Yoojin and Dongha headed back to their seats and opened the container list together.
There were three hundred orders in total. They decided to split the work—one hundred fifty each—and start sorting through the list.
While they worked, Yoojin kept stealing glances at Dongha, her expression tinged with worry.
When Dongha noticed, he asked politely, "Why? Is something wrong?"
Yoojin leaned closer and whispered, "Um… do you know how to use Excel?"
Cute. Is she worried about me?
Dongha's lips curved into a faint, silent smile.
When he started the Samho Entertainment proposal project years ago, the very first things he had learned were Word, Excel, and Hangul. And when he was running Beat Crew, he'd often had to draft documents himself.
He was certain he had more experience than Yoojin in this area.
…But ten minutes after he began, Dongha had to honestly admit something to himself: Being able to do something and being good at it were two completely different things.
On stage, in anything related to dance, Dongha had always been one of the best. He had never experienced the gap between "capable" and "skilled."
But here in the office, he was merely "capable," while Yoojin was unmistakably "skilled."
Her small hands moved so quickly that if someone paired her typing with a fast rondo from a piano sonatina, it could become a performance of its own. Even if he watched her for hours, he doubted he'd get bored.
Meanwhile, Dongha's large fingers felt like they had just woken from a long sleep—slow, stiff, uncoordinated.
If this were a choreography class, he would've yelled at his own hands: Faster. With rhythm.
But it wasn't just his fingers that were struggling.
Dongha kept letting out small sighs without realizing it. He was a field-oriented person, built for movement. The longest he could sit still at a desk without discomfort was thirty minutes at most.
His eyes, trained to track fast-moving bodies, were useless against the unmoving glare of a monitor. His back and neck stiffened, his hips twitched uncomfortably, and every few minutes he found himself turning to look at Yoojin again.
She was absorbed in her work—typing swiftly, eyes fixed on the sheet, brows slightly furrowed with determination.
Seeing her that focused made him want to tap her shoulder.
Stop looking at the monitor and look at me instead.
Then she'd glance up at him with those clear eyes and ask, "Why?"
He sighed again.
Work was work, and the faster he finished, the sooner Yoojin could move on and eventually go home.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep up with her pace.
At this rate… I'm the one who's going to need her help.
Dongha let out a dry laugh and forced himself to focus again.
It took nearly four hours in total, and in the end, Yoojin ended up handling about seventy percent of the workload.
When they finally looked up, the clock was nearing 6:30 p.m.—almost closing time. Around them, some seats were already empty.
"Yoojin, Dongha—are you two almost done?"
Senior Sun-young approached from behind.
"Yes, Senior," Yoojin replied. "We're almost finished."
Sun-young checked Yoojin's monitor. Everything was organized exactly as she instructed.
"Good job."
"We got it done faster because we worked together."
"No, Yoojin did most of it," Dongha added.
The two praised each other instead of themselves, and Sun-young smiled faintly.
Maybe pairing interns as a team really was a good idea.
"Then send me the file by email. I'll take care of the rest."
"Senior, don't you already have too much work? I can stay and help," Yoojin said with concern.
"It's fine. The production management team is the one who has to flag potential issues anyway. I'm just going to mark the risky orders."
"Then… can I watch and learn while you do it?" Yoojin asked.
"Ah—then you'll have to work overtime with me."
Yoojin didn't hesitate. "That's fine."
Dongha, beside her, kept his face expressionless, but he didn't object.
Sun-young glanced at Manager Lee-hyuk's desk. It was already empty.
They're interns… Shouldn't they be allowed to leave on time on their first day? And the Supervisor should've introduced them around the department… none of that happened…
Do I have to do it tomorrow? Ugh…
But she exhaled lightly and said, "Alright. Let's do it."
The three of them spent the next hour and a half reviewing the production schedule. They marked orders with delayed materials, flagged potential bottlenecks, and double-checked factory timelines. The review finally ended close to 8 p.m.
"Alright, go on home now," Sun-young said, waving them off.
"Senior, what about dinner?" Yoojin asked.
"I bought an extra sandwich earlier. I don't have time to leave the office," she said casually.
Yoojin watched her for a moment—looking a little worried—then returned to her seat to pack up.
Dongha, seeing that, took out his phone and called Manager Lee-hyuk.
