RFL Ch 12.1
by soapaDue to their slow pace, the Yeoljeong Pocha wasn’t far off yet. Moreover, the sight of two bulky men walking while tangled together was more than enough to draw the attention of passersby.
“How are we supposed to walk fast like this?”
A voice, thick with the haze of alcohol, grumbled. Even so, onlookers kept stealing glances at Song Jaeyi, who was crumpled in Sooin’s arms. Some whispered among themselves. They were probably commenting on Song Jaeyi’s rare, striking face.
Sooin raised an arm, as if to touch his own shoulder. The arm, slanting diagonally, subtly covered the small, pale face beneath it. After just three steps like that, Song Jaeyi came to a halt this time.
“You told me to hurry, but how am I supposed to when you’re covering my eyes?”
Despite knowing the complaint was valid, Sooin felt annoyed. Stung by it, he curved his eyes into a smile and took another step forward.
“Why didn’t you talk back to Hyungyeon like this earlier? You’re good at it.”
“Hyung told me to hold it in, so what are you saying?”
“…Yeah, what am I even saying…?”
This was exactly why he’d decided to talk less. Sooin let out a frustrated huff. The big breath stretched his ribcage taut before escaping.
“Hyung, if you do that, it’ll hit my face.”
What will? Before he could ask, Sooin realized it. With every step, the soft, warm skin encasing Song Jaeyi’s cheekbones rubbed against the center of his left chest. He could feel his resolve hardening despite himself. Letting out a hollow laugh, Sooin gently pushed the small head away.
“Can’t you just walk on your own now?”
“I’m still drunk.”
The head, which had only shifted slightly, pressed back against his chest. Sooin laughed a bit louder.
“Didn’t you say you were fine earlier?”
“I didn’t say I was fine—I said I could hold out longer.”
Sometimes he seemed so naive it was almost foolish, yet at moments like this, he could come off as sly as a snake. What other sides of him hadn’t he shown yet? Swallowing a strange curiosity, Sooin put strength into his arm. He intended to hoist him up and drag him along.
“You shouldn’t be using this arm.”
Song Jaeyi, who’d been clinging to him all this time, suddenly pulled away. Straightening up abruptly and stepping back, he scrunched his face in a frown.
“It’s fine. You can let go now.”
Weren’t you using it just fine until now? Sooin added, waving his arm. As the black brace swung back and forth in front of him, Song Jaeyi grabbed the shoulder it was attached to and pressed it down firmly. His irritated, furrowed eyes glared at Sooin.
“What are you, a doctor, Hyung?”
“Our Jaeyi must’ve gone to a lot of academies… Did they teach you how to talk back so rudely too? Your teacher must be skilled.”
“Hyung, why don’t you just listen to the actual doctor?”
He wouldn’t let a single word slide. Shaking his head, Sooin turned around. With his uninjured hand, he yanked Song Jaeyi closer, draping his arm over his shoulder. It’d surely be more comfortable than leaning against his chest while walking.
“Doesn’t this make it easier to walk?”
Only then did Song Jaeyi nod quietly. Relieved, Sooin started walking faster. Just as he thought they could finally pick up the pace, it happened.
The voice he least wanted to hear rang out loudly.
“Hey? Isn’t that Song Hoobae and Kim Sooin?”
Pyo Hyungyeon approached, taking a big bite of his ice cream. Sooin quickly jabbed Song Jaeyi in the side—a warning to pretend to be unconscious right now—but the weight pressing on his shoulder lifted instead. Standing side by side, Song Jaeyi muttered an excuse.
“I can’t act.”
It was so characteristically him that Sooin couldn’t even respond. Pyo Hyungyeon was already right in front of them.
Surrounding Pyo Hyungyeon were a few other hoobaes from their department. Four or five of them, each holding an ice cream. Their hesitant faces drew closer, awkward and unsure. For a brief moment, their eyes met Sooin’s before darting away, as if guilty. Sooin narrowed his eyes.
No doubt about it—Pyo Hyungyeon had been spreading weird rumors again. It was obvious he was politicking with those cheap ice creams.
“You guys heading out now? No way, right?”
“Jaeyi’s pretty drunk. He drank way too much on his own today for some reason.”
Sooin wrapped his pointed words in a smile. But thick-skinned Pyo Hyungyeon didn’t flinch.
“He looks fine to me. It’s not even midnight yet! You’re leaving already?”
“We paid with Jaeyi’s card. Sunbae, I’ll treat you next time.”
