pulitzer, and you’re not trying to make a name for yourself, so why? You lack moderation.”

“I don’t do that anymore. But I didn’t lose everything; I gained some things too.”

“Gained what? Come on.”

Despite her sincere concern, Ha Joyoon gave a weak smile. Though he had lost a lot, he didn’t think it was meaningless, as he had also gained something. As he reflected on reality and the past, a bittersweet expression spread across his face.

Sensing the darkened atmosphere, Song Jinah intentionally changed the subject to lighten the mood.

“Anyway, did you talk well with the Sunbae? Did you bow in gratitude?”

“I met him, but I was late for our appointment.”

“Well, he is a busy person, so it happens. Just be thankful.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Song Jinah’s red lips opened in shock.

“Why?”

“I got distracted by something else while walking and lost track of time.”

“You’re crazy. You blew off the great Shin Kwonjoo.”

“That’s not it….”

“He must have wanted to grind you into dust with his personality. Hahaha, you’re crazy. Oh, by the way, you need to return to work too. What did the head office say?”

“Well… they asked me to send photos first.”

“As expected from TPA. Such dedication to the job. Hahaha.”

“Stop laughing and listen to me… Song Jinah….”

A look of embarrassment surfaced on his neat features. Ha ha ha. Laughter, a clear voice, quiet laughter, and soft voices flowed between them.

As they began to speak one by one, conversations gradually filled the gap of the time they hadn’t seen each other. Stories about family, friends, alumni, work, and various topics filled their conversation. Most of the conversation was led by Song Jinah, and Ha Joyoon responded concisely or nodded briefly.

During the time Ha Joyoon was asleep, the world around him also went through many changes and events. Discussions on economy, politics, and culture made him realize that the fervent emotions he had buried inside were gradually coming back to life.

Blind passion, ideals, dreams, and aspirations. But soon, the face of someone automatically came to mind, and the spark of sensation quickly faded away.

Could he abandon it, let it go?

Abstract questions arose with it. He felt pathetic for not being able to make a clear choice.

Just before being overwhelmed by his thoughts, an unexpected comment from Song Jinah brought him back to reality.

“By the way, if you know any good singles around, set me up on a blind date.”

“Blind date? But you have someone you’re dating.”

Song Jinah had an old lover she had promised to marry. He hadn’t formally met the person, but they often encountered each other because they worked in the same industry. The face from the blurry memory surfaced. The person who brought it up brushed back her hair with a calm face.

“We broke up a long time ago.”

“Weren’t you getting married?”

“Married? We dated for ten years, and he cheated. So it ended.”

Song Jinah answered coldly and laughed. It was a cold, twisted smile with only one corner of her mouth curled up. Though it was a short answer, Ha Joyoon’s lips slightly parted at the odd feeling of something being transferred. Silence quickly descended.

“Are you okay?”

It was a foolish question lacking understanding of the situation. Song Jinah’s frown deepened, proving it.

“I’m fine; that’s why I’m here with you.”

“How did you get over it?”

“Get over it? What are you talking about? I told you it was cheating. It was the worst. I lived in a drunken stupor for a while until I heard about you and barely got back up. I think I just wanted to forget everything back then, so I buried myself in work. I helped you in that context too. I just wanted to cling to something. In fact, I feel embarrassed when Junghye thanks me.”

“……”

Staring at her in silence, Ha Joyoon asked again.

“Are you really okay now?”

At the same question as before, Song Jinah roughly turned her phone upside down.

“What did I say? I told you I’m completely fine.”

Her voice was irritable, but Ha Joyoon was genuinely curious. How long would it take, how would one forget and be okay?

“How long until you’re okay?”

“What?”

“If you can’t keep forgetting, what do people usually do?”

“Hey, Ha Joyoon… Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

As the questions continued, Song Jinah’s tone also grew more bewildered. Hey, Yoon-ah. Despite her call, his face remained pale and expressionless.

He only knew how to love. Kang Taejung was the only person he had ever loved. No one else had ever entered Ha Joyoon’s heart. Having never experienced a breakup, he didn’t know how to overcome it. The head he had been holding in pain for days began to throb.

“Idiot. If I knew that, would I be asking you to set me up on blind dates?”

