Internship (in) Love

A Gundam Wing K-Drama

Chapter 4

"Urgh! I'm such an idiot!" Soo Jin groaned, her voice slightly slurred. She banged her forehead against the bar counter, letting out a dramatic sigh. "He's driving me crazy! What's wrong with him?"

The sleek, dimly lit bar was a far cry from the stiff atmosphere of the office. Neon lights flickered in vibrant hues, casting a soft glow over the polished wooden counter. Bottles of soju and beer lined the shelves behind the bar, their green and brown glass shimmering under the lights. The scent of kimchi and grilled meats wafted through the air, mixing with the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Patrons laughed and chatted, the hustle and bustle creating a lively backdrop to Soo Jin's woes.

Her friend Mi Cha, seated beside her, crossed her arms, watching with a mix of amusement and concern as Soo Jin downed another shot of soju, her movements exaggerated and unsteady. Mi Cha had always been the grounded one, her tomboyish style a reflection of her straightforward, no-nonsense personality. She wore a simple sweater and jeans, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was the same no-frills approach she'd used back in high school when she stood up to the bullies who picked on Soo Jin.

"Jin-ah, you're drunk," Mi Cha pointed out, her tone light, though she couldn't hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"I'm not drunk!" Soo Jin protested, her words trailing off into a whiny mumble as she waved her hands dramatically. "I'm just… frustrated!" She reached for the soju bottle, her fingers fumbling clumsily as she tried to pour another shot. The liquid sloshed over the edge of the glass, spilling onto the counter, but she didn't seem to notice. "He's so… urgh! He doesn't even care! I try to be nice, and he just… he just… glares at me!"

Beside them, Soo Jin's other bestie, Seo Yun, sat in a poised, almost regal manner. She was every bit the Queen Card she had been in high school—elegant, perfectly groomed, and exuding a confidence that turned heads wherever she went. Her glossy hair framed her face in soft waves, her lipstick meticulously applied. With her impeccably manicured nails, she picked up a piece of kimchi with her chopsticks, feigning innocence. "Who's 'he,' again?" she asked, her eyes glinting with teasing amusement.

Soo Jin lifted her head slowly, her eyes bleary as she tried to focus on Mi Cha and Seo Yun. "Who's 'he'?" she echoed, her voice rising in a comically exaggerated tone. "Only the most frustrating, stubborn, cold-hearted—" She paused, struggling to find the right words as she waved her arms theatrically. "—hard-headed, sexy-as-fuck-and-I-swear-he-knows-it agent in the entire world! Agent Yuy! Heero Yuy!"

Mi Cha chuckled, shaking her head as she watched her friend's over-the-top display. "Uh-huh, and what did he do this time?"

"Stared at her with those piercing eyes, of course," Seo Yun added, her voice lilting with mock-seriousness as she delicately placed the chopsticks down. "The audacity."

Soo Jin let out a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping as she picked up her beer and took a long gulp. "He just… he just makes me feel like such a fool!" she whined, her voice cracking with frustration. "I try to talk to him, to be nice, and he just stares at me with those… those eyes! Like I'm some kind of… I don't know! And then, he just ignores me! It's like… like I'm invisible, but at the same time... it's like I'm the only other person in the room! I mean, who LOOKS at someone like that?!"

She banged her fist on the counter for emphasis, though the action lacked any real force. Mi Cha winced slightly, reaching out to steady Soo Jin's wobbling form before she toppled off the stool. "Jin-ah, maybe you should slow down a bit," Mi Cha suggested gently, trying to coax the glass out of Soo Jin's hand.

But Soo Jin was too deep in her theatrical rant to listen. She downed the shot of soju in one go, slamming the glass down with a flourish. "I'll figure him out, Mi Cha!" she declared, her voice full of drunken determination. "No one is that cold… that unapproachable… He has to have a weakness… something… and I'm going to find it!"

"Sure you will," Mi Cha replied, her tone indulgent as she patted Soo Jin's back, trying to keep her upright. "But maybe you should start by figuring out how to stand up straight."

