IT - 3

3. Deepening with Impure Intentions  

At twenty, during her freshman year, Ji-soo had fallen head over heels for Tae-ha the moment he appeared in her life like the first bloom of spring. As she had said, most female classmates back then felt the same way. Ten years had passed since then—ten long, foolish years—but Ji-soo’s feelings remained frozen in place, just as they had been on that day. 

Ten years ago, Ji-soo had mistakenly believed that Tae-ha was the eldest son of a poor family after a misunderstanding at the school store. Looking back now, it was an embarrassingly baseless assumption. There were days when the clothes and shoes he wore amounted to hundreds of millions of won. When she first met him, even seeing his expensive car hadn’t shaken her hopeful misinterpretation of him. 

Because if he were similar to her—if he came from humble beginnings—it would give her the courage to approach him. But despite her bold confession years ago, delivered with trembling confidence, she had been coldly rejected by him, the man named Cha Tae-ha. And yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t let go of him. 

Even knowing full well that he existed in a realm far beyond her reach, where no amount of jumping could catch his attention, she still couldn’t bring herself to abandon her one-sided love. 

Tae-ha’s gaze grew increasingly insistent, pressing her for an answer. 

“That was ten years ago. Now… there’s no way.” 

Her voice carried an air of obviousness, paired with a meticulously polite smile—the kind of expression Ji-soo adopted whenever she wanted to hide something or mask her true feelings. 

“Thank you for taking the time today, Executive Director.” 

Feeling awkward and embarrassed under his steady gaze, Ji-soo broke eye contact and offered a formal farewell. It was time to send him off to his next appointment. 

“Have you decided to renew your contract?” 

Caught off guard by his sudden return to business-like tone, Ji-soo nodded. So even the Vice President of the Innovation Strategy Division cared about employees’ contract renewals? 

“Yes.” 

“For how long?” 

“Two years.” 

“Why?” 

Though the company had initially offered her a permanent position, specifying a term had been Ji-soo’s request. 

“If a better opportunity comes along while I’m working here, I might want to take it.” 

Tae-ha’s thick, neatly groomed eyebrows twitched sharply. She hadn’t meant to provoke him—it wasn’t that. She simply didn’t want him to realize that the reason she’d stayed was because of him. 

“The interview is over, so you don’t need to keep up appearances now?” 

It was a pointed reference to the answer she had mimicked earlier. 

“No, Executive Director. You have your next appointment to attend to…” 

“Tonight, come back to that place we were at earlier.” 

“Huh?” 

“I’m the type who returns what I’ve received on the same day—it’s urgent.” 

With that, Tae-ha turned and left the studio, leaving Ji-soo blinking in confusion. 

Would he really come? He must be too busy, right? Then why did he suddenly ask to meet again? 

As Ji-soo walked toward the snack bar alley, alternating between vowing not to feel disappointed if he didn’t show up and secretly hoping he would, half-hearted excitement bubbled within her. This path, which she had always walked alone, now seemed charged with anticipation. 

The meal they had shared earlier felt like a reward from the heavens for all her secret pining over the past ten years. Still, Ji-soo had no intention of going home just yet, clinging to the lingering warmth of having dined with Tae-ha. Even if he didn’t appear, she resolved not to feel disheartened. 

Pitter-patter. Raindrops began to fall, one by one, onto her fluttering heart. Whenever it rained around this time of year before spring arrived, she inevitably caught a cold. It was also around this time that she had first seen Tae-ha. 

Back then, Ji-soo hadn’t been able to openly celebrate receiving her university acceptance letter or share the news with anyone to receive congratulations. Instead, she had to hide the fact that she was attending college altogether. 

“Why does our daughter even bother going to university? No matter how much money you throw into studying, those kids never break even! Our Ji-soo doesn’t need college—she takes after me and is beautiful enough to win men over with her face and figure instead of her brains.” 

Thanks to her mother’s loud declaration during a high school counseling session, Ji-soo had quietly vowed alongside her perceptive homeroom teacher to keep her admission a secret until everything was finalized. Her mother, dressed in a miniskirt and a tight blouse that revealed far too much cleavage, had strutted around the counseling office like she was auditioning for a beauty pageant. The crude remarks she made to the teacher mirrored her inappropriate outfit. 

Perhaps that was why Ji-soo had wanted to visit the campus before officially starting university. Wrapping her worn coat tightly around herself, she wandered briskly across the vast school grounds. 

“Ah, it’s raining. I don’t have an umbrella.” 

As the previously overcast sky darkened and rain poured down unexpectedly, Ji-soo searched for shelter. Amidst the bustling crowd, her eyes locked onto the towering figure of a man. Like a newborn bird instinctively following the first person it sees, Ji-soo found herself drawn to him without hesitation. 

On the threshold of entering the adult world, she instinctively gravitated toward this stranger she had just met. She didn’t know that his car would be the only thing waiting at their destination. 

Even as her coat shoulders soaked through, his movements remained graceful and unhurried. His long strides carried him forward like a dancer gliding across the stage. Just as he opened the driver’s side door, Tae-ha glanced at the shivering student colliding with the rain, teeth chattering uncontrollably. 

In the humid, dimming air, their gazes met—a fleeting but charged connection. His deepening, impure eyes traced the smooth, pale contours of her face, following the rivulets of water rolling down her skin. 

He noticed her pitiful coat, more ragged than stylish, but then spotted the school uniform layered underneath. Without a word, he retrieved an umbrella from his car and held it out to her. Though it looked excessively heavy for her frail frame, she accepted it. 

