The early morning sunlight streamed into Seoul Station, casting long, warm beams across the polished floors. Kim So Hee, 28, straightened her badge and checked the roster for the day. Everything was routine, as always, yet there was a faint flutter in her chest she didn't quite understand.
It was silly. She shook her head. I'm just noticing the intern again.
Ahn Soo Bin, 24, bounded in with her usual bright smile, carrying her notebook like it was a treasured possession. She greeted everyone cheerfully, even the newer recruits who looked nervous. So Hee watched silently, noting the way Soo Bin moved naturally among the team, drawing people in with her energy and kindness.
Admiration, that's all it is, So Hee told herself. Sunbae-noonbae respect.
During a minor neighborhood check, a small lost-pet report came in. Soo Bin immediately leaped into action, asking questions of the owner, organizing the details, and suggesting ideas with her usual enthusiastic confidence.
So Hee followed, calmly observing, and—without realizing it—felt a small warmth when Soo Bin laughed after a tiny mishap with a leash. She pushed the feeling aside quickly. It's just her energy. Nothing else.
Later, in the station break room, Soo Bin animatedly recounted the encounter with the dog owner, gesturing wildly, cheeks flushed with excitement. So Hee allowed herself a small smile. The girl was so bright, so alive. This is just admiration. That's all it is.