Sensing the unusual atmosphere, Song Jinah broke the silence with a more subdued tone.

“…Right.”

After that, the conversation didn’t flow well for a long time.

There is no perfect answer to overcoming a breakup. It’s a task one must handle alone.

His steps finally stopped in front of a familiar building. In fact, he had arrived much earlier, but he had been circling the area without taking the final step due to hesitation.

After parting with Song Jinah, Ha Joyoon’s final destination was Taejung’s officetel. He couldn’t even endure a few days despite saying he’d see him later. The anxiety of waiting without any contact made him lose his judgment.

‘Were you dumped? Then don’t cling to him. You’re just degrading yourself.’

It was Song Jinah’s advice as they were about to part ways. She calmly but sternly warned him not to approach any further, not to be pathetic. But unfortunately, Ha Joyoon couldn’t accept her advice. Knowing it in his head and accepting it in his heart were different. He wondered hundreds of times why he came here, knowing he shouldn’t. But the final decision he made was the worst choice.

Not clean, not cool, clinging…

All sorts of negative expressions filled his mind. An ex-lover who couldn’t see reality and was stuck in the past, an selfish and shameless person, someone who desired unnecessary things. Those words described him perfectly. Leaning against the wall, Ha Joyoon barely managed to stand.

As he rested his head gently, he met the cold night air. His nose tingled. Although he wasn’t usually emotionally volatile, he had been struggling to control his emotions lately.

…Let’s just see his face and go.

In just two meetings, he had already shown enough of his ugly side. Despite saying grandly that he wouldn’t leave and asked for another chance, he had no plan. He was just helplessly clinging to the feelings slipping through his fingers. He knew that coming without notice and lingering would only worsen the situation, but this was all he could do.

They say this kind of thing is a crime….

Looking up at the darkened window, Ha Joyoon thought blankly. This behavior is truly the worst, he knew, he knew too well, but he couldn’t control it. He had no idea how to restore the relationship or what he could do, other than just clinging on.

Since that day’s meeting, Taejung no longer answered Joyoon’s calls. Calls went straight to voicemail, and messages went unanswered. It had already been several days since he’d spent sleepless nights staring at the phone screen, waiting for a reply that never came. His heart, worn out to the limit, was on the verge of breaking.

You’ve made up your mind to be so cruel.

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d cut me off like this.

‘Yoon-ah, do you really have to do such dangerous work?’

‘It’s not as dangerous as it used to be.’

‘But once you leave, you’ll be gone for a long time.’

‘Yes, but… Taejung, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…’

‘When you applied to be a correspondent… did you ever think of me?’

‘Taejung, I…’

Biting his lip at the sudden rush of memories. I was really a cruel and selfish lover to you.

‘Can’t you stop now?’

‘Taejung. Can’t you understand me just this once? I worked so hard to qualify. You know it was a miracle for a non-national to get that position… I really want to do well.’

‘How long are you going to keep doing this?’

‘How can I decide that…?’

‘Yeah… I see. I’m sorry for saying something pointless.’

The memories he couldn’t bear to face surged back. Kang Taejung’s pained voice was as clear as if they were talking now. No matter which scene he recalled, he had been a cruel and selfish person to Taejung.

If I got back together with you, could I give up my long-held dream?

Joyoon shook his head. Even such worries were a luxury. It was a baseless hope, a vain dream since the other person had no intention of taking him back.

One thing was certain. Like childhood toys, you can’t have everything you want. When you desire something, you might lose something else. He realized this simple fact only after losing someone precious. However, if he ever stood at a point where Kang Taejung opened his heart to him again, he would accept that he might lose something, no matter what he chose.

Without thinking to hide his gloomy expression, Ha Joyoon moved to a secluded spot away from the streetlight. The wind at the end of summer tickled his earlobes, signaling the arrival of autumn. And at that moment, he felt the presence of someone not far away. At the approaching sound, Joyoon instinctively hid.

“It feels like the heat is gradually fading away.”

Even in his dreams, the one hard to forget came into view.

“Taejung hyung.”

Someone called Taejung with a voice full of sweetness. Even someone as oblivious to others’ emotions as Ha Joyoon could immediately recognize the genuine love in that voice. My goodness, how foolish of him to think Taejung would come alone. His already tense shoulders stiffened further.

