Chapter : 29
Yes, perhaps this was righteous anger.
The only person in the village she believed would never doubt her was doubting her. Was it her own fault for expecting leniency toward outsiders right after the war?
Hongseol slowly opened her mouth.
“Why… don’t you think I’m human too? So… did you come to check if I’m human? Or! Were you planning to kill me?”
Tears welled up in Hongseol’s eyes as if in spite of herself. She was skilled at hiding her emotions, which meant it was obvious she was equally skilled at expressing them freely.
“Don’t be fooled by those tears.”
Sergeant Baek shook his head twice, as if to steady his heart. He looked into Hongseol’s eyes. He couldn’t hide the strange feeling of being captivated.
“If you kill me… do you think the children will come back to life?”
The sound of rain grew heavier. Hongseol’s long hair began to get soaked, and her white cotton clothes absorbed the rain, clinging to her skin.
The apricot-colored skin pressed against the white fabric didn’t match the deathly atmosphere of the village at all. Yet, he couldn’t look away.
Ah, he thought, I’ve been captivated. By Hongseol.
Sergeant Baek slowly closed his eyes. And Hongseol stepped closer. Amid the sound of rain soaking the ground, her footsteps were silent.
When he opened his eyes, Hongseol’s face was right in front of him. Her dark eyes reflected her deep emotions completely.
“My family is dead. That little flame was extinguished right in front of me! Ha. No one! No one cared about that death, and only now do I become necessary?”
Her words, suppressed but spilling out, carried all of her loneliness and sorrow. Baek unconsciously lifted a strand of hair stuck to her cheek.
…Ah, I really have been captivated.
“Okay… cut!”
With the director’s cut, Haein sank to the ground. She sat on the spot, staring blankly at the set, as if she had used every ounce of her strength.
Hyuk approached Haein. At the same time, Dojun and Gayoung, who had been watching from a distance, came over.
“Haein, you really worked hard. Really.”
Haein gave a faint smile too small to see, reassuring them silently that she was fine.
“Get up. The floor is wet, you might catch a cold. Let’s go to the waiting room. Gayoung, you have Haein’s change of clothes ready, right?”
“Ah, yes! I prepared them. Haein, let’s go in.”
Hyuk ignored Dojun, who was holding a large blanket, and gently took Haein’s shoulder. Sitting any longer on the wet floor, she might actually catch a cold. She was so fragile as it was.
“Hyung!! Ha, seriously. You need to change quickly and move. No, there’s no time to change! Do you know that the other actors have been on standby for three hours waiting for you to finish shooting?”
Manager Kyungtae blocked Hyuk’s way. The three-hour delay meant the tight schedule was in jeopardy.
Kyungtae looked at Haein as if asking for help. Having experienced being the manager who takes all the blame, she knew exactly what those desperate eyes meant.
“I’m fine, so go ahead. Really, thank you today. Sorry for taking up your time.”
Haein waved her hand with a genuine expression of being okay. Kyungtae quickly looked at Hyuk.
“She says she’s fine. If you don’t go now, I’ll be the one in trouble, hyung!”
“Your next schedule looks tight, so let’s go, Mr. Hyuk. I’ll help Haein. Ah, and thank you for helping with today’s shoot.”
Hyuk almost retorted, “Why are you thanking me?” but Kyungtae guided him out of the set. Dojun watched the retreating Hyuk silently before turning his attention to Haein.
“You got it in one take, and the director didn’t say anything, so I guess we don’t need to monitor it. More importantly, your body temperature dropped too much.”
Normally, actors monitor their own shots. She had checked thoroughly in previous shoots, but she didn’t have the energy now.
Haein stumbled but didn’t resist Dojun’s supportive hand. The warmth and kindness coming from that hand were too comforting to push away.
For some reason, it felt like a burden that had weighed on her heart for a long time had been lifted today.
“Here, hot chocolate again.”
After a quick shower in the makeshift restroom and changing into the dry clothes Gayoung had prepared, the chill that had gripped her body seemed to ease a little. Only then did Haein notice Dojun, who had been taking care of her.
Why does this man linger around me so much?
Stopping her hair-drying, she found Dojun gently placing the mug on her hand. The gesture felt unfamiliar.
“That’s unexpected.”
“Excuse me?”
“After the shoot, I thought you’d collapse and cry your heart out.”
“…Ah.”
Haein sat silently on the sofa. Dojun shifted to make space for her, and she hesitated, unsure where to start.
After a brief silence, Haein spoke.
“I used to be very expressive. I cried a lot, laughed a lot, joked a lot, and thought a lot.”
But all of that disappeared. Five years ago.
She swallowed her words with hot chocolate, leaving the backstory unsaid.
She had experienced emotional highs and lows and had been ambitious for her dreams. That version of herself had vanished like bubbles. Would he understand that?
“I don’t cry. Today, I think I finally understood with my heart what I had already understood with my head. And then… I thought, maybe it’s okay to take a step forward. Even in a world without Haejin, taking one more step won’t feel so guilty.”
Dojun quietly watched Haein as she held the white mug with both hands and spoke calmly. He didn’t know what to say.
“Aren’t you busy with work, CEO?”
Of course she was. Today alone, she had postponed two meetings and skipped a strategy meeting just to come here.
“Not busy. There’s less work than I expected.”
“That’s impossible. Every day there were incidents when CEO Ong was here.”
“Seems like things stabilized a lot after I came. Luckily. I’m that competent.”
“…Haha. You leave me no argument saying that yourself.”
Dojun stared at Haein as she laughed softly. His gaze trembled slightly as he looked at her small face.
“Do I have something on my face?”
Dojun silently moved closer, then unconsciously brushed Haein’s cheek with a finger.
“You’re… crying.”
A crystal-like tear rolled down from one of Haein’s eyes. She hadn’t even realized she was crying, panicking as she shook her head.
“Why am I being so pathetic? I’m really… ha, sob. I’ll never see Haejin again. Sob… no, I’m really fine. It even feels relieving. Ha, why… am I crazy?”
Dojun’s lips stopped her sobs.
His large hand wrapped around her fragile waist, and his soft lips pressed slowly against hers. It felt as if he was determined to take all her tears.
“…Ha.”
When he pulled back briefly, Dojun locked eyes with Haein. Their gaze met in the air, and Haein’s small shoulders trembled slightly. Her red lips quivered as if trying to say something.
