Chapter 10

Baek In-hyeok had plans today—to meet someone for a school gym uniform exchange—and Ryu Seon-jae, who had neither the intention to go with him nor wait around, left school first. As he walked downhill away from the school gates, the McDonald’s where the two had arranged to meet came into view. Standing at the crosswalk, Seon-jae stared fixedly at the golden arches. Realizing he was glaring at the sign for no good reason, he shook his head. “What the hell?” He ran a hand through his messy hair just as his phone buzzed. The light changed, and while crossing the street, he checked the incoming message. [Hey, why aren’t you in class?] It was from In-hyeok. Seon-jae held the phone in both hands and tapped his thumbs against the keypad. [I left early.] The reply came almost instantly. [We were supposed to meet so I could carry you off today!] Did I make plans with him? Right, I did. Thinking that, Seon-jae lifted his head and found himself facing the very McDonald’s he’d just been staring at earlier. “...Where the hell is my head at?” Letting out a dry laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, he turned to leave—only to spot a familiar figure walking toward him. Blue socks over black stockings, yellow duffle coat. “Uh...” Seon-jae’s eyes widened. If they ran into each other now, he’d look like the jerk who said he wouldn’t be part of the uniform deal, only to show up early and wait around at the meeting place. I'm Sol, who had been looking down at her phone, slowly raised her head. In a panic, Seon-jae shoved the McDonald’s glass door open and stepped inside. Only after he was in did it hit him—crap, I shouldn’t have come in here, you idiot. But it was too late. He glanced around and headed toward a corner. Slinging his bag onto the table, he hunched over to stay hidden. Then he paused. Why am I even hiding? I didn’t do anything wrong. Straightening slightly, he peeked out over his bag. Sol had taken a seat at a table near the entrance. Instinctively, Seon-jae ducked back behind his bag. There goes leaving. He sighed, palmed his forehead, and pulled out his phone. [In-hyeok, sell that thing fast and meet me at the arcade.] He could only hope their exchange would be quick and painless. But then Sol sat down with two full hamburger sets, and something about the vibe didn’t feel right. A moment later, another message popped up. [Change of plans. Grabbing burgers with “Carry Off Seon-jae.”] “The hell kind of secondhand deal ends with burgers?” Muttering under his breath, he flipped the phone face down on the table and lowered his head. Nervously fidgeting with his fingers, he peeked over at Sol. She stood, walked over to the condiment bar, and returned with four packets of ketchup. She didn’t touch her food, just sat quietly. Then she sneakily plucked three fries from the other set—the one not in front of her—and ate them. Probably In-hyeok’s. Seon-jae let out a snort. “Wonder if Seon-jae’s gonna show up,” she murmured. It was quiet, but maybe because it had his name in it, he heard her loud and clear. Sol looked down at the two burger sets again, then reached for her phone. “Should I ask if he’s coming?” Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, but then she set the phone down again. “He probably wouldn’t like it.” Her lips turned down ever so slightly. There was something wistful in her round eyes, and for some reason, it hit Seon-jae square in the chest. A strange girl who had shown up out of nowhere, claiming to be a fan. A girl who seemed to avoid him—either out of confusion or on purpose. A girl who now felt like she had dropped into his life from another world. There was just... something different about her. Sol tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and focused on her phone again. Her expression was intense. Seon-jae couldn’t take his eyes off her—at least until In-hyeok showed up. As soon as the bell rang signaling the end of the 8th period, Sol grabbed her bag and slipped out of the classroom. She ducked into the cram school near Jagam High and changed into a Jagam High gym uniform in the restroom next to the counseling office. The cramped space made changing a struggle, and despite the cold, sweat beaded down her back. Slipping her coat over one arm and slinging her bag over the other, she peeked outside. The bus stop was just beyond the cram school door. She’d hide inside until her bus arrived, then dash it. She checked the time