Chapter 92: Unsecured network (6)

Part 11

“You’ve done cosplay, wear makeup, and all that—aren’t you embarrassed by skirts?” Sihyun asked.

“There’s pants underneath. No need for a mosaic even if it shows,” I replied.

“…You know real life doesn’t come with mosaics, right?” he said.

“I mean it’s decent enough that showing a bit wouldn’t cause a scene,” I clarified.

His odd expression met my cautious, hushed reply as he stood beside me. This guy, who said he wasn’t working today, was inexplicably in uniform, standing side by side with me. Why?

“Show me,” he teased.

“Are you cra—?!” I started, catching myself mid-shout, mindful of the customers. Clenching my teeth, I shot him a glare. His smug grin showed he was enjoying this far too much.

Distracted by his expression, my hands trembled with irritation. I turned away, forcing a neutral face—couldn’t exactly scowl in front of customers.

A brief silence followed. As my boiling frustration cooled under the air conditioner’s gentle breeze, a strange sense of déjà vu hit me amid the bakery’s bread-scented air. I just heard something from him I definitely shouldn’t have.

“…Wait, what did you say?” I asked.

“Bit slow on the uptake, huh?” he replied.

“What did you just say?” I pressed.

“That I really wanted to see that expression?” he said.

I shook my head quickly. The part that slipped by wasn’t something I wanted to dwell on, but I clung to a faint hope he’d deny it. A jumble of lukewarm feelings coalesced into a shaky voice as I continued.

“…The part after that,” I said.

His blank look turned mischievous in an instant. Regret crept in too late, but I had to ask, desperate to negate the thought creeping into my mind.

“Oh, that it’s different seeing you in person compared to on cam? Jeokranun-ssi,” he said.

Heat rushed to my head, dizzying me. I’d heard people could feel faint from anger, but I never imagined embarrassment could make me feel like collapsing. My ears burned. I slumped against the counter, burying my face in my hands, mumbling.

“…Since when have you been watching?” I asked.

“You acted like you didn’t know when I mentioned the piano, so I wondered. Did you really not notice back then?” he said.

Oh, that time. When I suggested learning vocal techniques. Why didn’t I catch on then? Someone watching me, cheering “Yoonseo, kill it!” while I smiled faintly, almost amused, at the chat. Someone who knew I was a man inside, despite being neither a friend nor a doctor, had seen it?

“…Yoonseo-ssi?” he called.

Maybe he only saw a recording, not live. I hadn’t played piano recently. Wait, did I mention piano? I don’t think I said I could play much. But whether live or recorded, does it matter? Should I have turned off auto-recording? Is it even a big deal now?

“Yoonseo-ssi,” he repeated.

Either way, the fact he saw it was the issue. With his personality, he’d tease me about my streams every time we met. What do I do? At least we’d rarely cross paths at work. But we’d still meet twice a week for lessons. If I left him alone and he spiraled again, then what? But still…

“Yoonseo-ssi!” he shouted.

“Why?! This is your fault!” I snapped, lifting my buried face.

My face still burned. His reluctant expression met mine, and then—a customer, looking… confused? Awkward?

“…Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Oh… no, it’s fine…” the customer replied.

I apologized impulsively, unsure what to say. The customer’s voice, heavy with complex emotions, felt like a final blow to my crumbling composure.

“…Can I pay with a card?” they asked.

“Yes…” I replied.

Selling the item was a small mercy, I suppose. I wasn’t sure. I didn’t really want to know.

Part 12

“…You and Yoonseo seem close,” Youngjin said.

“Well, sunbae-nim, we’ve only recently met, but our relationship’s a bit complicated—hard to explain briefly with my poor speaking skills,” Sihyun replied.

After Yoonseo, visibly shaken, excused herself to rest, a man appeared almost immediately, as if taking her place. Sihyun recognized him—Yoonseo’s friend, the son of the bakery’s owners, someone she’d known for a while. His name hadn’t come up yet.

“By the way, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Choi Sihyun. I start today, so please take care of me,” Sihyun said.

“No need for ‘sunbae.’ My parents handle the important stuff, so my work’s not much different from yours or Yoonseo’s. I’m Park Youngjin,” he replied.

“Still, you’re someone I’ll learn from for a while. Does it bother you?” Sihyun asked.

“…Not really,” Youngjin said.

“Then let me keep it up. It’s just more comfortable for me,” Sihyun said.

Man or woman, same or opposite sex, earning someone’s favor followed a consistent pattern: politeness, respect, a moderate smile, and subtly but noticeably uplifting the other person. Seeing Youngjin’s reluctant smile, Sihyun responded with a faint one.

“You seem worried about Yoonseo-ssi,” Sihyun observed.

“She’s… kind of a worrisome person,” Youngjin admitted.

“You’re not denying it? Most people would reflexively say no out of embarrassment when asked about someone they like,” Sihyun said.

“She’s… unique. Doesn’t make you think that way,” Youngjin replied.

Sihyun didn’t know why, but he wanted to see Yoonseo’s face. That was a reason, sure, but not the only one. It held significant weight, and he didn’t bother denying it. There was just a slightly bigger reason.

“She’s so pretty and has a great personality. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find her attractive, right?” Sihyun asked.

“You didn’t come here for that, did you?” Youngjin countered.

“Haha, of course not,” Sihyun laughed.

Sihyun didn’t believe in inherent human goodness. His life had been filled with relationships driven by self-interest. So, Yoonseo was a rare type—a genuinely kind person. Dr. Kang had a job and got paid, so his kindness was professional duty. But Yoonseo? She showed kindness without expecting anything, likely never would, and that puzzled Sihyun.

“You don’t want to share your reasons, I guess. Well, I’m in a similarly odd relationship with her. Not here to make a move or anything,” Sihyun said.

“Why hide that you know Yoonseo during the interview?” Youngjin asked.

“As I said, our relationship’s too complicated to explain in detail,” Sihyun replied.

Looking at Yoonseo didn’t provide answers. So, Sihyun thought to examine her circle. People attract their own kind, shaped by their environment. If humans are so easily influenced, studying her friends would reveal much.

“I don’t want to explain either. It’s not something to broadcast. We’re just… not interested in being more than friends. Too much like friends to imagine otherwise,” Youngjin said.

Sihyun’s smile deepened. Despite Youngjin’s stoic front, Sihyun could sense the complex emotions underneath. That alone gave him half the certainty he needed. This guy bottled up his feelings, unwilling to express them.

He wouldn’t go blabbing to Yoonseo about what I asked or how I acted.

“I see,” Sihyun said.

Taking the job for easy access was proving to be a great choice. No need to dig into distant acquaintances—just her friends would suffice. Meeting someone this convenient right off the bat was pure luck.

“But, sunbae-nim,” Sihyun said.

When it came to personality in relationships, hard evidence wasn’t always necessary. This guy could handle a bit of probing, maybe even aggressive. To understand the kind of people around Yoonseo, their core traits, Youngjin was perfect.

“You’re not denying Yoonseo-ssi’s incredibly attractive,” Sihyun said.

He smiled—a rare moment where his mask and true feelings aligned.