Handyman on the Roof

"Hand me the pliers over there."

Yun-seo passed them over with a look of mild displeasure, and he took the tool in his grip like he'd been doing this his whole life. He fiddled with the wires behind the television a few times, then glanced up at her.

"Is there a ladder? The antenna could use some work too."

"You're going up on the roof? In that condition?"

"Yes."

"No way, your wounds will reopen. I'd better do it, actually—"

San rose from his crouch, dusted off his hands, and flashed a grin that pulled the corners of his mouth up high.

"Those pretty hands are for treating me and nothing else. Hard labor is a man's job."

"That's—still, how can a patient just—"

"Wounds heal fine with a dab of ointment. You saw for yourself—I'm good as new already. My recovery ability alone is top-tier. And with a gorgeous doctor watching over me, what is there to worry about?"

San rubbed his palms together with practiced charm, scanning the room, and finally spotted the ladder propped in the corner. He tucked it lightly under his arm and carried it outside.

The sight of him thumping the ladder against the outer wall of the clinic and securing it in place felt so natural it was uncanny—like a man who had lived here his entire life.

"Who on earth is this guy?"

As if under a spell, Yun-seo followed him out and gripped the ladder he'd set up with both hands.

How could he act this casual when his memory hadn't even come back? The grandmothers had been so wary of him, and yet there he was, breezing through it all with that easygoing smile of his. It was fascinating to the point of being downright eerie.

"Holding it or not makes no difference. Just check down there whether the TV signal comes through."

San climbed the ladder with brisk, confident steps and onto the roof, where he began fussing with the antenna. Apparently one of the mounting screws had come loose, because he called down.

"Doctor, do you have electrical tape up there? If so, toss the tape and a screw up here. Put some muscle into it."

"Sorry? Will it even reach you?"

"Throw it hard enough and I'll catch it."

It was clearly impossible, no matter how she looked at it. Yun-seo hesitated a moment, then gathered the supplies and climbed the ladder herself. When her leg swung up over the roofline and she crawled awkwardly onto the tiles, San's eyes went wide as saucers.

"Why on earth did you climb up here? You were supposed to just throw it."

"It didn't seem like it would reach."

When she held out her pocket, San sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ah, sorry. I was only thinking of myself there. Anyway—thanks."

He turned his attention back to the antenna.

Yun-seo watched him return to the repair, her behind perched precariously on the sloped roof tiles. More precisely, she was staring at his abdomen, which flexed and shifted beneath the clinic's patient gown every time he tightened a screw.

Moving around that busily and not tearing a single stitch—honestly impressive.

But surely all that strain had to be too much. She was furrowing her brow and leaning in for a closer look at his stomach when—

"That should do it. Have the grandmothers downstairs check once."

"……"

"I said to go check, yet here you are sneaking another look."

Tap, tap. The light knock of his knuckles on the roof tiles snapped Yun-seo back to her senses.

"Huh? You—already fixed?"

"Yep."

"Oh—w-wait, just a moment!"

Flustered, she spun around in a hurry—and that was the exact moment her foot slipped on the sloped tiles. Her balance gave way beneath her.

"Ah—!"

In the instant her body lurched, a hot, iron-hard grip snatched Yun-seo's wrist.

San's brow snapped into a frown as he hauled her over with crushing strength and settled her firmly at his side.

"Honestly. What are we going to do with a doctor who can't even keep her own body in one piece?"

She was too stunned to speak. Cold sweat slid down her spine at the realization of how close she'd come to tumbling straight off the roof.

"Slip like that again and you'll really hurt yourself. You're fragile as paper as it is, kid."

San clicked his tongue, then grabbed the loosened lace of Yun-seo's sneaker. His rough fingers moved in a few quick, deft strokes, and suddenly there was a neat, secure knot cinching her ankle snugly.

"No wonder you trip, walking around with your shoes this loose."

Tap, tap. He flicked playfully at the toe of her finished sneaker, then turned away without a second thought and finished arranging the antenna wire.

Yun-seo stayed frozen where she was, staring down at her own feet for a long while.

The weight of a man's grip pressing down over her sneaker, the heat that had spread across the top of her foot—she could feel it all traveling up her ankle and radiating through her entire body. Like a machine on the fritz, her heart thudded out of control.

