* * *
A month had passed since that night at Sagye Beach, when Yoonwoo had shouted everything out, and the season had completely changed.
Jeju was welcoming the full bloom of April.
Rape blossoms covered the island in yellow, and nameless spring flowers bloomed vyingly by the roadside.
It was the season when nature, which had been huddled during the winter, burst forth with the colors of life.
Yoonwoo’s time, too, was moving slowly but surely in a warmer direction, having passed through the chilling autumn and the frozen winter.
In the meantime, Yoonwoo and Dojin had visibly grown closer.
As if the shouting by the night sea had been a turning point, Yoonwoo no longer put up his sharp defenses around Dojin, and sometimes he would initiate conversation or even smile at Dojin’s playful jokes.
It couldn’t be said that he had completely opened his heart, but his rigid wariness had significantly softened in the face of Dojin’s consistent and sincere consideration.
He was now comfortable sitting on the porch bench with Dojin drinking coffee or having dinner together.
That sense of comfort was an emotion Yoonwoo hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Dojin diligently led him out of the guesthouse, using Yoonwoo’s need for a change of scenery or the excuse of seeking advice on his designs.
Yoonwoo, who had initially hesitated, gradually began to accept his suggestions.
The two walked across the vast fields of Gapado, where green barley swayed, and looked down at the panoramic view of Jeju from the top of an oreum (volcanic cone) covered with nameless wild flowers.
One day, Dojin took Yoonwoo to a field of endlessly spreading yellow rape blossoms, claiming it was a secret spot people didn’t know about, filling his vision with color.
Yoonwoo enjoyed the refreshing sea breeze as he drove along the quiet coastal road with the window down.
They stopped at pretty cafés for warm hot chocolate lattes, and sometimes, they visited bustling folk markets to soak up the atmosphere of daily life and eat snacks Dojin bought him.
In the time they spent together, moments when the sunshine of the present, instead of the shadow of the past, lingered on Yoonwoo’s face were slowly increasing.
Wherever they went, Dojin never put down his camera, diligently capturing the scenery, the now healthy Gaeul running around the guesthouse yard or playing at Dojin’s feet, and the moments when Yoonwoo suddenly wore a soft expression or smiled under the sunlight.
Dojin captured Yoonwoo’s profile more often than the surrounding scenery, and Yoonwoo pretended not to notice Dojin’s gaze, focusing only on the landscape.
His phone gallery was steadily filling up with photos capturing the time Yoonwoo was slowly reclaiming.
Occasionally, Dojin would show the photos he took to Yoonwoo, who silently flipped through them, observing the small changes passing over his own face.
His own image—smiling or looking innocently comfortable next to Dojin in the photos—was unfamiliar, but strangely, he didn’t dislike it.
In fact, he thought to himself that he liked seeing that look after a very long time.
Just as a month of time that felt like a dream passed, it was a warm, lazy afternoon in May.
Yoonwoo was sitting across from Dojin on the porch bench.
Dojin had spread out the design draft for his new competition and was asking Yoonwoo for advice.
Yoonwoo was initially awkward and reluctant, but once he faced the design, his eyes changed.
He sharply pointed out problems and logically suggested alternatives, sometimes drawing sketches himself.
The lines drawn by his hand still seemed alive, and his voice, explaining the design, contained a faint trace of his former passion.
His feedback went beyond mere technical aspects, showing a deep understanding of design philosophy and user experience.
Dojin continuously admired this side of Yoonwoo and listened intently to every word.
He truly was a genius.
Yoonwoo also felt a forgotten sense of accomplishment and reward watching Dojin’s design visibly improve based on his advice.
Beneath the bench, Gaeul, now fully recovered, was stretched out asleep, basking in the warm sunlight at their feet.
Everything was peaceful, an ideal Jeju afternoon filled with a tangible sense of hope.
Just then, Yoonwoo’s phone rang loudly for the first time in a while.
Focused on the design, he frowned for a moment but then his expression softened when he saw the name ‘Senior Kang Seoyeon’ on the screen and answered the call.
Dojin, who was next to him, stopped working for a moment and walked toward the corner of the yard, as if to quietly give him space.
“Hello, Senior.”