on her phone. As long as she arrived before evening self-study started, she’d be fine. Her plan was simple—sneak into the classroom during dinner break, when it was empty, and slip a book into Seon-jae’s desk. The title? The 500 Unluckiest People Who Ever Lived. Would Seon-jae read it? Who knew. But she had nothing to lose. People always said reading nourished the soul. Maybe—just maybe—the book would stick in Seon-jae’s memory years from now. That small, fragile hope had guided her choice. Cradling her coat, Sol looked through the glass doors. The digital sign blinked: the bus was arriving soon. “Okay, let’s go! You’ve got this, I'm Sol!” Like a general heading into battle, she pushed through the doors and marched toward the stop. The moment I stepped through Jagam High’s school gate, a low baritone voice snagged my ankle. “Hey, you in the yellow coat.” Startled, I turned. A man in a brown corduroy jacket waved a wooden flute in the air, beckoning me over. “...Yes?” He clearly looked like a teacher, so I didn’t approach. I stayed still and replied cautiously. “Yes?” “Yes? Is that how you answer a teacher?” He pointed the flute at me, then jabbed it toward the ground at his feet. The message was clear—stand here. My heart was pounding. I wasn’t even a student here. And yet I was walking through the gate in a Jagam High gym uniform like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Move it!” the teacher shouted. I’m so dead. Pale-faced, I shuffled over. “Hall pass.” “Sorry?” “You had a hall pass to leave school, right?” He rested the flute on his shoulder and held out his hand. Apparently, this school required exit slips. I’d never been caught at the gate before, so I hadn’t known. “Well? Do you have one or not?” “......” Like I’d have that. I debated bolting. Just pretend you’re crazy and run. But before I could decide, the teacher tapped my shoulder with the flute. “Kid.” “Yes?” “You ditch school without a pass and then just stroll back in?” I had no response. I bowed my head in shame. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear Lim Jae-beom’s song <Confession> playing. What should I do, how should I make amends... “Go stand over there with your hands up.” “...Excuse me?” I blinked, sure I’d misheard. “You heard me. Hands up.” “M-Me?” I pointed to myself. “I’m... not a student here.” The teacher looked me up and down. I followed his gaze—my legs were clearly clad in Jagam High’s gym uniform. “You think I’m an idiot, huh?” Slowly, I lifted my head. The teacher was clacking the flute against his own palm like a threat. “Ah, fuck. Seriously.” The hood on my coat kept slipping forward, covering my face. I tried to push it back, but balancing was too hard, so I gave up. I was in a push-up position next to the school gate, palms and toes on the ground. The teacher had said he’d be walking around campus and would randomly check up on me—no slouching allowed. Saving Ryu Seon-jae is fucking exhausting. The pavement felt like it was embedding gravel in my palms. My arms were trembling. My butt kept sinking toward the ground. Maybe next time I’ll just write a fan letter and sneak it over the wall. “Aagh. When’s he coming back?” Just then, four feet approached. White sneakers. Yellow sneakers. “Isn’t this her bag?” “Pretty sure.” “And this mustard coat too.” “Yeah.” What...? I raised my head slightly. The hood slid further down, blocking my vision. I blinked in the darkness. Someone crouched in front of me. Looking down, I saw bent knees and yellow sneakers. The person in front reached out and pulled my hood back. “Yup, it’s her.” A boy with light brown hair looked me straight in the eyes. “...Uh, Baek In-hyeok?” I looked past him to the white sneakers. Seon-jae stood with both hands in his black puffer coat pockets, his cap pulled low, staring at me. “Kim Chun-baek.” He said, eyes wide with surprise. My arms were trembling like bridge pillars about to collapse. “What the hell are you doing at someone else’s school?” “Uh, what?” “Why are you doing push-ups at someone else’s school?” “I, uh, didn’t have a hall pass...” “A hall pass? From our school?” “...Yeah.” In-hyeok’s lips twitched. He looked like he was trying not to laugh. “Got caught coming in through the gate?” He asked with a grin. I nodded sheepishly. “Who caught you?” “Some guy with a flute...” “The discipline teacher?” “Maybe...?” Without a word, Seon-jae stepped forward and tugged the hood of my duffle coat. “Wait, hold