“Whoa, it was a one-versus-seventeen fight. An honorable battle.”
For the past few days, Sa-yoon’s focus had been entirely on Shin-jae. He’d been making Sa Shin-jae’s mood plummet, then laughing at the sight of it.
And now, that same guy was casually throwing out a lame joke with a straight face, smiling as he talked to someone else. It felt strange.
“How long has it been? Haven’t seen you since you visited me in the hospital, right?”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Cha Sa-yoon, you could’ve been a son of God, but what a shame. Your luck’s absolute shit. How do you get discharged and then get injured like that?”
“You said the exact same thing back then.”
“Did I? When are you coming back to school? You’ll be a sophomore now, right?”
“Yeah. And you? Are you graduating soon?”
As expected of one of Cha Sa-yoon’s friends, the guy standing behind him was just as energetic. As if trying to prove how long it had been since they last met, he kept firing off questions.
Sa Shin-jae, who had been resting his chin on his elbow on the table, tilted his head slightly.
Blocking the walkway and chatting at someone else’s table—wasn’t that just rude?
Sa Shin-jae wasn’t as socially adept as people assumed. He especially couldn’t stand noisy people like this.
Come to think of it, when Sa-yoon used to chase after him, it had been loud too, but it had never been this grating.
He glanced across the table and saw Sa-yoon grinning, a bruise settled just below his sharp, slanted eyes. His skin must have been sensitive—his back, which Shin-jae had caught a glimpse of earlier, had been covered in a patchwork of bruises too.
Just as he was about to stand up, deciding that if this guy didn’t disappear within the next five seconds, he’d leave instead—
He started counting in his head, but before he could finish, it wasn’t the guy who left. Instead, Sa-yoon, who had been sitting across from him, suddenly got up.
Shin-jae, caught off guard, automatically followed him with his gaze.
“Wait a sec. Shin-jae, I’m gonna step out for a smoke.”
“What?”
“Oh yeah, I heard you helped out at Min-gyu’s shop the other day.”
“You heard about that?”
Shin-jae was taken aback by how casually it was said and reflexively asked back, but his question was drowned out by the other guy’s voice.
“They called me, too, asking for help. You know that mukbang YouTuber, Bapsatto? He uploaded a video there recently. Looked like absolute hell, so I told them no way.”
“Ah, shit, no wonder…”
Sa-yoon’s eyes narrowed like a Tibetan fox’s. He mumbled to himself, something about how the flood of orders had been unreal.
Shin-jae knew the YouTuber the guy had mentioned—Bapsatto. A channel with a whopping three million subscribers. Someone with enough influence to have a regular spot on broadcast TV.
“So, how was it? Was the food good? If it’s worth it, I might drop by and try it myself.”
“Don’t even mention it. After making 500 sandwiches, I didn’t even want to eat one. My hands still smell like eggs.”
For some reason, the guy found that hilarious, throwing his head back as he laughed. Shin-jae, without a word, pushed the plate of radish sitting in the middle of the table to one side.
“Where’s the place located? I should check it out this weekend.”
“It’s in Seowidong. If you take the 125 from the front gate, it goes straight there. Takes about twenty minutes. Wanna go together next time?”
Shin-jae’s hand, which had been moving the plate, stiffened slightly. The 125 bus was the one he used to take when visiting his family home. It was also the bus where he had run into Sa-yoon.
That day, Sa Shin-jae had been convinced that Sa-yoon had finally lost it—had gone completely insane and tracked him all the way home.
After an early dinner, feeling restless, he had stopped by a convenience store. And there, once again, he had run into Sa-yoon. By that time, it had already been hours since they had both gotten off the bus.
Back in school, Shin-jae’s private tutor had once stolen his clothes. The moment he was caught, he was immediately fired.
His father, ever conscious of his public image as a professor, chose not to press charges. Instead, he had scolded Shin-jae, demanding to know why a student of his should be conducting himself in such a way.
Whether it was because he had gone unpunished or because he had been unhinged from the start, the man began trailing Shin-jae home from school for a while.
Shin-jae had wanted to do something about it, but the man never did anything beyond following him. A cunning pervert. And since the stalker was a man, the authorities had simply dismissed Shin-jae’s reports, saying it didn’t qualify as stalking.
Those memories had resurfaced, leaving him on edge. And the next day, when he saw Sa-yoon lingering around the business building, he had completely snapped.
But that had been the extent of it.
Unaware of Shin-jae’s increasingly troubled expression, the two outside had slung their arms around each other’s shoulders and walked off together.
Shin-jae’s gaze trailed after them. From what he had gathered, it had clearly been a long time since they last met. And yet, watching them, they might as well have been lifelong best friends.
The same guy who used to chase after him as if his life depended on it…
And that was when Sa Shin-jae realized something.
Cha Sa-yoon was simply that kind of person. Someone with a lot of friends, someone who knew people across different departments, someone who could meet an old acquaintance after a long time and talk as if no time had passed.
