“Wild raspberries? Want me to try making wild raspberry macarons?”
“No, it’s not that. There’s a wild raspberry bush on the mountain behind my house. If you like them, I was going to pick some for you.”
“Really? I love them! Wild raspberry cake is my absolute favorite. My grandma lives deep in the mountains of Gangwon Province, so when I was little, I used to go up the mountain with her and pick wild raspberries to make things.”
Her dad’s cakes were good, sure, but her grandmother’s jam had been something else entirely. As if she’d been pulled back into those memories, Yeon-seo’s eyes softened, soaking in nostalgia.
“Really? That’s perfect. I’ll pick some this weekend.”
“Really?”
“Pick them for her? Don’t be ridiculous.”
The bright smile on Yeon-seo’s face shifted upward—far above Yi-hyeon’s forehead. When Yi-hyeon turned around, Han Jun was standing there, staring down at him blankly, his bag already set down by the stands.
Han Jun’s sulky gaze, which had been fixed on Yi-hyeon, slid over to Yeon-seo.
“That mountain’s dangerous as hell, you know. What are you gonna do if you get hurt trying to pick berries?”
“I’ve been running around that mountain since I was little. There’s no reason I’d get hurt—”
At Yi-hyeon’s words, Han Jun sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth and furrowed his brow.
“Don’t make me laugh. The slope’s steeper than a water park slide.”
He went on about how this country had a serious safety-awareness problem, how even a climbing athlete would struggle to scale it. Yeon-seo looked genuinely worried as she spoke.
“You don’t have to push yourself that hard just to pick some for me.”
“It’s not pushing myself! I could go there with my eyes closed—”
“Enough talking. Come with me.”
Han Jun slung an arm over Yi-hyeon’s shoulder and tugged him along with a bit of force.
“This is the meeting point. Where are we going?”
“Hey, looking at your bag, didn’t one of your water bottles burst?”
“Seriously? My phone! Ah, shit—”
There were his English vocab notebook and a bunch of other important stuff inside. Yi-hyeon’s face twisted as he hurriedly said goodbye to Yeon-seo.
“I’ll definitely pick you some wild raspberries! Good luck with your match today!”
Leaving behind Yeon-seo, who answered with a dazed, “Uh—yeah,” Yi-hyeon sprinted toward the stands.
Sure enough, one of the bottled waters had burst, water steadily leaking out.
“My phone! Ah, fuck, what is wrong with me.”
Since it was an older model and might not be waterproof, Yi-hyeon frantically rummaged through his bag—only for a phone to be thrust into his line of sight.
“My back felt damp, so I pulled your phone out first. Cut me some slack for opening your bag without asking.”
“Holy shit, thank god. Seriously, thank you. If it broke, that’s all money to replace it, and this month’s living expenses are already—huh? Wait. You said your back was damp?”
He sprang up and ran his hand over Han Jun’s back. His clothes were soaked through with icy water, the chill seeping all the way to his skin.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Han Jun flinched. Only then did Yi-hyeon realize his hand had been roaming all over Han Jun’s back, and he quickly pulled it away. Curling his fingers into his palm, he opened his mouth to break the awkward silence.
“My bad. Your gym clothes got completely soaked because of me. Sorry.”
“What’s there to be sorry about? It’s not like you deliberately packed a busted water bottle.”
“Still, what should we do? Ah—towel, towel. Want me to grab you a towel? I’ve got one in the classroom.”
“It’s hot out. It’ll dry fast.”
“Even so—”
“More importantly, are you like this with everyone?”
Not understanding what he meant, Yi-hyeon raised his eyebrows and asked back.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Do you accept anything anyone gives you and smile at everyone for no reason?”
“I’m not like that with everyone.”
“Then what about her?”
“Her?”
“She’s not included in ‘everyone,’ then?”
Han Jun’s sharp gaze pierced straight into Yi-hyeon’s eyes. Before the weight in Han Jun’s lowered voice could fully fade, Yi-hyeon answered.
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The girl from earlier. I’m asking if you like her.”
“Are you insane? I don’t like her.”
Being asked whether you like someone else by the person you like—it was beyond bewildering. It was downright unpleasant. Yi-hyeon jumped, his voice rising.
“You said you weren’t close last time, but you actually were. You said you definitely didn’t like her, but couldn’t that change?”
Han Jun’s words were always beyond Yi-hyeon’s scope of understanding. On top of that, his tone was twisted and irritating today, making it even harder to follow.
“What the hell are you even saying…?”
“If you don’t like her, then draw a line. Set boundaries.”
“Why do you keep telling me to draw lines? I’m not a math teacher.”
“Because you accept everything one by one, the other person ends up misunderstanding.”
“No one’s misunderstanding anything. Especially not with someone like me.”
“It’s because you’re someone like you that they misunderstand.”
Someone like me.
Someone who wasn’t good at anything. Someone with no parents, no money. Someone dull and naïve, always smiling stupidly and getting taken advantage of. As Yi-hyeon sorted through what Han Jun meant by “someone like you,” his shoulders drooped.
“What’s ‘someone like me,’ anyway…?”
At Yi-hyeon’s voice, falling without confidence, the sharpness in Han Jun’s eyes slowly eased.
“What do you think? Don’t you even know your own worth?”
“I think I know it pretty well. I’m bad at everything. Stupid. Dense.”
As Han Jun listened quietly to Yi-hyeon’s muttering, he waved his hand, saying that wasn’t it.
“What are you even talking about? That’s not what I mean—”
After glancing around and rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, Han Jun looked sideways at Yi-hyeon, who was slumped and dejected, and tossed out the words like an afterthought.
“When someone as good-looking as you treats them nicely, most people end up deluding themselves into thinking you like them.”
It was so noisy around them that Yi-hyeon didn’t properly catch what had slipped out of Han Jun’s mouth.
“Deluding themselves? What?”
Han Jun turned his reddened face away, frowning deeply—then his eyes flew open. He stared at Yi-hyeon, who was tilting his head, clearly not understanding, then burst out with a hollow laugh. After that, he snatched the water bottle from Yi-hyeon’s hand.
“…Forget it. I’m going to throw this busted water away.”
For some reason, the tips of Han Jun’s ears, usually pale white, were dyed bright red. Yi-hyeon followed closely behind him as he headed toward the recycling area, then mustered the courage to ask again.
“I said I didn’t hear what you said.”
“I said I’m going to throw the water away.”
“No, before that.”
“Uh-huh. I said I’m going to throw the water away before that too.”
“That’s not it. You said something about being good-looking and liking and… deluding.”
“Yeah, that was your imagination.”
Chasing after Han Jun as he climbed the stand stairs indifferently, Yi-hyeon noticed that because Han Jun’s gym clothes were light-colored, the soaked fabric left his skin clearly visible underneath. Glancing around, Yi-hyeon suddenly went tatadak, sprinting up the stands two steps at a time. Then he stuck close behind Han Jun, pressing up against him as if to shield his back with his own body.
“Ah, Auntie’s at it again, asking me to model for—”
“Ah!”
Relieved that no one had noticed his attractive back, Han Jun stopped to check a text message—only for Yi-hyeon to crash straight into him.
“…What are you doing?”
“It’s mine—why are you throwing it away? Give it back.”
At Han Jun’s question as he turned around, Yi-hyeon couldn’t bring himself to say that he’d been trying to cover up those sensual back muscles so other people wouldn’t notice. Instead, he snatched the water bottle from Han Jun’s hand and bolted for the recycling area.
Whether it was from running or from his feelings toward Han Jun, Yi-hyeon’s cheeks burned hot all over.
