[You have received a message.]
Despite the reading room being packed, it remained silent. Sa Shin-jae’s phone, which had been set to silent mode, lit up brightly, drawing his attention. As he picked up the device, facial recognition instantly unlocked it, revealing the message.
[Cha Sa-yoon] Shin-jae
Are you studying?
It wasn’t the message he had been waiting for. Not that it was likely to come in the first place.
As the brief flicker of anticipation deflated like a punctured balloon, another message quickly followed.
[Cha Sa-yoon] I saw it.
Lol
The timestamp trailed beside the message like a tail. A quick glance showed that more than thirty minutes had passed since Sa-yoon had left. He had said he was stepping out for a smoke—probably ran into someone he knew and got caught up in conversation again.
For someone who had been on a leave of absence for so long, how the hell did he still know people wherever he went? It wouldn’t even be an exaggeration to say that if Sa-yoon set foot in just three different places, he could probably connect with half the campus.
Shin-jae thought about himself in comparison. His relationship with his classmates was neither particularly good nor particularly bad. To be precise, it was distant. He exchanged polite greetings, attended department events when necessary, but that was about it.
The sheer size of his department meant there wasn’t much in the way of hierarchy or rigid seniority, making such detachment possible. That was part of the reason he had chosen it in the first place. So, seeing someone like Sa-yoon, who seemed to have acquaintances everywhere, was nothing short of fascinating.
[Cha Sa-yoon] Can you come to Lecture Hall B102 for a moment?
The new message arrived without any further explanation.
Sa-yoon was an unpredictable person. At times, he seemed meticulous; at others, indifferent. Sometimes, he appeared soft, yet in an instant, he could be sharp and decisive. And above all, he was inherently kind. Thinking back to the misunderstanding he had once had about him, Shin-jae still felt embarrassed.
He recalled the past few days of studying together in the library and the countless thanks Sa-yoon had received. People who had gotten past exam papers through him, those who had received study-abroad information, students grateful for his help with filming assignments… The list of people who had benefited from him was endless. Among them, there were even some of Shin-jae’s own classmates.
“Even picked up a stray kitten on a whim.”
Thanks to that, Shin-jae had ended up visiting Sa-yoon’s place. It had been years since he’d last gone to someone else’s home. The thought alone made his stomach turn. That day, he had barely managed to escape, resisting the never-ending temptation that radiated from the monitor.
Hopefully, he hadn’t found another abandoned kitten. And why a lecture hall, of all places? Despite his skepticism, Shin-jae got up from his seat.
When he stepped into the dimly lit classroom and pushed open the door, he once again found himself confronted with the ever-unpredictable Sa-yoon.
***
“Shin-jae, happy birthday!”
As the door opened, light spilled in, and Sa-yoon greeted him with those words.
Celebrating Shin-jae’s birthday had been a rather impulsive decision. Only after hastily pulling up a delivery app and ordering a slice of cake with candles did it occur to him that he might have gone a little overboard. To make matters worse, the store had thrown in a free candle—one shaped like a heart.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. This candle is just…”
If Shin-jae hadn’t known, maybe he could’ve ignored it. But now that he did, how was he supposed to just let it slide?
Feeling that trying to explain would only make things worse, Sa-yoon simply held out the small slice of cake instead. A silent gesture to blow out the candle. The flickering flame cast a long shadow across Shin-jae’s cheek.
Yet the supposed birthday boy remained silent, staring down at the cake without a word.
“Do you not like cake?”
Sa-yoon tilted his head, still holding up the carrot cake with both hands. Maybe he hated carrots?
It was the middle of exam season and a weekend at that. The cafés were packed with students swarming like locusts, making deliveries the only viable option. Given the available choices, this had been the best he could do.
“If you don’t like carrots—”
“…Why are you doing all this?”
At that, Sa-yoon’s expression twisted. This bastard… He misunderstood again.
“Hey, no matter how good-looking you are, not every person in the world is going to fa—”
“I’m not misunderstanding anything.”
“Huh?”
“Still… we’re not really close enough to be celebrating birthdays, are we?”
Hearing that, Sa-yoon nearly scoffed. This little shit—so I go through the trouble of doing this, and that’s his reaction? But instead of cursing, he glanced up at Shin-jae’s face—and promptly shut his mouth.
Oh? He’s embarrassed.
Beyond the flickering candle, Shin-jae’s pale cheeks were tinged with a faint blush. His eyes, locked onto the cake as if nailed in place, shimmered slightly. Looked like the surprise was a success.
That realization made Sa-yoon grin.
“What’s with the distinction? Who cares if we’re ‘that close’ or not? If you’re touched that hyung remembered your birthday, just say ‘thank you’ nicely.”
“…Thank you. Hyung.”
Sure enough, despite his earlier sharp words, Shin-jae nodded and muttered his thanks. The moment those words left his lips, a warm satisfaction bloomed in Sa-yoon’s chest. It felt like the same pride one might feel when a stray cat they’d been feeding finally rubbed against their leg.