on—” I had to lift my hands off the ground to stand. The gravel had left red marks on my palms. I brushed them off on my coat. “You idiot. The discipline teacher doesn’t even know what school you’re from. You could’ve just run.” I had thought of that—but in the moment, I just couldn’t. “‘Carry Off Seon-jae’ needs a full pass just to get in, and you couldn’t even get a hall pass?” In-hyeok burst out laughing. Seon-jae smacked his shoulder and said, “Let’s go.” “Hey, she came here to see you. You’re just gonna leave?” “She never said that.” “You never asked.” “Come on.” In-hyeok shrugged and followed. I watched them walk away. Seon-jae’s back, in his puffer coat and cap, looked cute. But every time that cute Seon-jae looked at me, he wore the same annoyed expression. Even in the past, that felt unfair. Seon-jae glanced back. Our eyes met. I must’ve looked like a creep staring at his back—he’d caught me. I flinched. He turned forward again and nudged In-hyeok’s arm. What was he saying, Yo, that girl’s staring at me like a psycho? They exchanged words, and then In-hyeok turned around and looked straight at me. Again, eye contact. He started waving and gesturing furiously. What? What’s he pointing at? I pointed at myself. “Me?” Then In-hyeok yelled in frustration: “Look behind you, dumbass!” What? I frowned and looked back. There he was—Mr. Flute, marching across the darkened field. “Who told you to stop, punk?!” His voice echoed across the field. No time to think. I grabbed my bag and ran. And for some reason, Seon-jae and In-hyeok ran too. Maybe they thought “Ten laps in duck-walk if caught!” applied to them, too. Seon-jae frowned and shouted, “Why are you running?! We didn’t even do anything!” “I don’t know! She ran toward us!” In-hyeok said, jerking his chin toward me. What do you expect me to do?! I came this way, I’m leaving this way! I spread my fingers and picked up speed. In-hyeok let out a laugh. “Yo, are you practicing for carrying Seon-jae off? Damn, you’re fast. Ryu Seon-jae, better watch out. If she actually does it, you’re screwed.” Keep talking and you’re dead. I shot him a glare and ran like my life depended on it. Once we were far enough from school, Seon-jae and In-hyeok slowed down. “Hey, stop running!” In-hyeok shouted from behind. But I didn’t stop. What’s the point? It’s not like we’re gonna walk together like friends. I finally came to a halt at an intersection, gasping for breath. Turning around, I saw them in the distance. I waited for the light to change, fidgeting with my fingers. It felt like the red light would never turn green. I peeked back. Somehow, the two who had been far away were now almost right behind me. My leg bounced anxiously. Please, oh signal god, grant me a green light now. Just then, someone stepped up beside me. “‘Carry Off Seon-jae.’ We meet again.” Baek In-hyeok gave a sly smile. Seon-jae's gaze stayed fixed on the traffic light. As he stood there dawdling, he shifted his backpack to the front, unzipped it, and took out a book he had brought. It was titled The 500 Unluckiest People Who Ever Died, a compilation of absurd death cases. Just as he was about to hand the book to Seon-jae, the signal turned green. “Huh?” As he held the book out, Seon-jae stepped forward. In-hyeok gestured with his eyes for Sol to catch up quickly. What godawful timing. She hurriedly fell into step beside Seon-jae. “Ryu Seon-jae.” Seon-jae, hands shoved deep into his pockets, turned to her with a questioning glance. “What?” “Here.” She held out the book. Seon-jae looked down and skimmed the back cover. Unable to show him the title outright, she handed it over face down. “What is this?” “It’s, uh, it’s just...” As he stared at the book, his eyes slowly lifted to hers. Their gazes locked, and the strange tension made her mind go blank. “A tribute.” “What?” Even she cringed at her own words. She shoved the book into his side. “Just read it, okay!” Seon-jae, caught off guard, ended up accepting the book and gave her a baffled look. Sol turned and sprinted off. Behind her, Baek In-hyeok burst out laughing. He must’ve seen the title. Her legs pumped fast, but her face contorted into a grimace. Wearing a stretched-out old tee, she tiptoed into the kitchen. The lights were off, but she found the fridge by feeling along the wall. She opened it, revealing three cans of beer shoved in a corner. A small smile tugged at her lips. She couldn’t stop thinking about the ridiculous