“Autumn is coming soon.”

With equal warmth, the voice responded. Just hearing Taejung’s voice made his eyes burn with emotion.

“You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It’s just… Today, I wanted to walk you home. There should be days like that too, right? I’m a man too, you know, so I feel awkward always being the one escorted. Besides, you did something nice today, so consider it a compliment.”

“Something nice?”

Kang Taejung responded with a laugh in his tone. Joyoon, who was listening intently without realizing the hurt it might bring him, strained to hear the reply.

“You’ve been very sweet to me lately. You smile more, you call more often, and you even ask to meet first.”

“Didn’t I do that before?”

“No, you didn’t. Do you not remember? Ha ha.”

The moonlight announcing the long night cast a soft glow on the two people. It was a beautiful scene, as if blessing the newly started relationship. Ha Joyoon, forgetting he could be seen, fixed his gaze on them in a daze.

“You’re doing it so I won’t feel insecure about that person, aren’t you?”

“……”

“Someone I know.”

Someone I know. The words that fell from Seo Youngwoo’s lips turned into a sharp blade and stabbed straight into Joyoon’s heart. His body, leaning against the wall, stiffened and trembled.

Someone I know, someone I know….

There was no way to hide the misery in his small voice. He knew it was the most accurate term to define the current relationship between him and Kang Taejung. But still…

“Did you know?”

Seo Youngwoo smiled faintly and gently held Kang Taejung’s arm as he answered.

“How could I not? Your voice was full of discomfort.”

“…Was it?”

A sheepish laugh followed. In silent affirmation, his lowered eyelashes trembled. Ha Joyoon, struggling with his emotions, slowly sat down on the ground.

He recalled the troubled face of Kang Taejung whenever they talked. No longer did he smile, no longer did he look happy. He only reluctantly answered the questions and clearly wanted to avoid him. That sight still remained as a painful wound. He felt like a villain in a drama, refusing to accept its ending, struggling alone.

While Ha Joyoon struggled with unfamiliar feelings, the two continued their conversation.

“…I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? I know it’s hard to cut ties cleanly right away. You were together for a long time. But you’re trying to end things, and he’s the one who can’t accept it. I understand that.”

After a brief silence, Taejung cautiously took a step closer to Seo Youngwoo. Under the moonlight, an indescribable expression full of mixed emotions slowly emerged on his face.

“Thank you for understanding. I think I need a little time. It took me five years to sort things out… but for him, it all happened in just a few days, so he’s having a really hard time.”

“That’s only natural. It may sound harsh, but honestly, I don’t care about his condition or want to be concerned with it. As long as you’re by my side… Actually, our beginning was… because of how it started, I’ve always been anxious and unsure about our relationship.”

“Youngwoo, I’m… sorry about that.”

“Seeing you struggle so much back then left a trauma for me.”

Taejung’s face contorted with guilt as he looked down at the other person scratching his head awkwardly. I’m sorry. Seo Youngwoo shook his head at the short apology.

“But I was still happy.”

“About what?”

“You told him I was just someone you know.”

“……”

“Thank you, hyung.”

At the low, earnest expression of gratitude, warmth filled Kang Taejung’s eyes. His previously still hand slowly touched Seo Youngwoo’s cheek. Hyung? The softly whispered voice melted into the night breeze. A long shadow of the moon descended slowly on Seo Youngwoo’s face. In that moment, they were the only ones for each other. And together with that, someone else’s voice overlapped.

As the two stared at each other for a long time, their lips met. Ha Joyoon buried his face in his arms and took a deep breath. Silence fell, bringing with it a calm despair.

‘Then don’t cling. You’ll only make your soul more pitiful.’

Song Jinah’s blunt voice echoed in his ears. You’re right. It’s truly pitiful and shabby. But what should I do?

What should I do? I feel like I’m going crazy, like I’m dying. What….

The sharp pain that had been ringing in his head for a while now caused cold sweat to drip down his pale forehead. His heart felt like it was about to explode. The pale complexion from the unbearable pain was revealed under the dim streetlight.

‘I love you.’