[Oh, Yoonwoo! Is it a good time to talk? You’re not busy, are you?]
Seoyeon’s bright and clear voice came through the phone.
Worried about him after sending him to Jeju, Seoyeon called him from time to time.
However, she always contacted him cautiously for his slow recovery, so this was the first time she had called since his voice sounded better.
“Yes, I’m fine. Is something up?”
[Something up? I called to hear your voice! I’m glad you’re doing well. I was so worried when I called you last time; your voice was practically dead. But now your voice is much better. That’s a huge relief.]
Seoyeon sounded genuinely relieved.
Yoonwoo was newly grateful for her sincere concern.
[So, how is it there these days? I bet the rape blossoms have bloomed a lot. Have you been sightseeing?]
“Yes… Dojin has been taking me around, so I’ve seen a lot.”
[Oh, Dojin did? That’s surprising. I thought he said he was sick of seeing rape blossoms since he’s lived on Jeju for so long.]
At Seoyeon’s words, the thought that Dojin had deliberately taken him to a place he found ‘boring’ just for him made Yoonwoo’s cheeks feel warm.
[Oh, and guess what? I quit my job the other day!]
Yoonwoo’s eyes widened at her sudden confession.
“What? Suddenly? The company you were working at?”
Yoonwoo was shocked.
Seoyeon was a talented person who had joined a reputable mid-sized IT company as a graphic designer after graduating from university, and thanks to her outstanding abilities, she had been promoted to team leader in just a few years.
It was surprising that she had suddenly quit the company.
[Yep. Honestly, I’m tired of working for other people. I figured I’d take this chance to properly open my own studio under my name. It’s called ‘Studio Yeon,’ and it’s just in the beginning stages.]
Her voice was filled with the excitement and determination of a new start.
[But to start properly, I can’t do it alone. I need the best partner, someone I can truly trust—a cornerstone, really.]
Seoyeon’s voice became more serious.
She seemed to pause for a breath, then spoke sincerely.
[So, listen, Yoonwoo. Would you… consider being my first designer? As the Senior Designer for Studio Yeon. It’s a very small place right now, but I feel like I can do anything with you. Honestly, your talent is far too good to be wasted in Jeju.]
Seoyeon’s groundbreaking offer.
It was more than just a simple recruitment proposal.
It meant that after abruptly leaving her team leader position at a reputable company, she wanted Yoonwoo as the most crucial partner for her new beginning.
Yoonwoo was speechless for a moment at her unwavering trust.
Returning to Seoul, re-entering the design industry… the world he had belonged to for so long, and then fled from.
Yoonwoo was still afraid.
The hellish memories, people’s gazes, the anxiety of potentially being hurt again.
The fear of possibly running into Cha Joowon.
It was difficult to readily gather the courage.
But at the same time, that alive feeling, that passionate pounding in his heart that he had felt just moments ago while advising Dojin on his design, stirred within him again.
His forgotten pride and ambition as a designer.
Studio Yeon.
Representative Kang Seoyeon.
She was the one who first recognized Yoonwoo’s abilities in college and the one who extended a hand to him when he was at his lowest.
With her… perhaps this time could be different. Perhaps he could start over.
Even with these thoughts, he couldn’t answer easily.
Fear and excitement, worry and anticipation, mixed together and shook his heart.
[…Was that too sudden? I’m not saying you have to decide now. Just know that this path exists. And that I need you.]
Seoyeon seemed to read his silence and added gently.
[Take your time to think about it, and call me whenever you make up your mind. I’ll be waiting.]
“Yes, Senior. I’ll think about it. Thank you for calling.”
Even after hanging up, Yoonwoo stared blankly at his phone for a long time.
‘Senior Designer.’
‘Studio Yeon.’
‘Seoul.’
Those words circled complicatedly in his mind.
He felt that the peaceful period of reprieve in Jeju was ending, and the time had truly come for him to choose the path forward.
His heart, still undecided, was fiercely swaying between hope and fear.
Dojin, who had waited for his call to end before approaching, observed Yoonwoo’s expression.
An unidentifiable sense of anxiety, mixed with worry, crossed his face.
He instinctively felt that this call might bring about a significant change in their relationship.
* * *
