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“What nonsense.”
Eun-yoo lightly punched Joo-hyuk’s shoulder with her fist.
“Now that the urgent matter is resolved, I’ll prepare a counter-article. We can’t just sit idly by when a rocket is clearly headed our way.”
“Right.”
He nodded.
“When you get a chance, arrange for me to meet Sena.”
“Yeah, soon.”
“No, tomorrow evening. How about it?”
“Huh? Tomorrow?”
Surprised by her sudden suggestion, Joo-hyuk hesitated, but Eun-yoo nodded firmly.
“I need a change of pace. Let’s meet.”
“Alright, understood.”
After hearing his response, she left with a determined expression.
Though she had said she needed a change of pace, the subject wasn’t just herself. It was also a way to comfort him, whose shoulders seemed weighed down.
Understanding her intentions, he watched her leave with gratitude before sitting back down.
Until Secretary Park entered and stood beside him, Joo-hyuk quietly reflected on everything that had happened from the founding of KMS to the present moment.
After seeing off the housekeeper who was leaving for the day, Sena spotted Joo-hyuk sitting on the living room sofa, flipping through TV channels to check the news on various networks.
“Are you looking for something in particular?”
She sat beside him and asked.
“Huh?”
“You seem especially focused on the news today.”
“Oh, no.”
He smiled as he answered, but something about his vague response lingered in her mind.
Recently, he had seemed troubled, and she suspected it was related to the broadcasting station.
Still, she couldn’t ask. They had an unspoken agreement not to inquire or answer questions about work-related matters.
“Did everything go well with your client?”
“Yes, thankfully.”
A few hours earlier, after dropping Misun off at her home, Sena had lingered outside her house for a while, listening intently.
It was out of concern that Misun might suffer some kind of harm at the hands of her parents, but to her relief, there was no sound from inside the house.
The indifference—akin to psychological violence without physical or verbal abuse—was unsettling, but Sena felt reassured. At least this night would pass quietly.
“Come to the office tomorrow evening.”
“Why?”
“We’re having dinner with Eun-yoo and her partner.”
“Eun-yoo? The editor-in-chief…?”
Joo-hyuk nodded.
Sena had been curious about Eun-yoo, his close friend and co-founder of KMS.
Still, the thought of another woman knowing aspects of the man she loved that she didn’t know nagged at her.
“Alright. Sounds good.”
“When you meet Eun-yoo and her partner tomorrow, you might be surprised.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Just… be mentally prepared. You might be quite shocked.”
Why? Was there a large age gap? Or was it a scandalous relationship?
Since she generally avoided prying into others’ private lives, she simply tilted her head in curiosity and didn’t ask further.
At that moment, a news report caught her ear.
[Even though the victim acted in self-defense, the fact that the perpetrator ended up dead has sparked debate. Should this be seen as self-defense, or does it constitute another crime?]
Sena frowned as she absentmindedly watched the news.
This was a new perspective on a recent case where the perpetrator had died during an act of self-defense by the victim.
Opinions were divided: some argued it was self-defense since the victim was protecting themselves, while others claimed that if the victim had enough strength to kill, they could have avoided harm in the first place.
“What nonsense…”
She was so exasperated that words failed her. This was something only victims could truly understand.
“Sena?”
“Does that make any sense? The victim was trying to protect themselves, and the perpetrator ended up dead—how can they treat the victim like a criminal?”
Sena clenched her fists tightly.
“Still, someone died.”
“Do you even know what that perpetrator did?”
“I do.”
“Then how can you call that person human?”
She was so angry she felt like smoke was rising from the top of her head.
Seeing Joo-hyuk’s startled expression, she finally came back to her senses, but her anger still simmered.
“It’s the role of the news to present different perspectives. Of course, I don’t particularly like that channel’s tendency—it’s always been a bit off.”
“What about KMS’s stance?”
“Huh?”
She hadn’t meant to sound confrontational, but since she’d already asked, she wanted an answer.
“Is KMS on the side of the victim or the perpetrator?”
“There’s no such thing.”
“No… such thing?”
Her voice trailed off weakly, tinged with disappointment.
“Until there’s a legal verdict, labeling someone as a perpetrator doesn’t necessarily mean they’re guilty. At least, that’s how KMS operates.”
“What do you mean? Even in cases where it’s clearly a crime, not some tangled mess like this?”
“As journalists, we’re required to remain neutral. My personal opinions must be kept separate from the articles.”
It sounded like he was saying that Choi Joo-hyuk, the individual, and KMS, the media company, were distinct entities—but Sena, still fuming, couldn’t fully grasp his reasoning.
