That day, Sa-yoon couldn’t bring himself to say the rejection he had prepared. On the contrary, he even ended up conceding to a grace period.
“What the hell came over me?”
If anything, it was probably that damn holy-looking face.
Leaning back against his chair, Sa-yoon let out a low sigh. He had tried to refuse, but it wasn’t like he had agreed without thinking. Sure, the excuse was that it was his graduation project filming period, but who knew what would happen? At that age, one’s mind could change overnight.
[Whisper] Killer: I’ll match your available time, hyung.
[Whisper] Killer: I won’t even ask you to spare too much of it.
[Whisper] Killer: It really won’t take long.
[Whisper] Killer: If coming out to meet is too much, I can just go near your place.
Still going on about that. This time, instead of his custom setup, it seemed he’d latched onto the idea of an in-person meeting. The guy was persistent.
[Whisper] Killer: Hyung?
[Whisper] Killer: Where’d you go?
[Whisper] Killer: What are you doing here?
Judging by how he had already tracked him down and was now circling nearby, it was clear that words alone wouldn’t work on him. Whatever it was that Killer wanted to say, it would probably end up being something like “Meeting up was the whole point.” And if he gave in even once, the next thing he’d hear would be “Let’s meet again,” or “Let’s hang out.”
“…He’s exhausting.”
Ignoring the constant whispers flooding in, Sa-yoon sent Killer a party invite.
[‘Killer’ has joined the party.]
[Party] Chasa: Arena. Let’s go.
[Party] Chasa: One-on-one, winner gets their way.
[Party] Chasa: If you win, we set a date. If I win, we drop this entirely.
[Party] Chasa: Single round. Clean and simple.
[Party] Killer: Sounds good ><
If words wouldn’t work, there was no choice but to subdue him by force.
***
[Something wrong?]
Sa-yoon slid the tablet over to the side after writing the words. The other person swiftly picked up the stylus resting on top of it.
[d2eCo]
The response that came back was in some foreign language. It took him a while to decipher that it was meant to say “Nothing at all,” written with almost no effort. In fact, he had to guess two of the letters.
Glancing to the side at the worsening handwriting, he saw Sa Shin-jae sitting with his head lowered, not even sparing him a glance.
Sa-yoon had been worried from the moment he showed up in the lecture hall acting differently than usual, but now he was sure.
He’s sulking.
At a glance, he looked like just another student focused on class. But no—he was definitely sulking. His lower lip was slightly more jutted out than usual, and the corners of his eyes drooped just a bit more than they normally did.
Seeing it like this, Sa-yoon was certain now.
That day, he was actually really nervous, huh…?
He had already noticed from the way Shin-jae’s expression kept breaking during their conversation. But compared to then, today, Shin-jae truly looked upset. And Sa-yoon had a pretty good idea why.
“Shin-jae.”
“Pay attention to class.”
He called out in a hushed voice, but the response was curt. Feeling awkward, Sa-yoon turned his head back to face forward.
Eventually, the lecture ended without them exchanging another word. While students bustled out in a rush, Sa-yoon took his time gathering his things, then lifted his head.
Standing there, slinging his messenger bag over one shoulder, Shin-jae was waiting for him.
Considering how cold he had been all throughout class, Sa-yoon had expected him to storm off immediately.
“You’re not leaving?”
“Huh? Were we going together?”
When he feigned ignorance, Shin-jae’s face contorted in visible shock.
“You were planning to eat with someone else, hyung?”
His voice was laced with betrayal, and Sa-yoon let out a faint chuckle. Shin-jae was like crystal-clear water—look close enough, and you could see straight through him.
“I’m kidding. Of course, we’re going together. What do you want to eat?”
“Hyung, your personality is seriously the worst.”
“Mm? But you’re the one who said you liked it.”
Sa-yoon slung his bag over his shoulder and casually shot back. Just then, the figure standing beside him vanished from view. Lifting his head, he spotted Shin-jae already heading toward the exit.
His eyes locked onto the back of Shin-jae’s head, and sure enough, the tips of his ears were tinged red.
Ah, I should probably make it up to him.
The problem was, every time he pushed, Shin-jae just rolled with it exactly the way he wanted. Which only made Sa-yoon want to keep teasing him.
How the hell does a guy that big act so damn cute?
Grinning, Sa-yoon trailed after him.
“I’m not sulking.”
The moment they sat down at the restaurant, that was the first thing Shin-jae blurted out. Sa-yoon, who had been looking over the menu, lifted his head.
With that pouty face, he was denying it so stubbornly, yet he was the only one who didn’t seem to realize. Sa-yoon barely managed to suppress the laugh threatening to escape as he finished placing their order.