Even as he answered politely, his patience was teetering on the edge. It’d be better for everyone if they just let it go. He sent a silent warning, but Pyo Hyungyeon was too oblivious to catch it.
“No way, Kim Sooin treating us isn’t the issue here. Song Hoobae, you answer.”
Having finished his ice cream, Pyo Hyungyeon pointed the stick at him. The rounded end of the still-damp wooden stick poked Song Jaeyi’s chest.
“You humiliated your sunbae, talking about selling your body or whatever, and you’re just gonna end it after the first round? No way, right?”
That was the breaking point. The anger that had been simmering all day erupted like a volcano. Yet Song Jaeyi responded without much emotion.
“Where are we going next?”
It was a casual, almost resigned tone. Pyo Hyungyeon grinned. Even the hoobaes exchanging glances behind him seemed to sense an odd vibe.
Then, Sooin’s furious spinning thoughts screeched to a halt. His boiling heart calmed in an instant, and his mind went blank. In that perfectly clear, composed rationality, Sooin smiled.
“Can’t stand to watch this anymore, seriously.”
With a cold mutter, Sooin swatted the stick away. The wooden stick flew out of Pyo Hyungyeon’s hand and rolled across the ground with a clatter.
“…Hey, what the hell? Guys, did you see that?”
Perhaps recalling a past memory, Pyo Hyungyeon’s voice trembled. But his expression suggested he thought he had solid backup behind him. Letting out a scoff, he stepped closer and put on a stern tone.
“Kim Sooin, what are you doing to your sunbae right now?”
The shaky bass in his voice was hardly threatening. Sooin laughed aloud, flashing a mocking smile.
“Sunbae? Does that include someone who spreads rumors behind our backs about Jaeyi getting sponsored or buying a watch by selling himself?”
“…What? Hey, I didn’t start that! I just heard it from someone…!”
“Then what about the gossip Jaeyi overheard that day? Did you call him a whore again…? Oh, let me guess.”
He’d never once thought of stooping to this level. No matter how filthy the rumors got, he’d always figured it was better to let them be. Fake rumors were preferable to watching the real story get twisted and dragged through the mud by other people’s mouths.
“Seeing you two stick together like that, maybe you’re spreading your legs for Song Jaeyi to pay your tuition?”
“Hyung.”
It must’ve hit close to the mark, because Song Jaeyi’s voice dropped low. What’s wrong with you? You said we need to finish the group project well. He quietly tried to stop him, pulling Sooin back. The hoobaes behind Pyo Hyungyeon reacted similarly, their wide eyes stammering, “S-s-s-sunbae.”
By now, passersby had started to stop. Fights breaking out in the university district were common, and people sniffed out trouble like ghosts. A few groups, noticing the commotion, stood at a distance to watch.
“Ha, I didn’t start that rumor, seriously… But while we’re at it, let me ask. Is that rumor true? Can you say it’s not?”
As always, Pyo Hyungyeon craved attention. With the audience growing, his voice got louder. “Oh, let go!” he shouted, shaking off an arm no one had grabbed. The startled hoobaes stepped back.
“No, damn it. That’s not it. You work multiple part-time jobs and tutor like crazy, right? So how do you have the money to wear a watch worth over ten million won?”
Rolling up his sleeves, Pyo Hyungyeon tilted his head aggressively. Despite his menacing face, like he’d throw a punch any second, he kept running his mouth.
“And you’re suspiciously close with Song Jaeyi too. Ever since freshman year, you’ve been obsessed with getting into Baekum Seoul, right? Your lifelong goal. And isn’t Jaeyi’s mom a manager there?”
What? Sooin almost asked aloud but barely held his tongue. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by that.
“Then suddenly you’re hanging out together, but you don’t even seem that close. It’s all about mutual benefit. Be honest—did you sell yourself for something? What is it, a job after graduation?”
“Shut your mouth.”
Pyo Hyungyeon’s face loomed closer. Song Jaeyi, scowling fiercely, shoved him. It was just a light push with his forearm to the chest, but Pyo Hyungyeon flopped to the ground dramatically. Gasps erupted from the distant onlookers. He even let out a theatrical wail.
The hoobaes circling him hesitated, unsure what to do. Pyo Hyungyeon shouted at them as they stood frozen.
“Hey, you guys saw that, right? These punks think they can treat their sunbae like a joke! Acting all high and mighty while selling their bodies…”
“Shut your damn mouth.”
Song Jaeyi, who’d held back until now, growled like an angry beast. His threatening stance as he approached the fallen Pyo Hyungyeon prompted Sooin to speed up his plan. Ideally, he’d wait until more onlookers gathered—maybe even drag everyone out of Yeoljeong Pocha—but…
“It’s an heirloom.”
