A child who looks like me

The first day at a new job was overwhelming enough, but Jung-oh was unsettled for a different reason.

By evening, though, she’d managed to get a little more comfortable with her team, easing some of her work-related tension.

“When sending work files, just drop them into the shared company folder. It’s easy since you can just drag them over without going through annoying procedures.”

The youngest team member, Song Ki-hoon, was kindly explaining the company’s system to her.

“In my last job, we used the cloud, but here we have a dedicated folder system. I’m sure security is a concern.”

“There’s a record when files are uploaded or downloaded. There hasn’t been a security issue, but if a review takes too long, it’s a good idea to put a password on it.”

“Thanks. I learned a lot from you today, Ki-hoon.”

“Well, I’ve only been here three months, so that’s all I know for now,” Ki-hoon said, smiling sheepishly. It was a pleasant smile, the kind you only see on people who live with a bright and upright outlook.

It was nearing the end of the workday. Since the team leader had promised not to make her work overtime on her first day, she’d likely get to leave on time.

She’d think about it more at home—whether she’d stay at this job or give it up.

Just then, team leader Sung Mi-ran, who had briefly stepped out, returned with a thunderbolt of news.

“Jung-oh, Director Jung Jiheon wants to see you for a bit.”

“…Pardon?”

Jung-oh froze at Mi-ran’s announcement.

“Go ahead to the director’s office.”

“…”

“No, I’ll come with you.”

Seeing Jung-oh’s face turn pale in an instant, Mi-ran, who had been about to sit down, gestured for her to come along. She figured Jung-oh was overly nervous.

Jung-oh had no choice but to follow Mi-ran.

Her heart began to pound wildly again.

Why on earth…?

He pretended not to recognize me earlier, and now he suddenly wants to? Why? Is he going to tell me to quit? Does he want me to step aside so I don’t interfere in his life?

With each step, her mind filled with endless questions.

It felt like he was scheming to quietly make her quit.

But that would be a problem because it seemed like the team leader was planning to accompany her.

“Team Leader, it’s okay. I can go by myself.”

A part of her wanted to cling to Mi-ran, hoping to throw Jiheon off balance and prevent him from kicking her out of the company, but she spoke calmly.

She was curious about what Jiheon would say once they were alone. She felt a twinge of fear, yet knew that if she stayed at this company, she’d eventually have to face him.

“No, I’ll come with you,” Mi-ran replied with a firm look.

“Be careful. He didn’t look in a good mood.”

“What?”

“Director Jung Jiheon. He’s in a completely foul mood.”

Mi-ran let out a rough sigh and gritted her teeth, muttering to herself.

“I just said he was handsome. How is that an insult?”

“Pardon?”

“It was just a compliment.”

“…”

“It’s not like I was hitting on him or anything. I was just trying to get on his good side, and he got all offended. Is that really something to be criticized for?”

Crazy Jung Jiheon

Miran mumbled quietly, “He’s so much younger…”

Jung-oh couldn’t bring herself to ask Miran about what happened in the director’s office. The only thing on her mind was Miran’s mention that Jung Jiheon seemed to be in a bad mood.

She wanted to just run away.

Should I just turn around, pack up, and go home?

Maybe I should go back to my old job and beg them to take me back?

Weighed down by countless thoughts, Jung-oh finally reached the director’s office.

Knock knock.

“Yes.”

Jiheon’s voice came from inside in response to Miran’s knock.

Jung-oh’s stomach churned.

The door opened indifferently.

Once again, she found herself facing him.

Even after calling someone in, his gaze was chillingly indifferent.

Jung Jiheon looked much the same as he had a few hours earlier.

“Director, I brought Deputy Manager Lee Jung-oh,” Miran introduced her.

Jiheon repeated her name as if to confirm it.

“Deputy Manager Lee Jung-oh.”

Hearing him say her name felt foreign and cold.

It was like standing in a silent, sunless winter at the farthest point on earth.

When you used to say my name, I loved the warmth in your voice so much that it made me love my own name.

But that was seven years ago, a distant memory.

“Yes.”

Jung-oh managed to respond, her voice barely audible.

But the question that followed took her by surprise.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Pardon?”

“You looked unwell when I passed by earlier.”

Jung-oh stared at him with wide eyes, unable to understand his intention.

It seemed bringing Miran along had been a mistake. If she’d come alone, she might have gotten to the bottom of his true intentions. Now, with Miran here, he was asking absurd questions to maintain a facade.

Jung-oh quickly grasped the hidden meaning in his question and was about to answer, but Jiheon spoke first.

“You left Sang-ah Planning to join Max Planning.”

“…”

“You weren’t disappointed it wasn’t the company you’d originally applied to, I hope. Max Planning should be superior in every way.”

