“Did you really have a thing with this guy?”
When asked that, Ha-rim frantically shook her head. She added that they had only eaten together twice and that she had never once given him any room to misinterpret her intentions.
The guy, who was ridiculously tall but had nothing else worth noting, got even more riled up at that. He insisted that Ha-rim had been leading him on. Sa-yoon, watching him, casually provoked him even further.
“Wow, there really are online losers who think just talking to a woman means she’s into them. This is amazing. Can I interview you about this?”
In the end, they got into a scuffle and ended up at the police station. The guy, buttoned up to the neck in his checkered shirt, kept insisting he had been choked, flailing around in exaggerated protest.
The real surprise happened when they arrived at the station. As soon as they stepped inside, a middle-aged officer who was already seated looked up and greeted Sa-yoon like an old acquaintance.
“Oh! This guy again? You’re back already?”
Again…? That might have been the only moment when Ha-rim and her delusional admirer shared the same thought.
After hearing the details and noticing Ha-rim’s face had gone completely pale, the officer let out a loud click of his tongue.
“You really have no shame, do you? A grown-ass man pulling this shit with a woman?”
The guy, who had been so loud before, shrank under the officer’s scolding. He barely managed to stammer out a word of protest and, once outside the station, started muttering curses about filing a complaint.
“Hey.”
Sa-yoon, watching him, called out.
“Be careful when you’re walking around at night. I’ve got intermittent explosive disorder, so I take meds for it. But sometimes when I drink, I forget. That’s why I end up here every now and then.”
He gestured over his shoulder at the police station with his thumb.
“I’ve already been here a few times, so coming in once more doesn’t make a difference to me. And honestly? I’m feeling pretty annoyed right now.”
His tone was eerily flat, like a lifeless AI reading a script. His face remained expressionless, but his eyes gleamed unnervingly as he spoke. He looked like someone who had completely given up on life.
The guy’s face turned ghostly pale.
Without another word, he bolted.
As Ha-rim watched him flee, she instinctively took a couple of steps away from Sa-yoon.
“…Was that true?”
“Oh? You believe that too?”
The monotone, textbook-reciting voice from earlier was completely gone.
Later, Ha-rim found out the truth. Sa-yoon had ended up at the same bar as the police officer, sitting at a neighboring table. They hit it off and ended up drinking together. As for the police station visits? Those were because of the interviews he was conducting.
Was that even possible? She had her doubts at first. But after getting to know Sa-yoon, she realized it was completely within the realm of possibility.
Having been in his debt, Ha-rim naturally felt grateful toward him. So when he asked her for a favor—his first request in years—she really wanted to follow through. But now, after introducing him to her junior, something about the atmosphere felt… off.
Still unable to shake off her suspicions, Ha-rim asked, “You’re sure nothing happened between you and Shin-jae back then, right?”
“Yeah. We’re close.”
“Did Shin-jae maybe mess up or say something to you?”
“I’m telling you, it’s nothing.”
“Then… could it be that you—?”
“Ha-rim, is our friendship really that shallow?”
Ha-rim inhaled sharply through her lips. She still wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t have the nerve to push further, so she just let out a long exhale.
“Everyone sure is interested in Shin-jae.”
“It’s not about Shin-jae—it’s you everyone’s curious about. Even Myung-woo.”
“Me?”
“You never act like this. That’s why it’s weird.”
“Ha-rim, who is it that matters here—Shin-jae or me?”
“Do you even have to ask? Of course it’s Sa Shin-jae. He’s our club’s poster boy right now.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
That was what she said, but Ha-rim had known Sa-yoon for a long time. She understood what kind of person he was—someone who couldn’t stand injustice and had a soft spot for the underdog.
He was the one who publicly exposed the department’s hazing culture, posting a manifesto on the school bulletin board. A detailed breakdown of all the abusive traditions was uploaded to an online community, and for a while, the post titled The Shameful State of Korea University’s Film Department was circulating everywhere.
Thanks to him, a lot of the deep-rooted toxic traditions had faded away. He wasn’t the type to pick on juniors just because he didn’t like them.
“…You’re really sure nothing weird is going on? You’re not bullying Shin-jae to the point where he suddenly quits the club or anything, right?”
“It’s nothing like that.”
Then why did he look so damn guilty? His whole demeanor screamed I won’t tell you no matter how much you ask.
But… they were all adults. Whatever happened, they could handle it themselves. Ha-rim shook her head and backed off.
Watching from a distance, Myung-woo approached and asked, “What’d he say?”
Ha-rim shrugged.
“No idea. But I think something’s definitely going on between them.”
“Did Sa Shin-jae mess up?”
Myung-woo, who asked that, also seemed convinced that Shin-jae must have done something wrong. He had known Sa-yoon long enough to be sure of one thing—there was no way that guy, who was usually a great senior, would bully a junior for no reason.
