Would it have been better if he hadn’t met Louis that day at all? Then Actress Joo Mi-yeon, who’d failed to have her wish fulfilled, wouldn’t have ascended, and maybe Yi-hyeon could’ve stayed by Han Jun’s side as Louis the whole time.
Then the day of the accident came to mind.
A person dressed in black……
As Yi-hyeon mulled over the assailant’s words, he briefly wondered if it might’ve been a grim reaper who’d come to take her away because she couldn’t make it to the afterlife. But he shook his head, dismissing it as ridiculous.
Ha… I don’t know. This is suffocating.
His own future was pitch-black as it was, and worrying about Han Jun on top of that made Yi-hyeon feel like his head was about to explode. Just then, the class president approached him.
“Yoon Yi-hyeon. The homeroom teacher wants you in the faculty office.”
“Why?”
“Dunno.”
Yi-hyeon stood up and headed straight for the office. It wasn’t anything serious—he needed the orphanage director’s signature to receive support for the class picnic expenses.
While he was briefly going over things with the homeroom teacher, Yi-hyeon’s gaze drifted to the desk. Consent forms were stacked there, and the very top one belonged to Han Jun. Without meaning to, Yi-hyeon glanced at the guardian signature line and saw the name Joo Mi-jin.
If he’s going on the picnic, that means he’s not studying abroad, right?
Thank goodness.
A warm sense of relief settled over Yi-hyeon, and a small smile formed on his lips.
“Yoon Yi-hyeon, what are you doing? Go get the director’s signature on this.”
“Huh? Ah—yes, yes.”
Taking the paper with both hands, Yi-hyeon hurried back to the classroom. As he sat down, he stole a glance at Han Jun, who was casually drinking coffee from his tumbler like always.
Don’t go abroad—let’s graduate together, Han Jun. I’ll be a good friend to you.
Swallowing the words he couldn’t say, Yi-hyeon turned away, smacking his lips as if savoring the lingering sweetness of the caramel Han Jun had given him, and prepared for the next class.
***
Because the heat had arrived early, even with the windows open, not a single breeze stirred that afternoon. The students, grown sluggish, began grumbling that even P.E.—which they usually loved and only had once or twice a week—felt like too much effort.
“Hey, Yoon. You’re on P.E. duty today, right?”
“Oh—crap, I forgot!”
“The others already moved to the equipment shed, you know?”
Closing the workbook he’d been solving problems in, Yi-hyeon hurriedly changed into his gym clothes. Then he rushed toward the equipment shed. When he opened the door, the three students who’d arrived earlier were carrying high-jump hurdles and shot him an irritated look.
Yi-hyeon apologized right away.
“Sorry. I forgot I was on duty.”
“With a memory that bad, how do you even remember to come to school?”
“Sorry, sorry.”
They pointed in unison at a wide mat.
“You take that one.”
The high-jump mat was heavier and bulkier than regular mats, making it a bit much to carry alone. On top of that, it was wedged beneath several smaller mats, so it seemed impossible to pull out solo. Yi-hyeon looked back and forth between the mat and the duty students with a flustered expression.
“I don’t think I can move this by myself……”
“Wonseok’s on duty too, but he hasn’t shown up yet. You can move it together when he comes.”
“What if he doesn’t come?”
“Why are you asking us that?”
“Yoon Yi-hyeon, while you were late, we already went back and forth three times doing all the hard work, okay?”
“Ah…… yeah.”
Already irritated from the heat, the students muttered that he should stop talking to them and left the equipment shed in a huff. After hesitating, Yi-hyeon walked over to the pile of mats and gently tugged at the corner of the one underneath. At first it seemed to slide out fine—but then it snagged on another mat with a dull thunk, making the stack on top wobble.
“Oh—no!”
He quickly used his body to brace the tilting mats. That was when things turned critical. If he moved even a little, it felt like the whole stack would collapse. Unsure what to do, Yi-hyeon decided this wasn’t something he could handle alone and reached for one of the vaulting horse pieces nearby.
