Hae-hyun’s eyelids lifted and lowered slowly. There was no mistaking it—he’d recognized Jae-ha.
Jae-ha froze. He hadn’t thought he’d be caught so quickly. Should he say hello? Even a simple wave felt unbearably awkward. Stuck in that in-between, he could only stare blankly at Hae-hyun.
But then Hae-hyun turned his head.
He had clearly seen him, yet there was no trace of surprise, no hint of warmth—just the indifferent reaction one might give a stranger passing by. As if nothing had happened, he picked up the ladle and stirred the pot. Someone beside him said something; he turned slightly, replied in a few clipped words, and went right back to cooking, his face unreadable.
That was it.
“Oppa, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”
“Hyung, should we grab you something for the hangover?”
In the middle of that jarring moment, only Jae-ha stood frozen in place. He stared at Hae-hyun as if nailed to the floor, but Hae-hyun never looked his way again.
“Oppa?”
What… just happened? His brain had stalled, unable to process, looping the same dazed question over and over.
Never once, in all the time they’d known each other, had Hae-hyun ignored him. Even when Jae-ha had misunderstood and lashed out, Hae-hyun had tried to calm him—never turned a blind eye.
Did I do something wrong?
Up until he returned from Seo-cheon, until the day he left Jae-ha’s house, Hae-hyun had been the same person he knew. So what could have changed afterward…?
“……”
A heavy drop sank through his chest. He’d made a mistake—he’d been far too naive.
Hae-hyun was someone who held feelings of love sacred, who’d stayed pure and honest to the point of never dating. There was no way someone like that could carry on as if nothing happened after being confessed to so directly—especially if he had no intention of returning those feelings.
Silence was its own answer. Not checking his messages, refusing to meet his eyes now—every bit of it was deliberate.
Hae-hyun had already replied. Jae-ha had just been slow to recognize it, because it was his first time ever facing this kind of rejection.
It was, without doubt, a complete refusal.
***
The hangover was vicious.
The moment Jae-ha opened his eyes, a sharp headache split through his skull, making him wince. A low, ragged groan slipped from his lips.
“Ahhh…”
He rolled over with a sluggish groan and realized he was on his bed, still in yesterday’s clothes. The blanket beneath him was only slightly rumpled.
It was already noon. He must have collapsed the moment he got home at dawn, only now waking up. He had drunk so much that even the end of the night was a blur.
He remembered wandering aimlessly across campus, half out of it—not even noticing when the people trailing him had dropped away. When he drifted back to the department bar, they were cleaning up and preparing for the afterparty, so he joined in. His classmates asked if he was okay but still welcomed him readily.
And he drank without stopping.
All night, his glass was hardly ever empty. He’d down it in one go and shove it forward for more, until even the ones pouring grew worried and tried to stop him. Even Cheong-hee and Hyung-jun, who had known him since freshman year, were stunned—they’d never seen him drink like this.
Of course, chugging like that meant he got drunk fast, even with his tolerance. Thanks to that, he managed to get completely wasted in just a couple of hours.
His trip home was fractured, full of missing pieces. He tried to piece it together, but every attempt brought the migraine crashing back. He vaguely remembered brushing off people trying to hold him back, walking alone, maybe hearing someone call to him… The memories were fuzzy, dreamlike.
Then suddenly, one scene surfaced sharply: the warmth and softness pressed beneath his palm.
“Hae-hyun, now…”
And his own drowsy, slurred voice.
“…Huh?”
Jae-ha shot upright before he realized it. For that moment, he forgot both the pounding headache and the nausea. His wide eyes darted around, scanning every corner of his bedroom and the living room beyond.
But nowhere was there a familiar golden-brown dog.
Only tossed socks, his wallet on the floor, and his phone. With a heavy thump, he fell back onto the bed. The only traces here were his own. Realizing he had panicked for nothing, he gave a short, bitter laugh. Right, no way.
As if Ju Hae-hyun would turn into a dog and wait outside his apartment.
He must have pet some random dog on the street, or just dreamed the whole thing. Besides, he’d gotten home so late. How could Hae-hyun have known when he’d arrive, let alone waited outside? He would’ve been busy all night, working after being dragged to the bar.
If he’d had that kind of devotion… he wouldn’t have ignored me like that.
Damn it, there it was again. Jae-ha cursed under his breath. All through last night, he kept replaying the image of Hae-hyun deliberately turning his gaze away. If only he could’ve blacked that out instead of the walk home.
Maybe he really did need another drink. To be dwelling on this even through the fog of a hangover… heartbreak was merciless. Gripping his aching head, Jae-ha rolled onto his side. Only then did the solitude of the bed truly sink in.
Now that he thought about it, this was the first time he’d slept alone since Hae-hyun left. Not that he remembered lying down last night anyway. The bed was comfortable enough, but it didn’t feel good. He could’ve sworn he’d thought this before, sometime. He tried to recall, but quickly gave up—it was too much effort.
Kind of chilly too… Maybe he’d gotten too used to having someone else there, running the heater less. Or maybe it was just winter creeping in. Still in his clothes, Jae-ha muttered irritably. It would take him a few days to adjust to the emptiness beside him.
…Hopefully only a few days. Muttering that half-joke of a wish to himself, Jae-ha forced himself up. If he wanted to make it to class, he had to shower now. At least he could skip breakfast—his stomach was still a mess.
The classroom was sparse, likely thanks to the aftermath of the festival.
Dropping his bag in his usual seat, Jae-ha glanced around. Even accounting for the early hour, the room was nearly empty. Most must’ve passed out after drinking all night.
Well, who else but Ji-hyang, the Poison Spirit, would drag herself here despite a hangover, doggedly protecting her attendance? If this hadn’t been a class he couldn’t skip, Jae-ha would’ve stayed home too.
“Hyung, can I sit here?”
That was the real reason he’d dragged himself to class—the chance to check on Su-min after their messy parting in the Celestial Realm.
The last time he’d seen Im Su-min was right before leaving for Seo-cheon with Hae-hyun and Cheonrok. Surrounded by the guests at Myeongheoseong, Su-min had stared at him in shock—that was the final image he remembered. Of course, nothing terrible would happen to the heir of the Hwang-ryong Palace. But since Su-min hadn’t returned to Seo-cheon or the human realm with them, it was only natural for Jae-ha to worry. Seeing him safe here in class, it seemed he had managed to avoid the Yellow Dragon’s notice after all.
“Yeah.”
Jae-ha moved his bag aside, and Su-min quickly slid into the seat as if he’d been waiting. Outwardly, he looked perfectly normal.
“…So what happened? I was shocked when you suddenly showed up there.”
Su-min clearly had plenty of questions too. His usually flat gaze brimmed with curiosity as he put down his notes to ask.
“Well…”
Jae-ha gave him a condensed version of what he and Hae-hyun had gone through in Myeongheoseong. Su-min occasionally pulled faces of disbelief but listened closely.
“So that’s why Lord Yeomjeong caused such a scene.”
Su-min let out a long sigh. The clashes with Lord Tamlang, the disruption of the banquet—it all finally made sense.
“Lord Yeomjeong was summoned straight to the Heavenly Palace afterward. Even as one of the Fourteen Celestial Lords, trying to harm Cheonrok wasn’t something that could just be overlooked.”
And it had all happened in front of far too many guests. With the Cheonrok’s testimony, there was no room for excuses. Under the furious eye of the Heavenly Emperor, trial was held the very next day, and Lord Yeomjeong was sentenced to probation.
