Work Text:
Choi Hee-jae's life had been rebuilt again from the ground up. He had to give up his guns. He has his beautiful, lovely wife back. He had missed her. Eating her food, massaging her feet, getting insane requests for house furniture he has no idea how to make — because she really thought he was good at it, and it was so adorable he couldn't just say he didn't know how to. He dreamed of having that back. He mentally positioned brick after brick in the imaginary house he'd raise his son in, a son who grew older and older in his mind until he had to accept that the son wouldn't want him back.
He had imagined a family. He had imagined rejection. But no one could've warned him about Oh In-joo.
A few months ago, she had started coming over. Extensively, to check up on them. In reality, to gossip and drink tea with his wife So-young while her sisters were abroad. They didn't mind.
“Do you want a tangerine, ahjussi?” she asked from the sofa, where she was watching a drama with his wife — something that contained both murder and a suspicious amount of giggling everytime the lead male turned around.
“Sure.” he said hesitantly, then not yet used to In-joo commandeering his house — to his wife's great pleasure.
In-joo threw him one. Unpeeled. He looked up at So-young with puzzlement. He grew unused to interactions with other humans. His wife looked like the cat who got the cream, and he honestly didn't get it. In-joo's attention was half-focused on the TV and half-focused on unpeeling another tangerine.
“Did you see that look?” In-joo asks So-young, scandalized “He must be the murder! And we don't know where he was that day!”
So-young shakes her head.
“No, but when he helped her in the past episode he had the perfect chance—”
They keep going back and forth on the issue. He is supposed to go water the plants now that his little break is over, but he sees it. The tangerine is wordlessly passed to So-young, mid bantering.
That night, when In-joo leaves with pots of food, he questions his wife.
“She's a nice girl,” he starts softly in order to establish he's really just curious “but why do you like having her around so much?”
So-young looks confused.
“What do you mean? In-joo is a nice girl, just like you said. She's good company.”
“Today, you were so happy. When you were watching TV.”
She seems to understand. After all, he was always a bit like that, socially confused, even before being isolated for years.
“It just… it's almost like I have a daughter in law. I used to imagine, in prison. Having a girl to cook with me, gossip with me. Because it would mean that my son was well and that he forgave me.” her eyes well up on tears and he hugs her “He isn't with us here, but it's almost like he is. She's so good, too. Everything I would've wanted for him.”
Now, it's been a year since everything ended with Jeongram Society, but back then, the memory of In-joo crying over his body and by his bedside when she thought he was hurt was fresh. The sobbing and the reassurances she kept muttering in between them — you're going to be fine, we're almost at the hospital, Do-il is going to come.
He nodded. He had no idea of what his estranged son would think of it — he wondered if the fact that he'd bet Do-il is in love with her means he'd be even more annoyed — but he could live out his wife's fantasy. And he did, the next few months. He picked up fruits when they wanted to bake pies, he needlessly bickered with In-joo over politics, he held up their bags when they went shopping, he gracefully replaced In-joo's showerhead and hinges at two different occasions. In-joo handed him fruits and helped him pick a nice birthday present for So-young. She was funny and she made his wife happy, and at some point he started liking this pseudo daughter in law thing way more than he should.
So when she cancels the day she was supposed to come to help pick the apples — half an excuse but also, free labor —, he's worried. She normally plans other things on saturdays and visited on sundays.
On the phone, she sounded annoyed and resigned, promising she'd explain it next sunday.
Next sunday came around and In-joo hugged them tightly. They didn't ask for her explanation. She helped make lunch and tidy the kitchen and they watched their new drama. Late afternoon, they were sat outside on a patch of sunlight.
“So, what happened last sunday?” he asks, getting his wife's elbow on his side.
In-joo stopped midway to opening a can of peach soda. She looked geared up to complain.
“Ugh. Let me tell you, it's incredible how some people are shameless—”
Her phone ringed. She looked apologetic, but accepted the call.
“What do you want?” it's brisk, and not like her at all. She huffs. “I didn't even see your mom that much when we were married.”
Oh? He and his wife lock eyes. He raises his eyebrows, to ask ‘did you know about this?’. So-young shakes her head but seems to have an idea of it.
“That's the only reason I visited. Why would we eat— No. Look, I'm busy. We can talk later about another visit. Will you just— ok, fine. Stop talking to me.” and she hangs up. Just like that. Not very on brand.
She looks apologetic again and goes back to the cans of soda.
“My mother in law, ex husband's mom, has dementia and she really misses me. He said she kept asking about me and my cooking and begged me to visit her. Now he wants to have dinner.” she looks displeased.
“Dinner?” is the only thing he can think of asking.
“Aish. He keeps calling me. And I know exactly what he wants.”
“You do?” and what does she think of her ex-husband trying to reconcile?
“He wants me to become the primary caretaker. He got money again for a maid but he always insisted on me doing things when we were married. He's like that.”
He holds back from commenting on it. The ex-husband had the money for a caretaker and insisted they all had dinner together? He certainly was milking an opportunity, considering just how hostile In-joo is to him.