This would be enough to spread the word. Shocking truths always traveled fast.
“That watch you spread rumors about, saying I got it from selling myself to a sponsor—it’s my father’s heirloom.”
Song Jaeyi turned to look at Sooin. His face was calm. Compared to the gasping crowd and the wide-eyed hoobaes, it was a tame reaction. That calmness let Sooin continue his explanation steadily.
“I knew who started those rumors and still let it slide. Even when my father’s watch got scratched, I didn’t demand compensation.”
“…”
“But since you keep acting so cheap and pathetic, Sunbae… I’m starting to change my mind.”
Pyo Hyungyeon stammered, his jaw trembling. He couldn’t decide whether to beg or argue. Sooin hadn’t asked expecting an answer, so he just pulled his lips into a smirk. With a glance signaling they were done, he nodded to the hoobaes too. Startled, they bowed repeatedly, their eyes brimming with guilt and sympathy.
This was why he hadn’t wanted to say anything…
With a bitter smile, Sooin tugged Song Jaeyi along. Without a word, Song Jaeyi followed right behind. For a while, their steps were silent. He might’ve been wearing the same expression as those hoobaes.
People turned something Sooin didn’t even define as a tragedy into a disaster. They pitied and mourned it carelessly. Some even shed tears as if it were their own story.
But Sooin kept going every day. He didn’t collapse under tragedy. Even on sad, painful days, he focused on the scraps of joy in his grasp and lived on.
He was grateful his little sister Suye was still alive, happy he could work multiple jobs with a healthy body. Their family’s home was intact, and his dream of joining Baekum Seoul remained. There was too much he had to do—and could do—to just give up.
Even so, people’s perspectives didn’t change easily. Knowing that all too well, he avoided resorting to this unless absolutely necessary.
But it was done now. There’d be gains from it, so he’d just have to endure. The pitying looks would fade with time.
For now, he’d focus on feeling relieved. With that simple conclusion, Sooin stopped walking. They’d reached a quiet street with few people around. In the still night, only the scattered streetlights greeted them.
Realizing belatedly he’d left his car behind, Sooin paused. How long would it take to walk back to where it was parked? As he gauged the distance, Song Jaeyi stayed silent, standing behind him, his presence felt only through faint sounds.
What kind of expression was Song Jaeyi making?
Before turning, Sooin steadied himself. He’d probably look like those flustered hoobaes—pitiful and guilty, brows drooping. Would Song Jaeyi still look pretty even with that face? With a lighthearted thought, Sooin turned around.
Two steps behind, Song Jaeyi stood with his head bowed, staring at the ground.
“Why don’t you just take a taxi from here…”
Mid-sentence, Song Jaeyi looked up. His gaze was sharp. Not sad or apologetic—angry. Far angrier than the day he’d nearly hit Pyo Hyungyeon in the hallway.
So much for steadying himself—Sooin froze, staring blankly at him. He blinked a few times, wondering if he’d misseen, but Song Jaeyi’s eyes didn’t change. They burned with fury, clear and piercing, not hazy like the distant commotion. They felt like they could scald.
“…I didn’t want to hear it like this.”
Song Jaeyi gritted his teeth and muttered. His red eyes narrowed like a child crying in frustration.
“I was waiting. Until you told me yourself. But…”
His chest heaved with ragged breaths. Sooin’s eyes widened as he stepped closer. His hand, instinctively raised to comfort, hesitated.
“Why did you have to say it because of that bastard…”
Unable to finish, Song Jaeyi filled Sooin’s heart to the brim. It felt like a confession of love, his chest tightening warmly. Even though this wasn’t that kind of moment.
“Hey, why are you getting angrier than me?”
Sooin teased gruffly on purpose. Still, Song Jaeyi panted and bit his lips, struggling to suppress his rage. The harder he tried, the faster his breathing grew.
“It’s worse because it’s my fault.”
“Who said that? That it’s your fault?”
“If I’d held back then… If I’d done better today…”
Tears welled in Song Jaeyi’s flushed eyes. But he held them back, muttering like it was a curse.
“It’s not because I’m sad—it’s because I’m pissed.”
Biting his lips hard as he spat out the excuse finally made Sooin laugh. Letting out a sigh-like chuckle, he lightly tapped Song Jaeyi’s chest with his fist and murmured.
“It’s not because of you.”
