Just as Min Siheon’s back was rising and falling heavily, Kim Yu-joo took a step forward, trying to approach him.
At that moment, my heart dropped once again with a heavy thud.
“What exactly are you so dissatisfied about? Did I ask for something huge? Was asking for your number really that awful? Do you hate even having your name associated with mine?”
It seemed that the rumors about Kim Yu-joo liking Min Siheon were true after all.
At her sharp, almost biting words—ones that didn’t even sound like something between former lovers—a sigh of relief escaped me.
…Why am I relieved?
Self-loathing immediately surged up inside me. And along with it, disgust toward myself.
I told myself I’d treat him like a friend. Even if it took a long time, I said I’d smile and stay by his side.
The suffocating wave of emotion swelled into despair, and I lowered my head deeply, covering my eyes. That was when Min Siheon’s voice echoed in my ears.
“…Didn’t I tell you to get lost while I was still being nice?”
“W-What?”
His voice was cold beyond reason—icy. The kind of ruthless words that stabbed straight into the other person.
Why, at this moment, did I feel a burning heat boiling in my chest?
Min Siheon was clearly holding something back. The sound of him grinding his teeth, as if choking down his emotions, was proof enough.
Startled, I looked at him and saw his shoulders, swollen and tense.
He hadn’t exhaled the air filling his lungs; the veins standing out along his neck were unmistakable. Those protruding veins gave off a fierce, almost violent aura.
In that state, Min Siheon delivered his final warning to Kim Yu-joo.
“I won’t go easy on you just because you’re a woman.”
“…Ha, haha. Seriously, why am I humiliating myself like this?”
“You seem to know best how pathetic this looks. …Get lost. Right now.”
“…You’re the worst.”
What was that? Min Siheon’s blade-like condemnation flew straight at Kim Yu-joo.
At first, it seemed like she was enduring it somehow, but she, too, appeared to reach her limit.
She staggered, her heels grinding against the ground, then pressed a hand to her chest as if she were short of breath. Staring at Min Siheon, she let out a hollow laugh.
The composed and elegant demeanor she’d shown at the café was completely gone.
Her cheek twitched; she forced the corners of her mouth upward, but it seemed she couldn’t maintain it any longer, and her eyes lifted sharply instead.
For a final moment, Kim Yu-joo glared at Min Siheon with all her strength.
…It even looked like she might be crying a little. Perhaps her pride had been wounded—her eyes were red, brimming with tears.
As she turned around, her long hair whipped through the air.
Soon after, accompanied by the sharp clicking of her heels, Kim Yu-joo disappeared.
The scene had gone beyond savage—it was frightening. I turned my gaze to Min Siheon, left standing there alone.
He didn’t seem to care whether Kim Yu-joo had vanished or not; he was too busy staring at the phone in his hand.
He lifted his previously limp arm up in front of his face. After confirming the call had ended due to the long ringing tone, he pressed the button again.
On the dark screen of my phone, which had been black a moment ago, Min Siheon’s name reappeared.
Startled by his action, I instinctively leaned forward, staring only at him.
As his upper body turned naturally, I finally saw his face clearly.
…That’s Min Siheon?
It was an expression I had never seen before.
His long bangs fell down, covering his eyes, completely changing the impression he gave.
Compared to the face I’d seen in the lecture hall or in the department club room, the atmosphere around him felt far heavier and darker.
Over eyes that looked lifeless, as if no light could enter them, a murderous glint shimmered. When his gaze shifted, a flash of light flickered in them.
His pale—almost bluish—complexion, and the tension in his jaw from how hard he was clenching it, were so vivid I could feel it even from a distance.
The moment his free hand—not the one holding the phone—curled into a fist, I flinched without meaning to, my shoulders trembling.
If someone hadn’t told me it was Min Siheon, I might not have recognized him. It sounded exaggerated, but that was truly how I felt.
Breathing roughly, Min Siheon stared at the unanswered call, then dragged a hand through his hair. His broad chest made it obvious just how unstable his emotions were.
If I picked up now, he’d realize I was nearby. Even if I wanted to answer, I couldn’t. My hands trembled.
And now that I looked closely, it wasn’t just my hands. I didn’t know since when, but my whole body was shaking.
…I’m cold. A chill, impossible for this season, crept up my spine.
My body was drenched in sticky sweat, yet goosebumps covered my arms. I had to seriously question what was wrong with me.
For one thing, that wasn’t the Min Siheon I knew. The way his hair covered his eyes, the shadows cast over his darkened gaze, the burst blood vessels staining his eyes red—it was as if he were a different person.
Min Siheon, his face pale to the point of bluish, pulled up one corner of the lips that usually curved so prettily when he smiled—this time in an irritated twitch.
