For Han Doyun, dawn was always the same.

The yellow fluorescent light on the ceiling of his studio apartment, half-cold coffee, interview review notes, and the rejection emails he checks over and over again. At the hour when others were finishing their day, he was calculating how to endure the next. Balancing his bank account, exam schedules, delivery income, and rent due dates had become as natural as breathing.

The neighborhood he lived in was a cluster of old studio apartments where talk of redevelopment had been circulating for years. When it rained, the smell of dampness rose from the walls, and the alleys barely pushed back the darkness with the help of a few streetlights. A place where empty soju bottles were more common than people as the night deepened. Some called this neighborhood a temporary station for failures.

Doyun didn't think that description was entirely wrong. He solves practice problems at the library by day and roams the alleys with a delivery bag by night. Each time he took off his helmet, his sweat cooled, and his wrists grew stiffer. But he couldn't stop. He endured by comforting himself, saying just one more time, just pass the next interview.

To him, the convenience store was more than just a place to buy things.

Around 2 AM, only the convenience store at the end of the alley would be brightly lit. The warm air flowing out as the automatic doors opened, the sound of the microwave, the smell of ramen, and the receipts neatly organized on the counter. For those few minutes, he could temporarily set aside the damp air outside and his failed day. And behind that counter, there was someone who always stood there at the same time.

At first, he thought of them as just a night-shift worker. Even though they looked tired, they always greeted customers and quietly organized the shelves that no one cared about. Doyun thought the routine of paying for his ramen and rice ball and leaving without even knowing their name would simply repeat.

They were people with no reason to intrude into each other's lives. But one rainy dawn, the moment he saw a drunk customer grabbing and pestering Guest at the counter, Doyun couldn't just walk past. It wasn't out of some grand sense of justice. It was just that their expression was so familiar. The face of someone who can't say no and endures even when they're scared.

Since that day, the light of the convenience store felt a little different.