He’d never even told Professor Kwak, who vaguely knew his situation, the full story from his own mouth. To think he’d spilled it because of a school hoobae—it was absurd. Unless he was head over heels for Song Jaeyi.
So the answer was clear to Sooin. This wasn’t Song Jaeyi’s fault. He didn’t like Song Jaeyi that much. At least, that’s what he decided to believe for now.
“Pyo Hyungyeon’s behavior just keeps getting harder to ignore. Plus, there’s the alcohol.”
“…Liar. You’ve put up with it this long—why now?”
“That’s why they say alcohol’s the enemy.”
“You wanted to finish the group project well no matter what.”
“He’ll listen to me better now, out of guilt.”
The longer they talked, the more he regretted that impulsive moment. Frowning, Sooin nudged Song Jaeyi’s solid frame again.
“Can you take a taxi from here?”
Let’s end this boring talk and go home—Sooin urged him, adding an exaggerated yawn. Song Jaeyi shut his mouth instantly. His stubbornly pressed lips screamed displeasure. Ignoring it was impossible, so Sooin gave in.
“What now?”
“You’re lying.”
The near-non sequitur made sense immediately, drawing a sigh. Gripping Song Jaeyi’s sturdy shoulder firmly, Sooin spoke clearly.
“…Jaeyi, I’m really not lying. I didn’t say it just to save you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Hey… Hyung really doesn’t have feelings for you. Go ahead and date whoever you want, get married even. If I liked you, could I say this?”
The calm explanation worked. Song Jaeyi’s teary, red eyes slowly cooled. A chilly night breeze cut through the suddenly frosty air between them, mirroring his gaze. The mood froze over.
This was why he’d tried to send him off—it was too late now. Sooin ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
“Want me to be really honest?”
Since it was already too late, he’d drive the point home. Rubbing tired eyes, Sooin resolved himself.
“You and Pyo Hyungyeon? Once the group project’s over, you’re both people I won’t need to see anymore. It’s the same to me.”
Song Jaeyi’s face crumpled instantly. How could you say that? His furious eyes seemed to ask.
“Thanks for caring, but you don’t need to.”
“…”
“Got it? Let’s go now. Hyung’s tired.”
Adding that there was a taxi stand nearby, Sooin led the way toward the main road. Song Jaeyi, lingering in place for a moment, followed slowly behind. No shouting about how he could compare him to Pyo Hyungyeon—just silence.
That reaction tugged at Sooin’s heart. As he walked, he kept glancing at the dark shop windows, catching Song Jaeyi’s reflection dozens of times. With each step, uneasy questions piled up. Why was this big guy walking with his head down again like he was cowed? Why wasn’t he snapping back like usual? Had he finally gotten fed up this time?
The last question hit hard.
Shameless, Kim Sooin.
Clicking his tongue at himself, Sooin let out a long breath. The taxi stand came into view.
“Oh, but if I leave my car there till tomorrow, the parking fee’s gonna be steep.”
“…”
“Guess that’s no big deal to the Baekum prince?”
This time, he tried to lighten the mood. But Song Jaeyi’s response was even colder. Glaring at Sooin with his mouth shut tight, he muttered.
“You’re the one it doesn’t matter to, Hyung.”
Fair point. Sooin nodded silently, and Song Jaeyi’s lips curled into a sneer.
“Since we won’t see each other soon anyway.”
Without inflection, Song Jaeyi brushed past him. He strode toward the first taxi in line without hesitation.
The white teddy bear dangling from his leather bag swung wildly with his big, fast steps, mouth gaping as if begging for help. Sooin waved weakly at it—Goodbye, whatever. The taxi door slammed shut in response, and the car sped off.
Sooin trudged after it. Walking home would take ages, but the exhaustion might help him sleep fast. No looking back, no dreams.
❤︎₊ ⊹
But the next day, Sooin woke with damp eyes. He’d dreamed of that day three years ago again. As always after recalling the accident—no exceptions.
Calming down was second nature. He wiped the tears, splashed cold water on his face, and half the dream faded.
After rushing through his morning routine, Sooin stopped by the hospital before school. With Song Jaeyi’s departure looming, he needed to find the right suppressant soon. The doctor advised, “Rather than switching suppressants, you should adjust your lifestyle first,” but prescribed a new one anyway.
That delayed his arrival at school. Passing through the bustling main gate, Sooin climbed the hill. Spring was in full bloom, and the campus buzzed with energy. Amid students’ laughter and fresh greenery, he hurried—class was minutes away.
His brisk pace slowed. At a narrow path toward the tourism college building, a familiar face and voice stopped him.
