Chapter 47: I wish you would rely on me too

The inside of Jobtopia was much wider and denser than I had expected.
As I looked around, marveling at the intricately designed scenery that resembled a small village, Yu Garyeon tapped my shoulder and said,

“Looks like it’s starting.”

At her words, I turned my head and saw Han Yeoreum walking towards the cooking station beyond the glass window. Her awkward gait in the chef’s uniform looked clumsy.

“Ugh, why does it keep doing this…”

Han Yeoreum, who had been carefully touching the bread dough, soon pouted her lips and started kneading the dough irritably.
Judging by her sidelong glances at the students next to her, it seemed something wasn’t going well.

At her flustered appearance, I chuckled, but at the same time, I felt a tingling sensation in my nose and sniffled repeatedly.
I couldn’t help it. It was the first time I had seen her work so hard on something.

“Oppa.”

Following the finger poking my back, I saw Yu Garyeon holding out a tissue the size of her palm.

“You’re going to drip.”
“Uh, I think I’m catching a cold.”

Yu Garyeon, watching me blow my nose, smiled faintly and spoke.

“You seem more excited than she is.”

Hit right on the mark, I lowered my gaze to my feet and kept quiet.
Finding my reaction amusing, Yu Garyeon covered her mouth and giggled for a moment, then reached out and cupped my cheeks.

“Why? Let me see. I’m curious what kind of expression you’re making.”
“Give me a break.”
“No. You have to experience it too, oppa. How I felt this morning.”

After finally lifting my face, Yu Garyeon smiled with satisfaction and took a picture with her phone.

“So this is what you looked like.”

Yu Garyeon muttered, moving my face around in her phone.

“Taking pictures is cheating.”
“I need to get paid too to feel motivated to work, right?”
“…Do as you please.”

I can’t. No matter how hard I try, I can’t win against that smile. I scratched my inexplicably tingling cheek and turned my head again.

Han Yeoreum, beyond the glass window, looked at me, flashed a creepy, cockroach-like smile, and waved the piece of dough she had kneaded.
After watching her for a moment, I cautiously spoke to Yu Garyeon.

“Anyway, she doesn’t have a single cute bone in her body.”
“I know, right?”
“Still, I hope things work out for her.”
“They will.”

Yu Garyeon continued, looking at Han Yeoreum.

“They will.”

Although her voice was casual, there was a faint tremor in it.

****

“Phew.”

Noon. As Yu Dojin, who had taken a seat in a corner of the restaurant and was looking at the menu, let out a deflated sigh, it caught his ear.
He subtly lowered the menu in his hand and turned his head.

“What’s wrong? Are you tired already?”

Han Yeoreum shook her head at Yu Dojin’s words. However, her gaze was fixed on the paper she was holding, showing no sign of moving.
Then what is it? Only after Yu Dojin asked again did Han Yeoreum raise her head.

“…Like you said, I learned that there’s something I can do too.”

The air conditioner breeze from the ceiling gently shook the paper Han Yeoreum was holding. Shimmering beyond the fluttering paper was the word “Talent Spectrum” and several graphs.

Why did the kid who was all smiles just a moment ago become so gloomy again? Yu Dojin temporarily set aside his worries and spoke with a nonchalant expression.

“So?”
“Look at this.”

Where Han Yeoreum’s finger pointed, the phrase “Future Tasks” was written.

“Talent is merely a seed, and endless effort is required to make it bloom. Please set a clear goal and move forward steadily… What’s wrong with this?”
“Do I have time for that?”

Han Yeoreum leaned back and said, looking up at the ceiling.

“Everyone was working so hard. There was even a kid who looked younger than me, asking the teacher all sorts of questions and getting advice on their career path. Compared to them, I…”

Yu Dojin glanced at Yu Garyeon, who was sitting next to him, and spoke.

“What do you think?”

Yu Garyeon paused for a moment, as if choosing her words, rested her chin on her hand, and looked at Han Yeoreum before opening her lips.

“You’re being spoiled.”
“Right? Talking as if she’s lived her whole life already, it’s ridiculous.”

Yu Dojin replied with a smirk. Yu Garyeon nodded and slapped Han Yeoreum’s trembling leg under the table.

“Stop shaking, it’s distracting.”

Yu Dojin looked at Han Yeoreum, who was rubbing her thigh with wide eyes, and spoke.

“Actually, it’s not entirely wrong. There are many people who have decided on their dreams from a young age and have been running towards them. But there are just as many who haven’t.”

He pointed at himself and continued.

“I ended up going to art school, and then I ended up becoming a designer, and now I’m unemployed.”
“Me too. I just lazed around every day and went to art school, and now I’m working in development.”
“How did that happen?”
“I don’t know, it just became fun as I did it?”

Yu Garyeon replied with a shrug. Yu Dojin turned his head again to look at Han Yeoreum and continued.

“See? If you just do what you can do one by one, things will work out somehow. But that doesn’t mean you can just sit back and wait.”

