Rumors in an office were like brushfires. A single spark could smolder unnoticed for days, then roar to life overnight with the right fuel.
Minjae, as always, stood at the center of one—without ever lifting a finger.
By the following Monday, whispers had turned into glances, and glances into muffled jokes behind coffee mugs.
"So… Seori from HR, huh?"
"Yura's got the upper hand. Didn't you see her take his arm at the wedding?"
"No way. Yuri's basically his shadow. She's the dark horse in this race."
It was never malicious. The atmosphere remained light, playful even, but the speculation spread across departments with surprising speed. No one mentioned it directly to the trio—or to Minjae—but their interactions were suddenly watched with barely veiled curiosity.
And soon, someone got creative.
At a corner desk in the Marketing floor, a junior associate named Hyunjae taped a grid to the inside of his drawer. Three names. Tally marks. A neat label above it: **Project M.**
His desk neighbor spotted it and laughed, adding a fourth option in messy handwriting—*Plot Twist: All Three?*—with a wink.
Within a week, similar secret "factions" had emerged. Some favored Seori's warmth. Others admired Yura's boldness. A surprising number quietly rooted for Yuri's calm loyalty. At lunch tables, vague questions floated around like pollen.
"If you had to date someone from Strategic Planning, who'd you choose?"
"Would you say Minjae's more into extroverts or quiet types?"
Someone put up this poll in the company group chat, disguised as a joke, basically. The question was which department would come up with the next office couple. Top three picks ended up being HR, Market Research, and Strategic Planning.
Minjae, for his part, noticed the shift immediately. Too many well-timed glances. Too many employees acting overly casual when he walked by. It didn't take a dragon's intuition to read the air.
Yet… he said nothing.
---
One afternoon in the glass-walled meeting room, Minjae was going over the performance metrics. He lifted his gaze. There was a group of interns peeking in, pretending to refill their water bottles. The second he made eye contact, they scattered like startled pigeons.
He sighed.
"You've become a celebrity," Yuri said from beside him, not looking up from her laptop.
"Apparently."
"Should we do something about it?"
He paused, thought for a moment. "…No. It's harmless."
Yuri nodded, though amusement tugged faintly at her lips.
---
Elsewhere, Seori found a Post-it stuck to her desk.
*Team Seori fighting!* it read, followed by a badly drawn heart.
She stared at it, then slowly looked around. Her colleagues were busying themselves with exaggerated focus. One even whistled tunelessly.
"…They know?" she muttered under her breath.
"Only everyone," came Yura's voice from behind her.
Seori turned. Yura stood with a coffee in one hand and a smirk in place.
"Congratulations. You're leading by three tallies in the Sales floor poll."
Seori groaned. "I don't know whether to be flattered or horrified."
"Both," Yura said easily. She took a sip of coffee, then added with mock seriousness, "Also, I'm not losing to you."
Moments later, Yuri arrived at their lounge space, balancing a tray of bottled tea. Her brow furrowed.
"Why is the junior staff asking if I 'prefer stoic guys'? One even winked."
Seori and Yura exchanged a look, then burst out laughing. Yuri set the tray down with a sigh.
"This isn't funny," she muttered, though her ears were pink.
"It's hilarious," Yura countered. "Come on, admit it—you're at least a little curious who's winning the polls."
"I'm not."
"You totally are," Seori teased.
Yuri pressed her lips together, refusing to respond.
---
That evening, the three of them got together in the company garden just to breathe some fresh air. Sunset was pulling those long shadows right across the courtyard. It kind of softened up the city noise coming from beyond the walls.
"It's gotten out of hand," Yuri said finally, her voice low.
"Let them have their fun," Seori replied, sinking onto the bench. She tilted her head back to watch the sky. "It's not like we can control what people whisper."
Yura leaned against the railing, her tone lighter but edged with thought. "Do you think Minjae knows?"
They all fell silent at that.
Then Yuri answered, quiet but certain. "…He always knows."
Yura smiled faintly. "Figures."
The mood lingered between them—part resignation, part amusement. What had been a private tangle of feelings had turned into office theater. Everyone seemed invested now.
And strangely, none of them minded.
Because amid all the gossip and playful speculation, one truth held steady: they weren't playing. Their feelings for Minjae were real.
No amount of rumors could cheapen that.