His tone was impeccably courteous, yet somehow it felt arrogant, as if he were mocking her.

It was as if he was saying, You’re lucky to be here.

It felt like his unspoken words were ringing in her ears.

“Will you be able to handle the work?”

“…Yes.”

“As a copywriter, I expected a more thoughtful answer.”

It was a sarcastic comment, implying all she could say was “yes.”

It seemed her short response had struck a nerve.

Jung-oh stared at him in disbelief.

She felt like he was pressing down on her with his words.

It was as if he was trying to make her feel just how insignificant she was.

What do you expect me to say here, huh?

Do you want me to tell you myself that I’m fine with everything?

Do you want me to promise that I’ll focus solely on my work and ignore the past? Is that what you want?

Miran, who had been nervously watching their strange tension, gently took hold of Jung-oh’s arm.

It was her way of saying they should quickly wrap up and leave.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Jung-oh spoke again.

“It will be different when I’m working. I’ll do my best.”

“Do so. I’ll be watching.”

Something about his words, that he’d be “watching,” sent a shiver down her spine.

Was he saying he’d watch her work or her every move?

“Deputy Lee will be involved in this competitive PT project, as you’re aware. I’ll encourage her to achieve good results,” Miran interjected, trying to ease the awkward situation.

“Yes, I’ll look forward to it,” Jiheon replied, showing no interest in prolonging the conversation.

Outside the office, after leaving with Miran, Jung-oh heaved a deep sigh internally.

He was no longer the Jung Jiheon she once knew.

Or perhaps the Jung Jiheon I knew back then was the fake.

She felt miserable.

She thought the wounds from back then had healed, but the old despair was coming back to life vividly.

***

After Jung-oh and Miran left, Jiheon fell into thought. His scalp tingled. His mood still hadn’t improved.

Lee Jung-oh, the copywriter.

Even though she politely responded with a “yes,” her gaze had been defiant, yet it still had that trembling, dragonfly-wing quality.

It felt as if she didn’t want to talk to him or even face him.

Did she think of him as some sort of zombie or vampire? Perhaps even something like a contagious disease?

Surely there are plenty of people who find me difficult to deal with.

Even though it wasn’t hard to understand, he couldn’t shake his lingering thoughts.

Knock knock.

When Jiheon sat back down in silence, he heard another knock. He gave a short reply, and the door clicked open.

“Director?”

The person poking his head in was Deputy Manager Park Seung-gyu from the HR department.

High school and college friend, former senior in the military—Park Seung-gyu.

Jiheon, who had been lost in thought with a hardened expression, relaxed a little.

He and Seung-gyu had never been in the same class after their first year of high school. They’d only heard through the grapevine that they went to the same college, so they hadn’t been close.

The two became closer when Jiheon was assigned to the squad Seung-gyu was serving in. Seung-gyu looked after the quiet Jiheon well, and Jiheon found it easier to be around him than others.

Of course, Jiheon doesn’t remember his time in the military now.

Even with his three-year memory gap, Jiheon and Seung-gyu remained close. Seung-gyu, who was easygoing and open-minded, was someone Jiheon greatly needed.

Jiheon addressed Seung-gyu, who had entered the office.

“It’s just the two of us. Speak comfortably.”

It had been exactly a week since Jiheon was assigned to Max Planning. Even though they were in the same group, they’d never crossed paths since they were in different companies. But now, they would be seeing each other every day.

With a mix of relief and a touch of burden, Seung-gyu let his true feelings slip.

“I’m not used to it yet. You feel distant. Director.”

“Want me to move your desk to the annex so you can adapt faster?”

“Are you serious?”

When Seung-gyu gasped, Jiheon chuckled.

Seung-gyu raised his voice.

“Oh, hey! You’re giving me goosebumps. Don’t say silly things. When you say it, everything sounds serious.”

“Are you afraid of what I say?”

“Yes! Even asking like that is scary.”

“Scary, huh…”

Jiheon looked deeply reflective, repeating the word as if to himself, and his expression seemed unusually intense. Watching him closely, Seung-gyu asked,

“What happened? Is something wrong?”

After a pause, Jiheon spoke.

“A new employee joined us. Someone who’d first joined Sang-ah Planning.”

“Yeah, I know. A female deputy manager. She’s a copywriter, right? What about her?”

“She turned pale when she saw me.”

“Isn’t that normal? You’re always making people pale.”

Seung-gyu shot back immediately, only to pause after a moment.

So his eyes were drawn to her face…

That was rare. For Jung Jiheon.

“…Is she pretty?” Seung-gyu squinted his eyes and asked with a mischievous grin.

