By Zephyria 
The moment a sense of anxiety was detected, the fingers resting on the keyboard began to move. The screen turned white. Then, a chilling silence spread throughout the entire office.
“…I’ve closed the page.”
Amidst the silence, Yi-ho spoke to Min-gyu.
The development team members, who had been excitedly enjoying their distractions, bowed their bodies as if burying their heads into their keyboards. The quiet clatter of keys sent messages like ‘Holy shit, we’re fucked…’ to nearby colleagues. Min-gyu leaned over Deputy Manager Kang’s monitor.
“Let’s check the number of coupons issued and the number of payments.”
“Ah, I, this, what should I….”
“Get it together and enter the admin window.”
Min-gyu stared at the monitor in silence for a moment before returning to his own seat. Rapid typing filled the quiet. Soon after, a company messenger notification popped up for Yi-ho.
“Team Leader Song, put that on the page.”
“Ah, yes….”
It was a notice thanking customers for their enthusiastic interest and stating that they were currently checking stock due to an excessive number of visitors. The tone was bright, contrasting sharply with Min-gyu’s rigid expression. Then, Min-gyu spoke as he grabbed his jacket and slid his arm into it.
“Who is at the live broadcast studio? Tell them to stall for time. And call the CS team and apologize in advance.”
With a stern face, he left the office. Yi-ho looked at the empty chair that hadn’t even been pushed properly back under the desk.
Min-gyu returned to the office exactly three minutes later. Instead of going to his own seat, he stopped by Yi-ho’s desk.
“Team Leader Song, bring the server back up and restore the event page.”
“…Yes.”
Yi-ho hesitated for a moment before asking.
“How was it handled?”
In response to a question he wouldn’t normally have asked, a faint sigh was heard.
“We decided to sanction only those who looked like they were hoarding, and for the rest, we’ll accept the stock for the amount that went over.”
“…….”
With that, Min-gyu returned to his team.
“Yoon-kyung, go out and clear your head for about 30 minutes.”
“No. I, I should help clean up….”
“Staying in your current state won’t be helpful to the team members.”
After sending out the shell-shocked Deputy Manager Kang, he distributed tasks to the team members. Then, he sat in his own seat, continuing to tap away at the keyboard or take phone calls. There were a few more requests for cooperation from the development team. Since it was a serious situation, Yi-ho, as the team leader, handled them personally and quickly. Yi-ho wanted to do so himself.
In the midst of all this, when Department Head Gye inevitably barged in and chewed Min-gyu out for a long time, Yi-ho felt like hitting the man’s bald head with a keyboard.
In an atmosphere where even the surrounding teams found it hard to breathe comfortably, 12 o’clock lunch time arrived. The marketing team members looked at each other, gauging the situation while watching Min-gyu, who didn’t move. After about five minutes, Min-gyu spoke in a low voice.
“Go have your lunch.”
“Team Leader, why don’t you come with us….”
“It’ll be busier in the afternoon, so it’s better to rest while you can. I need to organize my thoughts.”
“…Ah, understood.”
Thus, Min-gyu was left alone at the spacious desk. Min-gyu sent a reply to a message that had just arrived and rubbed his eyes. Then, he looked toward the seat next to him.
“Go eat lunch.”
“…….”
“I didn’t think there would be someone other than my team members I’d have to say this to.”
Similarly, only one person remained at the development team’s desks.
“I’m working too.”
Yi-ho needlessly tapped his fingers, which had stopped on the keyboard, making a sound. However, when Min-gyu didn’t stop staring at him intently, he eventually stood up.
Tap.
Yi-ho intentionally walked around behind Min-gyu. A soft fist tapped the shoulder that hadn’t even had the jacket removed yet.
Min-gyu’s afternoon was spent being called here and there, getting scolded, getting torn down, and cleaning up the aftermath. Only as the clock neared quitting time, after a grueling process, did the atmosphere finally shift to a state where it seemed no one would be fired. The last image Yi-ho saw of Min-gyu before leaving was him taking a call with one hand while moving the mouse with the other. Yi-ho packed up his things without even being able to give Min-gyu a nod of goodbye.
[Good job today]
He hesitated, glancing at Min-gyu from afar, wondering whether to send it or not, and eventually closed the screen.
He knew that Cha Min-gyu had a certain level of perfectionism. Whether in work or private life, he controlled himself meticulously.
Unlike Yi-ho’s field, where countless dummy data and test cases could be experimented with, the field of marketing is a series of uncontrolled events. However, Min-gyu found professional fulfillment in skillfully coordinating unexpected situations and completing them in a way that was closest to the perfect picture he had drawn.
Being that kind of person, Cha Min-gyu would surely handle this situation seamlessly. However, a future outcome couldn’t erase the stress he had received today.
