Chapter 5

“…Can’t you speak comfortably?” Shin murmured, leaning in slightly. “None of them can hear us anyway.”

“…They are right around the corner, Major,” Se-woong muttered under his breath.

Though the curve of Shin’s lips remained pleasant, his eyes were cold. In the bustling restaurant, Se-woong’s colleagues couldn’t possibly overhear their exchange from their seats, making Shin visibly displeased by Se-woong’s stubborn refusal to drop the formal honorifics.

Even so, Se-woong could not afford to let his guard down. If he slipped into casual speech, his true feelings—like the petulant complaint he had once blurted out, ‘I hate seeing you meet Min-hyung alone’—might spill past his lips once more.

What kind of expression had Shin worn back then? Se-woong couldn’t quite remember.

Shin tapped his chin as if a sudden thought struck him. “Ah, I nearly forgot. Woong-ah, drop by my place later tonight.”

Just as Se-woong prepared to bow out of the awkward encounter, Shin casually threw out an order to visit his apartment. Lately, these flimsy requests had grown conspicuously frequent. Only a few days earlier, Shin had insisted Se-woong drop by to feed his pet fish because he supposedly hadn’t had the time.

“Your apartment, sir?” Se-woong asked, his brow furrowing.

“You’re not drinking tonight, right?” Shin asked with an unbothered grin. “A delivery arrived at my place, so just swing by on your way home and bring it inside. It’s a laptop I ordered, and what if someone steals it? It was terribly expensive.”

“Expensive…? Hey, you—!” Se-woong hissed, his temper flaring before reason slammed the brakes.

Provoked by Shin’s brazen smirk, a curse had nearly burst from Se-woong’s lips before he forcibly swallowed it down. In his heart, he wanted nothing more than to launch into a venomous tirade starting with ‘You bastard’, but neither his military rank nor his current standing allowed for such recklessness.

Closing his eyes tightly for a beat, Se-woong forced his eyelids open and dragged the corners of his mouth upward.

Se-woong saluted with wooden precision. “Understood, Major.”

At Se-woong’s rigid response, Shin’s expression twitched faintly, as though he had just swallowed a mouthful of caustic liquor. It took only a fraction of a second, however, for his handsome composure to smooth over completely.

Platters of beef with breathtaking marbling were laid out across the dining table. Hyun-woo’s boast that he would prepare top-tier meat had clearly been no idle talk. The moment each slice sizzled to perfection over the charcoal grill, a server transferred it onto each diner’s individual plate.

Major Kang ordered an extra round of premium barley soju. Aged for years at a renowned distillery, the liquor carried a price tag far from modest for a group dinner. Yet the exuberant cheer in Kang’s voice as he placed the order proved that Hyun-woo’s hospitality had thoroughly delighted him.

Small wonder he was pleased, considering their standard cuts of beef had all been upgraded to prime short rib. The difference in price was at least double, allowing Kang to play the generous host without spending an extra dime. Everyone at the table knew they owed this feast to Se-woong’s connection, yet no one was foolish enough to voice it and spoil Major Kang’s triumphant mood.

“It always pays to know a barbecue joint like this,” Major Kang remarked in high spirits. “I heard the owner here is the youngest son of a jewelry tycoon from Jongno. Captain Cha sure keeps impressive company.”

Already thoroughly flushed from the drink, Kang slouched back against his chair. Itching for a cigarette, he idly rolled a disposable lighter between his fingers.

Se-woong kept his tone measured. “I’m not well-acquainted with his family affairs, sir.”

“Come now, how could you not know?” Kang chuckled with a dismissive wave. “Looking at you, Captain Cha, between Major Lee Shin and the owner of this restaurant, you certainly know how to pick the most profitable friends, don’t you? Friends like that always end up paying off.”

Se-woong quietly filled Major Kang’s empty shot glass with soju. The crystal-clear liquid swirled gently inside the cup, poured with practiced precision neither too full nor too shallow.

Swirling the liquor in his glass, Major Kang sneered, “Whenever I have to bow my head and say ‘Yes, sir, right away’ to academy classmates who got promoted ahead of me, my fucking legs shake with rage. It’s sickening. But our Captain Cha… you accommodate people so well. I was never good at kissing ass, which is why my own promotion lagged behind.”

Though Kang’s jab was clearly mocking Se-woong’s deferential attitude toward Lee Shin, Se-woong paid it no mind. If anything, he felt relieved that his conduct in front of Shin had appeared that way to outside eyes.