Jiheon, not wanting to indulge his friend’s teasing, turned away and began organizing his desk.

Seung-gyu changed the topic.

“Ready to head out?”

“Yeah.”

“Got any plans for dinner? If not, want to come over to my place?”

“Why would I go there?”

“Your saintly mother told me to invite you over. She wants to show you what a happy family looks like so you’ll hurry up and get married…”

“Why bother listening to that seriously? Just pretend to pay attention.”

Jiheon cut him off, making it clear he didn’t want to hear any more. Seung-gyu stayed silent, unable to continue.

A life where you only had to pretend.

A life where you found a compromise at the right point, never giving it your all.

A life where all you had to do was keep your place quietly.

That was Jiheon’s past, present, and future.

Even with a three-year gap in his memory, it wasn’t a life he felt sorry for.

Such a dull life.

.*. *. *. *. *. *.

Having left work early, Jiheon skipped dinner and swallowed down some medicine.

Lying stretched out on the sofa, Jiheon stared blankly at the white pill bottle he had placed on the table. Once again, the image of that woman’s pale face surfaced in his mind.

“She was called Lee Jeong-oh, wasn’t she? That woman.”

It was a strange thing.

“She’s not even my type, so why…?”

Somewhere along the line, Jiheon had begun to be drawn to women with long hair. He would instinctively turn his head whenever he saw a woman with long, straight hair; that’s how Jiheon came to understand his own preference.

But why?

Why was he so conscious of a woman who didn’t have long hair?

“Is it because of her name?”

Jiheon reconsidered.

Maybe that was it.

He had a peculiar fixation with the time 12:00 noon.

Whenever he glanced at the clock and saw “12:00,” that precise, even number, his chest would tighten for some inexplicable reason.

12:00 noon. Jeong-oh.

That was her name.

“Lee Jeong-oh. Lee Jeong-oh…”

The sound of her name lingered on his tongue. It was a warm name, like sunlight streaming in at noon, yet it seemed both fitting and unfitting for her.

Had he ever thought about a woman he’d only briefly met this intensely…?

By the time he finally lowered his voice as if letting go of the name he’d been repeating obsessively, he heard a beeping sound.

Beep, beep, beep, beep.

Someone was entering the passcode at his front door.

Who could it be? Who knew his door code?

Before he could even try to figure it out, the door opened.

And the person who appeared was none other than that woman.

Lee Jeong-oh.

Startled, Jiheon sat up.

“How did you…?”

He was so taken aback that his voice faltered.

She approached him, her face pale as if frightened, her wide eyes just as they had been when she left his office—her neat attire trembling slightly.

“What are you doing here?”

How did she know the passcode? Why was she here? What was she doing?

This was a trespass. He should call the police, but—

Before Jiheon could get up from the sofa, she grabbed his arm first.

She was so delicate that he could have easily restrained her with one hand, yet, oddly enough, he couldn’t move.

In fact, as she held onto him, he began to feel nervous.

He didn’t understand what was happening to his body.

Her hand that held his arm slid up slowly. Despite her innocent face, her touch was anything but.

It was an oddly soft touch, as if out of place. The way her hand caressed his neck was as warm as noon sunlight.

Her breath, so close, felt even warmer, making him imagine her body heat.

He had no idea why she was doing this, but he didn’t want to stop her.

Or perhaps he had already anticipated what would come next.

She tilted her head, and as if on cue, Jiheon’s lips parted.

Her breath crossed into him with a gulp. Even though he swallowed her breath, it felt as if he’d given up a part of himself.

All his senses became vividly attuned to her.

But the moment didn’t last long. She quickly pulled back.

Jiheon frowned.

The lips that had barely touched his, only to leave behind warmth and then retreat, felt frustratingly distant.

Despite having done something so bold, her expression remained the same. That innocent face sparked an odd anger in him.

Eyes trembling like dragonfly wings, as if she might cry at any moment. Quivering as if she would flutter away.

Desire was more fearsome and weightier than reason.

He had to hold onto her. He had to have her.

He couldn’t let her go.

This time, he grabbed her as she turned to leave, pulling her down onto the sofa where he’d been lying.

Thud!

As Jiheon fell from the sofa, he opened his eyes.

His back arched up, then fell back with a thud.

Gasp, gasp.

His shoulder throbbed from the impact, but the pain in his head was worse, leaving him gasping for breath.

Gasping heavily… still struggling to calm his breathing and heart rate.

Gasp, gasp…

Where did she go?

Just moments ago, she’d been right in front of him, but it felt as if the void had swallowed her.

He could still feel her shallow breaths inside him.

…Jung Jiheon, you’re out of your mind.

It was a disturbingly vivid dream.

“Why on earth…?”