“Is it because I didn’t reply yesterday?”
There was only one reason he could think of. Yesterday, he had read Shin-jae’s message and left it on read. In fact, he had done the same thing the day before that. And the day before that. Three times in a row.
“Sorry, I was playing with Sesame and forgot.”
Sa-yoon was never the type to respond to messages quickly. If he had to reply to every single text, SNS mention, or DM, he’d have to be glued to his phone all day.
Between assignments, appointments, and gaming, replying to messages always got pushed down the priority list and was often forgotten. And if something was really urgent, people would just call him anyway.
Because of that, it was rare for him to keep up regular conversations with anyone. But old habits die hard—he had vanished mid-conversation for three days straight.
“Still, I do make an effort when it comes to your messages.”
He had even pinned their chat to the top of his messaging app. For someone like Sa-yoon, who was constantly accused of being “dead” in the family group chat, that was a pretty special treatment.
“That’s really… not the point.”
Of course, the one receiving that special treatment didn’t seem to realize it.
Unlike earlier in the lecture hall, where Shin-jae had been staring straight ahead, now that they were sitting face-to-face, his gaze was fixed on the side dishes.
Sa-yoon had thought all of Shin-jae’s baby fat was gone, but seeing that sulky expression now, maybe not.
“You look like a pufferfish when you do that.”
“…A pufferfish? You mean the fish?”
Only then did Shin-jae’s round eyes shift toward him, his expression one of utter disbelief.
“I’ve never been told that before.”
“Mmm, it’s a compliment. It means you look cute.”
“Don’t tease me.”
Even though it was meant as praise, Shin-jae’s expression remained twisted in mild distress. The look on his face was so genuinely shocked that Sa-yoon tilted his head, puzzled.
“I mean it, though. Isn’t a round, puffed-up pufferfish cute?”
“Aren’t they those creepy-looking deep-sea fish?”
“Nope.”
Sa-yoon pulled out his phone, searched for pufferfish, and switched to the image tab. He clicked on a tiny baby pufferfish, no bigger than a coin.
“Look at this.”
Even after seeing the picture, Shin-jae still didn’t look convinced.
Sa-yoon scrolled further down, looking for something even cuter. Among the rows of images, there were even pufferfish-shaped cakes.
“Huh, they make cakes of everything these days. This one’s cute.”
“You like things like that?”
“Uh… I mean, it’s cute, right? I’ve never tried one, though. Oh yeah, speaking of cakes—you uploaded the wrong profile picture the other day.”
As they reached that point in the conversation, a hot stone pot was placed in front of each of them. Steam rose from the heated bowls, distorting Shin-jae’s pufferfish-like face in the haze.
“I didn’t upload the wrong picture.”
“Huh?”
“I said, I didn’t upload the wrong one. That was the cake you bought for me.”
The unexpected remark caught Sa-yoon off guard, and his spoon halted mid-air. The sound of rice crackling as it stuck to the bottom of the stone pot filled the brief silence.
“So, I want to celebrate your birthday too.”
“Uh, um.”
“Your birthday’s next month.”
“How do you know that?”
“Messenger apps show it these days.”
Did the app really show birthdays a month in advance? Maybe the calendar had that feature… He wasn’t entirely sure.
What mattered more was that his entire birthday week was already booked. Not just the actual day, but the days before, after, and even the weekend—completely packed.
“Can’t I?”
Was there any plan he could cancel?
Sure, it’d probably piss someone off, but maybe he could rearrange at least one thing. It wasn’t like Shin-jae was asking to spend the whole day together. If Sa-yoon adjusted his schedule a little, it should be fine.
After a brief consideration, he gave a nod.
“Yeah, let’s do that.”
From there, the conversation turned to pointless chatter. Do I really look like a pufferfish? If you look closely, you’ll see it’s cute. Wanna see a sand nest made by a male pufferfish to attract a mate? Hyung, you have weird tastes sometimes.
That kind of thing.
Shin-jae ended up paying for the meal. He had grumbled the whole time, but when it came time to pay, he wouldn’t even let Sa-yoon near the register—like a warm iced Americano in human form.
“Hyung, are you gonna start replying to my messages properly now?”
“What, all of a sudden…?”
“I don’t really care.”
“Mm, sure. Want some coffee?”
Sa-yoon paid for coffee instead. They grabbed takeout cups from the budget café right next to the restaurant and stepped outside. Thanks to their quick meal, they had some free time before their next lecture.
As if it had been planned, they walked side by side across the campus.
“Hey, hyung,” Shin-jae suddenly spoke up. “What do you think about meeting people you got to know online in real life?”