✧
He approaches a phone booth. Reading the crumbled paper, he rings the number. Do-il had given him an emergency phone number to call only in, well, emergencies. The phone rang until it finally connected.
“Speak.”
“Don't get angry.” and he can hear the angry humming from the other side, just like his mom, so he crams the next part before Do-il hangs up on him “No one is hurt. I know you told your mom you'd come back when things calmed down, but if you like In-joo, I'd suggest coming before her ex-husband gets there first.”
A beat.
A sharp “What?” breaks the silence.
“Well,” he drags it out, now unsure “we all know you're in love with In-joo.”
Do-il laughs.
“We all know?”
Hee-jae clicks his tongue. He better not be in denial, or Hee-jae would need to find some other way of getting his daughter in law back definitively. He cannot produce another son fast enough. Maybe an adult adoption? He'd let her pick one.
“You aren't? Aigoo. Sorry for clogging up your emergency line, then. Guess we'll need to leave the ex-husband to it.”
He hears a huff from the other side of the line.
“What's happening?” Do-il asks, and just like that, Hee-jae knows he's coming back.
✧
Do-il cannot believe himself, coming off the plane in Seoul. He's not faring much better when he stands in front of his mother's house. He thinks it sounds less suspicious, at least, if he comes to visit her first. Her and her… husband. His supposed father. But Do-il will lay off on him, for giving him a lead on a very important matter, if nothing else.
While entirely possible, he was unable to deny he missed In-joo. At first, he kept wanting to talk to her, tucking away some thoughts away for ‘when he saw her’ before remembering he wasn't going to. Worse was when he dejectedly stopped expecting to see her. And now… he was a few steps away from meeting her again. He just needed to talk to his mom first. He enters the door code Hee-jae had given him over the phone.
“There's no need to get upset, dear. I'm sure she'll come back.” he can hear Hee-jae say.
“Do you think that Gu's mother cooks better?” his mother asks, completely ignoring her husband.
Hm? He approaches the kitchen, where they sound to be.
“You know In-joo is the one who’s going to cook.” He notes that his father— Hee-jae doesn’t seem annoyed, just mildly exasperated. Then it hits him. In-joo? In his flurry to leave the country before his guts left him, because what the fuck is he even going to do when he sees In-joo, he did something very uncharacteristic. He didn’t even consider how Hee-jae knew that In-joo’s husband was back on the board.
His mother scoffs. “As if that poor girl hadn’t cooked enough in her life.” his mom continues, apparently fixated on staying angry.
✧
Needless to say, when Do-il parks down at the street of In-joo's new address, he isn't happy to see an imported car waiting for him. Still, he gathers his courage and gets out of the car — he could ask where's the man who risked his very life for In-joo, his freedom, but that's much easier, he knows.
When In-joo's sister mentioned her scummy ex-husband who drowned in debt, he expected… something else. Like the sort of dude that wore those awful animal print shirts or walked around in a crumpled hawaiian shirt. But that's In-kyung's fault, isn't it, because she made In-joo sound dumb. And he'd believed it, bought it as part of this idea that she was vulnerable and needed protection.
The man holding In-joo's hands was a huge wall of muscle, sure, but he was dressed in a sensible suit and looked put-together. Not a scummy drunkard.
“Please, In-joo-ah.” he pleaded softly, locking eyes with her and worst of all, looking earnest.
In-joo pulls her hands back and he looks like she slapped him. Mouth slack and eyes hurt. Good.
“Stop, Wung-ah.” she sighs.
“I didn't mean to get us in trouble, you need to believe me.” he continues, trying to move along In-joo's eyes instead of manhandling her into looking at him. “All I ever wanted was to give you a good life.”
In-joo snorts.
“Wung-ah,” she calls out calmly “I know that.”
Do-il's heart plummets and he thinks he should just go up there and ruin it. He should play dirty. Take this dude's moment. Except, if this really was his moment, it would be In-joo's too. She went through fire and brimstone, then, to stop being a settler. He'd never want to be the guy who was more convenient, anyway. The one who won her over with more showmanship.
“It doesn't matter.” she completes.
He feels, physically, that he ‘huh’ed. But Wung did too, and much louder.
“But what happens the next time you're tight with money and are too ashamed to tell me? Will I just… find you beaten to a pulp, again? And that's not even the point.”
“I wouldn't do illegal things again, I swear. I'd run anything by you first—”
“The problem is that you're bad at the crimes, Wung-ah!” she screams, finally losing her cool. Do-il momentarily worries about her safety, but Wung just looks very abashed.
Then something flashes through his face.
“And what's… what's the point?” Wung asks, hands hovering over her arms, like he wants to hold her.
“I'm in love with someone else.” Do-il doesn't even have it in himself to gasp, but at least he didn't embarrass himself by badging in. “Have been. It's been years, Wung. Did you just think you'd swoop in, now that you're made in life, and I'd jump at the opportunity?” she finishes, gesturing up violently.
