—Huh?!
It seemed Su-min’s voice had bled into the mic. Practically shrieking in reply, Hae-hyun’s voice came through sharp and fierce.
—You’re on campus, right? Stay there.
Then the call cut off.
Jae-ha stared at his phone in disbelief as the screen went dark, then immediately redialed. After a few rings, the line picked up again.
—…What now?
“Since when do you hang up like that? Are you trying to defy me?”
The voice that had been brimming with annoyance suddenly softened.
—That’s not it. It’s just… you always leave me out, sunbae.
“When did I ever leave you out?”
Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. It already stung enough that he couldn’t. The accusation was ridiculous. At Jae-ha’s retort, Hae-hyun protested.
—Then… can I come now?
“And if I said no, would you actually stay home?”
—……
As if. With a sigh, Jae-ha gave in.
His campus was already huge, but with the festival, it was practically a labyrinth. With so many people, the faint trace of his energy was all but lost. Even if Hae-hyun stormed in, the chance of him finding Jae-ha right away was next to nothing.
Still, he couldn’t just leave the kid wandering for hours. There was only one option.
“You’re at home, right? Call me when you get here.”
—What if you don’t pick up?
Why would he bother calling him out only to ignore him? He wasn’t that much of an asshole.
“Don’t say stupid things. Just be careful—it’s crowded.”
When the call ended, Su-min, who had been walking silently beside him, spoke up.
“That was him?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s exhausting. Doesn’t it get to you?”
Su-min’s brows furrowed slightly. The dislike was mutual; just as much as Hae-hyun hated Su-min, Su-min clearly hated him too.
The fact that they never once addressed each other by name said it all. Those two should never be left alone together. Stuck in the middle, Jae-ha made up his mind and was about to answer when—
“Um, are you in Business by any chance?”
Startled, he turned. Three girls were eyeing him curiously.
“It’s because of your sash. The Pride of Business, right?”
When he didn’t answer, they kindly explained further.
Ah, that. Jae-ha followed the girl’s gesture to the sash slung over his shoulder.
“Yeah. Once it gets dark, we’re running a bar over there. You should stop by.”
“Is the Pride of Business himself working there too?”
“I don’t exactly have the time for that.”
His casual reply drew light laughter. Still, since they’d shown interest, it felt petty to brush them off just because of his grudge against the sash. So, he added,
“But I promised to drop by later. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Wow, and if we see you, will you say hi?”
“Of course.”
Being friendly didn’t cost anything. After wrapping up the exchange and sending them off, Jae-ha noticed Su-min watching with a strangely serious expression.
“Hyung… are you a casanova or something?”
…casanova? Who even used that word anymore? Jae-ha blinked at him.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s just… girls crowd around you like crazy. It’s almost uncanny.”
“Well, that’s because I’m a Cheonrok, isn’t it?”
Funny—coming from the one who’d told him what he was in the first place. Even so, Su-min shook his head.
“No. A Cheonrok only makes people feel favorably toward you. It doesn’t guarantee that kind of… forward affection. This feels more like your own personal charm, Hyung.”
“…Thanks.”
Coming from Su-min, it almost sounded convincing. After all, wasn’t he the one who’d first approached because of the Cheonrok?
“And besides,” Su-min continued, “I think even if you weren’t a Cheonrok, it wouldn’t matter anymore.”
The words—so close to his own thoughts—caught Jae-ha off guard. Surely Imoogis didn’t read minds, right? While he was lost in that thought, Su-min went on.
“You really are a charming human.”
“Uh… yeah.”
“Even if you weren’t a Cheonrok, I’d still want to take you to the lake.”
“I’ll pass on that.”
The blunt refusal made Su-min chuckle. The faint smile softened his normally expressionless face, making him look even younger.
“I figured. That’s fine. I’ll just live outside the lake instead.”
This kid… unexpectedly poetic. The casual way he said it had a surprising weight to it.
Talking as they walked, they eventually found themselves back at the club booths. Compared to earlier, the place was buzzing, booths stretched endlessly like train cars behind the ping-pong club stand. Just as they were about to dive in, a familiar face appeared.
“Oh, Jae-ha hyung!”
From afar, Gyeong-jin came running, waving wildly. It had been ages since Jae-ha had seen him outside of SNS, and he was genuinely glad.
“Been a while. Enjoying the festival?”
“Yeah! I asked Ju Hae-hyun to come, but he ditched me, so I’m stuck wandering alone. He’s been acting busy as hell lately, it’s ridiculous.”
Gyeong-jin ranted, cursing Hae-hyun up and down. Well, he had said he was coming back to campus. At least they ran into each other before Hae-hyun arrived. Relieved, Jae-ha greeted him warmly.
“But hyung, you look amazing today. Can we take a picture together?”
His obsession with photos was so intense it was like he’d been possessed by a ghost who’d died desperate for pictures. But considering how curated his SNS feed was, it made sense.
With a nod, Jae-ha agreed, and Gyeong-jin lit up.
Adjusting his angle so the sash’s lettering wouldn’t show, Jae-ha smiled for the camera. The shutter clicked like ticking seconds.
Only after carefully sorting through and selecting a photo did Gyeong-jin finally wave and leave, looking satisfied. Once his noisy presence vanished, Jae-ha noticed Su-min standing blankly nearby.
“You want me to take one of you too?”
Without thinking, he raised the camera. The screen filled with Su-min’s puzzled face. Even as the shutter clicked, he looked as if he didn’t quite understand the point of it all.
“What’s the appeal?”
“It’s a memory.”
Even to him, it sounded like something an old man would say, but it fit.
He posted the photo with the caption [200-year-old baby] and showed Su-min, who eyed it with worry.
“Are you sure it’s okay to write my age like that? Doesn’t it look suspicious?”
“It’s fine. No one’s gonna believe it.”
At worst, people would think he’d meant to type twenty. And sure enough, the comments were all curiosity about who this was, no one questioning the “200.”
While at it, Jae-ha glanced through his feed and saw that Gyeong-jin had already posted their photo. Fast, as always. With a tap of the heart, he pocketed his phone.
“Shall we keep going?”
Just as they passed the darts booth and sat at the face-painting stand, Hae-hyun called again. Judging by the time, he must’ve sprinted the whole way.
“You’re already here?”
—Already? Where even are you, sunbae?
He couldn’t just get up after sitting down and paying, so he told Hae-hyun to come here and hung up.
Flipping through the colorful designs, he skipped the school ambassador ones and picked a simple whale. The booth worker dipped their brush and leaned close. Since they were short, Jae-ha bent slightly so they could reach his cheek. A cool touch spread across his skin.
After a while, the worker rinsed the brush and handed him a mirror. A whale floating in clouds stretched across his cheek.
“It really suits you.”
“Thanks.”
He bowed his head and glanced toward Su-min. Turned slightly away, but it looked like his was nearly done too.
Was Hae-hyun still coming? Stepping out to make room for the next guest, Jae-ha pulled out his phone—when a voice called to him.
“Sunbae.”
“Oh, you made it?”
Perfect timing. Amid the swaying crowd, Hae-hyun’s tall frame stuck out above the rest. Jae-ha waved, and he strode over.
“…What’s with the sash? And your cheek?”
Leaning close, Hae-hyun studied the whale painted on him, eyes wide with curious wonder like a child. Teasing, Jae-ha asked,
“How is it? Looks good on me, right?”
“Yes, it really—”
His soft reply cut off abruptly. Huh?
Puzzled, Jae-ha followed his gaze—and froze.
Su-min had just stepped out of the booth. As expected, they’d finished at the same time.
But what stopped him was the sight of the same whale painted on Su-min’s cheek.