Soo Jin ignored her friend's playful jab, her head spinning slightly as she poured another shot, the soju bottle trembling in her unsteady grasp. "He's just… he's just a puzzle," she muttered, more to herself than to Mi Cha or Seo Yun. "And I'm going to solve him… no matter what…"

Seo Yun exchanged a knowing look with Mi Cha before speaking up, her voice teasing but warm. "Oh, sweetheart, you've got it bad. If he's occupying this much space in your head, maybe he's already won."

Soo Jin huffed, resting her forehead against her folded arms on the bar. "I hate him," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her sleeves. "I hate that he gets to me."

Mi Cha sighed, shaking her head with a smile as she watched Soo Jin slump forward again, her ranting trailing off into a mumble. "Yeah, yeah… you're drunk," she repeated softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Soo Jin's face. "Let's get you home, Jin-ah."

Seo Yun tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes as she picked up her purse. "Do you think she'd last five minutes in front of him sober?" she teased, nudging Mi Cha.

Mi Cha chuckled as she flagged down the bartender, signaling for the check. "Sober, tipsy… doesn't matter. She's still a goner."

Together, they prepared to haul their friend out of the bar and into the night air, laughing softly at Soo Jin's theatrical antics.

Soo Jin stumbled out of the taxi, her steps unsteady as she wobbled drunkenly toward the front door. The cool night air did little to clear her foggy mind. She fumbled with her keys, nearly dropping them twice before managing to get the door open.

Inside, the house was quiet, the familiar stillness welcoming her home. But as she entered the kitchen, the pungent smell of seaweed soup hit her like a brick wall. Soo Jin groaned dramatically, her hand flying up to her forehead as if the scent physically pained her.

"I swear, Jin Ho…" she muttered to herself, staggering over to the stove. The pot of seaweed soup sat there, its contents long spoiled. She grabbed it with both hands, her movements exaggerated and unsteady as she hauled it to the sink. "If he were any other guy, I wouldn't be so… urgh!" She grunted in frustration, her drunken mind unable to find the right words. "He's the worst!" she exclaimed, slamming the empty pot on the counter with a loud clang.

As the pot settled with a final metallic rattle, she turned to the family shrine in the corner of the room. Jin Ho's portrait gazed back at her with that familiar, bright smile. Soo Jin staggered toward the shrine, her vision blurring with tears she refused to let fall.

She knelt down clumsily, nearly tipping over as she did, and gazed up at her brother's image. "Jin Ho… What would you do, huh?" she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "This guy… He's not like anyone else. I don't know if I'm just being stupid, or… or if there's something more."

She hiccuped, a small chuckle escaping her lips. "I don't want to be this shallow, Jin Ho. I don't want to just… just fall for someone because he's got… My god, Jin Ho… You would have loved the sight of him from behind…" She laughed, the sound a mix of amusement and embarrassment, before grabbing her head with both hands, groaning as the feeling of guilt washed over her. "And those stupid… those stupid eyes that make me feel like… like…"

Her words trailed off, lost in a mixture of exhaustion and alcohol. She reached out, placing a shaky hand on the small table that held the offerings—burning candles, a bowl of rice, and a few fresh flowers her mother had placed earlier that day. The gentle flicker of the candlelight made Jin Ho's smile seem almost alive, and it tugged at her heart in a way that no amount of alcohol could numb.

"I miss you, oppa," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You'd know what to say… You always knew. You were much better with guys than I ever will be…" Soo Jin leaned forward, resting her head on her folded arms in front of the shrine. The world around her spun, her thoughts swirling in a muddled haze of grief, confusion, and the lingering effects of too much soju.

She stayed like that for a moment, her breath evening out as sleep began to claim her. Just before she drifted off, she murmured, "He's nothing like you, Jin Ho… but he makes me feel something… something I can't ignore."

With that final thought, Soo Jin's eyes closed, and she fell asleep there, her head resting on her brother's shrine, her heart heavy with the unresolved emotions she couldn't escape.