“I knew that crazy bastard would pull something like that.”
“Exactly. Honestly, Sooin Sunbae’s a saint for putting up with it this long.”
“If it were me, I’d want to beat the crap out of Pyo.”
The four hoobaes were passionately venting in a tone far rougher than usual. Unfortunately, they were walking in a way that completely blocked the path, leaving no room to slip by. Instead, Sooin slowed his pace, putting a bit more distance between himself and them.
“What? If it were me, I’d just kill him.”
“Well, at least it’d be recognized as self-defense.”
He tried his best not to listen, but the excited hoobaes’ voices were just too loud. Pretending not to hear was impossible, so Sooin finally opened his vocabulary app. He figured he’d sit on a nearby bench for about ten minutes before heading up.
“But seriously, did no one in our department… not know? About Sooin Sunbae, that…”
“Of course no one knew. Who would’ve?”
The timing couldn’t have been worse. One of the most heated hoobaes suddenly glanced back. She turned without much thought, but her head froze mid-motion as she faced forward again. Her creaking neck swiveled back, and her face went pale upon seeing Sooin. He just raised the corners of his mouth in a small smile.
“Oh, man, how must he feel…”
Her companion, still processing the situation, muttered under her breath. The frozen hoobae jerked her elbow up. A sudden jab to the side elicited a scream from the group.
“Ow! Why’d she suddenly—huh, S-S-S-Sunbae, hello!”
“Gasp, hello…”
“Hi. You guys heading to Tourism and Leisure?”
Sooin asked with the same smiling face, and the now-pale hoobaes nodded in unison. Yes, yes, yes, yes. Their overly repeated responses dripped with panic.
This kind of situation was familiar to Sooin. Inside, he was just as flustered as they were, but he could act otherwise.
“Me too. The midterm was a bit tough, huh?”
“Oh, yes! Totally!”
“I almost turned in a blank sheet.”
Since it had come to this, he figured it’d be better to just go together. Sooin tossed out casual questions as if nothing had happened, matching their stride. The hoobaes, desperate to dispel the awkwardness, responded with even more fervor and enthusiasm.
Thankfully, the Tourism and Leisure class was on the first floor. Entering with the professor meant they didn’t have to talk longer. The hoobaes, silently relieved, rushed to the back row in a herd. Sooin took a window seat in the front.
As he sat and pulled out his books and pens, the back of his head felt warm. The odd stares that had poured in since he entered the classroom still seemed to cling to him. Still, Sooin didn’t mind. He listened to the lecture, answered questions, and took notes as usual. Even when Pyo Hyungyeon walked in midway through, he stayed unfazed. He didn’t care when Pyo deliberately sat nearby either.
But unlike Sooin, who didn’t spare him a glance, whispers rippled around the room. He could roughly guess the shape of the small and large waves of murmurs.
“Must be spring fever—everyone’s so restless today, huh?”
The professor tapped the podium with a puzzled look. Once the room quieted, the lecture resumed. The screen flipped, filling with photos of summer leisure sports. Propping his chin on his hand, Sooin thought to himself.
I wonder if Song Jaeyi’s into summer sports too. Would he be good at swimming?
For someone like Sooin, who never wasted time, these were rare idle thoughts.
Daydreaming made time fly. Just imagining Song Jaeyi in various scenes from the reference photos on the screen, and suddenly the atmosphere shifted. The professor had already said goodbye, the screen was off, and students were packing up. The belated clamor snapped Sooin out of his reverie.
What am I, a puberty-stricken teenager?
Swallowing an incredulous laugh, Sooin packed his bag. Rationalization followed his slow hands.
He usually lingered in the classroom anyway. He didn’t like getting swept up in the crowd that rushed out right after class. Normally, he was the last to leave and lock up—unless he had a tight part-time job schedule.
So today was just another typical day. Bolstering himself with that thought, Sooin stood—only to sense an unusually abnormal vibe.
Far more people remained in the classroom than on other days. Usually, everyone bolted the moment the professor said goodbye, but even long after he’d left, over half the class lingered. It wasn’t like they had another lecture right after—many had packed up but were still dawdling. Their constant sideways glances at each other were downright suspicious.
That’s when Sooin realized what scene they were all waiting for. It had to be because of Pyo Hyungyeon, who’d conveniently sat near him.
And now that he noticed, Pyo was acting oddly too. He kept fidgeting with his already-packed bag, unzipping and zipping it restlessly. He hovered around his desk for no reason, sneaking glances at Sooin. Anyone could tell he had something to say.