From the very first day Se-woong reported to the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Major Kang had looked upon him with disfavor. One only had to observe how trivial chores that should never have reached a captain’s desk were dumped exclusively onto him to understand Kang’s petty motives.

“You bust your ass rotating through desolate border outposts, drafting tactical operations, and studying foreign languages late into the night,” Kang grumbled, slamming his glass onto the table. “You pull all that shit, and some random bastard born holding a golden lifeline gets promoted instead. Isn’t that right, Captain Cha?”

“…”

Waving his lighter in the air, Kang clicked his tongue and barked, “So don’t act so high and mighty, Captain Cha! Exploit the friend born with a golden lifeline, milk the rich buddy for all he’s worth, eh? Then again, you’re cruising along a paved highway yourself, so why would you ever worry about promotions?”

“Why wouldn’t I worry, sir?” Se-woong replied evenly.

“Whatever,” Kang scoffed, reaching for the bottle. “Just take a glass. Don’t try to weasel out of it claiming you don’t drink.”

Major Kang reached across the table and flipped over the shot glass sitting upside down in front of Se-woong.

While Kang was certainly not devoid of malice, he was fundamentally a simple man. Could one truly condemn someone for being transparent about their own selfish desires?

In the military, social life was ultimately tethered to promotion. In an institution strictly governed by rank, lagging behind meant bowing to classmates and juniors as superiors—a fate that steadily corroded a man’s pride.

Within this merciless hierarchy, Major Kang’s promotion had already fallen behind schedule. The fact that he had belatedly secured a post at the Joint Chiefs of Staff—and in the Chairman’s Secretariat, no less—was the sole crutch propping up his battered ego. If he missed this promotional cycle, his next assignment would likely banish him back to the front lines, so Se-woong could understand his desperate anxiety.

At the end of the day, Kang was merely struggling with all his might to avoid being discarded by the organization. Even if salvaging his petty pride meant squandering his own reputation and tossing aside goodwill, that was the path he chose.

“Come now, Major, you know Captain Cha can’t handle alcohol,” Hee-chan interjected smoothly. “I’ll gladly drink in his stead. Hand the bottle over to me, sir.”

Before Major Kang could tip the bottle into Se-woong’s glass, the administrative officer deftly slid his own cup into its path, smiling warmly as he intercepted the pour.

Shaking his head in exasperation, Major Kang complained, “There you go again! Officer Oh, favoring Captain Cha won’t do you any good—he’s heading back to the field before long. You’ve sat in that secretariat chair watching officer after officer rotate out, yet you still get so attached?”

Hee-chan gave a cheeky grin. “Tell me about it, sir. I’m practically dripping with affection wherever I go. By the way, Major, isn’t the bride-to-be joining us tonight? Rumors are swirling all over headquarters that she’s an absolute beauty.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that much,” Kang mumbled, waving a hand in faux modesty.

Leaning forward with theatrical enthusiasm, Hee-chan teased, “Oh, don’t be modest, sir, I heard everything! Captain Yong over at Defense Intelligence saw you two at that shopping mall in Yeouido and swore he thought you were with a movie star!”

Thoroughly flattered by Hee-chan’s shameless banter, Major Kang couldn’t suppress the twitching grin spreading across his face.

Glasses clinked all around as lively and heated chatter filled the air. Somewhere a service bell chimed, patrons called out for servers at the top of their lungs, and despite being an upscale barbecue restaurant, the dining room bustled like any other eatery, trapping the clamor within its walls.

“By the way, Captain Cha, how long have you and Major Lee Shin been this close?” Hee-chan asked, having emptied several consecutive glasses on Se-woong’s behalf. “I heard cadet dorms at the Military Academy reassign roommates every semester. How did the two of you end up sharing a room so many times?”

The moment Hee-chan posed the question, the table fell abruptly silent. Se-woong was strictly a workaholic, so even after months of working alongside him, none of his colleagues had ever heard a word about his personal life. Evidently harboring a quiet curiosity of their own, everyone zeroed in on Se-woong’s lips.

Looking at them waiting like baby swallows with open beaks for food, Se-woong let out a bashful chuckle. At his rare smile, their eyes sparkled as though they were witnessing something truly captivating.

“It wasn’t like we shared a room that many times,” Se-woong replied modestly.

