Ong's Ongsimi House

"Huh? Wait. Isn't that her boyfriend?"

At Lee Hyeok's words, Dae-han turned his gaze back into the dark and studied the man and woman there as if he meant to take them apart.

Ong So-yul stood with her arms folded. The scrawny little bastard in front of her suddenly caught her by the shoulder. She frowned, shook the hand off, and stepped away as if she meant to escape him. They were coming toward the alley, and the conversation carried.

"What exactly are you doing, showing up at someone else's department dinner?"

"You wouldn't answer my calls. I got worried, so I came looking."

"When a person doesn't pick up, there are two reasons. Either they can't take the call, or they don't want to. Your calls were the second kind, Senior."

"So-yul, think back to when we interned together. We leaned on each other, and love started to grow. Wasn't that what it was?"

"If you imagined a sprout had come up, kindly cut it off. I was never any such thing. I have never once thought of you as a man."

She said it in a tone that left nothing to negotiate.

"Oh—that guy's a neurosurgery resident. He's trailing Dr. Ong because he's into her."

"Figures. And listen to that rejection. Fierce. Right up there with Seo Yoon-ah the guillotine. I'm getting PTSD."

So Joo-won and Lee Hyeok talked as they watched the pair in front of them.

"Kang Dae-han. Where are you going?"

He had already endured more than enough. Dae-han started toward the woman.

"Ong So-yul."

"Oh? Dr. Kang!"

Relief broke across her face, bright as if she had just found a savior.

"What are you doing, not running that errand?"

He had handed her an excuse to peel the leech off, and the clever girl's head bobbed at once.

"I'm sorry!"

She scurried straight away from the neurosurgery beanpole and came toward him. He very nearly put out an arm to welcome her.

"Ah, good evening. I didn't realize the orthopedic fellows were here. Ha..."

Dae-han curled his itching fingers into a fist and looked at him. A face like a man who had never had a proper meal in his life had gone stiff.

"Right. This is an Orthopedic Surgery dinner. So why is some bastard from another unit here muddying the water? Isn't Neurosurgery eating at a sashimi house?"

"Sorry? Ah, that's—"

"Return to your own unit. Execute."

At the low, crushing command, the scrawny bastard turned and fled in a scramble of short steps.

"Did you call for a driver?"

The timing was perfect. The designated driver had found him. Dae-han handed over the keys, opened the rear door, and tipped his chin at the chick whose great round eyes were wheeling.

"Get in."

"What? Right now?"

"You said you were off to run an errand. Where did all that nerve go—the nerve that swore a little drink wouldn't get in the way of the work?"

"Ah—yes, sir! Understood."

What's she so damn chipper for. So-yul answered in a bright, ringing voice and climbed in, and Kang Dae-han took the seat beside her.

After the car pulled away, Lee Hyeok and So Joo-won looked at each other. Lee Hyeok, cradling the bag of ice cream meant for the people back at the hospital, spoke first.

"You see Kang Dae-han's eyes?"

"Yeah. That bastard's locked onto something."

"When Kang Dae-han snaps..."

"He turns into the craziest son of a bitch alive. Why do you think they called him the Crazy Doctor? Fuck. Chills."

"Locked onto what, though? Don't tell me a woman. Kang Dae-han, and a woman?"

"He put her in the car. Dead serious. First time I've ever seen it."

The two of them stared after the tail of the car, looking a little dazed.

The moment he was in the car, Dae-han pressed the seat warmer so the cushion beneath Ong So-yul would heat.

"Thank you."

It was only March, but to So-yul, who ran cold, the night still felt like winter. Worse, ever since that man had grabbed her shoulder, her fingertips had been trembling as if a chill had settled into them. He was a med-school senior she had interned with, and he kept clinging to her like a stalker. How many times had she shut his confession down cold now? He simply would not hear it.

"If that bastard pulls it again, tell me. I don't tolerate anyone harassing people under my command."

