Chapter Text
❝ Well, we saw each other, and he smiled. And... And l knew that... my life would never be the same. ❞
While You Were Sleeping
The blizzard raged endlessly outside, filling every street of festive Seoul. The wind drove the snow along the houses, piling it on windowsills and lanterns, blurring the familiar outlines of the roads. It was only December twentieth, yet the city was so completely covered that it seemed winter had decided to make up for lost time in a single night. Amidst the swirling snowflakes, her daughter Gayeong’s eyes sparkled with a special light, and her little hands reached instinctively toward the window. As soon as the snowflakes landed on her tiny palms, a clear, joyful voice rang out: “Mom! Mom! Look, I caught one!”
Gayeong loved winter, even though she was born in summer. To her, the snow was like magical dust from the cartoons she watched on Saturdays after school, sitting close to the screen and forgetting the world around her.
But the blizzard outside hardly resembled a fairy tale. It wasn’t like those small, harmless white flakes her daughter adored. It felt more like a curse from the heavens. And she still had to leave the cozy apartment and make her way to work through the biting cold.
Work, right…
Life for Seong Gihun, the same chatterbox from Ssangmundong who used to skip classes, could hardly be called sweet like ripe grapes. It was more like a shriveled raisin: edible, tolerable, but long stripped of freshness and vibrant flavor.
And yet, it had all started so well. Around twenty, she enrolled in a technical college, soon landed a job, and eventually met her future husband. Always striking, with cherry-red lips and voluminous, unruly curls, carefree was practically her second name.
She repaired cars, drawing both surprise and distrust from men who grimaced and exchanged looks at the sight of a female mechanic. Yet they trusted their vehicles to her hands—her responsibility and attention to detail spoke for themselves. Her mother often said, “You may be a scatterbrain and never stop talking, but your hands are golden.” Gihun saw it reflected in her mother’s eyes, and that was enough.
On weekends, she and Jungbae would head out to bars, laughing louder than they probably should, sipping peach-flavored soju, and believing there was plenty of time ahead to worry about anything. In the rare moments of freedom, Gihun would dash over to her mother’s for bungeoppang and fried squid, listening as her mother mused about grandchildren and her own life.
In this, perhaps simple yet slightly full routine, she lived and breathed. When you grow up, you no longer reach for the stars, you just live in the moment and try to enjoy each day. That was the case until the Christmas when she met her ill-fated husband.
Kang Eun-jun was charming. The first time she saw him, he simply smiled, tilted his head slightly, and hurried off to his morning errands at the bus stop. Her heart fluttered as if for the first time, despite Jongbae and his girlfriend Hani snickering. But the heart obeys no one, it chooses blindly, and love simply hadn’t been on her side.
Eventually, she married Eun-jun. At first, the marriage, like the birth of her child, seemed perfect. But the second year proved harder. Money grew scarce, chores multiplied, and the strain broke their relationship. Eun-jun, like her, couldn’t hold on. Everything ended precisely on Christmas. Gayeong had just turned two.
Did she cry from hurt and anger? Of course she did.
But the tears didn’t last long. Life doesn’t wait while you mourn your failures, and the longer you wallow in self-pity, the faster troubles pile on. So Gihun decided to take action: she gathered all the old belongings of the one who had left her to society’s judgment and burned them in the backyard. She bought a new MP3 player, a flip phone, and withdrew part of her savings from the bank to open her own auto repair shop. A small but crucial decision, rebuild her life, and most importantly, with her own hands.
And she succeeded. For three years now, “Gayeong’s Workshop” had been running smoothly. Mrs. Im had rented a large building, set up her store in one part, and had no need for the other. So, without unnecessary discussion, she gave the space to Gihun for her good work and became her first customer herself.
Most of her clients were sweet, well-off women or their sons, who were literally led to the workshop by their caring mothers. Connections and warmth decided everything. Gihun knew how to smile at the right moment, listen attentively, and do her work in a way that made people want to come back. She was punctual and responsible, though she had her share of flaws. Sometimes (almost always) she bought a lottery ticket “for luck” during the holidays or got involved in silly arguments with Jungbae. Silly things, but they were her silly things.