Though his reply had been utterly unremarkable, the officers leaned in as intently as gamblers awaiting the lottery numbers.

Then again, sharing quarters continuously from their junior year right up to graduation was indeed an anomaly. The cadet capacity in Hwarang Hall had been reduced, leading to an unexpected reassignment to the same room, and during their senior year, a similar reshuffling paired them together once more. In hindsight it felt like an extraordinary stroke of fate, but back then, it had simply been a sequence of coincidences.

With an awkward shrug, Se-woong confessed, “It’s really quite dull… The dorm roster shrank, so we just happened to be assigned together. Our class had an unusually high number of dropouts and leaves of absence.”

“Major Lee, I mean,” Hee-chan mused, resting his chin on his palm. “He walks around with that pleasant smile, yet there’s a formidable wall around him, isn’t there? When Captain Yong from Defense Intelligence heard you two were close, he was f—I mean, utterly shocked.”

Listening to Hee-chan’s remark, Staff Sergeant Kim, the youngest member of the Secretariat, pouted sullenly.

“Officer Oh, are you dating Captain Yong—why are you always harping on about him? Besides, for someone serving in Defense Intelligence, Captain Yong’s mouth is awfully loose…” Staff Sergeant Kim complained sullenly.

Hee-chan shot back playfully with a grin. “Harping? Are you looking to cut loose and go AWOL, Sergeant Kim? Why harbor such reckless thoughts after working so hard to reach the Joint Chiefs? If you want out, just wait for your honorable discharge, all right?”

With an easygoing warmth, Hee-chan indulged the junior sergeant’s pout, gently deflecting his reluctance to speak ill of a superior officer.

Having always looked up to Hee-chan, Staff Sergeant Kim was clearly sullen that the administrative officer appeared closer to Captain Yong than to himself. It was understandable. In a barren, rigid military post, when someone offered a touch of genuine warmth, it was only human nature to want to lean on it.

Cha Se-woong had been no different when it came to Lee Shin—though their years of relentless fighting had far outweighed any peaceful camaraderie.

It felt foolish to drown in sentimentality over a fleeting memory of their academy days, yet they had been lovers for eight long years. Counting their time as classmates, the decade was long enough to reshape rivers and mountains. With only a single person occupying the entirety of those years, and with even that now relegated to the past, perhaps he could be forgiven for indulging in a little melancholy.

Tracing the rim of his untouched shot glass with his fingertip, Se-woong wished he could down just one drink. Yet his rigidly sensible conscience reminded him that he still had to stop by Lee Shin’s apartment later tonight.

Is he still upstairs with Min-hyung? Most likely.

Ordering him to run a ridiculous errand while he drove Min-hyung home—just picturing Shin by her side made a sting of unconsumed liquor surge into Se-woong’s throat. Should I just drink this and tell him I can’t come because I’m drunk?

Who will Shin end up marrying? Will it be Min-hyung, just as his father always wished? He said his family had their eyes on her since they were children.

Deep down, I really don’t want to know who he marries.

“At any rate, it’s fascinating that you two are so close,” Hee-chan mused aloud, resting his chin in his hand. “I mean, when the two of you hang out, do you play console games together? You love soccer games, don’t you, Captain Cha?”

Draining his final glass, Major Kang barked, “What’s so special about academy classmates being close? Everyone has bonds like that. All right, all right, let’s pack it up and get moving.”

The abrupt interjection effectively shut down Hee-chan’s line of questioning—or more accurately, threw cold water on the conversation. Unhappy that the spotlight had drifted away from the celebration he had hosted, Kang put an end to the gathering just as the freshly ordered bottle of barley soju ran dry.

At Kang’s command, everyone promptly cleared their things and rose to their feet. True to their military discipline, even their finished table was left in immaculate order.

“Watching a classmate you were close to get promoted ahead of you means you have to bow your head, say yes, sir, and follow orders whether you like it or not—what’s so wonderful about that? Why do you keep pestering him about how close they were, Officer Oh? It’s not like you’re trying to rub salt in his wounds,” Kang muttered under his breath.

Hee-chan blinked in fluster, waving his hands. “Pardon? Ah, that wasn’t my intention at all…”

“Fascinating? It must be an absolute nightmare,” Kang scoffed, pulling out his wallet. “How could a civilian like you ever understand how wretched that feels? You wouldn’t have the faintest clue.”