The sound of the chime they had set together changed. Throughout the conversation, you were troubled and avoided eye contact. And… you no longer seemed happy to see me. I was like a pathetic villain in a drama, unable to accept its predetermined ending, struggling alone.

‘I really love you, Yoon-ah.’

The sweet moments of warmly smiling and kissing flowed down the river with tears.

Rubbing his heated eyes with his bare arm, Ha Joyoon closed off all his senses to stop the flow of chaotic time. His shallow breaths scattered into the hazy air.

For someone, the happiest moment can become the most miserable moment for someone else, meeting at the crossroads of time. Time flowed, and so did memories. Emotions faded, deepened, and changed shape. It was the fair yet cruel law of love.

“Why are your eyes like that? Your face looks terrible.”

It was an unfiltered and honest comment. Shin Kwonjoo’s gaze was fierce as he looked at the scattered documents and laptop on the table. Despite the midsummer heat, he had buttoned his shirt up to the neck. Joyoon quietly rubbed his eyes as he looked down at the cufflinks that glowed elegantly under the light. He had cried so much for days that he could barely squint.

“I couldn’t sleep well because I didn’t know you’d contact me.”

“Does my contact have anything to do with your condition, Ha Joyoon?”

“That’s true.”

“Can you work?”

To the doubtful question, Ha Joyoon nodded.

“I’m fine. It’s just a little swelling in my eyes, no problem.”

“Then let’s look at the pictures right away.”

“Yes…”

The cold response made Joyoon’s answer come out awkwardly. There was no need to explain his situation, and the man in front of him wasn’t the type to listen carefully to such reasons anyway. After briefly observing Shin Kwonjoo’s face, Joyoon turned his attention back to the screen. His gaze softened as he looked at the photos filling the laptop screen.

A barren land, dark clots of blood, people tangled together with expressions mixed with pain and fear, acrid dust, sharp stones, and guns and knives. That was all in the photos. Memories floated in the waves of turmoil. The photos, which captured the lost time, were desperate and hyper-realistic. Like a piece of someone’s heart that had burnt to ashes.

“Hey, Ha Joyoon. Are you sure you’re focusing right now? If you’re not going to work properly, quit.”

“Huh? No, I’m sorry.”

Ha Joyoon was jolted back to reality by the stern voice that cut through his bitterness.

“This is the southern Fezan region. Shall I move to the next memory?”

He hurriedly brought up the photos on the screen, but no response came from the other side. Nervously, Joyoon lowered his voice.

“Sunbae, …Would you like to see up to here?”

Shin Kwonjoo’s expression was full of dissatisfaction as he looked at him. He was not the type to show his emotions that much, but something was clearly off. After a brief hesitation, Ha Joyoon carefully made a suggestion.

“Um… Sunbae, if you’re not feeling well, shall we meet next time?”

He couldn’t continue because of the suddenly sharp gaze. Reminded of the abrupt notice from Shin Kwonjoo last night, Ha Joyoon reflected on his actions so far. Did he make a mistake? Was it because of his swollen eyes? But it didn’t seem like his swollen eyes would have bothered the man. Then, could it be because of his recent distraction? Feeling unfair, he thought it had only been a few minutes.

“Is there something you’re angry about with me?”

“No.”

Once again, Shin Kwonjoo coldly cut him off and rubbed his furrowed brows irritably. His sharply tailored blue shirt and the tight vest made him look even more urban. As Joyoon’s gaze followed the long fingers, he noticed the ring on the fourth finger.

Is he married?

Ha Joyoon tilted his head, recalling the past. When they worked together, Shin Kwonjoo was almost a workaholic. Apart from sleep, he spent most of his time at the company, making it difficult for those assisting him to get proper rest, including himself. Even then, he was popular among the female employees at the company due to his noticeable appearance. Of course, most of them gave up because of his personality.

Noticing that Ha Joyoon’s gaze was fixed on his ring, Shin Kwonjoo’s gaze slowly moved and then completely stopped. His eyes were so dark yet so vividly shining, unlike the lifeless eyes he had seen on the battlefield over the past few years. A faint warmth emerged.

“Is it your first time seeing a ring?”

A sneer escaped from his crooked lips. It was an aggressive tone. Why was he acting like this towards him? The provocative tone seemed to be getting worse. Ha Joyoon couldn’t hide his shame and asked directly.