The weekly department meeting had arrived, and the room buzzed with the usual mix of tension and camaraderie. Soo Jin, as part of her routine, had placed takeout coffee cups on the table beforehand. As they filed in, each agent reached for their drink, offering thanks in their own way—some with a nod, others with a brief word of appreciation. Agent Lee, ever the flirt, raised his cup in a playful toast, grinning from ear to ear.

Soo Jin returned an awkward smile, quickly averting her gaze to the other side of the room, where a couple of female agents—two women with sharp eyes and even sharper tongues—sipped their fancy beverages as they chatted among themselves, more like they were visiting a café than attending a department meeting. They never acknowledged Soo Jin's efforts, their expressions always cool and dismissive, as if she were nothing more than a servant unworthy of their attention. Soo Jin offered them a polite smile and turned to open her laptop, secretly hoping they might choke on their caramel macchiatos.

As she readied her notepad and pen—always keeping a backup in case her laptop failed—Soo Jin noticed Heero quietly entering the room. He was the last to arrive, moving silently toward the back of the room, where he positioned himself in the corner with his back to the wall, his head low, and his face partially hidden by his bangs. His presence seemed to shrink as he kept to himself, unnoticed by the other agents. No one approached him, and no one spoke to him, even though the room was full of chatter.

Soo Jin watched him carefully as his eyes fell on the tall take away cup waiting for him. He paused, his brow furrowing slightly as he examined the label. She had brought him a hot Americano, carefully chosen this simpler option in hopes he might accept it after rejecting the latte last time. But, as Heero examined the cup, a slight twitch of displeasure crossed his lips. Without a word, he shoved it aside, his attention shifting to the notepad in front of him. He tapped his pen against the blank page, his expression closed off and distant.

The meeting began, with Director Jeong taking charge, his voice cutting through the conversations as he handed out assignments. The agents responded with their typical banter—Kang grumbled about the workload, Lee made a joke about needing a break and suggested a company dinner, which made Kim and Baek exchange exasperated looks. Soo Jin barely paid attention to their complaints—they were irrelevant to her summary—her eyes drifting to Heero once more.

He sat, shoulders slightly hunched, his gaze fixed on the notepad in front of him. The pen in his hand rested limply, as if he wasn't expecting to need it. Soo Jin's heart ached at the sight—there was a weariness about him that hadn't been there before, a heaviness that seemed to weigh him down.

"Agent Yuy," Director Jeong's voice broke through the noise, drawing all eyes to Heero.

Heero looked up, startled by the sudden attention. His posture stiffened, and he quickly straightened in his chair, his expression snapping back into focus. "Yes, sir," he responded, his voice steady but lacking its usual sharpness.

As all eyes turned to him, Soo Jin noticed his discomfort. He adjusted his tie, then ran a hand through his bangs to ensure they covered his eyes, a subtle move that didn't go unnoticed by her.

"I want you on the Gyeonggi case," Jeong ordered. "They need you there by Wednesday. Have Miss Park take care of the details. Kang can fill you in before you go."

Soo Jin paused her typing, her fingers hovering above the keyboard as she studied Heero's reaction. Heero seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering with something like resignation. He didn't immediately respond, and the silence stretched just a bit too long.

Jeong's tone hardened, his patience thinning. "Remember, Yuy, you transferred to our department, not the other way around. You belong here, despite what the people upstairs think."

The words seemed to cut through whatever hesitation Heero had been feeling. He straightened further, his jaw tightening as he muttered, "Yes, sir."

Heero gripped his pen so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The weight of the room's attention seemed to press down on him, and Soo Jin, feeling for him, wished desperately that everyone would stop staring. On impulse, she "accidentally" dropped her pen, the small clatter drawing attention away from Heero. "Oh, sorry," she murmured, bending down to retrieve it.

The room's focus shifted to her for a moment, and when she straightened up, Agent Lee leered at her, grinning as she quickly returned to her seat. Heero, glancing at her briefly, looked almost grateful for the distraction.

Director Jeong cleared his throat, bringing the room back to order. "Kang, give Yuy the rundown. Bring him up to speed."