Song Jaeyi, who’d filled his mind in cool summer attire during the lecture, was swept away in an instant. His refreshed mood turned to fatigue.
Wanting to sigh five hundred times, Sooin stood up, pretending not to notice. Acting oblivious to the strange atmosphere, he walked past Pyo Hyungyeon as if he didn’t exist. He could read Pyo’s intentions too well, even before he opened his mouth.
“Uh, K-Kim Sooin!”
Sure enough. After hesitating, Pyo called out just as Sooin was about to leave. With the front door inches away, Sooin hesitated. Couldn’t he just keep going? As he debated, Pyo added a trembling voice.
“I-I’m sorry if I’ve upset you all this time. I didn’t know, uh, that you were… I said those things without knowing.”
“…”
“Looking back, I think I made a big mistake.”
If he genuinely wanted to apologize, he could’ve sought Sooin out privately. A message, a call, even a letter—Sooin didn’t particularly want one from Pyo, but it was an option.
Instead, Pyo chose the busiest major lecture slot, when the fresh rumor was still hot and all eyes were on them. He hurriedly called out, as if afraid Sooin might escape, and rambled excuses at his back. That was his version of an apology.
“Oh, uh… yeah…”
Sooin let out an awkward laugh as he turned. Everything was so predictably Pyo that this was all he could say.
The onlookers and Pyo’s faces froze in similar bewilderment. That’s it? their expressions seemed to ask. Sooin gave a short bow. Before he could turn again, his bag was grabbed.
“Hey, no, Sooin-ah. I get that you’re upset, but your sunbae’s apologizing first here…”
Pyo gestured toward the classroom with his chin, brows drooping pitifully. The gist was: Your lofty sunbae’s humiliating himself in front of everyone, so cut me some slack. Sooin widened his eyes, keeping the smile, and asked.
“Oh, that was an apology? I didn’t realize.”
“…Hey, I said I was sorry, what more—”
“There were so many conditions attached, I couldn’t really hear it.”
He wasn’t someone you could reason with anyway. Explaining what a proper apology was would just tire his mouth out, and since Sooin had decided not to be nice anymore, there was no need to say it was fine even as a formality. His response options were limited.
“Anyway, got it.”
“…Got it?”
“Yeah. See you in class, Sunbae.”
The waiting crowd might be disappointed, but Sooin didn’t want to waste more words. He shook off the grip on his bag and turned again. This time, Pyo didn’t grab him right away. But after a few steps into the hall, a loud voice rang out.
“Hey!”
A guy in a black cap sprinted up and grabbed Sooin. That drew the lingering crowd out of the classroom in a rush. Uh-oh, this is trouble—shouldn’t we stop him? Amid the murmurs, people poured out and stopped awkwardly. Groups clustered near the hall and door, whispering openly.
Rubbing stiff eyelids, Sooin faced Pyo Hyungyeon. His heaving breaths were full of indignation.
“What’s his deal?”
Someone in the crowd pointedly criticized Pyo. His already red face flared up as if it might burst. With a dark scowl, he snapped.
“Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?”
It seemed Pyo was finally giving the audience the scene they wanted.
“Should I get on my knees or something? Honestly, I didn’t even start those rumors from the beginning. I’m a victim too, okay? But since your situation’s, uh, like that, I figured I’d bend first! You can’t act like this.”
Sooin just stood there, watching Pyo dig his own grave. Blinking silently a few times, the heavy silence turned to sighs. The hushed onlookers started muttering too. As the growing criticism swelled, Pyo let out a shrill yell.
“Hey, what! Who are you guys? Got something to say? You all happily trashed Kim Sooin with me!”
Unable to contain his anger, Pyo stomped in place. The commotion grew louder than expected. Now even students from other departments were gathering, whispering.
“When did we?”
“It was all kids who heard it from Sunbae—why lie?”
“What? Crazy, when did I—”
“Is that sunbae actually insane?”
“What’s this? A fight with the tourism dept?”
“Isn’t that the famous jerk over there?”
Noise from all directions mixed together. It felt like all his energy was draining to the floor. Sooin swept his bangs up with a tired look.
As expected, getting tangled with Pyo Hyungyeon always led to a mess. He’d known this and avoided it as much as possible. Now that he’d stepped into it himself, regret couldn’t undo it.
“Sunbae.”
Sooin called him plainly. Pyo, who’d been yelling at the crowd, turned with fury still blazing.
“So, how about this?”
“What.”
Pyo’s tone softened slightly as he asked. Despite his gruff attitude, a glimmer of hope flickered in his eyes.