But work and today’s weather… ugh, how inconvenient.
Today, the blizzard, in her opinion, was swirling outside the windows at the worst possible time. Rare passersby hurried along the streets, heads bent under the white whirlwind. She wanted to run back to bed, but unfortunately, money doesn’t fall from the sky. Only in dreams.
Gihun kissed her still-sleeping daughter, whose curls poked out from under the blanket, sent a text to her mother to watch Gayeong, pulled her scarf higher, and ran outside, feeling the frost sting her cheeks and the snow crunch under her shoes.
Perhaps love hadn’t been kind to her, yet she didn’t complain. There was enough food, enough clothes, and for Christmas and New Year she and Ga-yeon could decorate the tree, bake gingerbread cookies, and have a real little celebration at home. So, it wasn’t all that bad.
Deep down, she still dreamed: maybe this year Santa wouldn’t leave her without a gift—a gift in the form of love.
❉ ❉ ❉
He didn’t know that the early morning in Itaewon would bring him nothing but traffic jams. Inho had gotten up too early and only managed to eat a piece of yesterday’s kimbap left by Junho after school, a meager breakfast that only temporarily staved off his hunger. In the lead-up to Christmas and New Year, the precinct was pure chaos, a real holiday frenzy. Everyone was giving gifts, playing Secret Santa, and trying even harder to avoid their duties. Meanwhile, the number of offenders was only rising.
So he wasn’t surprised when, on the morning of December twentieth, a report of a robbery came in. He took a deep breath, switched on the alarm upstairs, and turned down the narrow streets to reach the scene faster.
“My God, Gihun, dear, what happened here?”
Mrs. Jang was the first to arrive in her silver SsangYong. Yesterday she’d scratched the car doors and wanted to fix everything before her son, Yongsik, made a fuss. He was a good kid. Really. Just sometimes he fussed so much over nothing that his anxiety rubbed off on her too.
Geumja glanced at the teenagers tied to chairs, lingering especially on the one with purple hair, then looked at Gihun’s bruised face. Yep, here they were—pre-holiday chaos in all its glory: she barely got to work, and already some punks were trying to rob her.
Ho-ho-ho, Merry Christmas. Tiny bruises and scratches all over the face, plus a full set of rowdy teens. A dream holiday indeed…
“Who cares, ajumma! This dump’s a joke, probably broke too,” finally spoke up the tall guy with ridiculous purple hair.
He called her workshop a dump? Oh, little brat…
“Shut up, Subong!” snorted another, a cute boy rolling his eyes.
“You shut up, nerd!” the third one shot back, long black hair curling in a smirk.
“Hey, you little rascal!” Subong shouted, shrugging his shoulders. Fresh slaps marked the foreheads of all three.
“Quiet!” yelled Jang Geumja, approaching them with a black umbrella raised threateningly. “Aren’t you three ashamed? And where are your parents, letting you rob an honest citizen and act like fools? I hope you’ve already called the police, Gihun-a?”
Needless to say, Mrs. Jang never liked foolish or brazen boys. Gihun knew this all too well—one Yongsik, was more than enough. Mrs. Jang had seen too much to tolerate such behavior. One stern look and the mention of the police was enough to instantly cool the teens’ enthusiasm. They immediately stared at the floor, suddenly fascinated by the patterns on the tiles. Idiots.
Gihun understood: the boys weren’t really after her. They were interested in Mrs. Im’s shop—good products and sometimes electronics. No one would touch the workshop. But Im’s store was nearly untouchable: break anything, and the alarm goes off, then the police show up.
Passing through the workshop, which was connected to the building, was much easier. Smart kids.
They didn’t even realize she had a dog here. Bom lay with his paws tucked under him, eyes wide open, watching the teens carefully.
“Don’t scold them,” she muttered. She would have done it herself, but didn’t want the hassle. “The scariest part they’ll get is from their parents and the police. Bom’s already done his job. Almost bit them.”
Mrs. Jang leaned over the counter, fixing her slightly disheveled scarf, and gave Gihun a squinting look.
“Do you even understand what they were after, dear?” Her voice was kind, yet firm. Sometimes Gihun forgot just how unyielding Yongsik’s mother could be—holidays coming, and here was a real robbery.