The words came steady from Kang Dae-han, seated beside her.

The Jeep was enormous, and still the back seat felt packed, because Dae-han himself was simply that large. Even Dr. Kang's sides are huge. The thought arrived as her eyes traveled over his body with a nearly anatomical attention. There was no private design in the look, but the moment their gazes caught, her earlobes went warm.

"Thank you for saying that."

"If you're thankful, give me the address. The driver's waiting."

So-yul tipped her head. Weren't they going to the hospital? She had been certain he would plant her at his side and set her to digging up stacks of papers. What he wanted was her home address.

"If you mean to see me home, I'm all right. I'm not drunk. Let me out here and I can get there myself."

"I'm the one who's drunk."

He set his head against the headrest and looked at her, slow and loose.

She had felt it from the first time they met. He carried the image of a career soldier, a man's man through and through, and yet something languid and ungoverned lived in him at the same time. It showed even more outside the residents' office. The soldier who bore down without mercy on anything that touched a patient vanished, and what surfaced in ordinary hours was a wolf gone slack in an open field. Maybe it was the way he spoke half a beat slow, the eyes whose meaning was hard to read, the face that turned gentle whenever a short laugh escaped him.

There's a beauty in the contradiction of him.

"If you're drunk, why are you taking me home?"

"The world's a rough place."

"..."

"And going home alone is a little scary."

"You are not built like a man who frightens easily."

What could possibly scare someone who looked ready to drop a wild boar with his bare hands? A laugh slipped out of So-yul before she could stop it.

"Address."

"Then the shop, please. Yongmun-dong."

A glance at the clock told her it was about the hour her mother closed up. Better to stop in and walk home together. Her fool of a brother had insisted they had to sell drinks if they wanted to make any money, and because of that her mother was worn thin late into the night. So-yul couldn't simply stand by and watch.

"Eat. Dr. Ong, who is not drunk."

What came out of the man's pants pocket was a soda-flavored ice pop. He tore the wrapper himself and even snapped the tip open, so there was no refusing it. It had softened just enough that she didn't have to bite down hard. Maybe the alcohol was catching up to her late. She opened her mouth wide and sucked at the ice cream with loud, wet sounds, and then, all at once, grew curious about that pocket of his—the one that seemed to produce anything.

"Doctor, why does your pocket have everything in it?"

Milk, juice, and now an ice pop. She ducked her head and stared at the pocket, and there it was, plain as day: one more.

"Oh, you've got one too. Why aren't you eating it? Let's eat together! It'll melt."

"Dr. Ong."

Huh? The ice pop's getting bigger. Why? So-yul cocked her head, then looked up at him.

Eyes dark as a black hole gleamed even in the dark. That sharp gaze caught her breath—and he leaned in, the words arriving at her ear in a low voice gone just a little rough.

"Ahh—!"

The instant she understood, the body that had been leaning in shot backward. She plastered her back flat to the seat and whipped her face toward the window.

"Dr. Ong does seem to have a habit of wondering what's inside other people's clothes."

"I do not."

"I think you do."

"I said I don't!"

Huffing, she bit down on the blameless ice cream.

Before long they turned into a familiar alley.

The sign buzzed, its light shuddering on and off where the wiring had gone bad. So-yul grabbed the handle and got out at once.

"Thank you for bringing me! I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor!"

She bowed a perfect ninety degrees and slammed the door. Then she slipped into the ongsimi shop as if she meant to hide, and watched Kang Dae-han's car pull away.

She hadn't noticed earlier, but the car was beautiful—a hard-edged Jeep a celebrity might have stepped out of. She stared blankly as it left the alley. Thinking of the man who suited that car far too well brought a certain embarrassing part of him back to mind.

"Who's that?"

"Aack!"

A hand clapped her shoulder, and So-yul jolted so hard the scream tore out of her.

"Why are you so startled?"

"Ong Jun-soo!"

She spun around. Ong Jun-soo was right there, pushing his pale face in close.