"Those laces are going to wear out. Want me to check with them instead?"

"N-no, it's fine! I'll ask myself!"

Avoiding the eyes that met hers, Yun-seo cautiously leaned over the edge of the roof.

"Everyone! Would you try turning on the television?"

"Yes, yes! Of course!"

She'd only been half-believing this would work, but a moment later a chorus of delighted cheers erupted from beyond the clinic door.

"Ooh my, it comes in real clear! Shiny as brand-new! And look, the drama's starting right on time! Yun-seo, you hurry on down careful-like now, y'hear?"

It actually worked? Not having to pay to call a repairman from the mainland was unquestionably good news—but with this, the mystery of who that man really was only deepened further into fog.

When she turned back to him with a look tangled up in suspicion and wonder, San was stuffing the tools into his pockets, grinning.

"So? Falling for me a little?"

"Excuse me? As if—!"

At the sudden fastball of a line, Yun-seo shook her head violently, as if to say the very idea was absurd. San let out a theatrical sigh of genuine regret and cracked his neck from side to side.

"Ah. I'll have to try harder."

She had no idea how to answer that, and while her mouth opened and closed uselessly, San was already moving toward the ladder.

"I'm starving. Let's get down. Not that looking at your face doesn't fill me up on its own, but corn's no good once it goes cold."

"……After you."

"Fair enough. I should hold the ladder steady for you from below anyway. One wrong step and you'd snap in half."

When told not to do something, he did actually refrain—but the ticklish nonsense that tumbled out of his mouth every time he opened it was something she simply couldn't get used to.

Strangely enough, though, it didn't put her off. Taking it apart, he'd never actually crossed the line, and that ambiguous middle ground was precisely what kept throwing Yun-seo off balance.

She'd thought him utterly unreliable, yet his work was impeccable; she'd thought him dangerous, yet he wasn't quite that either. He was a remarkably difficult man to pin down.

"I'll head down first, then."

San tossed her a playful wink and started down the ladder before her. Yun-seo absently raised a hand to wave—and found herself staring at the skin exposed between his sleeve and shoulder as he descended.

The moment she took in the mottled, rough scars carved deep into his flesh, her senses snapped wide awake.

Those were not the marks of an ordinary life. He might wear that easy grin now, but there was no telling when that vicious look from their first day might resurface in his eyes.

Stay on your guard. Yun-seo quickly lowered her hand, watching the crown of San's head disappear below the roofline.

Yun-seo sat at the clinic desk, watching the spectacle unfold before her with something close to wonder.

The grandmothers who, barely an hour ago, had bristled at an outsider were nowhere to be found. At some point San had slipped seamlessly into their midst, where he was now tearing through corn with gusto while jointly condemning the misconduct of the drama's adulterous leading man.

He'd even gone so far as to take down a list of broken appliances in each grandmother's house and was now scheduling house-call appointments—an entirely unprecedented phenomenon.

"Young San, our washing machine's been making a right strange noise too. Could you come take a look for us?"

"There's an order to these things! Don't you know it's by age? Speaking of which, can you fix a front door as well?"

"Now, now—as of today I'm officially clinic staff, you see. I have to make sure something sweet falls to our Dr. Ko Yun-seo first. If something does, I'll come running."

At San's artful banter, the grandmothers burst into fits of girlish laughter loud enough to lift the roof off the clinic.

He's genuinely incredible. Incredible, that's what he is.

Watching this otherworldly performance only hardened Yun-seo's wariness another degree. Just how skilled at charming his superiors did a man have to be to demolish, in one fell swoop, walls these picky country grandmothers had taken a lifetime to build?

She was shooting him narrow-eyed side glances when San—mid-agreement with one of the grandmothers' jokes—turned his head and met Yun-seo's gaze dead-on.

He broke into a bright, easy smile, the corners of his mouth lifting without a trace of shame, and she flinched and whipped her eyes back to her monitor.

Come to think of it, his way with women was no ordinary skill either. How long had he even known her, that he came on this boldly? It was an ingrained, practiced smoothness—the kind that surely came from countless advances on countless women.

Absolutely do not be swayed. Yun-seo was steeling her resolve, tamping down the tangle of feelings inside her, when—

Bzzt. The phone she'd left face-down on the desk gave a short vibration.