“Do you dislike me?”

“What are you talking about suddenly?”

A hint of confusion crossed his face. It was obvious what the man was thinking, even without saying it. After a moment of hesitation, Ha Joyoon sighed softly and closed the laptop.

“…Your words feel aggressive… Honestly, I’m bewildered. It seems like you’re uncomfortable with me. I’m not that sensitive, but…”

“……”

As if to encourage him to continue, Shin Kwonjoo raised his eyebrows with his arms crossed.

“I will contact Mr. Beil directly regarding the photos. Anyway, I need to contact him regarding my reinstatement issue. And seeing the ring, I was just curious if you were married. It didn’t mean anything.”

Until he finished his slow but clear words, the man didn’t move. The cold air from the air conditioner made his nose cold. Realizing that the other had no intention of responding, Joyoon began to pack his things with unenthusiastic hands. At that moment, a calm voice came out.

“There’s nothing to be angry with Ha Joyoon.”

Getting angry is something that happens when there is some kind of relationship. With a cold smile, Shin Kwonjoo added. His sharp eyes narrowed.

“Today, an office staff got hurt, causing a gap for a few months, so it’s a bit of a headache.”

“Ah…”

“There were also some schedules that were missed just before, so I reacted somewhat sensitively. I’m sorry for being sensitive. My tone is usually like this, so please understand. Open your laptop again.”

Although his face didn’t look apologetic at all, it was an embarrassingly clean apology. Nodding awkwardly, Ha Joyoon also responded with an embarrassed look. Okay. With a short answer, silence pierced through the space between the two.

Click, click.

In the midst of the prevailing silence, the sound of clicking the mouse continued. Apart from his continuously cold reaction, his gaze on the photos was serious and sharp. As he stroked his chin with the other hand, Shin Kwonjoo spoke up after a long time.

“Did he die?”

In the photo he was pointing at, there was a man lying in a grotesque posture on the collapsed house, surrounded by his family crying. Recalling the urgent scene when the photo was taken, Ha Joyoon answered cautiously.

“He didn’t die. He was hit by a government army’s bullet, but we managed to save his life with first aid. However, shortly after, another bomb fell, and most of the White Helmets rescuing the wounded died.”

Click. Without any feedback, the screen moved to the next picture. An image of a house completely destroyed by a terrorist organization appeared, with an old man sitting dazedly in front of it. Around him lay the bodies of children. The man’s gaze stayed fixed for a while, then his brow furrowed slightly.

“Messy.”

“It’s in Aleppo. There was a civil war between the FSA and the government forces, and both the government and terrorist organizations bombarded the area one after another. There were many casualties. The houses in the background are almost unrecognizable. The situation was bad.”

“It looks that way. This method is often used by terrorist organizations.”

With still no reaction, the screen switched to the next picture. It showed a boy with a bomb strapped to him running towards people for a suicide bombing.

“Stop.”

“Yes.”

“The boy has a bomb strapped to him. Is he from the government forces?”

“No, he’s a UAF member. They trained boys between the ages of 10 and 13 as suicide bombers. I don’t know if they still do it, but since they’re kids, people tend to let their guard down, so the damage was greater.”

“…The suicide bomb squads composed of children have been growing recently. It’s ridiculous, but both sides are the same. The issue of boy suicide bombers in Aleppo has become a serious social problem recently. Move on.”

Shin Kwonjoo’s questions were mostly concise but sharp and decisive. As they silently reviewed the pictures, Ha Joyoon explained the situation each time a new scene appeared. There was just enough conversation and silence, and only the photos. The man’s smoothly outstretched hand casually clicked the mouse, nothing more. The tension that had been tightly drawn started to loosen slightly with the strange sense of comfort.

“The photos are detailed overall. The composition is rough, but accurate.”

“…Thank you.”

“It’s decent. There’s a lot that’s usable.”

“I like it.” The man smiled with satisfaction as he rubbed his sharp jawline. Ha Joyoon quietly watched him. It’s a strange feeling. Polite but cold. There’s no unnecessary interest, nor does he intrude beyond the lines he has drawn. That part is rather comforting. Despite his sharp personality, Shin Kwonjoo had an objective and refined perspective. Even in the more distant past, there was an unfounded belief that this person would objectively judge any situation.

