Just Twilight

As Junyoung slurped up her noodles, Beomjin’s face hardened as he watched her. When she raised her head, chewing thoughtfully and staring at him intently, he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone.
“There’s no need to overthink it. Anyone else would have reacted the same way.”

“Ah, so you’re saying you’d have come running in such a panic for anyone, not just me?”
She had a knack for leaving him speechless. While Beomjin remained silent, Junyoung swallowed her udon and extended her glass again. Flashing a mischievous grin, she whispered ominously.
“You’d better pour me another. Otherwise, I’ll head straight to the fridge and start drinking straight from the bottle.”

Letting out a faint chuckle, Beomjin filled her glass halfway. As soon as Junyoung downed it, spicy chicken feet, kimchi fried rice, and spicy pork rice appeared in front of them. The table was awash in shades of red.
“Did you find any evidence to confirm it wasn’t just an accident?”
Beomjin gestured to the food with his eyes as Junyoung raised her glass again. She narrowed her eyes at him but obediently stuck her spoon into the pork rice. The enticing spicy aroma was too much for her to resist.

“Let’s just say there’s enough circumstantial evidence. Have you heard anything among the workers? Any rumors?”
For a moment, Beomjin’s lips curled into a subtle smirk.
“Are you trying to recruit me as a spy?”

“Well, I figured you’d side with me over people you’ve only worked with for a month. That is… unless you have other motives.”
Junyoung grinned as she spoke confidently.
“Other motives? Like what?”

Their gazes met in quiet intensity as Junyoung sliced the fried egg on her kimchi fried rice in half and continued.
“In this case, another motive would mean trying to pass off this incident as a simple workplace accident. That’d be the reason to try to kick me out.”
Junyoung took a spoonful of fried rice while Beomjin remained silent. He marveled at how sharp her little mind was, piecing things together so quickly.

“Did you report the safety equipment issue to Officer Kim Yongjae? If so, I’m curious why it’s so important for this incident to be labeled a safety accident. Though, I think we both know the answer.”
Raising an eyebrow, Junyoung held out her empty glass again. As Beomjin poured, he asked casually, “And what’s that answer?”
“Money. It’s always about money.”

Junyoung shrugged after draining her glass in one go, as if she had an aversion to sharing drinks. Beomjin quietly watched her sip the udon broth.
If Yoon Junyoung was this determined, it was only a matter of time before she uncovered that Jung Mansu’s fall was no accident. When that happened, the situation would shift dramatically.
If the incident couldn’t be written off as an accident to secure compensation, then identifying the perpetrator—whether it was a mistake or intentional—would be next. Accountability would have to be enforced.
And this was likely intentional. If it had been a mistake, there would’ve been visible anxiety or unease among the workers—sleepless nights from guilt. But none of the workers seemed outwardly different from usual, which made it more plausible that this was premeditated.

Of course, silencing Yoon Junyoung to secure compensation was an option. In such cases, bribes or violence were the typical methods. Considering Jung Mansu’s debts, the compensation, and Junyoung’s character, bribery wasn’t cost-effective.
That left violence.
“What are you staring at?” Junyoung furrowed her brow as she slurped up another strand of udon. Emerging from his thoughts, Beomjin spoke slowly.

“Do you know it wasn’t just one person?”
“What do you mean?”
“The workers who’ve fallen at accident sites around here.”

“How many are we talking about?”
“Four in two months.”
“And how unusual is that—?”

“There weren’t any in the past two years.”
Junyoung’s spoon, which had just picked up a piece of pork, froze midair. The meat fell back onto her plate. Beomjin placed another piece on her spoon without missing a beat.
If the compensation were abandoned, the time required to recover Jung Mansu’s debts would increase tenfold. His wife, who could at least make dinner for her daughter after work, would now have to soak her hands in perm solution day and night. His daughter, who once played piano competitively, would lose even the chance to practice unless she worked.

In such cases, you didn’t press too hard. If they gave up everything and ended it all, it would be your loss. Instead, their lives would be mortgaged to the company for at least ten years. Even breathing would no longer be their decision. They’d live solely to repay the debt—a life of servitude.
People nowadays didn’t fear borrowing money as they should, but debt had always been that way.
“Jung Mansu and his wife’s reactions weren’t normal either. So he either jumped himself or someone pushed him. I’ll need to gather information on the others who fell. Were they all desperate for compensation? That’s more likely unless they all made enemies willing to push them.”