“No,” he says, like she must've been mistaken. “No one knows you better than me. I want to take care of you. Where even is this man?”
In-joo has been getting progressively redder the longer that conversation wears on and all Do-il can think of is that he didn't want the first time he talks to her after a whole year — and a little bit over that — to be after she's done with this game of endurance. He doesn't want to believe he's superior, either. This is clearly an In-joo issue and the ex doesn't seem like the violent type of guy. Just a little bit pathetic, but he can relate. And he can respect the fact that he waited until his life was put together before bothering In-joo.
“Yah! It's none of your business.” She screams, voice trembling, and Do-il immediately wants to punch whomever is this guy that In-joo met. There's two men right here being pathetic for her and where's her knight in shining armor? “I just want you to leave me alone. No more calls, no more visits.”
“Then convince me. Is he a boring little office boy?” Wung disdains, sensing weakness at the same time as Do-il. “Is he also in finance? Or is he in marketing, a soft soul? Like that one guy that trailed after you like a lost puppy when we were married. He was young, too. Obstinate. And— Oh, God!” He claps loudly, looking 50/50 on delighted and manic. “Is it him? What was his name?! Oh, uh… Baby, I remember I called him Baby, but what was his name?”
“No.” In-joo cuts him off, confidence seemingly regained and a little bit manic herself. He understands what was In-kyung's problem with him, suddenly, because if she ever saw her reliable older sister get like that with her husband… well. In-joo is a patient, ‘death by a thousand cuts’ type of person, so this anger must've been eating at her. “It's not a cute younger man. And it was Babi, by the way. Bah-bi. And I should've fucked him, then. Might as well let him fuck me. But no. No. He's a criminal. And he is much better at it than you could ever hope to be.”
Do-il is certainly going to have some thoughts about Babi and this whole deal when he lays down in bed later, but— He's a…? Criminal? In-joo is in love with a criminal?
Wung chest points out and he squares up.
“So you've gone lower?” he scoffs “Is that what you're saying? You deserve so much better than that.”
In-joo laughs softly, like it's the first part of this encounter that amuses her. She cocks her head.
“What? Better than you? He is. He protects me, he's honest. Reliable. Never breaks his promises.”
Wung doesn't seem impressed. And neither is Do-il. Is this man her car's insurance dealer? He is reliable, for all it's worth. Let to rot in an airport three times.
“Is he some old man? That's some weird attributes. A sugar daddy, maybe.”
It's a mean thing to imply about In-joo, and as someone who grew up in poverty like her, he's immediately offended for her. But, uh. Yeah.
“Oh, he isn't. Has a great ass, if you're so curious. I was just listing the many things he's better at you at.” Ouch. “Despite never promising anything, like you did. He's just…” a tiny little smile breaks her anger facade “naturally good. He all but promised that he'd fuck me over, and then protected me from everyone else. I guess Do-il is just better than you could ever hope to be.” she shrugs.
Do-il suddenly can't hear anything else. Him? He's her knight in shining armor? In any other situation he'd have a bone to pick with being called a criminal, but he's also been called many other things. Things he's never heard. Honest. Reliable. Naturally good. He's heard about his great ass, but it's still nice.
“And where is this great, superior man?” Wung questions.
An “In-joo!” stumbles out of his mouth without his permission. Oh well. He strides confidently in their direction.
He places an arm around her shoulders and tries not to look like he's relishing to be able to finally touch her.
“Do-il.” she answers, voice soft, in complete disbelief.
“Hi.” he runs his hand over her hair “I ended my trip early to come see you.”
“You did?”
Wung scoffs. And any sympathy or camaraderie he's felt for him these past minutes are gone. RIP to Wung but he's built different. He's the knight in shining armor and that's all that matters.
“You should leave.” He says, looking Wung straight on, and surely he's taller than Do-il but it doesn't mean much. “Or I'll get my gun involved in this.”
They watch Wung leave, huffing and puffing, and once he's certainly gone, In-joo asks a question.
“Do you really have gun right now?”
He ponders whether he's honest or not.
“I do.”
She blinks.
“Is it wrong that it kind of turns me on?” she whispers.
“Only if it's wrong that I want to see how your apartment looks inside.” he whispers back, kissing her softly.
She returns the kiss, holding the back of his head. Slowly, her hand lowers until it's holding his.
“Let's go, then. You can see the Han river from my living room.” She says, excited, as she starts to drag him to the entrance. She blinks up at him, a knowing glint to her eyes. “Unless that's not what you meant.”
He lifts a brow. “That's exactly what I meant. Did you think of something else?”
In-joo clicks her tongue, resting her back to the door. “Aigoo. No, no. Are you sleeping at your parents house later? Maybe you can get a tour tomorrow.”
He chuckles, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Uhm…” He pretends to consider. “Maybe I do want something else.”
She giggles, and he's absolutely delighted. In-joo slides in the keycard and the door opens with a click.
“Come on in, Do-il-ssi.” she teases, pulling him by the tie.