Gihun glanced around. Snowflakes gently fell outside, the garlands on the counter twinkled faintly, and Bom perked an ear, attentively watching the kids.
Mrs. Jang was right. A robbery in broad daylight. The kids—just idiots.
“I think they just made a huge mistake. So, Mrs. Jung, what are we fixing?”
“Oh, right… Just the doors and some paint touch-ups. Yongsik already paid, right?” Jang Geumja raised an eyebrow, but her eyes softened with a hint of a smile.
“Yes, yes. Let’s go, I’ll take a look and let you know when the car’s ready. And don’t worry: if anyone dares to move, the angry corgi will immediately handle ‘disciplining’ these little fools.”
“Well, well!” Mrs. Jang exclaimed, adjusting her neat scarf. “Good thing you took Bom from that ruffian. Oh… I almost forgot! Can you imagine, my great-niece Jun-hee just started middle school. She’s such a good girl…”
With Mrs. Jang, things went faster than Gihun expected. Yet she still wondered: why was the police taking so long? Could it really be because of the blizzard?
❉ ❉ ❉
Above him stood the most wonderful person he had ever seen. With an awkward, sincere smile. Curls peeked out from under her hat, and her hands, snug in warm gloves, held him skillfully and confidently, preventing him from completely losing his dignity.
illustration
“Oh! You didn’t hurt yourself? Oh my, I really should’ve cleared the walkway… I was going to, honestly, but didn’t get the chance. Those hooligans ruined my whole day,” the charming creature spoke quickly, almost without pause. “Officer, are you alright? I’m sorry for calling so early, but this really needed attention. They’re in the back room. Well, thieves… though honestly, more like idiots. Oh! I haven’t introduced myself.Seong Gihun, the owner of this place. Just… don’t be surprised. Ha-ha, oh, forgive me, I think I got a little carried away.”
Inho froze.
Words vanished, his tongue betrayed him, his body stood rigid.
Seong Gihun. Gihun.
Right. Yes. Call. Duty. Thieves.
Stop.
This… a woman?! The owner of the workshop? So strong… incredible.
Oh God… oh God. How amazing she was. Was it even legal to look like that at seven in the morning?
“Sir?” she tilted her head slightly, clearly expecting a reaction.
“Ah! Yes. I!—” Inho mentally smacked himself. Pull it together, Hwang Inho. “Detective Hwang Inho, ma’am. Good morning. Sorry, everything’s fine, I’m not surprised, and you’re not… you’re not rambling, it’s alright. Um… so you caught the thieves yourself? The police aren’t needed?”
The sentence sounded foolish. Very. Idiot.
“Ha-ha-ha! Needed!” Gihun laughed, waving her hand. “I told you, they’re not even real thieves. Kids. Well… okay, teenagers.”
She looked at him with renewed interest and squinted.
“Oh, so you’re a detective? I didn’t think they’d send such important people on such minor matters.”
Inho straightened up, almost involuntarily.
“Minor cases, as you know, don’t really exist, ma’am… and for something like this, you need someone especially attentive,” he said with utmost seriousness, then awkwardly coughed. “Ahem. Right, sorry. So… where should I go?”
“Oh, right!” she slapped her forehead. “Come on, come on.”
Gihun spun around, showing the way, and deftly shrugged her jacket off onto the counter. Wow. That was speed. Inho hurried after her, gathering the remnants of his professional dignity along the way and, admittedly, sneaking a glance at the jacket on the counter. Not perfect, but he tried.
The workshop owner… she was just… astonishingly cute. And only now did Inho notice how tall she was—definitely taller than him. At least two inches. Incredible long legs. And her waist…
Damn. Pull it together. Pull it together, Hwang Inho.
Inho rarely paid attention to his surroundings unless a case demanded it. Junho often called him boring for that. Dates, meetings with friends—there was barely any time. Although Malsoon loved tossing him ridiculous ideas like “blind dates” or meeting someone new, maybe a neighbor’s daughter. He’d learned to avoid such situations only after twenty-three, when he moved into his own apartment. Persistent thoughts about relationships? None. Thirty years old, and not a single girlfriend. That should probably sound sad, right? Didn’t bother him. Not yet.
