The Rainy Season

The holiday was short, and I returned to my daily routine.

Still, it wasn’t a complete waste to have learned the ropes on the weekend. I was able to handle the tasks Mina occasionally threw my way without much trouble.

She gave me work as if testing the waters, and after I successfully completed a few more tasks, the amount of work gradually increased. Now, I was doing the work of one full person (according to Mina).

Thanks to that, my overtime also increased.

Her declaration to distribute work fairly was kept. Thanks to that, I had fewer instances of working overtime alone.

Though the eyes of the other employees working overtime with me seemed to be losing their minds.

They looked unhappy with the increased workload, and frankly, I had a lot to say about that.

It was only an hour more than the regular quitting time, and I didn’t think it was necessary to act like the world was ending.

And they only ended up working overtime because they were goofing off during work hours.

When I told Mina this thought, she burst into unprecedented laughter and slapped my shoulder repeatedly.

“Hahaha, I never expected Inho to say something like that.”

In the office where only the two of us remained after everyone else had left, she covered her mouth with her hand and giggled as she watched me work beside her.

A month passed like that.

The energy of early summer now boiled over into complete heat, and it became impossible to live without turning on the air conditioner in the humid air.

People’s clothes became thinner, and I had difficulty knowing where to look, making it difficult to know where to direct my gaze.

If I even glanced at someone else, Mina would run over and glare at me, making me even more careful.

She and I already felt like we were half dating.

We just hadn’t confessed, but we held hands and engaged in light skinship without hesitation.

I think our psychological distance had grown closer during our movie theater date last time.

Go to work, do work, and go home.

On weekends, the movie theater or the park.

We spent our days in a similar yet different routine, and Mina, who had become addicted to Instagram, took pictures everywhere we went.

When I asked her why she took so many pictures, she said it was because she was happy in the moments she spent with me and wanted to capture them in photos.

Listening to her, my face flushed red, and I had to turn my gaze elsewhere.

I thought I was adapting to this dimension without any major problems.

But didn’t they say that unfortunate events come suddenly?

On a Thursday like any other, Mina and I were summoned by the director.

“I wonder what’s going on?”

I was a little scared by the director’s summons, as I hadn’t had a proper conversation with him since coming here.

Usually, this kind of summons meant the matter wasn’t good.

“I wonder. I could understand if he only called me. What’s he calling Inho for? Oh, maybe he’s going to tell you to be a team leader or something?”

“We’ll know when we get there.”

When Mina knocked on the door, a voice from inside told us to come in.

I had encountered the director on my way to and from work, but I had never seen him head-on like this.

He was in his early fifties and wore well-tailored clothes.

“I heard you were looking for me and Inho.”

After closing the door, she spoke, and the director, who was looking at us askance, threw out a question.

“How are you distributing work these days?”

“Pardon?”

She replied to the sudden question.

“I’ve been hearing stories that you’re giving all the work to one particular person.”

At his words, Mina said as if she understood.

“Ah, you mean that Inho is getting too much work, so I’m distributing it fairly…”

“What are you talking about?”

The director retorted bluntly as if he had heard something absurd, and I felt that things had gone wrong.

“When I look at Inho’s work these days, it’s been reduced by more than half compared to before. You’re passing Inho’s work on to other people, aren’t you?”

“No, Director. It’s just that Inho used to do a lot of work…”

“Enough. I know you two have been working together for a long time and are close, but don’t reduce work out of personal feelings.”

He waved his hand as if he didn’t want to hear it.

Mina seemed to want to say something as if she felt wronged, but I nudged her in the side to stop her.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Tsk. I don’t know why someone who’s good at their job is doing this.”

The director clicked his tongue and gestured for us to leave, and we left the room with a short bow.

“Try to work together as a team. Don’t just play around with each other.”

The director’s words were heard behind us as we left.

Mina couldn’t suppress her anger for a while after being scolded, or rather, given a lecture.

She left the office with a stiff face, and I followed her.

“Hoo… Hoo…”

She kept taking deep breaths as if trying to suppress her rising anger, but it didn’t seem to be getting any better.

“Are you feeling better?”

Holding an iced Americano that we had taken out from a cafe, we walked aimlessly down the street.

“A little. But I still feel bad.”

From her stiff words, I could clearly feel how angry she was.

“Should we just quit the company? You and me, Mina?”

