Go Hoon leaned in close to the mirror, lips curled back as he examined his mouth. His eyes fixed intently on the spot where the sore had been.
The white, inflamed area had healed noticeably fast. Fresh skin had formed over the spot, smoothing out the mucous membrane so it no longer caught on his tongue.
He turned his head and glanced at the medicine bottle sitting on his desk.
“That stuff’s intense, but it works instantly.”
He’d only applied it once, and the sore had disappeared almost overnight. Sure, it hurt like hell going on, but the results were worth it. He figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to keep the medicine stored away for the next time one flared up.
He stepped out of the house in jeans and a lightweight crewneck sweatshirt—much lighter clothing than usual.
As soon as he opened the gate, a gust of wind swept past with a soft whooshing sound. The breeze was warm and gentle.
The air was noticeably milder than before. A clear sign that spring had fully arrived.
Walking past the campus courtyard bursting with colorful blooms, he headed toward the Business Administration building.
Taking the stairs up to the second floor, he was just about to enter the lecture hall when a familiar face caught his eye.
Standing near the door, shifting from foot to foot, was Kim Yeo-jin. Their eyes met.
She didn’t take this class. Was she waiting for someone else who did?
Puzzled, he kept walking, but she stepped forward and gave him a small bow.
“Hi, sunbae.”
“Oh. Hey.”
Go Hoon returned the greeting, his voice slightly stiff.
This was their first one-on-one encounter since that day.
He wasn’t sure what to say, and Yeo-jin seemed just as unsure, fidgeting in place.
“P-Please take this, sunbae….”
She suddenly extended something toward him with both hands.
Go Hoon looked down in surprise.
In her hands was a sweet drink filled with soft, white jelly chunks. The plastic bottle was wrapped in a pink label featuring a cute cartoon character.
He didn’t usually like sugary drinks. They always left a sticky aftertaste in his mouth.
Still, it felt rude to reject her kindness, so he accepted it with a slightly awkward smile.
“Thanks. I’ll drink it later.”
“…Okay.”
She briefly looked up, and when their eyes met, she flinched and quickly dropped her gaze.
Not noticing the subtle shift in her demeanor, Go Hoon scratched the back of his neck and changed the subject.
“Don’t you have class right now?”
“Yeah. I have a 9 a.m.”
“Right. Then head in and focus.”
“You too, sunbae. Fighting…!”
After hesitating for a moment, she clenched her fist and cheered him on, flashing a shy smile before turning around.
Go Hoon quietly watched her retreating figure.
A moment later, he let out a heavy sigh.
“…‘Focus’? Really?”
He sounded like some out-of-touch old man. Moments like this made him resent how awkward he was with words.
Still, it was a relief to see her looking okay. He’d worried she might be stewing in sadness alone.
He’d wanted to talk to her, but it didn’t seem like she’d welcome it, so he’d stayed frozen. The fact that she approached first gave him a small sense of relief.
“What’s that?”
A sudden weight on his shoulder, followed by a low voice near his ear, broke his thoughts.
He turned his head without thinking.
Leaning on him and peering down at the pink drink in his hand was Bae Jung-yoon.
Startled to see him so close, Go Hoon instinctively stepped back.
Bae Jung-yoon remained where he was, calmly meeting his gaze.
“A drink? I thought you didn’t like sweet stuff.”
His voice was calm, but the words made the drink in Go Hoon’s hand feel weirdly heavier.
“…Just wanted to try it.”
The words slipped out automatically—he hadn’t really thought it through.
Jung-yoon studied the bottle for a moment, then suddenly reached out.
“Perfect. I was thirsty anyway.”
Before Go Hoon could react, he snatched the drink, twisted the cap off, and took a long swig—pressing his lips directly to the bottle.
“Hey, that’s mine! Why are you drinking it?”
Snapping out of it, Go Hoon frowned and protested, but Jung-yoon didn’t seem to care.
After swallowing a few gulps, he handed the bottle back with a content expression.
“Here. Now it’s your turn.”
A third of the drink was already gone.
Even with Go Hoon glaring at him in disbelief, Jung-yoon casually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand like nothing happened.
“What? Why aren’t you drinking it?”
The question came with the kind of shameless confidence only he could pull off.
“You literally just put your mouth on it.”
