Chapter 8: The Man Who Kept Bringing Her Milk

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing?”

As soon as lunch break started, the annoying man appeared in front of Yi-jae again while she was sitting in the park eating her bread.

Yi-jae pretended not to hear him and took another bite. The stale bread was too hard to tear through in one go, so she sank her teeth into it again and ripped off a piece with effort.

“You’ll choke eating it like that. Have it with some milk.”

“…”

It was embarrassing enough eating hard bread, and the man just stood there watching instead of leaving, forcing her to show him again how she struggled to tear it apart. Yi-jae pretended not to hear and continued chewing.

One advantage of stale bread was that it took a long time to chew. It gave her a convenient excuse not to talk.

“I said drink it.”

As always, the man held out a carton of plain milk. Normally she could ignore him forever, but the problem was that today, once again, he was blocking the sunlight. He had been doing this for days.

She had already tried waving him away to indicate that he should stop casting a shadow over her, but he ignored her and kept holding out the milk, shamelessly standing in her sunlight. How many days had this been going on now?

“Move. You’re making a shadow.”

“Oh, you spoke.”

The man laughed to himself like a real middle-aged guy. Even so, he made no effort to move and give her back the sunlight.

“I said move.”

“Kiddo, no matter how pretty you are, you’re going to get a tan.”

“…That’s the point.”

Yi-jae pouted. He didn’t know anything.

That man had clearly been born to loaf around. In the middle of winter, when there were so few chances to enjoy the sun, why did he have to interfere with this precious time?

The reason Yi-jae endured the bone-chilling wind outside was precisely because of the sunlight. If not now, she wouldn’t get another chance to see the sun.

She hadn’t been able to properly bask in the sunlight for days because of him. Maybe because of that, her body felt even more damp than usual.

It felt as though wet footprints would appear wherever she stepped, as though droplets would fly off if she flicked her fingers, as though tears would spill out if she closed her eyes. Her whole body felt full of water.

If someone squeezed her, she felt as though water might squirt out of her like a sponge.

But the man didn’t look like he had any intention of moving, so Yi-jae had no choice but to scoot over into a patch of sunlight. The man promptly occupied the empty space.

It looked as though he had graciously given her his seat, but Yi-jae decided not to care. It was better for him to sit beside her than to block the sunlight.

“Eat.”

The man held out the milk again. This pointless tug-of-war had already been going on for months. Even though he knew she’d never accept it, he offered her milk every single time they met.

Every lunch break, Yi-jae sat in the only nearby park and soaked up the sunlight. Whether there was a cold-wave warning or a blizzard, she always came. In fact, winter was preferable because the cold kept everyone else away.

Calling it a park was generous. There were only a few trees and a handful of benches; it was closer to an empty lot. Still, it was the only place where she could sit for free and enjoy the sunshine.

Yi-jae would slowly chew through a single piece of bread here, savoring every crumb while basking in the sunlight. She escaped the noisy factory and enjoyed a brief period of solitude.

That had been the routine.

Then one day, this man appeared.

He was the owner of the club across from the park where Yi-jae rested. A club across from a park, it was an odd location, but somehow the bleak park and the pitch-black club didn’t clash aesthetically.

Perhaps he had nothing better to do, because he showed up often.

“Eat.”

Apparently he had changed tactics after they finally spoke. This time it wasn’t milk. Perhaps he’d decided that she refused everything because she didn’t like the menu, because now he was holding out a triangle kimbap.

Yi-jae held up her bread to show that she already had food and therefore had no reason to accept his.

“That’s all you’re eating? No wonder you’re so frail.”

The man clicked his tongue and sat down on the bench beside her. His eyes looked like he wanted to snatch away her bread, but Yi-jae pretended not to notice and took another bite.

“You eat the same bread every day. Don’t you get sick of it?”

Yi-jae didn’t answer. If she responded, the conversation would drag on, and then she might end up talking about herself.

No, she definitely would.

That she didn’t have parents. That this was her first job. That she felt uncomfortable around her coworkers. That she kept wandering outside because she hated staying in the dormitory.

But nobody wanted to hear those things.

Yi-jae had learned to keep her mouth shut. That was one of the useful survival skills she’d learned at the orphanage.

“Eat. Someone gave it to me.”