"Yes, sir," Agent Kang grunted, taking a sip of his bitter black coffee, his other arm still hanging in a sling.

Heero nodded, his voice even quieter this time. "Yes, sir."

Soo Jin's heart sank as she watched the interaction unfold. The tension in the room was palpable, but Heero's resigned acceptance made it clear that he had no choice but to shoulder the burden. As the meeting continued, Soo Jin found it difficult to focus on the minutes, her thoughts drifting back to Heero's tired expression and the weight he seemed to carry alone.

His eyes flicked to the Americano cup by his side, and Soo Jin held her breath, hoping he might finally take a sip. Heero's hand moved toward the cup, but instead of drinking from it, he merely twisted it back and forth, fidgeting with it absentmindedly. Disappointment tugged at her as she quietly exhaled the breath she'd been holding. His fingers traced the rim, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, distant from the bustling room around him. Then, their eyes met.

Unable to help herself, Soo Jin offered a subtle smile from behind her laptop, hoping to convey a sense of comfort across the room. Heero's gaze lingered on hers for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as if puzzled by her gesture. After a beat, he looked away, his expression unreadable once more, and released the cup, pushing it aside again.

The end of the month brought a particular kind of stress to Soo Jin's job. As the office assistant, it was her responsibility to make sure every report, every form, and every expense sheet was completed and submitted before the deadline. She sat at her desk, the soft hum of the office filling the background, surrounded by towering stacks of documents waiting to be reviewed.

Her fingers flew over the keyboard, entering data into a massive spreadsheet that listed every agent in the department. Each row was a small battle—missing signatures, half-filled forms, and hasty scribbles that made her wonder how these agents ever managed to save the world. Soo Jin let out a frustrated sigh as she reached Agent Kang's line. The cells were filled with red error notifications, indicating missing or incorrect information.

She rolled her eyes. Typical. She'd have to hunt him down and pry the information out of him, like always.

As she scanned the next few rows, her mood didn't improve. Agent Baek had forgotten to submit his expenses—again—and Agent Kim's vacation days were somehow overlapping with his sick leave, which was impossible unless he had figured out a way to be in two places at once.

Soo Jin leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. She loved her job, truly, but sometimes she wondered if these agents even realized how much work went into keeping everything running smoothly behind the scenes. As much as they fought terrorists, she fought bureaucracy—an endless, thankless battle against paperwork.

After jotting down a few more notes for follow-ups, she pushed herself away from her desk. She needed a break before she lost her mind. The kitchenette, though not exactly a haven of peace, would at least offer a brief escape from the endless forms.

Soo Jin walked into the small kitchenette, her footsteps light on the linoleum floor. She was reaching for the herbal tea when she noticed someone already there. Standing by the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the old, worn-out percolator, was Agent Yuy.

Heero.

For a moment, Soo Jin froze, her hand hovering over the tea box. Heero didn't acknowledge her presence, his focus entirely on the cup filling with the dark, bitter liquid. His expression was as stoic as ever, but she noticed the slightest furrow in his brow as he took his first sip.

He didn't like the coffee. The realization made something inside her tighten. Heero, who was always so composed, looked genuinely displeased for a brief second.

Their eyes met for the briefest moment—hers filled with a mix of helplessness and fatigue, his as unreadable as ever. It wasn't much of an exchange, but it was enough to leave her feeling strangely exposed.

Heero took another sip, grimacing slightly before turning and walking out of the kitchenette. Soo Jin watched him go, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft click. The moment passed, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the faint scent of bitter coffee lingering in the air.

Shaking off the encounter, Soo Jin made herself some herbal tea and returned to her desk. The workload hadn't diminished in her absence, but she was feeling slightly more grounded after the short break. She began working her way through the remaining reports, her frustration mounting with each error she encountered.

But then she reached the last line.

Agent Yuy.

