So Hee entered Seoul Station early, the morning sun painting the walls in warm, golden streaks. The hum of the station was already alive: phones ringing, officers exchanging updates, the faint aroma of coffee drifting from the break room. She adjusted her badge and began her rounds, her mind unusually preoccupied.
It wasn't the cases. The reports, the minor disputes, even the lost-pet follow-ups—those were easy, routine. Yet, her thoughts kept drifting to Soo Bin.
It's just admiration. Sunbae-noonbae respect. She repeated it like a mantra.
But every time Soo Bin approached, fluttering slightly as she balanced her notebook and a stack of forms, So Hee felt her chest tighten just a little. It was subtle, almost imperceptible—but enough to make her pause before speaking. She caught herself glancing at Soo Bin as the girl laughed with the newer recruits, the sunlight catching the soft curve of her hair. So Hee quickly averted her gaze. Focus. Respect. Mentorship.
Their first minor assignment of the day was a follow-up on a neighborhood complaint: a small dispute between neighbors over shared parking. Soo Bin's energy immediately went into action—asking questions politely but with a spark of confidence, organizing the facts, and making notes with a bright determination.
So Hee observed quietly, her calmness the perfect counterbalance to Soo Bin's extroverted energy. Yet she felt an unexpected warmth as Soo Bin laughed at a small joke the neighbor made. So Hee couldn't explain it—she told herself it was pride in a junior doing well.
During the interaction, Soo Bin's hand accidentally brushed against So Hee's as she handed over a form. So Hee felt a sudden, quick shiver she tried to ignore. It's just contact. Mentorship. Nothing else.
Later, back at the station, So Hee found herself glancing at Soo Bin more than usual. The intern had a way of making even mundane paperwork feel lighter. Her energetic voice while explaining reports to the newer recruits, the little details she noticed in the neighborhood follow-ups, the small gestures of care for everyone around her—it all made So Hee's chest feel uncomfortably warm.
During a brief break, she walked to the vending machine to grab a coffee. Soo Bin arrived a moment later, humming softly, and reached for a bottle of juice. Their arms brushed again. So Hee flinched slightly, her mind scrambling for rational explanations. Just nerves. Don't read into it.
Yet she couldn't deny that when Soo Bin laughed at a casual joke, her heart felt lighter. When Soo Bin's eyes sparkled with curiosity over a minor detail in the reports, So Hee found herself lingering on the expression longer than necessary. Admiration. Mentorship. Respect. She repeated the mantra, trying to convince herself. But deep down, she couldn't fully deny the pull she was feeling—an unfamiliar, quiet stirring of emotion.
By the end of the day, So Hee left the station and walked home quietly, lost in thought. She forced herself to reflect on mundane things—household chores she needed to do, the brief errands she had planned—but her mind kept circling back to Soo Bin. It's just mentorship. I'm just fond of her as a junior. That's all.
Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something had subtly changed, that a small crack had formed in her carefully maintained detachment. And she didn't know it yet—but that crack would only grow.