Taking Off the Mask

Kkulnyang-i's plan to visit with an acquaintance was postponed.

It wasn't because of their schedules.

It was simply that the current situation in South Korea did not permit gatherings of multiple people.

"Ah... another death today," Seung-wan said.

"What are we going to do...? Is the world really ending at this rate?" Do-hee asked.

Listening to the conversation between Seung-wan and Do-hee, Do-jin just stared at the TV.

He didn't have the confidence to take it as seriously as they did, no matter what he said right now.

Even if I tell them it'll be treated just like a common cold in a few years, they won't believe me.

With the entire world trembling in fear of the pandemic, nothing Do-jin said would carry any weight.

Wouldn't he just be treated like a crazy person instead?

I'll be lucky if they don't think I'm a cultist.

Indeed, back in February 2020, there had been an incident where the number of infections skyrocketed due to a certain cult.

Looks like I'll have to wear a mask for a few years, no questions asked.

The only saving grace was that Do-jin didn't have to worry too much about masks right now.

There were only three people in this vast closed school.

Since he did most of his work alone, he was relatively free from quarantine regulations.

And the same went for Do-hee and Seung-wan.

Even now, they were just sitting slightly apart, and none of the three were wearing masks.

Just then, Do-hee's phone buzzed.

"Huh? I got a text from work."

"At this hour?" Seung-wan asked, looking at the clock on the wall.

It was already almost 9:00 PM.

It was far too late to contact someone who had already clocked out.

"I know, right? This is the first time I've ever received a text on my phone... Oh my gosh!"

Do-hee, who had been replying with curiosity, gasped as she read the message.

Wondering what was wrong, Do-jin jumped to his feet, but sat back down at Do-hee's next words.

"They say someone in our department crossed paths with a confirmed case. Everyone in the department has to get tested and wait at home until the results come out. Oh no, it's the person who sits right in front of me."

"Oh, really? That's too bad... Wait, hold on."

Replying to Do-hee, Seung-wan suddenly froze and looked at Do-jin in surprise.

Do-jin, puzzled by her unusually intense reaction, soon realized why she was so shocked.

"This is tricky."

"Right? This is... a bit problematic."

"Why? What's wrong?"

Seeing that even Do-jin's reaction was unusual following Seung-wan's, Do-hee asked worriedly.

"It's not certain yet, but if that coworker tests positive, you'll be classified as a close contact. If that happens, we, who have been sharing the same space with you, will become secondary contacts."

"And we'll have to go into quarantine immediately."

"Ah... I'm sorry. Oppa, I'm sorry too."

Realizing why Do-jin and Seung-wan were troubled, Do-hee quickly apologized.

Her face darkened, seemingly thinking she had dragged her friend and boyfriend into a nuisance.

"No, we're fine."

"Yeah. Self-quarantine isn't really that different from how we're living now anyway."

"True... Self-quarantine is only frustrating when you're cooped up in a normal house. It won't matter at all here," Seung-wan spoke as if she had just realized something at Do-jin's words.

Even excluding the forested mountain behind it, the school grounds alone spanned over four acres.

How many people would feel cooped up living in a place like this?

If anything, feeling lonely would be the normal reaction.

I'm actually a bit jealous. Is this the second time since Samsaek-i?

Seung-wan, who had a strong ego, rarely envied others.

Even after seeing his wealth when he bought the closed school and ran it without much trouble, her thoughts hadn't changed.

The only thing she had envied about Do-jin was that he had met Samsaek-i, whom she had never met before.

But even that was no longer an issue since they now shared the same space...

"Seung-wan, should we renovate one of the classrooms here and live in it too?"

"Huh? What nonsense are you talking about? Why would we live here?"

"Right? I was just saying."

Since the general atmosphere of society banned contact between people, such a joke seemed to come out naturally.

At least if they were here, they wouldn't have to worry about quarantine rules.

But Do-jin, hearing those words, did not take them as a joke.