Junyoung muttered to herself as if organizing her thoughts, then raised an eyebrow suddenly. Tilting her head skeptically, she stared at Beomjin.
“But why are you telling me this now?”
“Might as well save you some time since you’d figure it out anyway.”

Beomjin traced the rim of his empty glass with a finger before flipping it upside down and looking at her.
“The company Jung Mansu owes money to… is JBK Financial. That’s where I work.”
Junyoung’s sharp eyes widened in surprise. Beomjin calmly picked up the kimchi fried rice plate and shoveled the rest into his mouth. Not a word was spoken until the plate was clean.

***
Even Samdu, who had been following Junyoung all the way to the construction site, seemed to have lost his nerve and didn’t follow her this time. Cradling an unopened bottle of soju in her arms, she remained silent during the car ride home. Beomjin gripped the steering wheel in silence.
He could have chosen not to say anything. But he also couldn’t stand by and let Junyoung, with her familiar, unguarded expression, approach him as if nothing had changed.

He could see it all too clearly. People don’t change. Back then, he had fallen hopelessly for Junyoung. Without even realizing it, she had occupied his every thought. He wanted to do everything for her, protect her from everything.
As long as Yoon Junyoung was there, smiling at him, he felt he could do anything.
Junyoung had always been by his side.

When he roamed the countryside with his uncle, hiding from pursuers. When a traitor from his father’s organization met an unexpected death in a hit-and-run. When his uncle bequeathed him the organization’s and his father’s hidden assets. When, following the advice of a lawyer loyal to his father, he invested that money to establish a company.
And even when he was stabbed during a fight with remnants of the traitors targeting him, spending three days in a coma.
Junyoung was always there, like a distant dream. Everything she represented—pure, untarnished moments of joy, beautiful and serene days, exhilarating happiness—were things he could never truly have.

Yoon Junyoung still shone brightly, clean and radiant. As he’d expected, she was confidently walking her own path. There was no reason for their lives to intersect again. She could live her life, and he would live his.
Unclenching the fist he hadn’t realized he was gripping, Beomjin brought the car to a stop. The alley was dark. Glancing sideways at Junyoung, who seemed lost in thought, he finally spoke.
“Jung Mansu didn’t fall on his own.”

Junyoung’s head turned sluggishly, as though she were awakening from a daze. Beomjin kept his gaze forward as he continued.
“Someone pushed him. That’s why he’s been refusing to meet with his coworkers. Jung Mansu was diligently paying off his debts. At this rate, he would’ve cleared them in just a few years. There’s no way he’d risk something that might kill him.”
“……”

“When you gather enough evidence, report it to the police. This is a criminal case.”
He gestured toward the door with his chin, indicating for her to get out. Junyoung instinctively reached for the handle but hesitated.
“You.”

She blinked, then turned her head sharply to face him.
“Are you really planning to just leave like this?”
The surrounding darkness didn’t obscure the slight tremble of her lips, which was all too clear to his sharp eyes. Thankful for his good vision, Beomjin replied slowly.

“Not right now.”
“Then when…?”
“Yoon Junyoung.”

Her fingers tightened around the soju bottle at the sound of her name. Beomjin traced the shape of her fingers with his eyes before lifting his head.
“It was good to have you there.”
Back when he had nothing. When the emptiness of those days could have easily led to despair, she was the one person who made him forget. Without the time he spent with her, he would be a very different person today. Of that, he was certain.

“I’m glad we met again.”
He smiled gently. It wasn’t even a fraction of what he truly felt, but it was all he could manage to convey.
Even if she wasn’t physically by his side, Junyoung would still remain a part of his life. Things were better now than they had been before they reconnected. At least now, he knew where she worked.

Junyoung’s lips pressed tightly together as she unfastened her seatbelt and opened the door. The streetlight illuminated her face, revealing her furrowed brow.
Yet for some reason, she didn’t get out. Instead, she took a deep breath and then forcefully shut the door again. Watching her, Beomjin’s brow twitched.
Junyoung’s clear voice broke the silence of the dark night.

“I know more about you than you think, Beomjin.”
The unfamiliar way she addressed him sent a sudden pang through his chest. Her gaze, locked firmly on his, sparkled with mischief. She whispered softly.
“If you think you can just cut things off like this, you’re mistaken.”

“What…?”
Before he could finish, Junyoung leaned in, and her lips pressed firmly against his. The warmth of her soft lips flowed into him, leaving Beomjin frozen in place.