Teamwork is a Dangerous Activity.

Kang Minjae learned something important that morning.

Teamwork with Seo Jinhyuk was not a work assignment.

It was a personality challenge.

They were seated at a shared table with a large screen between them. The new campaign project glowed on the monitor like a silent referee waiting for a fight.

Minjae clicked through his design ideas confidently. Bright colors, bold layout, playful shapes.

Jinhyuk watched with the calm focus of someone analyzing weather patterns.

“…This is energetic,” Jinhyuk said.

“That is a compliment,” Minjae replied proudly.

“It is also unstructured.”

“That is an insult.”

“It is an observation.”

Minjae leaned back dramatically. “You fear joy.”

“I prefer clarity.”

“You prefer boredom.”

“I prefer results.”

They stared at each other.

At the next table, Yoo Haein pretended to read a file upside down. Choi Bora was typing nothing with great dedication. Park Doyun ate chips quietly, eyes observing everything like a wise snack-powered owl.

Minjae stood and pointed at the screen.

“This color expresses movement.”

Jinhyuk nodded once. “It expresses visual noise.”

Minjae clutched his chest. “My creativity is being oppressed.”

Jinhyuk adjusted his glasses. “Your creativity is being guided.”

“Guided into sadness.”

An hour later, something shocking happened.

They accidentally agreed on a layout.

Both paused.

Both blinked.

Both slowly looked at the screen.

“…Acceptable,” Jinhyuk said.

“…Not terrible,” Minjae replied.

Haein quietly wrote something in her notebook labeled Progress.

Bora whispered, “Emotional proximity increased by 4%.”

Doyun offered Minjae a cookie. “Reward.”

Around noon, the entire team gathered for a quick internal review.

Minjae presented the updated design with surprising confidence. Jinhyuk explained the strategy with clear precision. Their voices did not overlap. Their points connected smoothly.

It was… effective.

After the presentation, their boss clapped.

“Excellent cooperation!”

Minjae blinked. Cooperation?

He turned slightly toward Jinhyuk. Jinhyuk gave a small nod. Not proud. Not distant. Just… acknowledging.

Minjae felt oddly pleased.

He immediately ignored this feeling.

Lunch break arrived like a peace treaty.

The Support Squad claimed a table and waved Minjae over enthusiastically.

“You worked well together,” Haein said.

“You didn’t argue for twenty minutes,” Bora added.

Doyun pushed a juice box toward Minjae. “Hydration improves emotional processing.”

Minjae dropped into his chair. “I am not emotionally processing. I am professionally surviving.”

“Same thing,” Bora said cheerfully.

They ate together, laughing about office gossip, strange clients, and Minjae’s dramatic presentation style.

Jinhyuk passed by carrying his tray.

Haein called gently, “Manager Seo, please join.”

Minjae froze.

Jinhyuk paused… then sat down.

Silence lasted exactly three seconds.

Then Bora said, “Minjae talks in his sleep.”

Minjae nearly fell off his chair. “WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?”

“Character detail,” Bora replied calmly.

Jinhyuk looked at Minjae. “…What do you say?”

“Nothing! Silence! Professional thoughts!”

Doyun considered this. “Yesterday you said ‘gradient balance.’”

Minjae covered his face. “I regret knowing all of you.”

Jinhyuk’s mouth curved slightly upward. A small smile. Quick but real.

Minjae noticed.

He looked away very fast.

That afternoon, they returned to work side by side.

No dramatic argument. Just quiet focus.

At one point, Minjae leaned too far over the table trying to adjust the screen. The chair rolled slightly. He lost balance.

A steady hand caught his arm.

Jinhyuk.

Firm grip. Warm touch. Immediate release.

“…Be careful,” Jinhyuk said calmly.

“I was testing gravity,” Minjae replied.

“It is consistent.”

Minjae nodded seriously. “Reliable system.”

They returned to work.

But something small had shifted.

Not romantic.

Not emotional.

Just… familiar.

As the day ended, Minjae packed his bag and joined the Support Squad near the exit.

“Tomorrow,” Haein announced, “we plan a group coffee break.”

“That sounds normal,” Minjae said cautiously.

“It is strategically normal,” Bora corrected.

Doyun handed Minjae another snack. “Energy for tomorrow.”

Across the lobby, Jinhyuk finished a phone call and glanced toward them. For a moment, Minjae met his eyes.

No argument.

No performance.

Just a quiet nod.

Minjae nodded back.

Then he turned to his friends, already talking and laughing loudly, and felt something warm settle comfortably inside his chest.

Not love.

Not yet.

Just the beginning of something… less hostile.

And that alone was extremely suspicious.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***