JD 19

Kang Hakyung was acting strange. Well, he’d always been a little weird, but lately, he’d been really strange. Muheon narrowed his eyes as he looked at Hakyung’s back.

Even though they ate breakfast together every morning, Hakyung hadn’t looked him in the eye once. And the mouth that used to chatter non-stop was now tightly shut. Muheon wondered if cooking breakfast had become a burden or if something had irritated him, but judging by the feast that was still laid out every morning, that didn’t seem to be the case.

What irritated him the most was that Hakyung still smiled brightly when talking to the other sea creatures. But the moment Muheon showed up in the office, his expression would go cold like he’d never smiled at all… Every time, it left Muheon in a foul mood.

After observing the river dolphin for several days, Muheon finally couldn’t take it anymore and called Hakyung into his office.

Knock knock—a yellow cap peeked around the door.

“You called for me?”

“Yeah. Come in.”

Muheon gestured toward the sofa. Hakyung followed his finger and sat down, but kept fidgeting with his hands as if anxious about something. That in itself was bothering. Like a puppy that needed to poop—nervous and restless.

Muheon stared at Hakyung in silence for a while before sighing quietly. The sound echoed in the stillness of the office, and Hakyung flinched at it.

“What’s going on?”

“Sorry?”

“Why’ve you been acting so weird lately?”

The blunt question hit him head-on, no sugarcoating at all, and Hakyung’s blowhole pulsed in shock. He reached up and pressed his scalp with his palm to calm it down.

Given his recent behavior, even a usually indifferent boss like Muheon would’ve noticed something was off. Every night, Hakyung would tell himself don’t act weird tomorrow, but every morning, the moment he saw his boss’s face, his cheeks would flush and his heart would start pounding like crazy.

This wasn’t something Hakyung could control. The only thing that helped was avoiding the president’s face. The fact that his own body reacted that way drove him absolutely insane.

He’d toss and turn all night, missing Muheon, only to panic and run the other way when morning came. He wanted to see him, but he didn’t want to see him… the worst dilemma of Hakyung’s life.

So he ended up acting extra suspicious only when Muheon was around. He should’ve been trying to make a good impression, but instead, he was blowing it.

“…I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t say that to get an apology. Is something bothering you at work?”

“No, not at all! I’m super happy with all the great benefits!”

Like the benefit of seeing your face every day, he added silently, fingers twitching again.

“So then… do you just hate looking at me?”

“No! Definitely not! That’s not it at all! I like looking at you!”

“Oh… really?”

Coming from someone with his head bowed the whole time, that didn’t sound convincing at all. Even after stepping into the office, all Muheon had seen was Hakyung’s yellow cap, and he was starting to get pissed.

He reached out and hooked a finger under Hakyung’s chin. Before he could react, Hakyung’s face was tilted up by Muheon’s firm grip.

“If you’re going to say that, look me in the eye so I can believe it.”

That devastatingly handsome face, paired with that deep voice, went straight through Hakyung’s eyes and ears—and he exploded on the spot.

As Hakyung flushed dark red once again, Muheon clicked his tongue. Maybe it was because he’d lived in freshwater all his life, but this one was way too sensitive.

If only Muheon could’ve peeked into the storm raging inside Hakyung’s head, he’d know this had nothing to do with freshwater. But unfortunately, he was completely clueless.

“…I like you, boss.”

“I see.”

With his chin held in place and nowhere to hide, Hakyung found himself blurting out a confession before he even realized it. Of course, there was no response.

Still, Muheon was somewhat relieved—it meant Hakyung didn’t completely despise him. And Hakyung, for his part, felt a bit of relief for finally letting at least a part of his feelings slip out.

Having been forced to look at him for a while, Hakyung’s heart started to find a little peace. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like suffocating anymore when he looked at Muheon’s face.

His flush faded from deep red to something more like a ripe apple, and he began openly staring at Muheon’s face. After all, his chin was still being held—he had a great excuse. So really, there was no reason not to stare as much as he wanted.

“Whoa…!”