mess she’d caused today, and especially the face of Seon-jae when she got caught doing push-ups by the school gate. The more she thought about it, the more depressed she became. Booze was the best cure for that kind of gloom. Of course, she couldn’t legally buy any, so the only thing she could rely on was whatever her mom had stashed away in the fridge. She snuck one can out and slipped back into her room. With a careful pop of the tab, she took a long gulp. “Pwah.” The carbonation hit just right, and a crooked grin crept onto her face. Grabbing a pen, she walked over to her calendar and slashed a line through today’s date. Another day had flown by. Back then, every day had felt like hell. But now, living it all over again with a different heart, it felt... strange. Sitting on her bed, she put in her earphones and turned on her MP3 player. She hit play on Naul’s “The Memory of the Wind.” It was Seon-jae’s favorite song. He’d hum a line or two on the radio from time to time, but the only full version was from his high school festival performance—a video so ruined by the person filming mumbling throughout that it was barely listenable. She sipped her beer again, then slapped her knee. “Holy crap.” If she remembered correctly, Jagam High’s festival was in December. That meant—she could hear Seon-jae sing live. She gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth just as her phone vibrated. Her eyes widened before her lips even closed. Her heart plummeted in her chest. [Thanks for the gift.] She stared at the message, blinking. The word thanks—it was there, clear as day. No way. She checked the sender’s number, skimmed their previous messages. [Subtract it from the uniform payment. Let’s eat. I want a Shanghai Spicy Chicken Burger.] [I’m In-hyeok. I didn’t have your number, so I used Seon-jae’s phone.] [LOL, but Seon-jae’s name for you in his contacts is hilarious.] [Wai,t what? What’d he save me as?] [Professional-Refunder Kim Chun-baek LOLLLLL] Yep. It was Seon-jae’s number. Had he actually read the book? She’d highlighted the case where someone died of shock from combining medications in yellow. Had he seen that? She didn’t know what to reply. She hesitated. Then another message came. [My dad said let him know when volume two comes out.] She blinked at the screen. Dad said... Dad... Dad? She repeated the word three times before it sank in. So Seon-jae’s dad had read the book. Not Seon-jae. Ryu Geun-deok, founder of Ryu Geun-deok Gamjatang. Well, at least the book hadn’t been tossed out. That was something, right? She moved her fingers and replied. [Thanks for keeping it. You should read it too!] Even if it was his dad who read it, just the message saying “thanks” made her heart flutter. She took another sip of beer, smiling like a goof. She’d buy him another book. Definitely. Staring at Sol’s message, Seon-jae placed his phone on the desk. He leaned far back in his chair, head tilted toward the ceiling. After a few spins, he straightened up and looked at the book still sitting on his desk. The 500 Unluckiest People Who Ever Died. He tapped the hardcover with his finger, then opened to the page she’d marked. Out of the whole book, only one page—page 168—had been underlined with a highlighter. “Death by shock.” He dug into his bag, pulled out a folded letter, and opened it. This letter is from the future. You must believe and act on the contents. That’s how it began. Sol had written it as if she herself suffered from insomnia, warning him of things to avoid. But he’d never had insomnia. Never even mentioned having trouble sleeping. So why had Im Sol suddenly shown up, delivering these strange warnings? Chin in one hand, he skimmed the sentences with the other until his finger stopped at one: If there’s a friend beside you who’s over 180 cm tall and resembles a cat, stay away from him. He tapped the word cat. “Pretty sure that’s about Baek In-hyeok.” His phone buzzed. He put down the letter and checked it. [Is the book any good? LOL] In-hyeok. Sprawled on the bed, Seon-jae typed back with both hands raised above him. [Wouldn’t know. Didn’t read it.] [Yeah, right. If you didn’t want it, you should’ve just given it back.] [Go to sleep.] [I’m going. But isn’t that girl super weird? Still cracking up at the push-up thing LOLLLLL] Seon-jae thought to himself: What’s so funny about that? But still let out a soft laugh. Then, realizing he was smiling, he straightened his expression. [Not