The door jingled as it swung shut, and Shin-jae replayed the conversation in his head.
A sophomore, the 125 bus, the hospital visit, the ‘son of God’ comment, and just a few days ago, roaming around near his house for hours with a carton of eggs…
***
“Not a fan of the menu?”
Yong-seon, an old army buddy, had come back inside with him after a quick smoke break. Shin-jae still looked sullen.
“Or are you upset I didn’t introduce you?”
At that, Shin-jae’s sharp, well-groomed brows twitched upward. That didn’t seem to be the issue. Then what was?
“…Order it.”
“Huh?”
“Order it. Beer.”
“But earlier, you said no.”
“Two drafts, 500cc each, please.”
“You’re drinking too?”
“I’ll call a driver.”
What’s gotten into him all of a sudden? Sa-yoon shrugged and transferred some of the freshly served fried chicken onto a small plate while taking a drag from his cigarette.
The draft beer they ordered arrived quickly. Sa-yoon pushed a glass toward Shin-jae with his uninjured hand. Though Shin-jae’s expression remained sour, he still clinked his glass against Sa-yoon’s.
After taking a big gulp, Sa-yoon spoke.
“It’s a little late, but… we’re good now, right? If we run into each other outside, let’s at least say hi.”
He genuinely meant it. They had fought, calling each other all sorts of names, but now that things had settled, he hoped they could smooth things over.
“Sunbae, by any chance—”
Ding.
The bell above the entrance jingled.
It was only natural for a fried chicken place to have customers coming and going, so neither of them paid much attention.
But then, an all-too-familiar voice called out to Sa-yoon.
“Cha Sa-yoon!”
Yong-seon walked over, carrying a black plastic bag, and stuffed it into Sa-yoon’s arms.
“What’s this? A hangover cure?”
“You always end up eating a popsicle whenever you drink.”
“Oh, damn, that’s some good thinking.”
Sa-yoon gave Yong-seon a thumbs-up. They’d gone drinking together enough times after their discharge for him to remember Sa-yoon’s little drinking habit.
“Alright, I’m heading out. See you later!”
Yong-seon, his face completely flushed, exaggeratedly waved both hands before stumbling out of the store.
Sa-yoon, who had waved back, opened the bag and found two chocolate-flavored popsicles neatly tucked inside.
“Want some ice cream?”
“Tell me if there’s anything you want.”
“What?”
“I mean it. I take some responsibility for your injury.”
What’s he thinking now? Sa-yoon furrowed his brows slightly. Sa Shin-jae was impossible to read.
To begin with, Sa-yoon never blamed Shin-jae for his injury. It wasn’t like Shin-jae had deliberately knocked the lighting fixture onto him. If anything, he had saved him from an accident.
That was why Sa-yoon had gone to the hospital with him, paid the bills, and considered it settled.
And yet, this barely twenty-year-old kid kept trying to take responsibility for something that wasn’t his fault.
“For now, just say it. I’ll listen.”
Shin-jae’s usually flawless face was a mess, his expression completely unguarded. He looked like a cat that had gotten scolded after knocking over something expensive.
“Hey, this is when you’re supposed to just say ‘thank you.’”
Sa-yoon lightly tapped his arm with his uninjured hand, but Shin-jae didn’t react.
Why does he look so damn miserable?
His body still ached like hell, but seeing Shin-jae sulking like that made Sa-yoon instinctively straighten up and act like he was perfectly fine.
“Because I’m grateful. So tell me what you want.”
This was an opportunity. Since Shin-jae felt responsible for his injury, he was offering an equivalent exchange.
Sa-yoon scratched his cheek at the unexpected proposal, hesitating for a moment.
The attitude was commendable, but he wasn’t too keen on piling more guilt onto a kid six years younger than him. Shin-jae already seemed to be beating himself up over it. Asking for something on top of that felt too much like exploiting a weakness—it didn’t sit right with him.
“Then just buy me a meal sometime.”
“…Why?”
Shin-jae’s face twisted slightly, as if that wasn’t the answer he had been expecting.
“Are you fishing for a specific answer?”
“Huh?”
“It feels like you’re forcing a response out of me.”
“You had a reason for following me around.”
That was true.
But…
That night after the company dinner, Sa-yoon had already abandoned the idea of casting Shin-jae in his graduation project.
Looking at that guilt-ridden, pitiful face, he couldn’t bring himself to take advantage of him.
“It’s not like you got me hurt on purpose just to screw me over. It was just an accident.”
“…And that’s enough for you?”
“Well, it’d be nice if you at least listened to the filming plans over a meal.”
He deliberately kept it light, but Shin-jae’s expression hardened, clearly dissatisfied.
“…Alright.”
But despite the look on his face, he agreed without resistance.
It was strange.
Back when Sa-yoon had been nice to him, Shin-jae had shut him down every time.
But after one moment of putting his body on the line to save him, suddenly, he was obedient.