“…….”
Yi-ho looked around the house. Messy spots caught his eye here and there. He recovered the pajamas lying like reefs in the living room and hurriedly ran the vacuum. After making the place look like a home where a human actually lived, he sent a message.
[When are you coming?]
[Don’t go to Unit 1, come to Unit 2]
Without even waiting for a reply, he moved busily. He mopped the entrance, living room, and kitchen, and gathered the tablet PC, research papers, and books scattered on the dining table—which he used as a secondary desk—and stuffed them into the study before sealing the door.
Even then, Min-gyu did not check the message.
Yi-ho sat on the sofa in the living room, which had regained a rare cleanliness, and opened the company messenger. The light next to Min-gyu’s name was still on. As he stared at the screen for a long time as if in a staring contest, the ‘online’ indicators of the remaining marketing team members began to turn off one by one. Yi-ho immediately began the next step. Another flurry of busy movement followed.
“Huuu….”
After completing all the preparations, he sprawled out on the part of the living room sofa closest to the front door, recharging the stamina worn down by the grueling housework after work.
It was far lacking compared to what Min-gyu had prepared for him in the past, but it was his best effort. Lying there, Yi-ho’s gaze flickered toward the entrance.
Ding.
The old apartment allowed the sound of the elevator stopping on the same floor to be heard clearly. Although Yi-ho was usually so dull that he didn’t even notice noise between floors, today he was on high alert and noticed immediately.
‘He’s here.’
Step. The sound of dress shoes echoed.
Then, the person who stepped out of the elevator pressed the door lock of the house opposite his.
“Huh?”
Yi-ho flung the door open immediately.
“Hey, Cha Min-gyu!”
The man returning home late turned to look at Yi-ho. Yi-ho rushed out the door and pulled Min-gyu’s elbow.
“I told you to come here. Didn’t you see the text?”
The door lock, which had stopped receiving input for a moment, made a sound indicating the session had timed out. Min-gyu scanned Yi-ho’s attire and let out a faint smile.
“Song-i, how old are you to come out barefoot?”
“You haven’t eaten dinner, have you? Come to my place.”
“I’m not in the mood for that today.”
“…Come anyway.”
He hesitated for a moment at the cool rejection, but Yi-ho pulled Min-gyu’s arm, pretending to be brazen. As he pulled, Min-gyu’s body, which had been resisting, leaned toward Yi-ho.
“Wait, ha… Song-i, do you train by hitting a steel keyboard every day? Why is your arm strength so good? You’re going to step on my feet. Stop pulling. Alright. I’ll go on my own.”
Min-gyu, who had been stumbling to avoid the defenseless toes, finally surrendered. He let out a deep sigh of resignation and then grabbed Yi-ho, who was leading the way toward Unit 2, and pulled him behind.
“You’ll stub your toe on the door if you do that.”
He pressed the password and opened the door lock instead of Yi-ho. Standing with his back against the wide-open door, he belatedly gestured for Yi-ho, who was standing only on the edges of his feet, to go in.
“Go wash your feet first.”
“Don’t go back.”
“I’m not going, I’m not going.”
Behind Yi-ho, who headed for the bathroom, Min-gyu set down his briefcase and jacket at the entrance and entered the house, rolling up his shirt sleeves. He intended to wash his hands at the sink instead of the bathroom occupied by Yi-ho, but he had to stop in his tracks.
The dining table, which was usually piled with knick-knacks and laptops, was lavishly set.
Assorted sashimi, spicy chicken feet, sweet and sour pork… various foods that looked as if he had emptied out every delivery app welcomed Min-gyu. Among them was tteokbokki, something that had never been chosen from Yi-ho’s delivery app account. On top of that, there were rice cakes made by Yi-ho’s mother and two bottles of soju.
The sight of him stopping by the table and staring at it was caught by Yi-ho, who had just come out of the bathroom. Min-gyu’s fingertips tapped the cap of the soju bottle.
“Is this an ancestral rite table? Are you commemorating me?”
“Ah, why do you put it like that.”
“Why did Song-i, who can’t even manage a household, struggle to set all this up? I’m almost touched.”
Yi-ho sat across from Min-gyu, who had finished washing his hands and feet. Looking at him head-on, fatigue was clearly visible on Min-gyu’s face.
“Did you eat even something simple?”
“Um….”
As Min-gyu trailed off, a pizza box was pushed toward him.
“I’ll enjoy it.”
Min-gyu picked up the pizza first among the discordant menu selection. Since Min-gyu, who was usually the more talkative of the two, didn’t start a conversation, silence fell.
No, it wasn’t that the two of them were always harmonious; there were certainly quiet moments like this. The reason it felt awkward now, whereas it hadn’t been before, was that Yi-ho was walking on eggshells.