All the way to Han Seo Jung’s house carrying the lunchbox, Choi Yoon thought about Kim Tae Rin.

He wondered if he could just confirm whether she was an impostor or not, if he could name and settle these wavering emotions.

It was a matter that could be resolved just by checking the surgical scar.

At first, Choi Yoon really intended to do that. He thought it would be easy. When alone with someone of the opposite sex in the same space, or even if not necessarily the opposite sex, such moments often arose. He thought this time would naturally turn out the same way.

Choi Yoon was always the one to refuse and leave, but he planned not to avoid it if Kim Tae Rin approached him that way. He could just check her body and push her away.

He thought it would be the fastest and surest method.

But now he wasn’t confident.

First of all, Kim Tae Rin didn’t have any such thoughts towards Choi Yoon, and above all, if such a thing were to happen, he hoped it would be a progression based solely on emotion, with no reason not to tell Kim Tae Rin.

Rather than a relationship that would stop after just checking her body as a means to resolve doubts, he wished it could be a moment of fully confirming each other’s hearts with everything clearly revealed.

That would be really nice, he thought.

I want to hold her.

His face suddenly flushed hot.

He stumbled. He almost slipped on the embankment and rolled into the ditch. He barely managed to regain his balance.

He checked the lunchbox. Fortunately, the contents hadn’t spilled out.

But his heart was beating rapidly as if it were broken.

What are you thinking right now?

You didn’t come here to play. Much less to fall in love.

He shouldn’t mistake Kim Tae Rin’s dry kindness for affection. She didn’t like him romantically. It was clearly cooperation. To be precise, it was reluctant cohabitation.

He shook his head vigorously. He tried to take a deep breath.

At this point, he had absolutely no intention of looking at Kim Tae Rin’s body to confirm anything. He disliked that idea.

If he told Yoo Ji Ho, he would have scolded him for this contradiction while doing background checks, but that was how Choi Yoon felt.

I want to find out quickly.

He was anxious. It was the first time in his life he’d been so desperate to dig into one person.

Even when I think I’ve grasped something, it’s always ambiguous.

‘Are there any items that shouldn’t be caught on camera? If so, please put them away in advance.’

When he had casually asked that recently, Kim Tae Rin didn’t seem to mind at all. It seemed there were no such suspicious items to begin with, or she had already put them away long ago.

If she had cleared things out in advance, when did she do it? I’ve been by her side the whole time, was there an opportunity? Suddenly he realized.

The day she went shopping. Choi Yoon was away for a long time. It was enough time to overturn the restaurant three or four times.

Damn it.

It was all circumstantial evidence. There was no physical evidence.

He stopped abruptly. Clutching the lunch bag tightly, Choi Yoon gritted his teeth.

He was burning up inside. On top of that, it was a problem that he kept being drawn to Kim Tae Rin as if bewitched whenever he faced her. It was truly a very serious problem.

Recalling the moment he put the earrings on her, Choi Yoon still felt like his chest would burst. He had only meant to check if there were traces of scales behind her ear, but in that moment he forgot his purpose. He was breathless.

If he hadn’t come to his senses then, he might have grabbed the back of her head and devoured her lips.

It seemed he could only accept those feelings if he could properly define Kim Tae Rin. Just recalling it now was too much strain on his heart.

He had arrived before he knew it.

The small country house made of mud was interesting in itself. Stopping at the entrance without a gate, Choi Yoon took out his camera. He looked at Han Seo Jung’s house as a whole through the lens.

Ah, the feel is quite nice.

He lowered the camera.

“Excuse me.”

He entered while greeting.

But there was no sign of anyone. As he was about to greet again, Choi Yoon noticed that the door of a small annex attached to one side was slightly open. He immediately recognized it as Han Seo Jung’s room.

Although the atmosphere was clearly different from Kim Tae Rin’s bedroom, the white fluffy bedding seemed to be the same product.

Various baseball-related posters and goods occupied one wall, and signed balls were on display.

Above the bed were small photos, and even from the doorway, it was obvious that photos taken with Kim Tae Rin dominated.

Among them, Choi Yoon’s gaze lingered long on a solo photo of Kim Tae Rin.

With a familiar background that seemed to be taken in the restaurant’s garden, Kim Tae Rin was brushing back her windswept hair with her head slightly bowed. Her eyes were narrowed from smiling widely, and her neatly lowered eyelashes were pretty.

It was an expression Choi Yoon had never seen before. Heat suddenly rushed to his throat. So she can smile like that too. He was curious about every detail of that face.

Choi Yoon shook his head. He tried to shake off his thoughts. He strode across the yard.

“Is anyone here?”

Still no answer. Choi Yoon sat down on the porch. He put down the lunchbox and looked around.

He had a strange feeling. People clearly lived here, but except for the annex that was obviously Han Seo Jung’s room, it didn’t feel like a home because it was untouched. It was like a small mound of dirt shaped like a house.

“Oh. You really came.”

Han Seo Jung, who was casually entering the yard with no gate or fence to mark its boundaries, opened his eyes wide.

Choi Yoon held up the lunchbox in his hand.

Han Seo Jung plopped down next to Choi Yoon and carelessly kicked off his sneakers. He took out the lunchbox and opened the lid.

Choi Yoon asked.

“Where did you go?”

“Ah, just down there.”

Taking a big spoonful of fried rice to his mouth, Han Seo Jung added.

“The police made a mess searching for the impostor, so the path, if you can call it that, leading up to our house was in shambles. I just went to clear it a bit so people don’t trip and fall.”

Choi Yoon thought he knew where he meant. He recalled the innocent bird that had been sacrificed.