“Wanna take a hit?”
“…What?”
“Might help me feel better.”
“…W-What… Seriously?”
The hope in Pyo’s eyes sank into darkness. Seeing that shift, Sooin genuinely laughed. Wow, this guy’s got no pride. Not hiding his amused chuckle, Sooin shrugged lightly.
“But yeah, even so, how could I actually hit you?”
Even as he said that, Sooin gave Pyo a light push. The small frame staggered easily despite the playful lack of force. Another “Ohhh” rose from the crowd.
“I don’t really know how to let this go yet. I’ll think about it.”
Sooin steadied Pyo, who nearly tipped over, gripping his arms firmly with both hands and flashing a kind smile.
“Wait for me.”
When he deliberately squinted his eyes playfully, Pyo looked dazed. Leaving the stunned, pale guy behind, Sooin turned for real this time. No one stopped him as he walked out.
For the next few days, Pyo Hyungyeon avoided school. When he did show up, he wore a cap pulled low, spoke to no one, and snapped at the slightest whisper. Rumors floated around—Pyo had caused another scene, fought someone. People whispered to Sooin to watch out, sharing unwanted details.
Still, Sooin remained indifferent throughout. Even if he caught Pyo’s eye, he showed no reaction. He passed by naturally, like looking at an inanimate object. When a wide-eyed Pyo stammered “Uh, h-hey”, Sooin ignored it. They’d inevitably cross paths again for the group project, so he planned to enjoy Pyo’s anxious squirming a bit longer—a petty revenge of sorts.
But on the day that mild punishment should’ve ended, Pyo didn’t show up. Despite always looking desperate to talk whenever their eyes met, he skipped Professor Kwak’s lecture. With a puzzled look, Sooin sat next to Yiso.
“Where’s Sunbae?”
“Doesn’t seem like he’s coming. Junyong said something got posted yesterday…”
Yiso leaned in to whisper. Just then, Professor Kwak entered with a deep sigh, followed leisurely by Song Jaeyi. The moment their eyes met, Song Jaeyi narrowed his brows.
Feeling oddly glad to see him after a while, Sooin smiled in disbelief. You’re frowning the second you see me? He quirked an eyebrow as if to say that, but Song Jaeyi’s scowl deepened. His glare even hit poor Yiso, who’d been whispering close, making her jump back.
Song Jaeyi sat next to Sooin. The leather bag he slammed onto the desk made the white bear charm dangle. He hadn’t contacted Sooin or been seen at school much lately… but he hadn’t removed the bear. That pleased Sooin quite a bit. Cute kid, he muttered inwardly.
“Originally, the final exam was meant to build on the midterm project.”
Around then, Professor Kwak spoke in a displeased tone. His wrinkled cheeks twitched like a bulldog’s as he sighed repeatedly without calling roll.
“But due to various circumstances… the final will be replaced with a report. The group project will conclude with the midterm presentations.”
Announcing it in a heavy voice, Professor Kwak seemed to want to add something. His weighty gaze lingered on Sooin, then even longer on Pyo Hyungyeon’s empty seat.
In the end, he stubbornly shut his mouth and opened the attendance book. With a curt note that details would be posted online, roll call began.
“Good thing, though…”
Yiso murmured beside him. Sooin nodded in agreement, but a lingering unease made the gesture slow and hesitant. No longer being forcibly tied to Pyo Hyungyeon was clearly good news, yet he couldn’t feel purely happy.
Things felt oddly too easy. Life wasn’t usually this kind to him, and he worried some hidden misfortune was lurking. Plus, the end of the group project carried another meaning.
“Now you won’t have to see me anymore, Hyung.”
Song Jaeyi leaned in to whisper. The cold sneer in his low voice stirred old memories effortlessly.
“You and Pyo Hyungyeon? Once the group project’s over, you’re both people I won’t need to see anymore. It’s the same to me.”
He hadn’t realized those words would sever things so instantly. They were far from his true feelings. Even as he’d chosen harsh words on purpose, Sooin had been relieved.
No matter how much he pushed or distanced himself, they were still on the same team. They’d have to face each other until the project ended. He’d arrogantly assumed there was plenty of time before a goodbye—at least a month, maybe two. He’d expected to drift apart slowly and end things gracefully.
But once again, Sooin found himself before a trap he’d set. Words spat out to escape a moment had dug a deep pit. The black abyss loomed at his feet, dizzying him, and he pressed his eyes hard.
“Yeah.”