She thought he’d finally given up trying to feed her, but today he offered something new.

She shouldn’t have looked. But the object in his large hand seemed absurdly small, so she unconsciously raised her eyes to examine it. And because she couldn’t tell what it was from the packaging alone, she stared longer than usual.

Perhaps mistaking her curiosity for interest, the man immediately opened the small square box.

Seven round cookies stood neatly inside.

She had never eaten one before, but she knew what they were.

Macarons.

Ridiculously sweet desserts. Each one cost more than twice as much as the bread she ate for lunch every day, and they were only a single bite. A waste of money.

As Yi-jae silently clicked her tongue, the man picked up a macaron and ate it.

One disappeared with each bite.

And every time one vanished, she felt strangely anxious.

Even though they weren’t hers.

“Eat.”

There was only one left when he held out the box again.

“…”

Unable to resist the temptation, she took a bite.

The sweetness that exploded in her mouth made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Sweet.

Nutty.

And then sweet again.

Very sweet.

Sweet enough that she immediately accepted the milk he offered afterward.

As she finished the milk and wiped her lips, she noticed how pleased he looked.

“Don’t think this means we’re friends.”

“Puhahaha!”

The man burst out laughing.

He laughed so openly and brightly that Yi-jae thought spring had arrived.

But what came faster than spring was the factory fire.

Everything she’d stored in the dormitory was reduced to ashes.

She became completely penniless.

****

“Oh dear.”

She’d been feeling sick and feverish, and forcing herself to visit the flower market had exhausted her so much that she’d fallen asleep on the bus ride home. She had bought fewer flowers than usual, yet because her body felt so heavy, she’d tired much more quickly.

There were still flowers left in the refrigerator at the shop, but she didn’t want to carelessly put together the bouquet she’d been commissioned to make. That’s why she’d gone all the way to the flower market.

She was looking forward to making a beautiful bouquet.

These days, that was her only source of happiness.

“Huh? Why is the door… open?”

After getting off the bus and laboriously carrying the flowers back, Yi-jae saw that the door to her flower shop, Flowers Meet, was open.

Her heart pounded.

She didn’t own much, so she had never worried much about theft, but facing an actual emergency was different.

What could a thief even steal from a flower shop?

She had taken her wallet and phone with her. She had no valuables to begin with. All that remained was her bankbook.

Surely no one had broken in to steal flowers.

Standing at a distance, Yi-jae peered through the glass door.

It was too dark to see clearly.

She hoped the thief had already left. The thought of running into someone inside terrified her.

She set down the flowers wrapped in newspaper. If she encountered a thief, she’d need to be able to run.

But before she could even put them down completely, the bouquet was suddenly yanked upward.

“Are these for me?”

It was Ju-han.

She had no idea where he’d come from. He casually took the flowers wrapped in newspaper and walked into the shop.

“H-huh?”

She hurried after him.

Even if a thief had turned the place upside down, she felt safer knowing she wasn’t alone. The Ju-han she knew wasn’t the kind of person who would abandon a woman in danger and run away.

But the inside of the shop looked exactly the same as when she’d left.

“Hm?”

When she opened the register, the few bills she’d left there were untouched.

When she checked the drawers, all the floral foam, wire, and supplies were still there.

The flowers in the refrigerator were exactly as she’d left them that morning.

“Please stay here. I’ll go check.”

There was a tiny room in the back of the shop.

If the thief hadn’t escaped yet, they would be in there.

She grabbed the scissors sitting on the worktable.

She prayed that nothing would happen, but she couldn’t truly relax until she’d checked that room. It was better to open the door than to carry around the fear that something terrible might happen. If disaster was coming anyway, she’d rather face it head-on.

“Why the scissors?”

“Shh.”

If someone was inside, they would be listening to their voices.

And if they learned she was armed, they might become even more dangerous.

Yi-jae tried to silently signal him to be quiet with her expression, but Ju-han walked ahead of her and opened the door first.

“Be careful!”

Ju-han stuck his head inside and pulled it back out.

His expression was disappointingly calm.

“No one’s here.”

Yi-jae switched on the light.

The tiny room, no larger than six square meters, came into view at once.

No one was there.

Thank goodness.

As the tension drained from her body, her legs went weak.

“…Ah.”

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