“Good. Now hurry up and blow it out before the candle melts all over the cake.”
Shin-jae’s lips pursed slightly before he exhaled, blowing out the flame in one smooth breath. As the small gust of air tickled Sa-yoon’s fingers, the single source of light in the room was snuffed out.
Darkness instantly swallowed the lecture hall, so thick that even the nearest surroundings were impossible to see.
“Hey, can you turn on the light over there?”
“Yeah.”
Sa-yoon could vaguely sense Shin-jae moving in the dark, but the lights remained off. The lecture hall building had a notoriously weird layout, and the light switches were always placed in the most inconvenient spots. Shin-jae was probably fumbling around somewhere.
“The switch should be to your left, right behind the door… No, wait. I’ll do it. Stay where you are.”
With his arm outstretched, Sa-yoon took a few steps forward until his fingers met a cold wall. He ran his hand up along the surface, feeling his way until his fingertips brushed against the familiar edge of the aluminum switch. It was positioned roughly at chest level for a grown man around 180 cm tall.
Did the architect have no experience, or were they just trying to be avant-garde with their interior design? Grumbling to himself, he reached to press the switch—only to find another hand already there.
“Oh? You found it too.”
“…Yeah.”
Shin-jae’s voice was lower than usual, almost subdued. Had the darkness startled him? Shrugging it off, Sa-yoon pressed the switch between Shin-jae’s fingers.
Click.
The room flooded with bright light.
“…Oh.”
Now that he could see clearly, he realized just how close they were. Close enough that if he had exhaled just a little harder, his breath might have brushed Shin-jae’s lips. Another half-step forward, and he might’ve accidentally socked him in the gut as an unintended birthday punch.
Shin-jae was practically glued to the door, his posture screaming do not engage. It was painfully obvious that he was making a conscious effort to avoid any contact. Like a baby deer, all wide-eyed and wary. Clicking his tongue, Sa-yoon took a step back.
“If you were leaving early because of your birthday, you should’ve just told me. That’s kind of cold, don’t you think?”
“You already bought me dinner.”
“If you’d told me, I would’ve gotten you something better.”
“I liked the cafeteria food just fine.”
That had been earlier at lunch. Since it was exam season, they had decided not to bother going far and just grab a quick meal. Sa-yoon had casually suggested, “Cafeteria?” and Shin-jae had agreed without hesitation. It was convenient, close to the library, cheap and not exactly delicious, but it was edible enough.
Thinking about it now, maybe he had inadvertently shut down any chance for Shin-jae to bring it up himself. At least the cake had made up for it. Sa-yoon carefully placed the slice back into its paper box and handed it over neatly.
“That sucks, having exams on your birthday. Guess you’ll have to celebrate with your friends after they’re over.”
“It’s fine.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t really celebrate my birthday much. Just have a meal with my family, that’s about it.”
“For real?”
Wasn’t twenty supposed to be the age where birthday parties were stacked back-to-back for an entire week? At least, that had been the case for Sa-yoon. Judging by Shin-jae’s social media presence, he seemed like the type who would throw extravagant birthday bashes, so this was unexpected.
Not that it was a bad thing—at least he wouldn’t be failing his exams because of some party. Feeling oddly pleased by the thought, Sa-yoon flashed a grin and patted Shin-jae’s arm.
“Well then, have a nice dinner with your family—”
Sa-yoon’s words trailed off as a thought suddenly struck him.
Wasn’t Shin-jae’s mother in Busan earlier? He had seen both the article and the photo.
“Why’d you stop talking?”
“Just saying, even though it’s your birthday, you should still study a bit before you sleep. Exam’s tomorrow, after all.”
Maybe the article had been posted late, or maybe she had just gone down for the photo and come back up right after. It wasn’t worth overthinking. Instead, Sa-yoon chose to focus on making sure Shin-jae didn’t screw himself over. He knew he sounded like a total nag, but there was no helping it. At the very least, Shin-jae couldn’t afford to fail more than two classes this semester.
Shin-jae pulled a face like he had just swallowed a pill dry but still nodded. The fact that he was agreeing at all was good enough. Sa-yoon smiled, satisfied.
True to his word, after leaving the lecture hall, Shin-jae returned to the library to continue studying. He later texted that he was heading off to get dinner.
But the next day, Shin-jae never showed up for the exam.
***
“The person you are trying to reach is unavailable. You will be connected to voicemail after the beep. Beep—”
“The exam is starting. Student over there, put your phone away.”
Lost in thought, Sa-yoon hadn’t noticed the TA entering the room. He gave a small nod of acknowledgment, tucked his phone away, and turned his attention back to the lecture hall.
The room was filled with students shuffling their papers, creating a moment of brief commotion. As Sa-yoon scanned the space, he couldn’t find the face he was looking for.
Why isn’t he here?
While he was glancing around, an exam paper was placed in front of him. He accepted it, but his mind remained unsettled.
No matter how diligent someone was with attendance and assignments, if they skipped the exam, it all amounted to nothing.