weird. Ridiculous. I’m going to sleep.] [You’re quick to crash. Sweet dreams of “Carry Off Seon-jae.”] I am Ryu Seon-jae, so who’s carrying who... he thought, plugging in his phone before lying back down. He stared at the ceiling. I'mm Sol.” Just saying her name brought memories. The girl who showed up one day, crying, calling him by name. The girl who later apologized with tears, swearing she wouldn’t show up again. The girl who, after that, acted like they were strangers. He’d found her weird, that day at Ryu Geun-deok Gamjatang when she asked about the letter he’d found in his drawer—then suddenly ran out. Feeling unsettled, he’d chased after her. When he caught sight of her walking ahead, he’d called out and she’d turned, looking so sad. Their eyes met—then she burst into tears. Seon-jae had always been weak to people crying. But watching Sol bawl made him feel like he’d done something terribly wrong. Even after she disappeared, he stood there like a stone. Eventually, he ran in the direction she had gone. And sure enough, he found her sitting on a bench. He almost approached—but then she buried her face in her knees and sobbed, Ryu Seon-jae... He stopped short. Instead, he pulled out his phone and typed a message. [Sorry if I upset you.] He hovered over the send button, glanced back at her. She was wiping her face with her sleeve and standing up to leave. She’d cried so hard before, but now looked better. She must’ve been upset, but he wasn’t sure he felt sorry. He closed the message window and put the phone back in his pocket. She stopped walking and looked up at the building. It was the headquarters of 66 Entertainment. Yesterday, she had impulsively tried sneaking into Jagam High again—only to find Mr. Flute guarding the gate like a hawk. She ran like hell. Clearly, breaking into school was off the table for a while. Time to change plans. She swung her bag around, unzipped it, and took out a new book. Smart Medicine: What to Mix, What to Avoid It was an easy-to-read guide about safe and unsafe medication combinations. The author hosted two regular medical shows—his face was even printed on the book’s promotional sleeve. She hoped Seon-jae would see it and take it seriously. As she lingered outside the company, a short boy approached, slurping from a milk carton through a straw. No way. Seo Yun-jae. She couldn’t help but smile. The youngest member of Potato Pancakes and, until recently, the only underage one—though now, in the new year, he was legally an adult. Seo Yun-jae had a reputation: the group’s behind-the-scenes power. Once he entered high school, he started openly roasting his older members on air. Fans called him the “padlock-less tweeting bird” because he loved sharing secrets and inside jokes. His favorite target? Seon-jae. He teased Seon-jae mercilessly just to see his reactions. And here he was—shorter than her, red-cheeked and red-nosed from the cold. Cute little punk. Seo Yun-jae noticed her laughing and looked puzzled, still sipping his milk. “You a trainee here?” “Yeah, so?” He looked her up and down like, Who the hell are you, and why are you talking to me? “Who’s the best-looking trainee here?” “Hmm...” He tilted his head, eyes drifting upward in thought. “In-hyeok hyung?” “What? No! It’s Ryu Seon-jae, not Baek In-hyeok!” “Oh... is it?” “Repeat after me. ‘Ryu Seon-jae is our hope.’” “...What?” He frowned. “Come on, say it. ‘Ryu Seon-jae is our hope.’” “Ryu Seon-jae is our—ugh, why do I have to say this?” “Just remember it. If Seon-jae’s name doesn’t show up on the debut list, yell that in front of Kang Geun-soo: ‘Ryu Seon-jae is the hope of this group!’” At the mention of the company CEO’s name, Seo Yun-jae’s eyes widened. “Here. Take this.” She handed him the book. “What is it?” “Give it to Seon-jae for me.” He stared at the cover, then up at her. “Top maknae Seo Yun-jae. I’m counting on you.” She pumped her fists in encouragement. He was so cute she wanted to pat his head, but she restrained herself. Back in high school, he’d hit a growth spurt—and maybe it was all thanks to the milk he slurped even in winter. As she turned to leave, she heard him mutter, “How’d she know my name...?” Because I’m from the future, duh. “Hey! Seo Yun-jae!” “Huh? In-hyeok hyung!” She froze mid-step. He just said, “In-hyeok hyung.” She heard him whisper, “Hyung, that girl—” No time to look back. She bolted. “So this is how my dream of joining the fandom hall of fame goes