Chapter 6: The Embarrassing Sunday

It was Sunday—her first proper day off in weeks—and Yuna had no intention of wasting it. The morning light filtered through the cracked window of her old apartment, highlighting the peeling walls and cluttered boxes. She stood in the middle of the room, sweat glistening on her forehead as she taped up another carton.

Her lips curled in a mix of disgust and relief. This house—no, this dump—had been nothing but a series of disappointments. She glanced toward the ceiling where a large water stain spread across the kitchen, the memory of it dripping mid-cooking flashing in her mind. Then the bathroom: the tap that hadn't worked since winter, and the balcony railing that creaked so dangerously she never dared lean on it.

And of course, Mrs. Choi.

The name alone made her roll her eyes. The building owner, who never lifted a finger to fix anything, yet appeared sharp on the dot every month to collect rent. Yuna muttered under her breath, "She should pay me for surviving in this haunted box."

Finally, with the last of the boxes taped and labeled, the movers arrived. It didn't take long—she hadn't brought much with her when she moved in, and she wasn't taking much with her when she left. After loading everything into the truck, she followed behind on her scooter, heart light with anticipation.

Her new building was a different world altogether. The entrance gleamed with polished tiles, and the walls bore no stains, no peeling paint. It smelled clean. Maintained. Safe.

Yuna thanked the movers, paid them, and took her keys from the receptionist, who greeted her politely. Her flat was on the 9th floor. She brought her first stack of boxes up, taking a moment to admire the corridor—quiet, bright, even the potted plants looked fresh.

She placed the boxes in front of her new flat, turned to go back for the rest, and entered the elevator again.

As she stepped out a few minutes later with more cartons in hand, the door to the flat right next to hers opened.

Yuna froze.

Of all the people she could've expected to see…

The door creaked open fully, revealing none other than Kang Joon-seok!!

Yuna froze mid-step, cartons in hand, as if time itself had come to a screeching halt. There he stood—stoic, composed, and effortlessly put together.

His dark hair was neatly brushed back, a crisp white shirt under an ironed denim jacket, joggers clean and wrinkle-free. Even the way he leaned on the doorframe looked like a pose from a fashion ad.

And then… there was her.

Hair in a messy bun, thin-framed round reading glasses slipping down her nose, an oversized sweatshirt that made her look like she was drowning in fabric, and baggy pants that made her legs resemble poorly-inflated balloons. She glanced down at her frog-shaped flip-flops and wished the floor would swallow her whole.

Her eyes darted back up.

"G-g-good m-morning… s-sir…"

Joon raised a brow, pulled out his phone, and held it up to her face.

"It's afternoon."

His voice was flat, as always.

The screen read: 12:15 PM.

"R-right. A-afternoon, sir…"

she mumbled, clutching the boxes tighter.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket and leaned against the doorframe more comfortably, eyes casually scanning the boxes piled in front of her flat.

"So… you're staying here? Next door?"

"Y-y-yeah, sir,"

she stammered, cheeks now burning with embarrassment.

He let out a low chuckle, more amused than she'd ever heard him.

"Great."

Yuna didn't know if he meant it or not—but it felt like the universe was playing a prank on her.

He pushed himself off the doorframe and walked toward the elevator.

"See you tomorrow, then," he said as he stepped inside.

The doors closed, leaving Yuna standing in the hallway, holding her box, looking like a very confused, oversized marshmallow.

By evening, Yuna had nearly finished arranging her new flat. The investigation board was pinned neatly on the wall above her desk, red threads and notes already connecting her current thoughts. It was a small, cozy apartment with an open kitchen and warm lighting that gave the place a comforting glow.

She had set up her desk, drilled hooks into the walls for her coats and keys, made her bed, and carefully placed a photo frame on her desk—a picture of her father. She looked at it for a moment, her expression softening.

"I'll find it out soon, Dad. Whoever did this… I'll find them."

With that promise, she grabbed her coat and purse and stepped out for the evening.

It was around 7 p.m., and Joon hadn't returned yet. She glanced at his door briefly before heading down. She stopped at a small restaurant and picked up a takeaway meal, intending to enjoy a quiet dinner back home.

As she passed a bakery on her way back, she hesitated. For a second, she kept walking—but something pulled her back. She turned and walked in.

The bell above the door jingled softly as she entered.

"Welcome, miss. What would you like?"

the lady at the counter asked with a friendly smile.

Yuna looked around before replying,

"hmm...Strawberry and blueberry macarons, please."

The lady nodded and carefully packed them. Yuna paid and walked back to her building, the sweet-smelling box in hand.

When she reached her floor, she noticed Joon's door—he was home. She stood in front of it, hesitating, chewing her lower lip. Then, before she could back out, she rang the bell.

A few seconds passed before the door opened.

Joon stood there in grey sweatpants and a white shirt, towel in hand, drying his damp hair. His expression was blank but curious.

"Hm? What?"

he asked casually.

Yuna quickly held the box up to his face.

"Here."

He blinked, then reached out, gently lowering her hand.

"Macarons?"

She nodded. 

He took the box, raising an eyebrow.

"Strawberry and blueberry?"

"N-no!"

"No?" he asked, amused.

"I mean… the blueberry is mine— strawberry is yours...."

"Blueberry? Huh."

He opened the box slightly and handed it back to her. Their hands brushed for a second longer than necessary.

"You went for takeaway?" he asked.

"Huh? Yeah, I did—" she said quickly.

"Cool," he replied simply.

"Thanks for the macarons."

"Y-you're welcome… then I'll see you tomorrow." she said

"Yeah. Tomorrow." he replied

With that, Joon gave a small nod and closed the door.

Yuna let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding and stepped into her own apartment, her cheeks just a little pink.

[ End of chapter 6 ]