Whirrrrrr.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Seung-wan set her chopsticks down at the noise echoing from the hallway.

Perhaps because the space was usually so quiet, the construction noise was particularly distracting.

However, seeing Do-jin eating naturally in front of her as if he heard nothing, she had no choice but to speak up.

"Mr. Do-jin, are you really going through with this?"

"With what?"

"The renovation of the duty room. If it's because of what I said yesterday, you don't have to do this. I was really just joking."

The space currently under construction was the women's lounge.

Located to the left of the second staff room, which they used as an office, it was a space that had been left abandoned for quite a long time.

Yet, it was now being renovated by Do-jin.

The purpose, of course, was to create a comfortable place for Do-hee and Seung-wan to stay.

"I know it was a joke."

"Then why?"

She was asking why he was spending money on renovations when he knew it was a joke.

To that, Do-jin spoke nonchalantly.

"Just think of it as a backup for now. You can use it when work runs late and commuting is awkward, or when you want to rest because you're feeling sick during work."

"That won't happen very often. And besides, in those cases, we can just rest here."

Although not luxurious, there was already a space to rest here.

There was a sofa, and they had brought sleeping bags just in case.

"We might have company dinners here occasionally. We haven't done it yet, but if we drink, won't we need a place to rest? It's hard to call a designated driver out here."

Seung-wan had no choice but to agree with this point.

They had had a few company dinners here before, but Seung-wan hadn't been able to drink a single drop.

It was because she had to drive.

Since it was on the outskirts of Gyeonggi Province, designated drivers wouldn't come, and there were no accommodations nearby, so it was an unavoidable choice.

And she couldn't exactly drive drunk.

Thanks to that, she was the only one who couldn't touch the vast stash of alcohol Do-jin had hoarded.

But if a lounge is built?

There would be no reason to stay sober.

While Seung-wan was drooling at the thought of the alcohol piled up in the warehouse, Do-jin continued.

"And, you never know. Do-hee might have to self-quarantine."

"Self-quarantine? Why would...?"

"Have you been to Do-hee's place? I haven't been there yet, I've only heard about it, but do you think she can self-quarantine there? For two whole weeks, at that?"

"..."

At Do-jin's words, Seung-wan's mouth shut tight.

It was absolutely impossible.

It was because of the thought that flashed through her mind the moment she heard Do-jin's words.

She might be able to endure it somehow, but...

Every single minute and second would probably be hell.

A basement ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apartment—not even a semi-basement—filled with all kinds of foul odors would become a killing space rather than a healing space.

"It... might be necessary, indeed."

In the end, Seung-wan agreed with Do-jin's decision.

But she didn't know.

She didn't know that this wasn't the only space currently undergoing renovations.

No matter how spacious the female teachers' lounge is, two women can't live in there.

The women's lounge was larger than the duty room Do-jin used.

It was about half the size of a classroom, around 300 to 350 square feet.

It might be fine for a short rest or staying a night or two, but it was bound to be cramped for two adults to live in.

Especially for sick patients.

In my past life, Do-hee said she caught COVID around this time. It will probably be the same this time. I need a proper space for her to rest before that happens.

In truth, Do-jin hadn't actually heard about Do-hee's house yet.

She hadn't told him.

She must have been afraid to talk about herself. It was the same before my regression.

Around this time before his regression, the two of them were only in the flirting stage.

Perhaps because of that, she spoke even less about her personal life.

Thanks to that, Do-jin only found out about Do-hee's positive test late, and he had no idea that the house she lived in was the absolute worst.

Do-hee, who only told him about it after they got married, described that time like this:

How much his heart had ached when he heard those words later.

It was the exact opposite of Do-jin's situation, who had spent his quarantine without any discomfort thanks to having a good boss.

He could not let that nightmare—which remained his greatest shock next to her asking for a divorce—repeat itself.

That was why Do-jin was lying to rush the renovations of the staff quarters and the lounge.

And fortunately,

Do-jin's preparations paid off at just the right time.