“Be careful. You know there was gunfire there recently.”

Han Seo Jung waved his hand as if to say don’t even mention it.

“Yes, I know. The village chief nags so much about being careful. When you go down from here, it’s hard to see people coming down from below.”

Choi Yoon thought that made sense. He had thought it was dangerous the whole way walking here.

“They should either cut down some trees or at least clear the grass to improve visibility.”

“We can’t cut down trees recklessly. It’s private property. And cutting the grass is useless. It grows thick again overnight.”

Choi Yoon thought he should talk to an adult. It’s a matter directly related to safety.

“Where are your parents?”

“Ah, I live alone.”

“…Alone?”

Han Seo Jung nodded. His face was nonchalant.

“Originally, I lived with my grandmother and me. But my grandmother passed away last year, so now I’m alone.”

On the other hand, Choi Yoon was on the verge of fainting.

Such a young kid living alone here?

Now he understood why there were so many of Han Seo Jung’s things at the Funbak Flower Restaurant.

Kim Tae Rin must have been worried about Han Seo Jung being alone. So she probably had him come over often to feed him and let him sleep, and naturally his belongings increased and mixed in. It’s a natural thing.

Choi Yoon would have done the same.

“So that’s why you said you often sleep at the restaurant.”

“Yes. When it rains heavily or snows, noona tells me to come stay at the restaurant. She says she’s worried.”

“Doesn’t Tae Rin ask you to just move in completely?”

“She does say that, but I don’t want to.”

“Why?”

“If we start living together now, we won’t have that newlywed atmosphere when we get married later.”

I shouldn’t have asked.

Choi Yoon was about to ask where his parents were and if he had any other relatives, but he swallowed the questions. He’s young. Not even twenty yet. Though his height had shot up like an overgrown barley sprout and his shaved chin was dark blue, he was clearly still a child.

If he had parents, why would they leave a child alone in the countryside like this? It didn’t make sense.

“Ah, it’s really too much, right? My parents.”

Choi Yoon was slightly startled to have his thoughts pierced through.

On the other hand, he felt uneasy wondering how often he must have received similar looks to react so accurately to the core.

“I just said I’d come here. Because grandmother might be lonely alone. My parents are in Seoul.”

“Even so, how can they send a child alone?”

“I’m not a child. I’ll be an adult next year.”

Choi Yoon didn’t even have the strength to nod. Something like anger was welling up inside him.

“It seemed like both my parents didn’t want to see me. They say they wouldn’t have even gotten married if it weren’t for me. They didn’t want to raise me or take care of grandmother, so they bundled us together and dumped us in the countryside.”

“Are your parents divorced?”

“They desperately want to. But they don’t have money.”

Because the premise that poverty could be an obstacle to divorce was unfamiliar, Choi Yoon blankly stared at Han Seo Jung.

He’d heard of rich people faking divorce for tax evasion, but…

Scooping up a mouthful of rice and chewing, Han Seo Jung suddenly looked over. Seeing Choi Yoon’s expression, Han Seo Jung gulped down the rice.

“Do you know how expensive divorce is for poor people? You need at least two houses to start with, no, houses are expensive. At least one person needs to have enough cash on hand to pay rent and live separately, right?”

Han Seo Jung clicked his tongue as if he couldn’t believe he had to explain this.

That’s right. Choi Yoon was at a loss for words. I see. You need at least two houses.

It’s not that Choi Yoon had never experienced divorce. He’d done it several times in dramas.

In many cases, they realized their love and successfully reconciled, and once he even stalked and harmed his ex-partner.

However, in all those situations, there were no financial constraints, so he had never considered the case of being forced to stay together because there wasn’t money to get another house.

Truly concerned that Han Seo Jung’s feelings might be hurt, Choi Yoon carefully asked.

“Isn’t it hard being alone?”

“It’s not as bad as you might think. The villagers all look after me and help out. Sometimes I get calls from three or four houses at once telling me to come over for meals. So it’s not hard. What’s really hard is not being able to play baseball.”

As if he didn’t want to be asked why he couldn’t play, Han Seo Jung started quickly shoveling rice into his mouth.

Choi Yoon hadn’t even opened his share of the lunchbox. His mind was so troubled that what little appetite he had was disappearing.

Han Seo Jung chewed and swallowed his rice, then asked. His voice was flat, without expectation.

“Want to stay over?”

Hearing words he usually heard from women come from the mouth of a much younger man felt strange.

“No.”

Han Seo Jung paused sorting out carrots with his spoon and said as if he just remembered.

“Ah, right. Noona said something. That you wanted to film me living here too? Is today a preliminary survey? She said it was something like that.”

“Similar.”

But now Choi Yoon was no longer certain. If Han Seo Jung’s solitary living situation became known, it could change his relationships at school. Choi Yoon didn’t want that.

“Your face will be known nationwide, like Tae Rin. If you don’t want that, we can proceed without including you.”

“I don’t mind at all. Since it’s something that helps the village, feel free to film and broadcast as you like. I doubt anyone would be interested in me though.”

Han Seo Jung pushed aside the empty lunchbox and slipped his feet into the sneakers he had taken off below the porch. The heels of the sneakers were terribly crushed.

“I’ll show you my room.”

Han Seo Jung flung open that door that had been ajar and gestured for him to come in.

“You only use this room?”

“Yes. I don’t really use the other areas.”

“Why?”

“Just. Because it’s a little scary. I used to live here with grandmother, but now she’s gone. It suddenly feels like the house has become too big. Anyway…”

Han Seo Jung hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“…There’s something I want to show you.”