The reason for the unrelated question was probably because of those old memories.

“Sunbae.”

“Speak.”

The man, who was clicking the mouse, answered absentmindedly.

“Can one form proper relationships while doing this kind of work?”

The black eyes that had been staring at the screen without blinking moved. The sharp gaze probed the intent of the question. The lobby of the company, where only the two of them remained after everyone else had left, was filled with silence.

“What are you suddenly talking about?”

After a long silence, instead of answering, Shin Kwonjoo asked a question. His low voice resonated appropriately heavily. There was a hint of annoyance at having his time of appreciation interrupted. Even though he knew that man was far from being a suitable counselor, Ha Joyoon’s desire to find an answer to the persistent pain in his heart over the past few days was greater.

“I have someone precious…”

Curiosity overlayed his monotonous gaze. For the first time, Ha Joyoon sensed his opponent was somewhat focusing on his words, and he honestly revealed his thoughts.

“They said they can no longer meet me.”

It was a statement that omitted all context.

“Are you seriously seeking relationship advice right now?”

“……”

“Were you in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

At the short answer and the gaze looking at him, Shin Kwonjoo laughed incredulously.

“Seems like they got tired of you.”

“…I don’t think that’s the case.”

“That’s your opinion. Is your partner around the same age? How old are you, Ha Joyoon?”

Believing that the man probably only remembered his name, he answered.

“I’m thirty-one.”

“Hmm.”

After pondering something for a moment, Shin Kwonjoo shrugged indifferently.

“That’s a marriageable age. Given that, your conditions aren’t very favorable for a woman of that age group. Not stable at all. Besides, isn’t it strange for a relationship to continue normally after meeting for the first time in five years?”

An objective evaluation, no more, no less. Shin Kwonjoo’s expression, which now looked more bored than curious, also supported that fact. His lips were tightly pressed together as his mingled emotions swirled. He didn’t even hear a simple “I’m glad you’re back.” It was just a hopeless and difficult relationship from anyone’s perspective.

Suddenly, he felt foolish for constantly seeking confirmation despite not hearing any hopeful words from anyone.

“Still… I like them a lot.”

“That’s your problem.”

Shin Kwonjoo concluded briefly and clearly.

“It ends the moment one person gets tired. Even the parent-child relationship ends in an instant when it turns cold, let alone between strangers who were only connected by emotions. Isn’t it ridiculous to expect more than that?”

“But if I can’t let go…”

“That’s selfish. Why are you complaining about a relationship from so long ago?”

With an indifferent face, he took out a cigarette and waved his hand dismissively.

“If you can’t forget, ask if you can stay as sex partners.”

“…I’m not interested in that.”

“In what? Sex?”

“Yes. I don’t like it.”

Even at the somewhat spiteful words, Shin Kwonjoo’s eyebrows subtly raised at the earnest response. Hmm. A short breath dissolved into the smoke. Looking at the neat face sitting quietly to the point of appearing lethargic, he candidly evaluated.

“Seems like you’re more of a prey than a predator.”

The man, who had dismissed it briefly, took a deep drag on his cigarette.

“Well, it’s none of my business. Let’s end the relationship talk here. That’s not what’s important.”

“…I’m sorry.”

Repeating the same action a few more times, he soon stubbed out the still largely intact cigarette without hesitation. Although a relaxed smile lingered around his sharp eyes, it didn’t seem like he was actually laughing. As a result, the attempt at counseling had utterly failed, causing nothing but trouble.

Feeling awkward, Ha Joyoon rubbed his cheeks a few times and then turned his gaze to the screen. Shin Kwonjoo, who had been silently observing him, soon began to flip through the photos again. In the calm flow, the topic naturally shifted, and the conversation resumed.

“Although some time has passed, there are still quite a few usable photos. Recently, the Assad regime has deepened its ties with terrorist organizations, and attacks on civilians have become more brutal. This temple here was completely destroyed last month. The situation in eastern Aleppo is dire, with all supply routes blocked. Anyway, these photos seem appropriate to release now. They are necessary.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Boyle will like them. Shall we look at other photos?”