"Hello, Manager. This is Intern Dongha."
— Ah, yes.
"We finished organizing the container list and are about to leave for the day."
— Good. I'm in Cheongdam right now. Want to come over? The team is having dinner with a vendor.
No wonder all the male employees had disappeared earlier.
"I'm sorry, Manager. I need to head home early today."
— Tsk… this kid.
Dongha could hear the tension in the Manager's voice—but someone near him quickly chimed in, telling him to let the interns go on their first day. A burst of laughter followed.
— Fine. Go home today. But when there's a vendor dinner, you're expected to attend. It's part of the job.
Dongha's eyebrows knitted tightly. He had feared this exact thing.
"Yes, Manager. Should I pass the phone to Intern Yoojin?"
— No need. Just go.
"Yes. See you tomorrow."
He hung up with a stiff jaw.
"Vendor dinner tonight?" Sun-young asked quietly.
"Yes."
She gave a vague, knowing smile. "Then you'll be joining him soon enough."
Dongha didn't respond. His expression remained twisted for a long moment.
On their way out, Yoojin and Dongha rode the elevator in silence. Through the glass panel in the wall, they could see the lights of Teheran-ro sparkling like embedded jewels.
Dongha looked down at Yoojin. Her hair was mussed from the long day, and the dust from the storage room still clung faintly to her sleeves.
"Want a ride home?" he asked.
"No, it's fine. I'll take the subway."
"You were rolling around in dust earlier. You'll be exhausted if you take the subway."
Now that he mentioned it, her arms and shoulders did ache. Refusing felt difficult.
"Come on. I want to clear my head anyway. I'll drive you to your neighborhood. If you feel bad, buy me dinner."
Yoojin hesitated, then nodded.
Getting a simple dinner together didn't sound so bad—and she was starving.
"Okay. Then I'll treat you to something good."
Dongha finally smiled—brightly, beautifully, for the first time that day.
Yoojin felt a pang in her chest. Seeing him like that, she suddenly felt terribly guilty.If she hadn't returned to the past, Dongha would be on an international stage somewhere, living the life of a world-class dancer—not stuck in an office because of her.
Her eyes dimmed with quiet remorse.
Dongha's car was parked in the Samho HQ building across the street. It was a high-end luxury sedan.
Yoojin's eyes widened.
It felt far too expensive for a 21-year-old intern to drive.
The car glided smoothly out of the lot, heavy and elegant.
"Wow… you must have made good money working at Beat Crew and Samho Entertainment."
Dongha glanced around the car with complete disinterest.
"No. My brother gave it to me. I split profits with Beat Crew and the Samho Entertainment projects, so I never made that much."
"Your brother did?"
Yoojin blinked.
"Not your parents?"
"I don't have parents," he answered flatly.
Yoojin slowly turned to look at him. His face showed no emotion—just that usual blank calm.
"Did they… pass away?" she asked gently.
"My father did. I've never met my mother. I don't know where she is."
"Oh…"
And suddenly, everything made sense—the coldness that flickered in him sometimes, the emotional distance, the unfamiliarity with being cared for.
He had grown up without a mother's affection.
Warmth swelled painfully in Yoojin's chest.
"…I'm sorry," she whispered.
"It's fine."
Silence filled the car.
Dongha glanced over.
Yoojin kept turning her face toward the window, as though she was trying to hide her feelings.
He wanted to ease that heaviness.
"It's really fine. I have my brother and sister-in-law. And…"
He paused.
"…I have you, too."
Yoojin's eyes widened as she turned toward him.
"Me?"
They were barely acquaintances in middle school. They had only spoken a handful of times. Why would she count as someone important to him?
"Yeah."
He kept his voice casual, eyes fixed on the road.
"Hey, you have Beat Crew, Samho Entertainment, and your friends," Yoojin said softly.
"Do I?"
For a moment, Dongha thought about each of them.Then he shook his head faintly.
"They're just… them. I don't think about them much. But you—"
His voice dropped, quiet but certain.
"—you're someone I actually care about."
"…Huh?"
"My world is small. It's just my brother, my sister-in-law… and you."
Dongha finally turned his eyes toward her.
The moment Yoojin met his deep, pitch-black gaze, something pressed sharply and heavily against her heart—like the breath was being pushed right out of her chest.