Yu Garyeon, fanning her right hand like a fan, giggled as if she found the pontificating Yu Dojin cute, and spoke.

“Couldn’t you have said that a little more coolly?”
“I tried that last time and got told I was trying too hard to act cool.”

Yu Dojin, who had been listing the humiliations he had suffered at Han Yeoreum’s hands, suddenly clutched his stomach.
A gurgling, ominous sound erupted from his trembling stomach.

“…I’ll be right back, I need to use the restroom.”
“After all that grumbling, you’re going to the restroom. So disgusting.”

Han Yeoreum said with a faint smile. Yu Dojin looked at her with a resentful expression and pointed his finger.

“This is because of you…”
“Unbelievable. Why is your needing to poop my fault?”
“You kept fussing, ‘Make this, make that,’ and shoved all sorts of ridiculous things into my mouth.”

Yu Dojin thought about what had entered his stomach that morning. Bread, cookies, cola, hamburgers, ramen, sausages…
Of all the many jobs, why did you have to choose only the ones related to food? Just as he was about to say that, his stomach churned again with a loud noise.
“Ugh…”

Now was not the time to worry about such things. Yu Dojin left the giggling Han Yeoreum behind and hurried out of the restaurant.

A burst of commotion passed, and an awkward silence fell between the two remaining women.
Yu Garyeon sipped her water silently, staring at Han Yeoreum, and Han Yeoreum, as if burdened by her gaze, took out her phone and started fiddling with it.

Finally, Yu Garyeon, who had put down her cup, watched her own face ripple in the water for a moment, then slowly opened her lips.

“Thank you.”

Han Yeoreum’s finger, which had been tapping the phone screen, stopped. Han Yeoreum, who had been blinking as if she had misheard, soon turned her gaze in the direction of the sound.
Yu Garyeon, sitting across from her, looked directly into Han Yeoreum’s eyes and spoke again.

“I’m sorry, did you not hear me? I said thank you.”

Startled by the sudden situation, Han Yeoreum opened her eyes wide and pointed her finger at her own face. Yu Garyeon, watching her, nodded and continued.

“If it weren’t for you, Yeoreum-ssi, everything would have been over. Oppa would have disappeared, and a day like this, where we can laugh and talk, would have never come again.”

Yu Garyeon swept back her hair and looked at the seat where Yu Dojin had been sitting until a moment ago.

“I probably would have kept regretting it. Why couldn’t I have been more honest back then? Why, why didn’t I realize it… and so on.”
“No, I didn’t really—”
“So I’ll say it clearly here.”

Yu Garyeon bowed her head to Han Yeoreum, who was fumbling and moving her lips.

“Thank you, for supporting oppa all this time.”

Yu Garyeon, who raised her head with a resolute expression, spoke again.

“And I’m sorry. For making you carry it all alone.”

Han Yeoreum was confused. No, she vaguely knew that she wasn’t a bad person, just clumsy with her words.
But she never thought she would think that way. Because of me? All I did was cling to that man and act like a child.
Furthermore, the sight of her admitting her mistake and apologizing honestly made her seem even more mature to Han Yeoreum.

The sense of accomplishment from having achieved something, and the pride of having that achievement recognized by others.
Overwhelmed by a strange sense of embarrassment, Han Yeoreum couldn’t even give a proper answer and could only turn her flushed face away.

Yu Garyeon, watching her, also smiled faintly, as if a little embarrassed, and continued.

“You may have already heard, but oppa said… he hopes things work out for you, Yeoreum-ssi.”

Han Yeoreum shook her head from side to side, as if embarrassed, at Yu Garyeon’s words.

“And it’s the same for me. I really hope things work out for you. So…”

Yu Garyeon took out a business card from inside her jacket and gently held it out.

“If anything happens, I hope you’ll rely on me too.”

Han Yeoreum carefully took the business card placed in front of her and looked at Yu Garyeon with trembling eyes.

“I’m sorry, I actually wanted to say this from the moment we first met, but I was afraid it would seem insincere if I said it next to oppa. He might think I’m putting on a show to look good, you know?”

Yu Garyeon said with a shy smile.
Han Yeoreum, as if snapping back to reality, let out a hot breath and nodded her head quickly. Finally, after calming her trembling lips, just as Han Yeoreum was about to cautiously open her mouth,

“What, you didn’t order?”

It was Yu Dojin. “I’ll get it for you while I’m at it,” he said, picking up the water cup Yu Garyeon had been sipping, and tilted his head at Han Yeoreum, who was moving her lips like a fish out of water.

“Are you sick? Why is your face so red?”
“Ah, no, not really…”

Yu Dojin, seeing Han Yeoreum shaking her head frantically, let out a small “ah” and then added.

“Don’t hold it in, just go quickly. The food will get cold if you go after it comes. It’s to the right of the entrance.”

Yu Dojin soon clutched his shin and let out a groan.