Hearing Do-hee's dejected voice, Do-jin also wore a bitter expression.

He recalled how the quarantine measures at the time demanded an almost ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ignorant level of thoroughness.

Crossed paths with a confirmed case? Immediate quarantine and testing.

Tested negative? Test again a few days later.

Only after testing negative again could you return to work.

But what if it was discovered that you crossed paths with another confirmed case during quarantine?

The quarantine period would be extended by several more days.

There was a reason people said it was better to just test positive than to be classified as a contact.

If you were classified as a confirmed case, the quarantine period was fixed at two weeks.

Even for government support funds, the rules for contacts fluctuated, but confirmed cases were guaranteed to receive them, so in many ways, being a confirmed case was better.

"Think of it as a chance to get some rest. Your nose will hurt, but at least you won't have to deal with work stress."

Do-jin replied as casually as possible to Do-hee's words.

He knew that her home was harder to bear than work, but since he hadn't officially heard about her house yet, he couldn't act like he knew.

Do-hee had already been in quarantine for three days.

Since she didn't know how much longer she would have to quarantine, she had to buy them in advance.

Normally, that is.

"Instead of doing that, why don't you come over here?"

"Yeah. You've been classified as a close contact now. That makes Seung-wan and me secondary contacts, so why don't we all quarantine together here?"

Unlike close contacts, secondary contacts only had to be tested once and quarantine for a single day, but quarantine was still quarantine.

"As you know, we have a lot of food here. I hoarded a ton of it."

"You register that when you get tested tomorrow, so it doesn't matter. Besides, the news says that because the number of confirmed cases is rising, administrative processing is taking time. Just come here and quarantine."

Do-jin's persuasion continued after that.

Do-hee, who had firmly refused at first, gradually gave in to Do-jin's persistent coaxing and finally came to Sekki House that evening.

Of course, along with Seung-wan.

"Oppa, are you sure you're okay with this? I might test positive."

At her words as she got out of Seung-wan's car, Do-jin laughed mockingly.

"Let it test positive. Do you think I'd be scared of a measly mutated cold?"

"Ooooh!"

"Amazing."

"Hmph!"

Exclamations of admiration came from the two women, seemingly moved by Do-jin's words.

When Do-jin, feeling smug, raised his chin, the two women's teasing immediately followed.

"I guess my oppa is a man after all. He's not without his bravado."

"They don't say men die younger for nothing."

"..."

Realizing that their reaction just now was teasing rather than cheering, Do-jin's face flushed slightly.

That night, the three of them ate and drank comfortably.

Having met almost every day only to be separated by quarantine for a few days, they let loose completely.

Seung-wan, who had decided to quarantine here just like Do-hee, literally drank like there was no tomorrow.

And the next evening,

The results of Do-hee's morning test came back.

The result was positive.

Do-hee officially became a confirmed case.

"I bought some supplements, so make sure to take them. You too, Ms. Seung-wan. From what I hear doctors say, it's ultimately a battle of immunity."

"You take them too, Oppa."

"Yeah. Since you're a confirmed case too, Mr. Do-jin."

Naturally, the two who had eaten, drunk, and stayed with Do-hee also tested positive one after another over the next few days.

Do-hee felt sorry to the two of them, but they were actually happy about it.

"Whew! Now we don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have to wear masks anymore!"

"Phew, it was so stuffy. This is great."

"..."

"What are you looking at, girl? I'm completely fine, so stop looking at me with such pity."

"Yeah. Anyone can see that out of all of us, you're the one who's hurting the most, Do-hee."

"...*Sniff!*"

Seeing the two of them comforting her instead, Do-hee finally burst into tears that she had been holding back.

From then on, they did not wear masks.

"Actually, there's something I haven't told you guys. It's about my family... Will you listen?"

Was it because she felt free with nothing left to hide?

With a relieved face, Do-hee opened her mouth.

That day,

Do-jin was able to hear Do-hee's personal history, which he had only heard right before their marriage in his past life.