Chapter-3
Annoying woman.
Troublesome woman.
Strangely funny woman.
Those were the three conclusions Liam O’Connor had reached about Jin Yi-hyun.
No matter how casual a workplace was, there were lines that needed to be respected—an awareness of what belonged in public and what didn’t. That woman seemed completely oblivious to such things.
“…Isn’t this sexual harassment?”
Liam frowned as he recalled the events from that morning.
The reason he’d taken a job at this kindergarten was simple. He was exhausted from his previous position and wanted a break—an escape into a field completely unrelated to his old life. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere isolated. When he’d managed to find a new job so quickly, he’d thought things were finally going smoothly.
Then Jin Yi-hyun happened.
A woman so deeply absorbed in herself that she blushed at the slightest thing.
Up until their first real interaction, Liam had assumed it was all in his head. He’d met plenty of Koreans who were uncomfortable with English before. He understood that. That was why he mostly used messaging apps for her convenience—if anything, he’d been overly considerate.
Liam considered himself a rational, level-headed member of society. Which meant he knew better than to let personal emotions interfere with his work.
Yet Jin Yi-hyun was steadily undermining that principle.
Sitting down in the teachers’ office, Liam quietly raised one hand and began counting her offenses on his fingers.
First: she made her feelings far too obvious.
She blushed. She stuttered. She even stuttered when he merely stood a little closer. That kind of behavior wouldn’t be tolerated in any professional environment.
Second: the way she looked at him.
As if she desperately wanted him to notice. To understand.
Just like that morning—crush, crush, crush. The phone screaming the word like a siren, drawing attention from half the street. And only after everything spiraled out of control did she finally insist it was all a misunderstanding.
And third—
She had assaulted him.
Properly.
Liam glanced downward and muttered another curse under his breath. He wasn’t inexperienced enough to misunderstand what had happened. The memory of her elbow pressing down—repeatedly, as if she were confirming something—refused to leave his mind.
Leaning back in his chair, he reached a firm conclusion.
She’s completely out of her mind.
Jin Yi-hyun was clearly delusional—blinded by loneliness and unrequited affection, charging forward like a moth drawn to flame.
And the misunderstanding was only growing worse.
Ah. I really hate this.
Lee Hyun muttered under his breath.
When she finally arrived at work, she was immediately cornered by one of the guardians—a child’s uncle. An older bachelor living with his sister, he handled drop-off and pick-up simply because he was always home.
Every time he came, he clung to Lee Hyun with thinly veiled flirtation.
Normally, the other teachers would intervene with convenient excuses. But today, the timing was terrible. Everyone was busy, and they could only watch with helpless expressions.
“Teacher, you look pretty today too.”
The man, who looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, scratched his head shyly and smiled. What made it worse was that Lee Hyun’s cheeks immediately turned red at the sound of a man’s voice—a reaction that could easily be misunderstood.
Lowering her head in a hurry, Lee Hyun quickly greeted the child.
“Hojin, take care. See you tomorrow.”
She turned to leave—
And felt her wrist grabbed.
A chill ran straight up her spine. The grip was sticky, deliberate. With a hopeful smile, the man spoke casually.
“Teacher.”
“…Yes?”
“Why do your cheeks turn red every time you see me?”
“Ah…”
Lee Hyun tried to pull her hand free, but the man tightened his grip, continuing as if encouraged.
“If you feel the same way, how about meeting this weekend?”
Tears welled in Lee Hyun’s eyes.
It was exhausting. Truly exhausting. First Liam’s misunderstanding in the morning, now this again in the afternoon. Why did this keep happening?
The man’s hand refused to let go. No matter how much Lee Hyun struggled, he wouldn’t release her.
“Teacher, it’s fine! Women can express their feelings first these days!”
Just as tears began spilling from the corners of her eyes, her wrist was suddenly lifted into the air.
Through her blurred vision, Lee Hyun saw a broad, solid back standing between them.
