J Core Fashion had already released preview images featuring the model chosen as the main face of its Fashion Week campaign. The same woman was also scheduled to appear in a connected J Core Beauty shoot later that week, but her skin had become red during a makeup test after the new primer was applied.

The Beauty team argued that the reaction could not be blamed on their product because the model had used two other brands that morning. J Core Beauty had apparently discovered a new dermatological principle. Once three products touched the same face, responsibility became a group project.

Fashion refused to replace the model after distributing the preview photographs, while her agency had suspended all cosmetic testing until her dermatologist approved it.

Both departments arrived in Min-ho's meeting room prepared to establish which division had created the problem. Within fifteen minutes, the discussion had produced several accusations, two demands for a complete reschedule, and nothing that could be used as a solution.

Min-ho read the campaign brief while the argument continued around him.

The Fashion Week concept did not require the model to apply the product. It only required the fashion and beauty campaigns to exist within the same visual world, a distinction that had been buried beneath several weeks of meetings and departmental pride.

When the room finally became quiet enough for him to speak, he announced that the model would remain while the Beauty shoot changed from skincare application to a backstage recovery concept.

Before the Beauty manager could turn the suggestion into another argument, Min-ho explained the revised plan. The model would be photographed at a dressing table after the show, with the skincare collection arranged around her but never applied to her face. Product close-ups could be completed separately with a hand model, while the texture footage would use the approved studio model from the digital campaign.

Fashion would keep its main face, Beauty would retain its product visibility, and neither team would need to restart the launch.

The art director pulled the existing mood board onto the screen and began adapting it while Min-ho was still outlining the new shot list.

A senior manager from Beauty remained unconvinced. "We should wait for final approval before changing the campaign direction."

At that moment, Hee-won entered with Miss Kwon, marking his third unannounced appearance beside Min-ho that morning. 

Relief crossed the senior manager's face as he turned toward the CEO. "Mr. Joo, Team Leader Lee has proposed changing the Beauty shoot. We were discussing whether executive approval would be necessary."

"You already have it," Hee-won said. 

The manager looked at him expectantly, but Hee-won directed his attention toward Min-ho instead. "Mr. Lee approved it."

No one requested another opinion after that.

The tension in Min-ho's scent had begun to fade. The cool saltiness Hee-won had noticed earlier softened into something cleaner and faintly sweet, like rain settling over the ocean. Min-ho seemed unaware of the change, already focused on the revised schedule, while Hee-won had to remind himself that standing in the doorway and smelling the air like a search dog would not look professional.

The meeting ended with revised schedules, new shot lists, and nine people leaving to complete tasks they had spent the previous half hour insisting could not be completed.

Min-ho remained behind to update the production calendar, while Hee-won stayed near the door without offering any reason for doing so.

"Is there a problem with my work?" Min-ho asked.

Hee-won said there was no problem. Min-ho then reminded him that he had already appeared beside him without warning three times that day. 

"The access card needed to be corrected, I introduced you to the department, and this campaign affects both divisions," Hee-won explained.

"All reasonable explanations," Min-ho agreed as he closed the calendar. "It's still everyone else's Monday too."

Hee-won left without attempting to defend himself further. Miss Kwon followed, lowering her face toward her tablet in a way that suggested the screen had suddenly become unusually interesting.

—

At noon, Hee-won invited Min-ho to lunch under the respectable excuse of discussing his first day and the new position. In his mind, the arrangement was simple. One quiet restaurant, one table, and enough uninterrupted time to learn what Min-ho liked to eat when he was not holding a box of banana milk.

He had reserved a table for two.

When he arrived, the hostess checked his name and led him past the table he had booked to a much larger one near the windows.

Nine employees were already seated around it.

Min-ho noticed him first and raised a hand in greeting. "Mr. Joo, we're over here."

Hee-won stopped beside the table and took in the extra chairs, the open menus, and the entire Brand Content Strategy team looking up at him.

"I invited the team," Min-ho explained. "They're the people I'm supposed to be onboarding."

Hee-won had invited one omega to lunch and somehow ended up hosting a departmental event. "Of course," he said, because there was no dignified way to explain that his version of onboarding had involved only two people.

He took the empty seat beside Min-ho, placed his telephone beneath the edge of the table, and sent Miss Kwon a message.

Please join us for lunch.

Her response arrived before he had opened the menu.

I thought you were having lunch with Mr. Lee.

Hee-won looked around the table again.

There are nine people here.

