“Waaahhhhh!”
The moment the whisper dropped, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd. Glancing belatedly at the scoreboard, the massive word ‘HOMERUN’ blazed across the screen.
Because the broadcast inside was a few seconds behind, the cheer came slightly delayed indoors as well. Reflexively, both of them turned around.
“Woooo! It’s a homerun! A HOMERUN!”
Yoon Seong-gon shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing himself into Mr. Yoon’s arms in pure joy. His eyes met Bae Jung-yoon’s. He was still smiling, as if this moment truly delighted him.
Overcome with excitement, Yoon Seong-gon flung the glass door open and ran straight to Hoon.
“Hyung, did you see that? It was a homerun!”
The way he threw his arms around Hoon made their earlier conversation feel irrelevant. Hoon’s lips curved into a grin despite himself—it was the first time he’d ever seen Yoon Seong-gon this thrilled.
Then the crowd around them began turning on their phone flashlights and singing in unison.
“C’mon, hyungs! Turn yours on too!”
Yoon Seong-gon, standing next to them, pulled out his phone and egged them on. Unable to fend off his persistence, Go Hoon finally took out his own phone, and Bae Jung-yoon followed suit without a word, doing exactly what Seong-gon wanted.
With his arms around theirs, Yoon Seong-gon began gently swaying them left and right. Hoon shot him a look of mild annoyance but still followed along, moving his hand in rhythm. Caught between them with an arm over each shoulder, Seong-gon belted out the song at full volume.
The chorus echoed across the entire stadium. Go Hoon stared at the sea of flickering lights before glancing over at Bae Jung-yoon. As if he’d completely forgotten the conversation they’d had moments ago, Jung-yoon was focused on the field, eyes alight.
The shimmering lights resembled ocean waves, rippling across the stands. Maybe it was because this was such a new experience, or maybe it was the way Bae Jung-yoon was smiling so brightly beside him—he wasn’t quite sure.
Just for a second, a fleeting thought crossed his mind: Someday, wouldn’t it be nice to visit a quiet beach, just the two of us?
But the thought was so soft, so fleeting, that it was swept away almost immediately—lost to the singing voices that rose and disappeared into the sky.
***
Thanks to spending his break studying hard for the TOEIC, Go Hoon managed to score well enough to be satisfied. August ended, the semester began, and the two returned to their daily routines.
Well—technically speaking, Go Hoon was now living under Bae Jung-yoon’s overprotective watch.
Jung-yoon messaged him constantly throughout the day. He always wanted to know where Hoon was, who he was with, and what he was doing. If Hoon’s reply came even a little late, his phone would ring almost immediately.
He claimed it was out of worry—concerned that Hoon’s health might suddenly worsen again like before. But the intensity of his attention was clearly a bit much.
It felt like Bae Jung-yoon wanted to keep him in the palm of his hand. Or rather, he already had. At some point, their lives had become so intertwined that it now felt natural to move in sync with him.
After class, Go Hoon crossed the campus, heading to another building. As he walked, his fingers flew over his phone, composing a message to Bae Jung-yoon.
That morning, his landlady had suddenly called. She said someone would be coming to check the gas around 3 p.m. and asked if he could be there to open the door. She apologized, saying she meant to tell him earlier but forgot.
Then, in a roundabout way, she asked how he’d been doing. She mentioned not seeing him around lately and asked if he’d been sleeping elsewhere. Hoon brushed it off, saying he’d just been busy and crashing in different places.
“You’re not planning to move out, are you? If you are, you need to give me a heads-up.”
Because she had jumped to conclusions, Hoon ended up spending nearly half an hour explaining that no, he wasn’t moving out. And right after hanging up, he started messaging Bae Jung-yoon to fill him in.
Just as he finished typing and hit send, someone called out his name.
“Go Hoon-ssi.”
The familiar voice made him stop in his tracks.
“Huh?”
He looked up and let out a soft gasp without thinking.
Standing there was Woo Gun-hyung, dressed sharply in a tailored suit, just like always. He hadn’t expected to see him here. A place like this didn’t really suit someone like him. Blinking in surprise, Hoon stared as Gun-hyung smiled warmly, unfazed.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?”
“Yes, as you can see… Have you been well too, CEO?”
Hoon returned the greeting, matching his friendly tone.
“I’ve been doing fine, more or less.”
Gun-hyung offered the usual polite response.
“But… what brings you here?”
Why was he at Hankuk University? It wasn’t like he’d come all this way just to see Hoon. There had to be a reason. And just as expected—
“I’m giving a guest lecture today.”
“…You do guest lectures?”
He really didn’t slow down. Running a company was already more than enough to keep anyone busy, and now he was doing lectures too? Every time Hoon saw him, he discovered something new about the man. Always in a good way.