He looked down at his phone again, ground his teeth, and turned his body.
In the opposite direction from where Kim Yu-joo had disappeared—that is, toward the alley beside the building where my lecture hall was located.
…Don’t tell me he’s this angry because of me?
The thought that things had grown too big struck me.
Watching Min Siheon shrink into the distance until he became a mere dot and disappeared, I leaned my body against the vending machine.
Closing my eyes as dizziness swirled in my head, the unfamiliar face I had just seen imprinted itself onto my retinas.
“…How am I supposed to apologize for this?”
Honestly, more than fear, I was terrified of being hated by him. I felt like my heart would tear apart if, when we faced each other, he poured out even more hatred than he had at Kim Yu-joo.
[Min Siheon]
I stared at the phone in my hand. I didn’t even know how many times I’d called, but the ringing continued on and on.
I’m sorry, Min Siheon. So please, don’t hate me.
It seemed that unrequited love really wasn’t something you could survive on. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do right now other than sigh.
***
A few more days passed after that. It had already been several days since I started avoiding Min Siheon.
I wasn’t someone who was particularly timid. But I couldn’t easily muster the courage.
…If only I hadn’t seen that scene. The excessively cold expression on his face came back to me.
The worst part was that it replayed endlessly, like a nightmare.
“Should I call this lucky? Or unlucky?”
For classes we shared, I asked Yoo In-ho or Go Heemin—guys who knew the situation—to check attendance for me.
Recently, I’d heard that Min Siheon often scanned the lecture hall before attendance and then walked right back out.
So I kept entering the classroom only after he’d left.
For classes only I attended, I either hid myself just before roll call or asked for proxy attendance—whatever it took to avoid him.
“I can’t keep this up forever.”
After repeating this for several days, it was exhausting beyond words.
At this point, I even started thinking that maybe I should just face him—even if he ended up hating me.
Today, too, I barely finished one class and blended into the crowd of undergraduates. Mixed into the stream of people leaving, I walked down the hallway.
I hadn’t slept properly for days, so my hazy mind couldn’t think straight.
Maybe that was why—when I came to my senses, I found myself in a quiet corner of some building.
I must’ve walked here absentmindedly again. Turning my head, I checked the plaque outside a nearby lecture room.
It took me a while to make out the faint letters and figure out roughly where I was.
Just as I decided to leave the building and turned toward the exit—
At the very end of the hallway, I spotted a silhouette watching me. The distance made it hard to distinguish details, but I recognized instantly who it was.
…Min Siheon. Wearing the same savage expression I’d seen a few days ago.
At the same time, I felt as though our eyes had met.
“Ah.”
Min Siheon froze, as if he’d forgotten how to breathe, the arm that had been lifted—perhaps holding his phone—slowly lowering as he stood there, catching his breath.
It didn’t take long before he began walking. Step by step, his long legs picked up speed, closing the distance between us.
It was a season you could now call warm, yet I felt a chilling air.
Was it because of the face I’d seen that day? Without realizing it, I began stepping backward.
When I hesitantly retreated, Min Siheon noticed and stopped moving.
A tense silence hovered around us, and as if telling me to stay still, Min Siheon slowly fixed his gaze on me.
His bangs parted slightly, revealing his eyes, which burned with heat as they looked this way.
For a brief moment, he even seemed to return to the Min Siheon I knew.
He smiled gently and waved, beckoning me to come over….
But I noticed the difference from usual.
…His eyes weren’t smiling. Though his lips curved upward in a soft arc, his pupils were sunken and dark.
I felt as if I had become his prey.
Prey—what nonsense. Yet a fear like standing before a predator about to devour its meal washed over me.
Min Siheon inhaled, his ribcage expanding, and ran a hand through his hair.
At the same time, a chilling light flashed across his pale face.
A sharp instinct pierced through my entire body, and a red warning light went off in my head. …Run.
The moment I saw him lift his foot again, I turned and sprinted toward the opposite side of the building.
Why am I running this desperately? I don’t really know. But one thought overrode everything—I couldn’t let him catch me.
I still hadn’t properly apologized. After seeing him like that, I didn’t have the courage to face him.
Most of all, I couldn’t guarantee that I’d be able to endure being rejected.
Even if it ended at second worst, I couldn’t let it become the absolute worst. I had never wished for something so desperately.
Even if I had to face Min Siheon an hour from now, not like this.
The echo of footsteps inside the quiet building doubled. At first, he had been walking quickly, but walking nonetheless.
Now, from a distance, the sharp sound of heels striking the floor rang out as if he were running.
As the sound grew closer, the thought crossed my mind that I might get caught.
Before leaving the building, I needed to hide somewhere—anywhere. So I bolted up the stairs at the very end of the hallway, climbing to the next floor.