When I said it jokingly, she, who had been walking while looking straight ahead, looked up at me.

Her eyes were slightly empty.

“Don’t say things like that. This is a space that you and I have built. Why should we quit? If anyone should quit, it’s the people who came in late.”

She continued, huffing and puffing.

“This is a place where our time and our sweat are. I can never leave.”

“Ah, I understand. I was just saying it as a joke.”

I took a step back, scared by her momentum, and she glared at me sharply.

After the director called us in, Mina informed everyone that there had been a problem with the work distribution and distributed it as [before].

The team members whose work had been reduced went home happily, and Mina and I were once again struggling with overtime.

“I’m sorry.”

Seeing that I was having a hard time with the increased workload, she mumbled.

Who was worrying about whom? Looking at Mina, whose dark circles had reached her cheekbones, I responded to her concern with a smile.

A week passed by in a daze like that.

Friday. Whether it was the beginning of the full-fledged rainy season, the sky was humid.

I came to work early, took care of business in the bathroom, and returned to the office, but the atmosphere was not good at all.

Mina was standing in front of Yoon Hye-young with a very annoyed expression.

Yoon Hye-young was explaining something to her with a very frightened face.

“So, you forgot to pass on the schedule?”

“It’s not that I didn’t do it, but I forgot…”

“That’s the same thing. What did they say on their end?”

“They said they don’t have the manpower… They don’t have anyone today, so it’s impossible to do it alone.”

Mina ruffled her hair roughly.

“Ugh, how could you forget something so basic?”

“Well, that’s…”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do. Pack your bags right away and go down to Busan. Oversee everything from packaging to shipping and come back.”

“But, Mina. My father is sick, so I can’t go far.”

“Then who goes? It’s Hye-young’s fault, so who’s going to go down to Busan?”

“Well, that’s…”

The atmosphere in the office became rapidly cold, and it was difficult to even breathe loudly.

The director intervened in the stiff atmosphere.

“Inho can go.”

The director came out of the pantry in the center of the office.

He looked down at Mina.

Despite the pressure from the height difference, Mina did not back down.

“This is clearly Hye-young’s fault. But why does Inho have to go down?”

“Can’t you do that for each other on the same team? And her father is sick. Mina, you’re very heartless, aren’t you?”

“Isn’t this a public matter before being heartless? You were the one who told us to clearly distinguish between public and private matters, Director.”

“Are you talking back?”

The argument between the two showed no signs of calming down, and I stepped in to resolve the situation.

“I’ll just go.”

When I intervened, Mina looked at me with wide eyes.

“Then let’s do that. Well, good work, everyone.”

The director fled the scene as if running away.

“Inho. Let’s talk for a moment.”

I was dragged into the conference room.

As soon as the door to the conference room closed, she asked.

“Why did you step in?”

“It was a conversation that would only end if one side backed down anyway.”

“The other side could have backed down.”

“You know the chances of that are slim, right?”

“……..”

“If we keep going in a direction that clashes, our position will be greatly shaken.”

You know that well, right? I made that kind of face.

“If we want to get along, we have no choice. If we keep pushing, you and I will be excluded from this group.”

“This kind of thing could happen a few more times in the future.”

“Let’s think about that when it happens. When I come back from Busan this time, try suggesting to the director that he give me something. I think he’ll grant that much.”

“Okay. I’ll strongly protest this.”

“It would be nice to have a car at times like this. It’s sad to be a pedestrian. I’ll book a train and go down, so please talk to them well.”

“Yes. You’re the only one, Inho.”

At my energetic words, Mina smiled helplessly.

Four hours since Inho volunteered to go down and left.

The office had returned to its original state.

“It’s about time he called.”

Looking at the pouring rain through the window, Mina waited for his call.

He definitely called when he got on the train, but it was already time for him to have arrived in Busan.

The rain continued to fall, and her heart was sinking as if submerged in the rain.

“I’m anxious.”

-Click, click

She bit her fingernails and shook her legs.

“Oh my!”

A loud voice was heard from the other side of the office.

Something unusual seemed to have happened, so she headed towards the source of the sound.

Despite the short distance, a sticky anxiety grabbed her ankle.

The faces of the other employees who saw her approaching turned pale.

“What… happened?”

“Mina… this…”

One of the employees pointed to the screen.

[Train derailment. Casualties being tallied]

Her mind went blank for a moment after reading the headline.