Soo Jin paused, a small smile tugging at her lips as she reviewed his digital submission. Everything was perfect. Every form was filled out correctly, every field completed with meticulous care. Earlier that month, Heero had been briefed by Kang about the Gyeonggi case and had dived into the project with his characteristic intensity. He had spent three days in Gyeonggi, and every receipt was accounted for—every detail filled out to the letter. Reading through his report on the assignment, clinical and dry as it was, brought a fond smile to her face. Even though it was all typed out, the precision of his work made her wish she could see his actual handwriting; she imagined it would be just like him.

It was a small comfort in the chaos of her day.

She leaned back in her chair, letting out a long breath. Finally, something she didn't have to fix. She felt a rush of gratitude—Heero had no idea how much this small act of diligence meant to her.

With renewed energy, she completed the last of her tasks, filing the report to Director Jeong. But before she logged off for the day, Soo Jin opened a new email and filled out a request form, a smug smile playing on her lips. She didn't put too much thought into the wording—it wasn't necessary. The request was simple, but she knew it would make a world of difference.

The next morning, Soo Jin arrived at the office earlier than usual, her heart racing with anticipation. She walked into the kitchenette and stopped in front of the brand-new coffee machine, a sleek, shiny thing that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. She had made sure to stock it with a variety of capsules—something for everyone.

Pleased with the prompt response by the Logistics department, she left the kitchenette with a smile. Turning to her desk, she saw Heero already at his workstation by the window, sipping from a cup of freshly brewed coffee. The steam rose in delicate tendrils, curling around his face before dissipating into the cool morning air.

Soo Jin's heart swelled with a small, quiet pride. He had used the new machine.

She watched him for a moment longer, noticing how he preferred his coffee black, without any sugar or cream. It was such a simple detail, but it felt like a small victory—one she could quietly celebrate on her own.

As the rest of the office began to fill up, the noise and bustle returned, shattering the early morning calm. Agent Lee was one of the first to arrive, as always, hovering around her desk with his usual playful banter. "Morning, Soo Jin-ah," he said with a grin, leaning over her shoulder. "Busy as ever, I see."

Soo Jin forced a polite smile, her thoughts still lingering on Heero. "Good morning, Agent Lee."

Lee, however, didn't seem to notice her distraction. He was too busy making small talk, his eyes straying a little too often to the screen in front of her. "Thanks for treating us to a new coffee machine! Where on Earth did you find the budget?"

"You'd be amazed how much money Preventer can save if you fill out your expense reports properly."

Agent Lee laughed. "Ah, Soo Jin-ah! You're the best! You should let me take you out for a drink sometime," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone.

Before Soo Jin could muster a reply, Agent Kang stomped up to her desk, dropping a stack of forms in front of her with a huff. "Too busy for this bureaucratic nonsense," he muttered, his tone gruff as ever.

Soo Jin sighed, her brief moment of satisfaction fading as reality set in. She glanced at the pile of half-filled forms, knowing she'd have to spend the next hour fixing them. "I'll take care of it," she replied, her voice resigned.

But as she glanced over at Heero's desk, a small sense of relief returned. His paperwork was always immaculate, and somehow, knowing she didn't have to worry about him made the rest of the day feel just a little more manageable.

She returned to her work with a renewed sense of purpose, knowing that even in the chaos, there were small victories to be found—victories that made all the difference in her otherwise overwhelming day.

Soo Jin stood in the crowded elevator, sandwiched between her colleagues. The soft hum of conversation filled the space, blending with the gentle whir of the elevator descending. Ji Young, standing beside her, nudged her gently.

"Rough day?"

Soo Jin sighed, shaking her head. "Nothing I can't handle…"

"You're too nice to them!" another colleague chimed in with a friendly reprimand. "Those jerks aren't worth the effort, Soo Jin-ah."

Soo Jin opened her mouth to protest, but the elevator dinged as it stopped on another floor. The doors slid open, and they waited for a moment, chatting like schoolgirls as they waited for another colleague to join.

As they laughed and joked, Soo Jin's gaze drifted toward the stairwell entrance just beyond the elevator. For a split second, she caught a glimpse of a figure turning the corner, walking upstairs. The movement was subtle, almost ghostly, but something about the silhouette—the broad shoulders, the composed stride—stirred a familiar feeling in her chest.