A few seconds passed.

That is generally how teams work, sir.

Hee-won read the message twice before sending her the restaurant address.

Miss Kwon arrived ten minutes later, accepted the chair placed beside him, and showed no surprise at finding the private onboarding lunch occupied by an entire department.

The meal went better than Min-ho had expected. His team relaxed once they understood that the CEO had not come to evaluate their table manners, while Hee-won listened to the Fashion Week discussion without interrupting or answering questions directed at Min-ho.

Hee-won also paid for the meal without turning the gesture into an announcement. It was not the lunch he had planned, but Min-ho sat beside him throughout it.

For the moment, Hee-won decided that was enough.

—

Hee-won's fourth visit came at three in the afternoon, when he arrived to confirm that Min-ho's computer, software licenses, budget access, and replacement card were working properly.

Once Min-ho assured him that everything functioned as expected, Hee-won's attention moved toward the chair and desk.

"The desk hasn't caused any operational problems," Min-ho said before he could ask.

"And the lighting?"

"I chose option two."

The satisfaction on Hee-won's face confirmed that he had personally reviewed all three choices.

—

After the CEO left, Min-ho went to the team kitchen for coffee and discovered that an entire refrigerator shelf had been filled with banana milk. Every box was the same brand. The remaining shelves held water, sparkling water, plain milk, and several types of canned coffee, but the banana milk had clearly been granted its own territory.

One of the designers entered behind him and stared into the refrigerator. "Is this a new company benefit?"

"I was gonna ask you," said Min-ho.

"I couldn't think of anyone else who drinks banana milk, Team Leader Lee." 

Min-ho closed the refrigerator and found Hee-won near the elevators several minutes later. When asked about the new supply, Hee-won explained that he had been told employees preferred having more drink options.

"There's only one new option," Min-ho pointed out.

"It appears to be popular," said Hee-won.

"No one's taken one."

"Then there'll be enough."

Min-ho studied him without receiving any further explanation.

Hee-won had seen the banana milk in his apartment on the same evening he offered Min-ho his former position. This was probably another attempt to make his return more comfortable after everything that had happened. It was unnecessary, but Min-ho could not say that it was unpleasant.

"Thank you. The team will appreciate it once they realize they're allowed to drink it."

Hee-won looked toward the kitchen. "The team?"

"Yes. It's in the shared refrigerator."

For the first time that day, the CEO appeared dissatisfied with an efficient workplace arrangement.

—

By the end of the afternoon, the Fashion Week crisis had become a revised production plan. The model's agency had accepted the new concept, the updated shot list had been approved, and the Beauty team had finally stopped sending messages marked urgent.

The department no longer fell silent whenever Min-ho walked past. Employees brought him real questions, disagreed when they had actual reasons, and began treating him like a manager rather than an unpredictable result of a corporate scandal.

One designer also removed "sir" from every sentence after Min-ho threatened to assign an additional status report to anyone who used it more than twice.

Most of the team had gone home by seven, but Min-ho remained in his office to review the following day's schedule. He was collecting the final notes when Hee-won appeared at the open door again.

Min-ho looked up from his screen. "Fifth visit."

"I was leaving."

"Through my department?"

Since the executive elevators were located on the opposite side of the building, Hee-won examined the hallway as though the architecture might rearrange itself to support his explanation.

Min-ho saved the document and collected his bag. "Good night, Mr. Joo."

"Good night, Team Leader Lee."

Hearing the new title, Min-ho instinctively looked behind himself again. By the time he realized what he had done, Hee-won was already walking toward the elevators.

Miss Kwon was waiting beside the elevator when Hee-won joined her.

"How did today go, sir?"

"Successful."

She pressed the call button. "Mr. Lee's day, or yours?"

The elevator doors opened, but Hee-won looked back toward the office where Min-ho was turning off the lights.

"His."

The answer was technically true, though it left out how satisfied Hee-won felt after spending most of the day finding reasons to visit the seventh floor.

They stepped into the elevator, and Hee-won's phone vibrated before the doors closed.

The message was from Min-ho.

Subject: Immediate Workflow Restructuring

Attached was a thirty-eight-page document covering duplicated approvals, missing project owners, conflicting deadlines, and eleven active campaigns that no one appeared to be fully responsible for. The first meeting had been scheduled for seven-thirty the following morning.

Miss Kwon read the subject line over his arm. "It seems his day isn't over yet."

Hee-won opened the attachment. Neither was his.