up in flames.” Gritting her teeth, she ran harder. She had already delivered three books to Seon-jae through Seo Yun-jae. Smart Medicine, It's Okay to Have Insomnia, and On the Dangers of Sleeping Pills. The second time she visited, Seo Yun-jae had frowned and asked, “Wait, but who are you, noona?” When she answered, “I’m a fan of Seon-jae. Just bringing him offerings, he’d looked very displeased—but still accepted the book. But a few days later, when she showed up with the third book, he suddenly pulled out his phone and called Seon-jae, catching her off guard. “Hey, why are you calling Seon-jae?!” Seo Yun-jae replied bluntly, “He told me not to take anything from you anymore. And if I ran into you again, I to bring you in. But how am I supposed to drag someone taller than me? I gotta call for backup.” She hastily shoved the book into Seo Yun-jae’s side and yelled, “This is the last one, I swear!” before fleeing. And yet, here she was again—crouching beside the 66 Entertainment building, another book in hand. Today’s title: Everyone Loves You. “Oh—Seo Yun-jae.” Their eyes met as he walked along, sipping milk from a carton. She peeked her head out from behind the building and waved. Seo Yun-jae frowned hard, straw still in his mouth. She ran up to him. “Hey.” She smiled sweetly as she greeted him. Seo Yun-jae looked up at her with a sullen face. “You’re Kim Chun-baek noona, right?” “...Huh?” “Your name. Seon-jae Hyung told me. You’re Kim Chun-baek.” “Oh... He said that?” Seo Yun-jae nodded. She could just imagine the expression Seon-jae must’ve worn when he told Yun-jae about her—completely annoyed, saying things like She says her name’s Kim Chun-baek. Doesn’t even know how to answer a phone. If you see her near the company, just ignore her. She smacked her lips and gave an awkward smile. “I’m not Kim Chun-baek.” “You are. Hyung said he only has one person offering him books.” “Maybe there’s someone else. But it’s not me.” “Even if you say that, I’m not taking the book.” He glanced down at the book she held and rejected it firmly. “Come on, just one more favor.” “No. I got scolded last time for always accepting them. That’s why you keep coming.” She tried handing over the book. Seo Yun-jae shoved his hands into his pockets and shook his head. “This is really the last one. Please, just pass it on.” She pleaded, but it was of no use. Seo Yun-jae’s expression remained firm. “I’m doing this for you, noona. If Hyung finds out you came again, he won’t let it go.” His heavy words made her uneasy. Had she really pissed Seon-jae off that much by sending all those books? But what else could she do? She had to leave something in his memory, even like this. As Seo Yun-jae turned to leave, she slipped the book into the hood of his puffer coat. The hood sagged from the weight. He whipped around. “Ah, seriously?! Noona!!” “Sorry!!” she shouted as she ran off. That was it. Really, the last time she'd come to the company was. Not that Seo Yun-jae would accept any more books anyway, and she had nothing left to give. She glanced over her shoulder—Seo Yun-jae was gone. She slowed her pace. She hadn’t eaten out since early morning, not knowing when he’d show up. Her stomach growled as the tension left her body. She looked up. There was a convenience store. Finally done, she felt hunger flood in. She pushed the door open and stepped inside. She poured hot water into the cup noodles, laid wooden chopsticks across the lid, and waited for the noodles to cook. Would any of this really save Seon-jae? She wanted to tell him everything. That she was from the future. In that future, he died. But he didn’t even trust her. The last time she tried warning him in a letter, he’d gotten mad, thinking she was playing games. Telling him something like that now would only make him push her away forever. So her words would just become a fleeting annoyance in his memory, something time would wash away. She sighed, her mouth open, and stared up at the ceiling, releasing breath after breath. “Am I even changing anything?” She opened the stir-fried kimchi packet and mixed the noodles with her chopsticks. She scooped up a clump of curly noodles, blew on them, and just as she brought them to her lips, she froze. Someone was standing outside the glass, staring straight at her. Chopsticks halted midair. Mouth still open. Se—Seon-jae?! She jammed the chopsticks into the noodle cup and crouched. This timeline was completely, utterly