The exclamation slipped out on its own. How could the president’s face be so three-dimensionally sculpted? His nose was high, his brow deep, and his forehead curved so perfectly—it made Hakyung wonder if he had some Western blood mixed in somewhere down the line.

Muheon raised an eyebrow as he caught the dazed look in Hakyung’s eyes, like he was under a spell.

He had no idea how to keep up with this tiny river dolphin. Maybe this was just how kids were these days.

***

Ever since that conversation where Hakyung had blurted out his feelings, he was able to look at Muheon’s face freely. The problem was, now he wanted to see it all the time.

Muheon was usually in the office, but once every two or three days, he would go out. Hakyung guessed it had something to do with collecting the fees he’d mentioned before.

Every time that happened, Hakyung got sulky. Of all the jobs in the world, why this one…! He couldn’t even bring it up to his grandmother, who called daily to ask about his boss. Not that that was the only thing eating at him, but still…

It was during lunch, as he sat on a bench soaking up the sun under the pretense of “photosynthesis,” that he found himself once again thinking about the president.

“It’s still chilly out.”

“Oh—Boss!”

Before he realized it, Muheon had come up to the rooftop and sat beside him, laying a thick, soft blanket over his lap. Touched by the warm gesture, Hakyung bowed his head deeply.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t catch a cold from the spring chill. Dress warm.”

Even though Muheon was only in his thirties, the more than ten-year age gap showed in these little moments.

“You sound just like my grandma.”

Hakyung giggled, his shoulders bouncing. He’d heard those exact same words from his grandma on the phone the night before, and now hearing them from the president made it feel both funny and surreal.

“Well, I’ve lived a bit longer, that’s all…”

To Muheon, Hakyung’s grandma was still basically a kid, but he didn’t say that out loud. The last thing he wanted was to scare off the river dolphin just when he’d started opening up again.

Muheon unfolded the blanket and wrapped it around Hakyung’s shoulders and down to his thighs. To him, it was just something natural to do for someone younger, but from Hakyung’s side, it felt like a crime.

This guilty sea eel of a man! You treat me so kindly, no wonder my poor river dolphin heart keeps getting all stirred up!

Swallowing the urge to scream, Hakyung clenched the blanket tightly instead. He sneaked a glance at Muheon and—yep, still handsome.

If it weren’t for the age gap, the gender, the species, and the job, he’d confess right here and now… Well, basically, everything but the face was a problem. Still, Hakyung let his thoughts wander.

He couldn’t change being born a sea eel beastman. He couldn’t undo being born twelve years too early. He couldn’t change his set gender either. But the job—maybe, maybe that was negotiable?

And Hakyung wasn’t the type to hesitate when it came to voicing such things.

“Boss, about your job…”

“Hm?”

Muheon, who’d been gazing up at the sky, turned his eyes to Hakyung. It was a sign to go on.

“Have you ever thought about changing fields? It seems kind of dangerous…”

“My job?”

“Yes. I mean, going out to collect fees and all… Something could happen. And if you don’t get your payments on time, wouldn’t that be a financial loss?”

Muheon tilted his head at the unexpected outpouring of concern.

The territory fees were necessary to support the fish who came ashore—his employees worked hard to help with that, and it was only fair. As for the “tribute” payments, those were basically taxes every resident of the West Sea had to pay.

It wasn’t a system Muheon had invented. It had existed long before him, passed down by the imugis who’d ruled the West Sea. So what exactly was dangerous about it? And what did he mean by “not getting paid on time”…?

“This isn’t something I can just quit. It’s like a family business, passed down for generations.”

“A f-family business…?”

“That’s the simplest way to put it, so you’ll understand.”

Just as he couldn’t stop being a imugi, he couldn’t quit this role. He and the West Sea were inseparable.

But to freshwater beastmen like Hakyung, who had lived among humans their whole lives, things like imugis and underwater rule probably sounded like fantasy.

Still, Muheon made the effort to explain as kindly as possible—and that only made Hakyung’s mind spin even more.