Until he got caught by a fairy by the name of Gihun.
Inho couldn’t explain his state any other way. She was overwhelming. No, it didn’t surprise him that she was a mechanic and the owner of this place—he hadn’t even thought about that. What struck him most was her aura: unpredictable, chaotic, restless. A true diva. All she was missing was the spotlight and all the best the world could offer.
Seong Gihun…
Wait. She said her name was Seong Gihun. “Seong” literally means “family name,” and “Gihun”… well, that’s usually a boy’s name. He blinked, trying to process the strange combination. She really was an anomaly in every sense of the word.
And that feeling only intensified when the scene before him came into view:
Three teenagers, tightly bound with rope, looking about eleven years old, sat on the floor against the wall. Nearby, a corgi lay calmly, resting its muzzle on its paws, as if none of this concerned him at all.
She had really tied them up herself.
Ha.
“Y-yeah…” Gihun’s ears flushed red, as if she suddenly felt embarrassed. “But I really didn’t mean to be harsh with them. My friend Jungbae once showed me a sailor’s knot… and, well… this is what happened.”
She shrugged.
“I know, not exactly a ‘feminine’ skill, but business comes first.”
“Things like this,” Inho said slowly, “don’t really have a concept of ‘feminine’ or ‘not feminine.’”
He glanced at the knots.
“And I must say… they’re done reliably.”
“Hey, ajossi!” interrupted the teenager with the dyed hair. “Don’t believe her! It’s all lies! We didn’t do anything wrong, this woman’s crazy!”
“Shut up, Thanos!” squeaked the smallest one. “It’s all your fault!”
"Hey, you coward, Myung-gi!" — shouted the third one. "His fault? That was your idea! If my grandmother finds out… I’ll get you! You’re dead!"
"Oh, how scary, Nam-su," Myung-gi laughed.
"I'm Nam-gyu!"
In-ho stepped forward.
"All three of you. Quiet." — His head was splitting from the kids’ noise and bravado, and it felt like acid burned his stomach as their curses poured out. "Do you know what happens when you swear in front of police officers? You talk way too much for kids in your position."
The kids slouched, but the smallest, Myung-gi, glared angrily, his shoulders twitching as if ready to argue:
"You don’t have the right to talk to us like that! And anyway, she had no right to tie us up! Do you know who my father is… he’ll…"
"Shut up, Myung-gi Gigi," hissed Thanos, elbowing him. "We’ve got enough trouble already. The señorita and the cop could actually take us to the station."
"Sorry, don’t listen to him," nervously added the third one, probably Nam-gyu, trying to calm things down.
Ms. Seong sighed wearily nearby, looking at the troublemakers with pity and at In-ho with pleading hope. It was time to deal with these “robbers” quickly, try to calmly talk to the workshop owner, and teach that little brat a lesson. By God, even his assistants weren’t this cheeky.
In-ho slowly counted in his head and started:
"You had no right to break in. That’s one. I’m talking to you, not your father. That’s two. And one more word—and let’s see how fast your parents show up if we have to continue this at the station. That’s three."
Courage—or maybe just audacity—drained from Myung-gi. He looked down and went quiet. The others also fell silent, stopping their arguing.
God… he couldn’t even imagine that on the day he met the most astonishing woman, he’d also have to deal with three little hellions. Give him strength. What wonderfully terrible pre-holiday days.
“Alright, let’s go in order,” he said, shifting to a more official tone and slightly masking his irritation as he stepped closer to free the kids. “Names. Ages. One at a time. Oh, and any foolishness will have consequences—keep that in mind.”
He leaned down and carefully began untying the knots. One… two… three… and realized nothing was budging. Yes, this woman was truly incredible. How had she tied them so tightly? He figured he could learn a thing or two from her… The look of confusion on his face was obvious, and Gihun noticed. She just smiled, blushing slightly, as if to say, “Thought this would be easy?”