It was the largest, sturdiest umbrella Ji-soo had ever seen—impenetrable to even a single drop of rain. The man placed her hand on the handle, then turned and left. 

Lost in the memory of that first encounter, Ji-soo raised her head—and there, sitting exactly where he had been ten years ago, was that same man. 

He had really come.

Soon, a plate of vibrant three-color pancakes—chive, kimchi, and mung bean—arrived, taking up space on the table. The restaurant owner, who had been bustling around with the dishes, also placed a dented yellow kettle in front of them.

Whoosh— A torrential downpour began to lash against the roof behind the two seated side by side. Tae-ha picked up the kettle and poured makgeolli into a bowl for Ji-soo.

“So this is how you drink it? Alone here?”

Bubbling, bubbling. From the look of the frothy bubbles rising to the surface, it seemed the drink was mixed half-and-half with soda and makgeolli, just as Ji-soo usually enjoyed it.

“The soda-makgeolli mix is my secret recipe, but it seems Auntie told you about it. Aren’t you going to drink, Executive Director?”

Ji-soo asked as she noticed Tae-ha holding a cup filled with traditional rice wine.

“Han Ji-soo tends to dodge difficult questions by asking another one instead.”

Though Ji-soo had caught on that Tae-ha’s focus was on her solitary drinking habit, she brushed it off with a faint smile.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come here.”

Earlier, Ji-soo had heard from his schedule secretary that after the forum ended, there would be a formal dinner. Did that mean he had come specifically to see her? To see her. Ji-soo sent her earnest wish riding on the rhythm of the raindrops pounding the roof.

Tae-ha clinked his glass against the bowl of makgeolli in her hands and then spoke.

“Guess you haven’t heard the rumors about me being good at keeping promises?”

“You don’t care about what others say or your reputation anyway.”

What kind of day was this? First, she ate a meal with Tae-ha, and now they were sharing drinks in the evening. Ji-soo sipped her makgeolli while listening to the steady pitter-patter of rain on the roof. It tasted unusually sweet today. Perhaps it was because she was with Tae-ha that everything felt sweeter.

“I might start paying more attention to evaluations from now on.”

The rumors surrounding Tae-ha were so extreme that even those unfamiliar with him found them hard to believe. Tales of him being impotent, gay, or indulging in deviant sexual practices swirled around him.

As Ji-soo recalled these absurd rumors, none of which matched the man sitting before her now, she let out a soft chuckle and emptied her second bowl. His mention of “from now on” likely referred to the strategic marriage alliance he was embarking upon.

“Why drink alone? Call me next time.”

His invitation sounded almost like a duel challenge. Was she already tipsy after just two bowls?

Pfft, Ji-soo couldn’t help but burst into laughter. If she didn’t know better, she might have mistaken his words for flirtation.

“Really? When I feel like drinking and no one’s around, can I call you, Executive Director?”

Instead of answering, Tae-ha simply gazed at Ji-soo, whose demeanor swayed lightly with the alcohol. His deepening expression made it seem as though he had rushed over just to answer her call.

“But you don’t drink, do you? Look, I’m the only one drinking here.”

Ji-soo raised her glass to his untouched rice wine and gulped down more makgeolli.

“I’m worried I won’t be able to handle myself if I get drunk.”

“No way! Even when I drink a lot, I stay calm and composed! I’m a seasoned drinker—I can handle anything.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about—it’s me. I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself.”

Distracted by pouring the last drops of makgeolli from the kettle, Ji-soo missed the end of his sentence and let out a soft laugh as she glanced at Tae-ha. The more awkward or embarrassed she felt, the broader her smile became.

Tae-ha pushed the still-warm plate of three-color pancakes toward her.

“Don’t drink on an empty stomach—you’ll suffer tomorrow. Eat something while you drink.”

“Yes!”

Though she was indeed thirsty for alcohol, Ji-soo hurriedly drank the makgeolli to avoid the intensity of Tae-ha’s piercing gaze. It was far easier to steal glances at him unnoticed than to sit under his direct scrutiny. Her chopstick movements slicing through the pancake lacked confidence.

Tae-ha, with his long, firm fingers gripping the chopsticks, tore the pancakes into bite-sized pieces with precision, each piece cut as neatly as if done with scissors.

“You’re really skilled with chopsticks. And the shapes are beautiful too. Thank you for the food.”

“I’m good at other things done with my hands too.”

He spoke as if demonstrating the principle: You talk; I eat. Watching Ji-soo nibble on the perfectly cooled pancakes, Tae-ha’s lips curved softly into a smile. She was someone who couldn’t multitask well.

“If you treat women this nicely, they’ll misunderstand you—think you have ulterior motives.”

“Would that misunderstanding be wrong?”

When Ji-soo responded seriously to his light-hearted remark, she looked up at him. Misunderstanding too deeply would only lead to heartbreak. Of course, it wouldn’t be right.

Being with him felt like soaring through a clear blue sky. But soon enough, the bird flying joyfully would crash into the harsh walls of reality. Ji-soo swallowed the words she couldn’t bring herself to say.

“Han Ji-soo seems to understand men’s psychology well?”

She hadn’t dated anyone, but she knew Cha Tae-ha inside out—after all, she’d spent ten years watching him. Ji-soo was an expert in unrequited love. She understood how fleeting opinions and emotions passed over his indifferent face, and what consequences awaited if her feelings were ever discovered.

“Of course. I’ve had plenty of men.”

A subtle flicker of irritation crossed Tae-ha’s otherwise composed expression. Oblivious to this change, Ji-soo absentmindedly stabbed at the three-color pancakes with her chopsticks.