“Sure.”

Admiring lightly, Shin Kwonjoo began to examine other folders. His eyes, which had been bored with the clumsy love stories, were now shining fiercely as he explored the moments captured. Time had passed, but the scenes conveyed by the photos were ongoing. The largest prison existing today. A country where the entire nation is a prison. A country swayed by the greed of its leaders and the calculations of powerful countries.

…And a country where someone has the responsibility and duty to stay and inform people about this tragedy until the end.

Thinking about the place he had left in haste, Ha Joyoon slowly bit his lip. At that moment, Taejung didn’t come to mind.

“Do you plan to return to the field?”

Pausing his hand gestures, he looked up. Shin Kwonjoo, still resting his chin on his hand, gazed at the screen with a nonchalant look. His sleek cheeks and sharp facial lines made him appear even more irritable.

“I’m not sure yet. My body hasn’t fully recovered, and I need more rehabilitation… There are personal matters I still need to resolve.”

After contemplating for a while, Ha Joyoon answered honestly. I see. The concise reply followed. For a moment, he felt grateful for the man’s indifference in not asking for reasons. The earlier conversations also suddenly felt embarrassing. Just as the silence began to ripple while he covered his heated neck, Ha Joyoon, a low voice echoed.

“How about working at the Korea office until your return is confirmed? You don’t have to stay all the time. You can go for treatment whenever you need.”

“Uh…”

It was an unexpected offer. Shin Kwonjoo slowly met his gaze after looking away from the monitor. A peculiar sensation pulled at the corners of his mouth, rendering him speechless.

“If you agree, I’ll inform the headquarters.”

As if reading his desire to ask for the reason, Shin Kwonjoo immediately added.

“I like your photos, Ha Joyoon.”

“…Okay.”

“They are photos devoid of any artistic flair. But they are accurate and factual. Nowadays, it’s hard to find photos without unnecessary embellishments.”

It was hard to tell if it was a compliment or an insult, but the usual intimidation had disappeared from Shin Kwonjoo’s expression.

“I think I can make good use of them, what do you think?”

Recalling the one year he had worked with the man, the memory was of days so tight and fast-paced that he couldn’t even describe them as enjoyable or comfortable. Even Ha Joyoon, who rarely expressed emotions, ended up grumbling at the end out of exhaustion.

But maybe… If he could work, he might escape, even briefly.

It wasn’t a bad proposal. What he needed now was to forget. Anything that would allow him to forget the painful emotions and reality, even briefly, was good. Despite the bold declaration not to give up, the reality presented to Ha Joyoon, who wasn’t used to psychological pain, made every moment feel like hell.

“It seems like a thankful offer to me.”

“That’s good. Actually, the employee who quit was a photojournalist.”

With a light laugh, Shin Kwonjoo took out another cigarette. Just as he habitually prepared to light it quickly, he paused for a moment. He looked straight into the sharp eyes.

“Do you mind if I smoke?”

It was a sudden question. As Ha Joyoon’s gaze moved to the stainless steel ashtray where the previous cigarette had been stubbed out, a short exclamation escaped the other’s lips. He didn’t seem to care at all. Suddenly, a memory surfaced that he had never seen the man smoke before.

“Did you use to smoke? I don’t remember seeing it.”

Drawing deeply on the filter, Shin Kwonjoo replied nonchalantly.

“What does it matter?”

Every word the man uttered was remarkably cold. Like an eagle, he elegantly twirled the platinum-decorated Zippo lighter.

“Show up starting tomorrow. We urgently need an extra person.”

Without considering the other’s intention, Shin Kwonjoo unilaterally issued a command, raising only the corners of his mouth in a faint smile. His eyes remained expressionless. He had always been a difficult person to approach, both then and now.

Several years ago, while covering the civil war in Iraq, I once crossed the capital, Baghdad. Driving an old jeep across the desert, I had to constantly battle the scorching sun and rough sand. After driving all day, at night, I would rest wherever I could, and if there was no place to rest, I would often sleep by the roadside. However, lying down with an old backpack as my pillow, looking up at the sky, it felt like the white stars were pouring down as if the universe had shattered. At that moment, it seemed like the night sky would embrace all my ugly greed and selfishness—a strange experience.