“Mr. Hwang, let me help!” Gihun spoke almost in a rush, nearly talking over herself. “I… I tied them myself, and now no one can even untangle… or… undo them… haha… oh, you know what I mean… it’s just… like this… yeah… So, kids, don’t wiggle, okay? Because if you twist or pull… oh, the knots could tighten even more… and then it won’t be fun at all… haha… oh, I’m babbling again… sorry, sorry… I just… well, you know, I’m nervous… and I want to do everything right… so no one gets hurt… and no problems… oh, talking too much again… haha!”
Her hands moved almost on autopilot; no one could follow them, not even the three kids, who watched in awe just like he did. Questions melted from his mind. His eyebrows rose unconsciously. She was remarkable.
“All done, no one got hurt, everything’s fine,” Gihun muttered, shrugging. “If that’s the case, answer the detective quickly: who you are and how old you are.”
“Bom, dear, sit, sit, good boy, good…” she added, gently stroking the corgi, who perked up.
Inho couldn’t help but smirk. He wouldn’t mind being called a “good boy” like that. Good Inho…
…Focus, Hwang Inho! Damn it, what are you thinking?! Idiot!
“Mm, alright, I’m waiting for your answers, young men.”
“Choi Subong. 13 years old.”
“Han Nam-gyu. 13 years old.”
“Lee Myung-gi. 12 years old.”
Ah, so he had misjudged—they were a little older than he thought. The instigator was the youngest, Lee Mengi. Judging by the sly sparkle in his eyes, he was clearly smarter than these rowdy, lanky boys.
“So… the reason for breaking in?” Inho asked, trying to stay calm. “We already have quite a list: illegal entry, attempted theft… hmm?”
No one answered. They’re mocking him.
Gihun let out a quiet chuckle, standing up and brushing dust off her clothes.
“Detective, what’s so hard to understand?” she said, eyeing the kids. “These boys just wanted to impress some girls… isn’t that right? That’s why they tried to grab those pink trinkets. Or is that some new trend with guys these days?”
“That’s not true!” Myung-gi shouted, turning bright red. “She’s lying!”
“Actually… well,” Nam-gyu muttered, crossing his arms.
“I was looking for a gift for my mom!” jumped up Subong, flailing his arms. “It’s not my fault! The great rapper Thanos has money, he’s not poor! I’m just a star, señorita… today’s not my day!”
“Hey, Subong, shut up!” Myung-gi yelled. “If it weren’t for you and your stupid brain—”
“You’re the stupid one!” Subong shot back, nearly shouting.
“Hey-hey, stop it!” Gihun interjected with a hint of worry, patting Bom. “Detective Hwang, you’re not going to get much out of them… So it’s better if I answer the questions, and then you can send them to their parents. I’ve got work, clients…”
Inho exhaled deeply, holding back his irritation. His eyes swept over the teens, his foot tapping the floor unconsciously. One more argument and he definitely wouldn’t be able to stay calm. But the moment his gaze met Gihun’s, his heart unexpectedly fluttered, and a soft smile flickered across his face—surprising even himself.
“Yes, Ms. Seong, now just answer a few questions,” he said kindly, though with a pretended sternness. “And I promise—they won’t bother you again.”
God, please… just stay quiet, you kids. Don’t embarrass me.
The loud swallowing from the trio made Gihun flinch and raise an eyebrow slightly. She looked at them in confusion, then back at Inho. And then, for the first time, he felt his heart speed up—was it tachycardia or new feelings? He didn’t know. Damn, damn, damn.
He rolled his eyes unconsciously and gave a small, wry smile, as if to say, “Teenagers…” trying not to reveal that he was affected too. His heart felt ready to leap out of his chest, his hands were sweaty. Top-notch control. Well done, Inho.
Alright, focus. Don’t look at her face, don’t look at her beautiful eyes. Pull yourself together!
First, he would get these kids under control, then he could calmly talk with the lovely lady. That was the plan.
And maybe… just maybe, these holidays wouldn’t be as gloomy as he’d thought at the start.
“Perfect! Thank you, Detective!” she said in a voice so gentle it made him tense without him realizing it. “You’re such a wonderful person.”
Oh no.
He felt his heart flutter. She was clearly trying to “finish him off” with that voice, and he was desperately trying not to show that, in fact… it worked.