Chapter 8. Getting to Know On Haru (4)
Moon Hyuk, the owner who ran both a pet hotel and an animal rescue center in the same building, greeted her with a nod. Judging by the waterproof apron and rubber boots he was wearing, he had been washing rescued dogs.
“Did you rescue more today?”
“Yes, seven this time.”
“That’s truly admirable. It’s such difficult work.”
“It’s all thanks to the volunteers. We had a new one today with a real knack for it, so things went smoothly. Lee Jinrok—could you come out for a moment?”
Moon Hyuk called for a man around Haru’s age. A tall figure emerged from beyond the archway. He, too, wore a waterproof apron and boots. He shook out his damp hair, likely soaked while bathing the dogs.
“Looks like River got scared again.”
“He doesn’t seem to like water.”
“At this rate, you’ll end up taking a bath yourself, Mr. Lee.”
Moon Hyuk glanced at Jinrok’s soaked shirt with concern before abruptly switching to praise.
“Haru, he’s a painter living on the third floor. He said he wanted to help out, so I hired him. You see that painting over there—the one with all the dogs? That’s his work. I told him I wanted just one piece that fit the place, and he painted it for us.”
“You’re very talented.”
Even someone unfamiliar with art could immediately tell—it was bold, dynamic, and vividly dimensional in both color and atmosphere.
“And this is On Haru, one of our sponsors. She also helps out from time to time. She’s like sunshine—she brightens wherever she goes.”
“That’s a bit much.”
Haru stiffened at the excessive praise, and Moon Hyuk let out a quiet chuckle. Hidden in that smile was an unspoken encouragement for the two to get along. He meant no harm, but it was enough to make both Haru and Jinrok uncomfortable.
“Hello, I’m Lee Jinrok.”
Jinrok brushed aside the hair covering his eyes. Though clearly uncomfortable thanks to Moon Hyuk, he spoke kindly, as if not wanting to freeze the atmosphere.
“Hello, I’m On Haru.”
Jinrok awkwardly pushed up his horn-rimmed glasses and smiled. He had the classic “nerdy” look, seemingly shy about meeting a woman’s gaze. After the brief introduction, he excused himself.
“He’s a bit shy… Since you’re the same age, just exchange greetings when you see each other.”
“I’ll get going now.”
Haru retrieved a harness from her personal locker, lifted Kkamang into her arms, and put it on him before paying the hotel fee.
“Thank you for your hard work. See you again.”
She gave a bright farewell and set Kkamang down. On her way home, she planned to stop by the park for a walk and pick up a few groceries.
“Ms. On Haru!”
Jinrok called out to her. When she turned around, he held out an envelope containing Polaroid photos.
“The boss asked me to give you these. They were taken while he was staying here.”
“Thank you.”
“Take care on your way.”
Jinrok nodded politely to Haru and waved at Kkamang. As if fond of him, Kkamang wagged his tail and spun in place.
“Yeah, I just saw the photos. Kkamang looks great. Is he happy to be home?”
“He’s been rolling around on your bed and jumping on the sofa like crazy.”
“He must be excited.”
“I fed him earlier, so he’ll probably fall asleep soon.”
“And you?”
“I’m about to eat.”
Haru took out a container of kimchi stew from the fridge. She had made a large batch a few days ago and reheated it repeatedly, leaving the kimchi overly soft—today, she needed to finish it.
“What are you having it with?”
“I’m just reheating the kimchi stew.”
“If you don’t feel like eating it, throw it away. Don’t force yourself just because it’d be a waste.”
“Okay, I will.”
She answered warmly so On Daesik wouldn’t worry, and soon heard him yawn. He must have been exhausted from all the medical tests.
“I’ll hang up now. You should rest too, Dad.”
“Eat well and lock the doors.”
“Okay. See you tomorrow.”
After ending the call, Haru poured the stew into a bowl. She placed it beside intentionally cooled rice, then set out roasted seaweed brushed with perilla oil, stir-fried shishito peppers, and young radish kimchi. Without her adoptive father, the table felt empty.
While letting the stew cool, she wrapped rice in the roasted seaweed. Homemade, it was crispier and more fragrant, lightly seasoned—good enough even as a snack. By the time she placed some on her rice, the stew had cooled to the perfect temperature.
“Delicious.”
Kimchi stew was always good, even every day. Perhaps because she was relaxed, she ate heartily, gulping it down. She sipped the broth, added kimchi and pork onto her rice, and took big bites. As she chewed, she added seaweed, and before she knew it, her eyes curved into crescents as she hummed.
“Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.”
Her humming grew louder. Halfway through her meal, she wondered what she was doing—but unless she did this, she couldn’t drive Lee Shinrok out of her mind. Ever since she took the stew from the fridge, his annoyingly bright smile had lingered before her eyes.
Even while playing with Kkamang and vacuuming, his words circled her mind as if perched atop her head.
“Just eat. It’s nothing special.”
Haru scolded herself—why was she overthinking something as simple as kimchi stew? Finishing her meal quickly, she threw open the windows to air out the house. By the time she finished washing the dishes, it was 7 p.m.
Staying home made her feel haunted by Shinrok’s ghost, so she stepped outside for a walk. Kkamang, fast asleep on his back, didn’t even come to see her off.
As she put in her earphones and tapped her phone, a call from an unfamiliar number appeared. Seoul Police Station. Beneath it, a small name was displayed. When she answered, a rough voice spoke.