“I can’t understand that.”
“It’s because appearances and the underlying truth often differ.”
Even as Sena seethed before him, Joo-hyuk remained calm.
“Differ from appearances?”
“Just because someone looks like a victim now doesn’t mean they truly are. After the trial progresses and more details emerge, it might turn out that the ‘victim’ is actually the perpetrator. But by then, people will have already lost interest and moved on to the next big story.”
“So what?”
Sena leaned back slightly from where she had been sitting close to Joo-hyuk, her tone sharp as she pressed him for clarification.
Despite her reaction, his expression didn’t change as he continued.
“What KMS strives for is reporting that maintains neutrality from the start and follows through until the conclusion of the case.”
“Hmm…”
Even in her heated state, Sena could understand what Joo-hyuk was saying. It was the kind of journalistic integrity everyone hoped for, and it explained why KMS was beloved by its audience.
“Are you calmer now?”
“…A little.”
“Then will you come sit closer to me again?”
At Joo-hyuk’s request, Sena blushed but scooted back close to him.
He pulled her shoulder into his embrace.
“Don’t worry. KMS will thoroughly investigate that case from beginning to end.”
“Okay.”
Feeling his gentle hand stroking her hair, Sena nodded.
Though she felt embarrassed for losing her temper over something that seemed trivial, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in acting childishly around him.
How long had it been since she’d acted so openly affectionate with someone? The thought made her shoulders tense with shyness, and he softly kissed the top of her head.
By then, the TV had moved on from the news to commercials.
“It’s been a while, Miss Sena.”
“Yes, it has, Director.”
“Director? No, just call me Eun-yoo.”
Eun-yoo smiled brightly, grabbing Sena’s hand and shaking it enthusiastically up and down.
Though this was only their second meeting, Sena immediately warmed to Eun-yoo, feeling as though they had known each other for years. Of course, the fact that Eun-yoo was close to Joo-hyuk likely played a part in that.
“This is my… girlfriend, Ju Ha-yeon.”
“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The woman Eun-yoo introduced was delicate, with a pretty face, long wavy hair, and a beauty so striking she could have stepped straight out of a comic book.
But… girlfriend?
So this was what Joo-hyuk meant last night when he said she’d be surprised meeting Eun-yoo and her partner.
“Nice to meet you too. I’m Kang Sena.”
Sena was momentarily surprised but quickly smiled and greeted Ha-yeon.
However, she did shoot a subtle glare at Joo-hyuk, who was sitting nearby with a satisfied smile on his face.
“Did you get quite a shock?”
After moving to the Han River Park for some coffee by the riverside—Joo-hyuk and Eun-yoo having left to grab drinks—Ha-yeon asked.
“Yes, a little.”
With no reason to hide it, Sena answered honestly.
“It would be strange if I wasn’t surprised, right?”
“Joo-hyuk said you wouldn’t judge us strangely, and he was right.”
“Huh?”
“Apparently, Joo-hyuk told Eun-yoo that you’re not the type of person who would judge us oddly.”
“Ah…”
She didn’t know when that conversation had taken place, but Sena felt a small sense of joy knowing that Joo-hyuk saw her as someone without prejudice.
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me… Most people don’t react the way you do.”
“Really?”
“Most either get angry, hurl insults, or try to ‘save’ us.”
“Save you?”
The word puzzled her.
When she questioned it further, Ha-yeon gave a wry smile.
“They think we’re sinners.”
“Ah…”
Sena understood immediately.
There were many in the world who couldn’t comprehend or accept differences in ideology, beliefs, or religion. She could vividly imagine how Eun-yoo and Ha-yeon might have been treated by such people.
“I suppose I’ve always been open-minded about these things, but my job has also influenced me. I meet a lot of different people because of it.”
“Ah, right! You work in psychological counseling, right?”
“Yes, though I mainly focus on teenagers.”
“That’s amazing—to heal mental wounds like that.”
Ha-yeon spoke with genuine admiration.
But Sena thought to herself: What I do isn’t really that impressive.
When she first told Joo-hyuk about her job, he had reacted similarly.
“How unique.”
She vividly remembered the curious gaze he had given her back then.
“What about you, Ha-yeon? What do you do?”
“Oh, I’m a dancer.”
“A dancer?”
“I majored in contemporary dance.”
“Wow, that’s incredible!”
Sena raised her thumb in admiration. Her initial impression of Ha-yeon—that she looked like someone who had stepped out of a comic book—must have stemmed from the graceful aura of a dancer.
Having no personal connection to dance and never having met a professional dancer before, Sena’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
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