“He says that’s not it either.”
“Then what the hell is this?”
This was getting kind of interesting. While the two peers were lost in their growing confusion, Sa-yoon, on the other hand, was in a great mood.
At first, he had just wanted to show them what real flirting looked like. But trying to flirt with someone he had no real feelings for was so unbearably cringeworthy that he almost couldn’t go through with it.
Instead, what he did enjoy was how Shin-jae would turn all sorts of colors but still try to act unaffected every time Sa-yoon added just a spoonful of warmth to his tone.
Before he knew it, he had completely abandoned the idea of flirting. Now, his sole focus was on relentlessly teasing Sa Shin-jae.
***
“Huh?”
“Everyone finished early today, so they went out to eat. I stayed behind because you said you were coming.”
The last class had run a little late because of a group project. By the time Shin-jae arrived at the club room, it was just past six.
Normally, the noise from inside would carry all the way to the hallway, but today, it was strangely quiet. Thinking that was odd, he opened the door.
Inside, there was only one person sitting on the couch, reading a script—the very senior who had been hounding him non stop these past few days.
“So, what should we eat?”
“Why would I eat with you?”
“Wow, the moment it’s just the two of us, you drop the act.”
Shin-jae answered with his expression alone.
“Man, I never realized this before, but the way you look down on people is kind of hot. Thanks to you, I think I’m developing a new taste.”
“You are seriously fucking unbearable.”
“So, Shin-jae, have you figured out the difference between flirting and stalking yet?”
As if.
“Shin-jae. So, what are we eating?”
Shin-jae. Shin-jae. Shin-jae.
He rubbed his forehead, feeling a migraine coming on. This was turning into a full-blown neurosis. The other day, he even jumped in shock when he misheard someone on the bus calling for someone else.
In the end, they went to eat together. There was no shaking off someone who looked ready to follow him to the ends of the earth. After the past few days, Sa Shin-jae had gained a valuable life lesson—it was easier to just give up.
“I’ll have mul-naengmyeon.”
The place they went to was a naengmyeon restaurant near campus. His choice of menu made it clear he was just trying to eat something quick and get the hell out.
The whole way there, Shin-jae had maintained a strict vow of silence, while Sa-yoon had been enthusiastically rambling on about how tangy and refreshing the broth was. The moment they sat down, he was already ordering.
“Ah.”
As Shin-jae pulled out his chair and sat down, he suddenly froze. The backrest was sticky. His appetite instantly vanished.
“Should we leave?”
“…Huh?”
“We haven’t ordered yet, so if you want to go, let’s go.”
With that, Sa-yoon stood up. No hesitation, no second thoughts—he was already heading toward the door.
“Auntie~ Something came up, we’ll come back another time!”
Shin-jae felt a little dazed.
“Not coming?”
“…Let’s go.”
The tonkatsu place Sa-yoon led him to next was noticeably cleaner than the last restaurant.
“I’m just going to the restroom for a bit.”
Inside the restaurant’s bathroom, Shin-jae lathered his hands with soap, tilting his head in thought.
Just as Sa-yoon had been learning more about him, Shin-jae had been unwillingly picking up things about Sa-yoon too.
First off, despite how he looked, Cha Sa-yoon had no problem sprawling out anywhere and wasn’t picky about food. Shin-jae had been downright shocked when he saw him sharing straws with other people like it was nothing. And on top of that…
“He doesn’t make a big deal out of it.”
On the way here, Sa-yoon had been practically singing praises about naengmyeon, talking about how amazing it was and how much he loved it. He had even force-fed Shin-jae stories about his grand tour of naengmyeon spots across the country.
And yet, he gave it up just like that.
Normally, someone like him should’ve at least thrown in a comment like, Because of you, I didn’t get to eat what I wanted, or I sacrificed my craving for our dear Shin-jae. Given the way he had been acting the past few days, that would’ve been par for the course. But Sa-yoon didn’t say a word about it.
What was even more surprising was that Sa-yoon had noticed.
He had been conditioned since childhood not to show his likes or dislikes. Most people never picked up on when he was uncomfortable or displeased.
Still mulling over that, he finished washing his hands and stepped back into the dining area—only for his expression to instantly darken.
“What the hell are you looking at?”
He snatched the phone out of Sa-yoon’s hands in one swift motion.
“Hey! Why are you—”
But the rest of Sa-yoon’s protest trailed off.
Because Shin-jae’s own phone was still sitting on the table, untouched.
Sa-yoon blinked a few times, then broke into a soft chuckle.
“Guess our phones do look like a couple set, huh?”
It was an honest mistake—same model, both with plain transparent cases.
“You play that game too?”
He held out his palm expectantly.
Since he had just snatched it away, Shin-jae had no choice but to silently return the phone.
“I wasn’t looking on purpose. Our alarms just happened to go off at the exact same time.”