She looked down at her wrist.
Even though it had only been for a moment, a red, circular handprint was clearly visible.
Lee Hyun gasped and collapsed into a nearby chair. A sharp ringing echoed in her ears. A fellow teacher rushed over, supporting her gently and guiding her inside.
“Are you okay?”
“I—I…”
“Liam couldn’t stand it anymore and stepped in. He said it was fine—he’d explain everything himself.”
As Lee Hyun staggered forward, something occurred to her.
“Liam doesn’t speak Korean… how is he going to explain it?”
The teacher shrugged.
“Even if you can’t understand the language, nonverbal warnings work just fine. Have you seen him? I’d be scared too.”
Lee Hyun glanced back.
She saw Liam looking down at the man, saying something calmly. The man’s posture slowly collapsed, his shoulders hunching as he nodded repeatedly—then hurried out of the kindergarten with the child in tow.
…Yeah.
Anyone would be terrified being threatened by someone like that in a language they couldn’t understand.
Once the man was gone, Liam approached Lee Hyun carefully.
She sat alone, drinking cold water to calm her breathing. When she noticed his shoes stop in front of her, her body stiffened. She lowered her gaze, fiddling with the paper cup in her hands.
Then, unlike before, a gentle voice reached her.
“Are you okay?”
It was nothing like the cold tone from that morning.
Lee Hyun nodded silently. Liam let out a quiet sigh, then crouched down so they were at eye level.
He studied her still-flushed cheeks for a moment before speaking softly, careful not to frighten her.
“I’ll inform the principal. From now on, he won’t be allowed to come during drop-off or pick-up. If he shows up again, you won’t have to leave the building during those times.”
Lee Hyun’s lips trembled.
The kindness, layered one word after another, caused something heavy to swell in her chest. Being comforted by someone who had never been gentle with her before made it hurt even more.
Rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, Lee Hyun nodded repeatedly and whispered her thanks.
Liam smiled faintly.
But the warmth vanished just as quickly.
Standing up, he headed toward the director’s office and added,
“Just remember. This is a professional courtesy. Not a personal one.”
That voice again.
The clear line.
The warning not to misunderstand.
Lee Hyun’s grip tightened unconsciously. The fragile paper cup crumpled in her hand, water dripping down her skin.
She jumped to her feet and shouted after him.
“Hey—no! I said no! How many times do I have to tell you?!”
But it was too late.
The door to the director’s office closed.
The crushed paper cup slipped from her hand as her heart thudded hollowly in her chest.
Now she knew for certain.
Liam O’Connor was terminally afflicted with an incurable case of axe disease—the kind that made him oblivious to everything but his own assumptions.
“Oh my… that happened?”
The middle-aged principal covered his mouth in shock as Liam explained. He’d come with another teacher, so the incident itself was conveyed without issue.
The problem was everything else.
“But our kindergarten is very friendly, you know?”
The director leaned forward slightly, already shifting the blame.
“Teacher Lee Hyun is… quite sensitive. I’ve always thought so. Maybe we should give her some understanding.”
“….”
“And that guardian is helping a working mother. It’s difficult for her to manage transportation without him. If we say something too strongly, the child might be transferred. So let’s simply make sure Teacher Lee Hyun isn’t involved in drop-off and pick-up anymore.”
It was a disappointing resolution.
The accompanying teacher tried to argue—but stopped. Everyone knew the principal wasn’t someone who valued logic.
Then, as if suddenly curious, the principal asked Liam,
“What did you say to him? You didn’t say anything too harsh, did you?”
“Director, Liam doesn’t speak Korean,” the teacher quickly added. “He probably just restrained him appropriately.”
Liam wore a blank, innocent expression.
But inside, he replayed the memory—the man trembling in front of him, fear written all over his face. He nearly laughed.
What he’d said was simple.
If I catch you flirting with another woman here, I’ll beat you until you can’t stand.
Of course—
Not in English.
But in fluent, crisp Korean.