That was all he could say. Rubbing his eyes with the inside of his wrist, Sooin muttered again. Right, yeah… Trailing off, Song Jaeyi fell silent briefly before asking brusquely.
“Eyes hurt?”
His face was still scrunched, his tone tinged with odd irritation. Yet the hint of concern warmed Sooin despite his own dismay. Shaking his head slightly, he managed an excuse.
“Just a bit tired.”
Even with the half-hearted alibi, Song Jaeyi didn’t press. There was just a faint tsk from inside his mouth.
When class ended, Song Jaeyi bolted out like he was fleeing, without even a casual goodbye. He darted off before the professor’s farewell was done.
Sooin couldn’t tear his eyes from the retreating figure. Thanks to those long legs, he vanished from sight quickly. Only the white bear dangling from his bag lingered as an afterimage.
Maybe that cheap bear would be the last gift. If he’d known it’d end like this, he’d have picked a nicer doll. Regretting it endlessly, Sooin left the classroom with Yiso.
Descending the stairs, Yiso began slowing down. Noticing the group of students ahead, Sooin matched her pace. The distance from others gradually widened.
“Seems like Pyo Sunbae really said a lot of weird stuff.”
Only when it grew quiet did Yiso cautiously speak. It picked up from their rushed talk before class.
“Last night, a post went up with Pyo Sunbae’s name and student ID. Apparently, there are tons of victims.”
“Anonymous?”
“Yeah, no one knows who, but they say there were tons of chat screenshots. I heard about it after it was deleted, so I didn’t see, but Junyong said he trashed everyone. The language was super nasty too…”
Even without seeing it, the post felt vivid. Sooin nodded knowingly as he stepped down the stairs. Yiso sighed, badmouthing Pyo a bit more before quieting down at Sooin’s silence. They walked the downhill path to the main gate in silence for a while.
“Anyway, you went through a lot, Sunbae.”
“You too, Yiso.”
“I meant it about treating you to food, so let’s eat next week!”
At the path near the main gate, Yiso bowed. Sooin had no intention of letting a much younger hoobae treat him, even next year, but he just smiled. Sure, he replied emptily, waving. Yiso insisted, “Seriously!” as she walked off.
Watching her run to the shuttle stop, Sooin turned back up the path he’d come from. With an awkward hour before the next class, memorizing vocab in a quiet spot was more efficient. His steps naturally headed to his hidden spot but paused. He sensed someone running up behind him.
Thinking Pyo might’ve lost it and come for trouble, Sooin turned slowly, deliberately giving him a chance. The steady sound pounding up the hill stopped.
A tall figure halted a couple steps away, catching his breath. Warm eyes met his. It was Song Jaeyi.
“Here.”
Panting lightly, he held out a vitamin drink. Sooin stared blankly at the brown glass bottle.
“Drink it.”
Did he rush out right after class to buy this? The thought swelled his chest. It felt like Song Jaeyi’s ragged breathing had transferred to him.
“I bought one, but they gave me two. So…”
Unsure about Sooin’s stiff reaction, Song Jaeyi tacked on a logical reason. His tone, as if inconvenienced by a giveaway, somehow broke down Sooin’s walls. Letting out a breathy laugh, Sooin surrendered and took the cold bottle.
“Thanks, I’ll enjoy it.”
While he was at it, Sooin sat on a nearby bench. With a click, he popped it open and downed it all at once. Though he usually found it too sweet, it felt excessively refreshing now.
Meanwhile, Song Jaeyi sat on the bench across from him, a small path between them. Sooin stared at the bag he’d set down beside him, tidying the bottle. Even as he carefully capped the sharp lid, his eyes stayed glued to the bear dangling from the bag. The regret wouldn’t leave.
“It’ll get dirty fast. Being white.”
He hadn’t meant to mutter something so random… Sooin quickly shut his mouth.
Just then, a strong gust swept between them. Whoosh—the fierce wind roared past like waves, giving him a natural excuse to turn away. Hiding his face with his arm as if shielding from the breeze wasn’t odd. Sooin gazed into the distance.
The spring wind, sweeping everything, soon subsided, leaving only the scent of fresh green. Song Jaeyi slipped into the quiet gap effortlessly.
“That brace. Going to get it off tomorrow?”
He’d even memorized the hospital date. Sooin lowered his arm slowly, looking at Song Jaeyi. Squinting silently, Song Jaeyi added another question.
“What time? I’ll take you.”
This guy always exceeded expectations. The unexpected turn threw Sooin off. After a moment of choosing words, he let out a laugh-like sigh.
“Why you? You’ve paid enough for your mess.”