fucked. Why did she keep running into him? Was this his world now? A timeline that only Seon-jae and Baek In-hyeok got to live in? While she sat in stunned silence, the bell above the door jingled. She turned her head toward the sound. There he was—Seon-jae, holding the door, staring at her. He motioned with his hand. Come here. She looked away, pretending to search for something she’d dropped. “Kim Chun-baek.” “...Huh? Se-Seon-jae?” She lifted her head and forced a smile. It was painfully awkward. “I’ll wait. Eat first.” “...What?” The door jingled again as it closed. Was that real? She remembered what Seo Yun-jae had said: If he finds out you came again, he won’t let it go. So... is Seon-jae waiting outside with a flute now? Or all those books she gave him? Is he going to shove them back in her face? Her appetite vanished. She left the untouched ramen behind and started for the door—but then remembered how Seon-jae once said chocolate always improved his mood. She bought some. When she stepped outside, she spotted Seon-jae standing by the ATM next to the store. Their eyes met. She timidly walked over and held out the chocolate. “Here. Eat this.” “...What is it?” “Chocolate.” “Why are you giving me this?” “...Chocolate makes people feel better, doesn’t it?” Seon-jae looked at her, then picked one out of her palm. He unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth. “You’re always telling me not to eat stuff. And now this?” “Well, it’s something you like.” He bit into the chocolate. Their eyes met again. “How do you know I like chocolate?” “...Baek In-hyeok told me.” “In-hyeok did?” “Yeah.” It was technically true. Seon-jae had once said on the radio that he ate chocolate when he was stressed, sad, or angry—basically, any day that wasn’t a good day. She shut her mouth, lowering her gaze. She hadn’t done anything wrong, but standing in front of Seon-jae always made her feel small. “You.” His voice made her stiffen. She looked up at him, lips pressed tight in nervous anticipation, like a criminal waiting for a verdict. “Why do you keep giving me these books?” He held up the book she had sent through Seo Yun-jae—Smart Medicine. “Well... That one...” “Smart Medicine, something about insomnia... and the last one was Sleeping Pills Are Fine, right?” “No!” she shouted, waving her hands. “It’s Okay to Have Insomnia and the Dangers of Sleeping Pills. Sleeping pills are not fine!” Seon-jae stared at her blankly. Maybe she’d been too loud. She looked away, clearing her throat. “The genres are weird.” “What? You don’t know this author? He’s a super famous doctor. Hosts two medical shows!” She pointed to the author’s face on the book’s sleeve. Seon-jae stared at her. “Not the person. The genre. The subject matter.” His sharp tone made her shrink. “I just... I was worried you might not know this stuff, and something bad might happen...” “You mean like that death by shock? The one you underlined?” Her eyes widened. She clapped both hands over her mouth before she could shout, You read that?! “You read the book?” “Wasn’t that the point?” “Yes! It was!” She clenched her fist and shouted. Seon-jae raised an eyebrow and leaned back a little. “You don’t have to give me stuff like this.” “Ah... it was just a gift.” “Right. I don’t need gifts.” Was he saying he didn’t want them—or that he didn’t like them? She didn’t know how to respond. “...Oh.” “And you already know my number.” “What? No! I didn’t save it. I just have the messages. I swear I didn’t save it.” It sounded like he was accusing her of something. She hurried to explain. She had saved it at one point, but deleted it later, so technically she wasn’t lying. Seon-jae looked her in the eyes with a flat expression. “Save it.” “...What?” “Save my number. And if you have something to say, tell me. Don’t go through Yun-jae.” “...What?” She stared at him, stunned. Mouth slightly open. He cleared his throat, shoved the book back into his bag, zipped it shut, and walked away without a word. She stood there, staring at his retreating. Her heart was racing. Her face felt hot. Save it. He said to save it. She cupped her cheeks with both hands and bit her lip. She couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her face. She couldn’t save the number even if she wanted to—but she was happy anyway. A soft giggle escaped her lips. At least all those books meant something. Only when Seon-jae disappeared from view did she finally turn and walk away.