“What’s the big deal, Hoon-ah? It’s not like we have any boundaries between us.”
Was he seriously saying that right now?
Go Hoon gave him a deadpan stare.
Bae Jung-yoon just grinned, smug as ever.
“Well, if you’re really bothered, why don’t you give me that one and I’ll buy you a new one? We can stop by the convenience store after lunch.”
The playful smile on his face, that easygoing tone—it drained away any urge Go Hoon had to argue.
“Forget it. Just drink the whole damn thing.”
Shoving the bottle against Jung-yoon’s chest with a rough hand, Go Hoon shook his head in disbelief and headed into the lecture hall.
Still, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
***
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[Hoon-ah]
Now
Business Major Bae Jung-yoon
[Whatcha doing?]
Now
A pair of pointless messages blinked across the top of his phone screen before disappearing.
Bae Jung-yoon.
The moment his name popped up, Go Hoon’s eyes flicked toward the message on instinct, quickly scanning it— but he didn’t have the time to reply.
Tonight, at 7 p.m., was the friendly match between South Korea and Japan.
Which meant: higher demand for delivery orders. Which also meant: surge pricing.
Korea vs. Japan. That matchup alone was enough to reignite even the weakest spark of national pride. No way people were skipping it—and no way Go Hoon was passing up the money.
National pride, it seemed, had a direct line to fried chicken.
Chuckling to himself at the thought, Go Hoon selected his next delivery.
Days like this were a gold mine. The payments piling up in his app felt like proof of Korea’s Red Devil spirit. And with every order he completed, the heavy fatigue that had weighed on his body for days seemed to lighten just a bit.
Naturally, Jung-yoon’s texts drifted right out of his head.
No time to sit around overthinking—time to move.
Fighting, he shouted to himself silently as he started pedaling hard.
Cool wind hit his face from the speed of the bike, but under the warming spring air and the insulated delivery bag on his back, sweat was already soaking through.
He arrived at his next stop and got off the bike, sliding his helmet off and tucking it under one arm.
With a rough shake of his head, he tried to fluff his sweat-flattened hair, but it just stuck out in all directions.
Still panting, Go Hoon looked up at the officetel in front of him and scowled.
“…Why here, of all places.”
No wonder the address looked familiar.
What were the odds? The delivery was to Bae Jung-yoon’s apartment.
This was entirely on him. He should’ve double-checked before accepting the job. But he’d been too focused on catching the surge orders while they were hot—and made a dumb mistake.
That guy barely even ordered chicken. What, was he swept up in the match too?
At least it wasn’t a pay-on-delivery order.
Running into Jung-yoon wasn’t the end of the world, but… Go Hoon didn’t want to.
Especially not looking like this.
Frowning, he flapped his soaked shirt away from his skin, trying to air it out. His feet felt like they were stuck in cement, but he forced himself to move toward the building.
He wiped his palms off on his pants, then punched in the unit number on the building’s intercom.
While the bell rang, he subtly turned his face to the side, avoiding the camera.
What am I even doing?
He’d never once been ashamed of working delivery, but suddenly his ears were burning.
Why?
Even as his thoughts spun, the glass door quietly slid open. His legs moved without hesitation.
He stepped into the elevator, nerves slowly creeping in as he watched the numbers climb.
The elevator reached the designated floor with a chime, and the doors slid open.
He hesitated.
But the food couldn’t sit too long. He wasn’t about to risk a refund because he couldn’t drop off a damn order.
Go Hoon softened his footsteps, carefully set the food bag in front of the door, and wiped his sweaty hand on his pants before pressing the doorbell.
The chime echoed. He turned quickly, trying to walk away before anyone came to the door.
But after just a few steps—
“Oh, right. The photo.”
He almost forgot.
He pulled out his phone and quickly snapped a picture.
Click.
And at that exact moment—
The door flung open.
Go Hoon froze, still crouched in that awkward pose. His heart dropped.
He slowly lifted his eyes—But it wasn’t Bae Jung-yoon.
“…Oh.”
The sound slipped out before he could stop it.
Who was this? Did Jung-yoon move out?
Confusion swirled in his head. But then, the woman’s eyes went wide as she pointed at him in surprise.
“Wait—aren’t you Go Hoon?”
She clearly knew his name.