“I usually turn these down politely, but this time… I don’t know, I felt like taking the chance.”
Shrugging casually, Gun-hyung looked straight at him. Hoon held his gaze for a moment, then finally spoke.
“What kind of opportunity?”
“A chance to hold on to a connection that almost slipped away.”
His eyes never left Hoon’s, as if to make it absolutely clear who he meant.
There was no room for doubt this time. The sincerity in his voice, the seriousness in his expression—it was unmistakable.
Without warning, Go Hoon was reminded of the last time they’d spoken. Had Woo Gun-hyung overheard the conversation he had with Bae Jung-yoon that day? The thought made his ears burn with embarrassment.
Still, it had been an unexpected situation for both of them. Hoon wanted to apologize again, but didn’t know how to start.
“If you have time… would you like to grab a coffee?”
He hesitated before making the offer.
“I’d like that.”
Gun-hyung accepted without a second thought, as if he’d been waiting for the invitation.
Since neither of them had much time to spare, they didn’t go far. They grabbed coffee from a vending machine on campus and strolled up a quiet hill.
They sat side by side on a bench. Gun-hyung looked at him for a while, then curved his lips into a half-smile.
“Didn’t hear a word from you.”
His tone carried a hint of disappointment, though it didn’t sound like genuine reproach. There was something teasing in his expression. Hoon arched an eyebrow.
“That goes both ways, doesn’t it?”
“Our situations were very different.”
“How so?”
“It felt like I was getting involved with someone who already had someone else.”
It brought back the memory of their last call. Given the context, it was only natural for him to feel that way.
Hoon took a moment, choosing his words carefully.
“The truth is… I didn’t reach out because I felt guilty. I thought I’d caused you too much trouble.”
But that was just an excuse. If he was being honest—it was shame. He’d shown such an undignified side of himself. How could he casually reach out afterward, like nothing had happened? Even shame has its limits.
“I’m sorry. Truly. And if you overheard anything from that call… please, just forget it ever happened.”
He quickly added the last part. Gun-hyung looked at him in silence, his expression unreadable. Uncertain how to interpret it, Hoon scratched his brow and took a sip of coffee. After a moment of quiet, Gun-hyung spoke in a gentler tone.
“Just to be clear—are you seeing anyone right now?”
It was a little abrupt, and very much in character. Hoon let out a soft laugh.
Gun-hyung chuckled too, watching his reaction with amusement.
A partner, huh.
Hoon mulled it over for a second, then shook his head. It felt strange to define his relationship with Bae Jung-yoon that way. The line between them was still too blurry.
“No. I’m not.”
“Huh. That’s unexpected. I thought for sure you were.”
“Why?”
What made him so confident? Hoon couldn’t help asking. Gun-hyung answered right away, without hesitation.
“Because it didn’t look like that guy had no feelings for you.”
So that’s how it looked from the outside. But people are rarely what they seem. Just because it looked that way didn’t mean it was that way.
Honestly, Hoon didn’t know himself. What was Bae Jung-yoon thinking, continuing this strange connection? And what was Hoon hoping for by staying by his side?
As he sat there, unable to answer, Gun-hyung turned his eyes to the distance and murmured,
“Sounds like things between you two are more complicated than I thought.”
He was sharp. Hoon didn’t deny it—he simply nodded.
“They are.”
And that was all he said. He had nothing more to offer. Gun-hyung didn’t press. He just watched Hoon quietly for a moment, then smiled softly.
“Well, if life ever starts feeling dull—give me a call.”
He stood and extended a hand.
“Any message from you is always welcome.”
Hoon reached up and grasped his firm hand, standing up alongside him.
***
As soon as the hour-long lecture ended, Hoon headed straight back to the neighborhood where his apartment was.
“…Where did I put my key?”
Muttering to himself, he began digging through his bag. He was sure he’d put the key in the front pocket, but it wasn’t there. After rummaging through every corner, he finally found it wedged beneath his laptop sleeve. He pulled it out and unlocked the gate.
“Hey.”
A voice called out. Deep, commanding—like that of a dignified middle-aged man. At first, Hoon didn’t think it was meant for him. The voice was unfamiliar, so he assumed it was directed at someone nearby.
“Hey. You.”
The voice called again. But no one else responded.
That’s when Hoon realized—it was directed at him. He turned around.
There was no one there.
“…What the hell?”
He’d definitely heard it. Loud and clear. …Don’t tell me—it’s a ghost?
A chill crept down his back—when that same low voice spoke again.
“Look down. I’m right here.”
Startled, Hoon’s shoulders flinched. He quickly lowered his gaze toward the direction of the voice.
And there it was.
A black cat, sitting just one step in front of him.
The same cat he’d fed a few months ago—pitch black from head to tail.