“This is Detective Kim Wonwoon from the Violent Crimes Unit at Seoul Police Station. I’m contacting you regarding the fraud case involving Lee Cheolgon and Kim Youngsook.”
“Ah, yes. Hello.”
“We need your victim statement. Can you come in tomorrow morning?”
“What time?”
“Around 11.”
“That should be fine.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Detective Kim ended the call as soon as he finished. Perhaps because he was from the violent crimes unit, he was curt and businesslike. It felt as though he was silently urging her to answer only what was asked—nothing more.
“It feels like things are getting resolved one by one.”
On Daesik’s surgery, and the matters involving Lee Cheolgon and Kim Youngsook.
It would be nice if she could recover the lost money, but that seemed unlikely.
“It was meant for the surgery anyway…”
Just as she tried to suppress the bitterness as a form of self-protection, a message notification chimed.
This is Lee Shinrok. Are you available for a call?
The thought of him, which she had just managed to shake off thanks to Detective Kim, now felt as if he were standing right in front of her. Unable to avoid him, she pressed call instead of replying.
“Hello, Director Lee Shinrok.”
“I’d like to see you.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“What is this about…?”
Haru awkwardly rubbed the stiff back of her neck.
“Don’t go to the police station tomorrow. Let a lawyer handle it—I’ll introduce you to one.”
“That’s not necessary.”
She refused, feeling burdened and apologetic for always receiving help.
“I’ll handle it myself.”
“You shouldn’t be going in and out of police stations before a major surgery.”
He was warning her as if it might bring bad luck. But tonight, she just wanted to rest.
“What about tomorrow morning instead?”
“Why not now?”
“Seeing someone twice in one day is exhausting.”
He wasn’t the type to understand hints, so she answered honestly. Silence followed. It was so quiet she even checked her screen, thinking the call had dropped.
“Hello?”
“Let’s meet tomorrow. And dream about me.”
This is a curse.
This time, it was Haru who fell silent. Shinrok let out a faint chuckle, clearly pleased that his intention had landed.
“Rest well.”
He ended the call after saying only what he wanted.
Lee Shinrok, you’ve really become pathetic.
After hanging up, Shinrok opened Haru’s photo in his album. It was a picture he could have deleted by now, yet he kept looking at it repeatedly. Was it obsession born from clinging to her for three years? Or frustration at her stubborn refusal to return as Cha Hyowon? He wanted to understand what was making him hesitate.
“What are you doing over there?”
Leaning against the terrace railing, Shinrok stared at his phone until Ki-young—one of the members of their chaebol heirs’ gathering—approached, cigarette in hand.
“The girls are making a fuss looking for you. Go show your face.”
“Don’t treat me like a mascot.”
“Who would dare treat Lee Shinrok like that? I just don’t want to hear them whining about when you’ll show up.”
Right? They should be whining because they want to see me.
What, I’m tacky?
“If her eyes aren’t broken, she must be picking a fight.”
Muttering to himself, Shinrok took the cigarette Ki-young offered and placed it between his dry lips. As he lit it and exhaled smoke, a woman who had been searching for him ran over, brimming with charm.
“Hello, Director! It’s been sooo long!”
Shinrok slipped his phone into his jacket pocket and pushed her forehead away with the hand holding the cigarette. Her attempt to throw her arms around him only irritated him.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Aw, can’t we at least greet each other the international way?”
“Act like a native Korean. What’s with the hugging?”
His irritation seeped into his voice, and the woman quickly clung to Ki-young instead. Pretty and flirtatious, she played her charms effortlessly—captivating married and single men alike.
“If someone showed up and offered you over 100 billion won, what would you do?”
Shinrok watched her expression closely as he inhaled smoke.
“That’d be amazing. I’d probably do anything. Why—are you going to give me 100 billion, Director?”
“No. Try it.”
“What?”
“Say no.”
The woman looked confused and glanced at Ki-young, who only shrugged. Hugging her arm, she hesitated, clearly intimidated by Shinrok’s unusual tone.
“H-How could I say that to you…?”
“No matter how agreeable you are, you can at least say no.”
“Maybe if I’d been shot in the head.”
Leaning crookedly against the railing, Shinrok gazed out over the terrace. The hotel overlooked Lotte Tower and the Han River, the dazzling lights of Gangnam stretching endlessly—but none of it registered.
“…On Haru says no.”
“She must be crazy.”
“She called me tacky. What about that?”
Even the question itself sounded pathetic, but her words lingered like residue. His self-esteem had dropped so low that he needed confirmation from others.
“She said that to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Is she insane? How could you ever be tacky?”
The woman initially brushed it off like a joke, but when she saw Shinrok’s hollow expression as he inhaled smoke, her face tightened.
“She’s crazy. Even if her eyes were blind, there’s nothing tacky about you from head to toe. Want me to teach her a lesson? Should I grab her by the hair so she learns to see properly?”
Though she spoke playfully, her tone turned sharp. But at Shinrok’s frown, she quickly lowered her gaze and shrank back into Ki-young’s arms.
Shinrok looked at her as if she were insignificant, then twisted his lips.
“Watch your mouth. I’m staying quiet—why are you making a fuss?”
“I-I just…”
“Enough. Worry about yourself.”
Tossing the cigarette to the ground, he crushed it underfoot. Perhaps because of Haru, his thoughts were tangled, and nothing seemed to lift his mood.