Heero?

Before she could focus on the thought, the elevator doors closed, sealing the image away. Soo Jin bit her lip, her curiosity piqued. She could still hear Ji Young teasing her, but her mind was elsewhere, replaying that brief, tantalizing moment.

The cafeteria buzzed with activity, the clatter of trays and the hum of conversations creating a lively atmosphere. Soo Jin sat at the table with her friends, but her mind was a million miles away. Her chopsticks hovered over her bowl of rice, paused in mid-air, while the laughter and chatter around her became a distant echo.

"Soo Jin-ah!" Ji Young's voice cut through her thoughts, pulling her back to reality. She blinked, realizing that her chopsticks were still suspended in mid-air, a piece of fishcake pinched between them.

"Huh?" Soo Jin looked up, her cheeks flushing as her friends burst into laughter.

"You've been holding that fishcake for ages!" Ji Young teased, waving a hand in front of Soo Jin's face. "What's going on with you today? Are you feeling alright? Nursing a hangover?"

Flustered, Soo Jin quickly stuffed the fish cake into her mouth, chewing hurriedly as her friends continued to laugh. "No, no, I'm fine…" she mumbled through her food, her face growing warmer by the second. She forced herself to pay attention to the conversation, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Heero and the dreary air of isolation that engulfed him like a dark cloud.

The meal ended with Soo Jin clearing her tray first, eager to escape her friends' teasing. She debated taking the elevator back up, but a nagging hunch tugged at her thoughts. Instead, she decided to take the stairs.

As she climbed seven floors up to the Cyber Threat Analysis Department, Soo Jin slowed her pace, her heart beating faster with each step. She stopped short when she spotted Heero sitting alone on the stairs, eating a takeaway salad from the cafeteria. His posture was tense, and he ate with slow, almost resigned motions, as if forcing himself to eat something he didn't particularly enjoy. Dark bags under his eyes and the slight trembling of his hand as he handled the fork hinted at a fatigue far deeper than mere physical exhaustion.

Soo Jin hesitated, her first instinct being to disappear behind the corner she had just turned. But before she could retreat, Heero looked up, and their eyes met. The intensity of his brown gaze froze her in place, her breath catching in her throat.

With an awkward smile, Soo Jin stepped forward, trying to break the tension. "Thought I'd get some exercise after lunch," she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Heero didn't respond immediately, just kept looking at her with those dark, inscrutable eyes. Then, without a word, he shifted aside, making room for her to pass. He turned away, continuing to eat his salad, clearly indicating that he wasn't in the mood for conversation.

But something about seeing him alone on the stairs, looking smaller and more vulnerable than usual, made Soo Jin pause. She couldn't bring herself to just walk past him. "Is everything all right?" she asked carefully.

"Fine," Heero muttered, his voice low and rough, not turning around to face her. He poked at his salad with his fork, the motion sluggish.

Soo Jin hesitated, sensing something off. Heero was withdrawn, sure, but this was new.

"You usually take your lunch at your desk," she dared to voice her observation.

Heero paused, then spoke without looking at her. "You usually mind your own business."

Soo Jin chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the mood. "I do not."

That made Heero pause. He lowered his fork, the salad forgotten, and turned to look at her. From his position lower down the stairs, she could see him from a new angle—his tousled hair falling over his forehead, his brown eyes gleaming with an intensity that felt different this time. There was a softness there, a momentary crack in his usual stoic demeanor.

For a brief second, something in his expression softened, like cracking glass, before he quickly composed himself. His face hardened again, and he turned away, sighing deeply. His posture slumped, and he seemed weary, almost as if the weight of the world was pressing down on him.

Soo Jin couldn't help but notice the faint pallor of his skin, the slight droop in his usually sharp eyes, and the way his hand trembled as he gripped the fork. Something was definitely off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Take care, Agent Yuy," Soo Jin said gently, deciding not to press further. She took a few more steps up the stairs, glancing back at him one last time before disappearing around the corner.