He barely managed to hook onto it and dragged it closer, using it as a support before scrambling away from the mats.
“I’ll have to do it together when Seo Wonseok comes.”
***
Yeah. Like Seo Wonseok’s ever going to show up.
Even as the worn clock on the equipment shed wall showed there were only five minutes left in class, Wonseok still hadn’t appeared, making Yi-hyeon click his tongue in disbelief.
After roughly arranging the mats on his own, Yi-hyeon finally hoisted the high-jump mat he’d set aside onto his back. It was far taller than he was, the top flopping over his head and blocking his view.
“Agh—seriously!”
Half out of stubbornness, half out of responsibility, he grunted and staggered his way out to the field.
Just then, Han Jun—twirling his newly bought tumbler around his finger as he walked—spotted the wobbling mat moving along by itself. He came closer, grinning as he spoke.
“I’ve seen flying magic carpets, but a mat walking around on its own? That’s a first.”
“……”
Yi-hyeon didn’t have the energy to respond.
“Haha, this is fascinating. Hi there, mat. I’m going to the field—where are you headed?”
Only after Han Jun bent at a perfect ninety-degree angle did he finally spot Yi-hyeon underneath the mat, face flushed bright red and sweat dripping down.
“So, mat—where’re you going?”
Han Jun asked again.
“D-don’t talk to me.”
Panting heavily from the strain, Yi-hyeon barely managed to reply.
“Huh? You’re not a mat—it’s Yoon Yi-hyeon. What’s going on? Did the mat ask you to carry it to the field?”
“If you’re not going to help, then just go. I’m—seriously—way too exhausted to deal with your jokes.”
Groaning as he hitched the slipping mat back up, Yi-hyeon struggled on.
“Are you the only one on P.E. duty?”
“No, I was l-late.”
“Oh. Like a penalty or something?”
“N-no, it’s not that. Wonseok’s on duty too, but he didn’t show up.”
Even as his body felt heavy enough to sink into the ground, he answered Han Jun’s questions dutifully.
“I see. Then… good luck.”
Han Jun’s face, smiling brightly beneath the mat, suddenly vanished.
Still carrying the mat, Yi-hyeon twisted his body this way and that, but Han Jun’s long, solid legs were nowhere to be seen.
But his scent’s still here.
“Han Jun, did you leave?”
“……”
“Did you seriously—ugh, this is so hard—did you really go?”
“……”
Han Jun disappeared, leaving only his scent behind.
Yi-hyeon was dumbfounded. Normally, if someone was staggering like this, barely able to keep themselves upright, wouldn’t you at least offer to help? Instead, Han Jun had rattled off nothing but teasing remarks, then fluttered away lighter than a butterfly chasing nectar.
He really just left like that?
“Wow…… that’s cold.”
“You talking about me?”
Han Jun’s face suddenly wriggled back out from beneath the mat. Startled, Yi-hyeon’s eyes went wide before he clenched his lower lip tightly. He’d been so exhausted that the words slipped out without thinking—and realizing Han Jun had heard them made him feel like he’d been caught talking behind someone’s back, leaving him embarrassed.
“I’m the cold-hearted one you were talking about, right?”
“Sorry for saying it like that. But usually, when someone’s s-so tired, helping them is the normal thing to do.”
“Oh. You needed help?”
“Of course……!”
“What do you mean, ‘of course’? You didn’t ask. How was I supposed to know whether you needed help or not?”
“If—if I ask, will you help?”
“Who knows. I’m a cold-hearted guy, remember?”
“I said I’m sorry for saying that.”
Han Jun grabbed the mat that was pressing down on Yi-hyeon’s body.
With a heavy thud, he dropped it onto the field, then rolled it up like a giant gimbap and slung it over his shoulder. Yi-hyeon had expected him to help—but the sudden, decisive movement caught him off guard, leaving him frozen in place, hesitating for a moment.
