On a weekday after the weekend, the cram school was, as always, packed with students. While carrying handouts to the classroom, Younghyun suddenly apologized to Giyun.
“Giyun, I’m sorry.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think I introduced you to the wrong study group. The vibe is a total mess, right?”
Because he seemed genuinely sorry, Giyun gave a small smile. But Younghyun looked grave.
“I’m the one who started it, so I can’t exactly bow out, and if it keeps going this way I’ll just kick everyone out and restart from scratch.”
“It was the first day, so it was bound to be a bit chaotic. What time did you leave that day?”
“I left after the first round. Eight-ish?”
Judging from the fact that he’d left for home after that, it seemed Younghyun hadn’t stayed long at the drinking session either. Clicking his tongue, he went on.
“But I heard they went to a third round? That guy Chang-gon insisted they absolutely had to hit a karaoke.”
At the mention of Chang-gon, Giyun couldn’t help but knit his brows a little. The guy really seemed dead serious about partying.
“I heard this too, but that Nam Chang-gon is more ‘famous’ than you’d think.”
Before speaking further, Younghyun glanced around and even lowered his voice.
“Every time there’s a meetup, he hits on somebody, and more than a few study groups have fallen apart because of it. Whenever he’s in the mix, a study group turns into a sex-study, and apparently, he doesn’t even stick to women. And to top it off, he thinks he’s hot.”
Giyun paused. He remembered being asked out. So that’s just how he is. This time the target happened to be me…
“I don’t know who brought him in, but his reputation’s not great. I’ve run a lot of study groups, once one or two people start wrecking the mood, it’s hopeless.”
Silently, Giyun nodded. He hadn’t expected anything from Chang-gon to begin with, so he wasn’t disappointed or surprised. If anything, he felt oddly relieved.
If the guy had tossed a feather-light flirtation at him, then the fact that, for a moment, he’d considered using him to forget Seungjo wasn’t something to feel terribly guilty about.
“Anyway, from now on, no more after-parties. If that guy doesn’t participate properly, I’ll cut him right away.”
In the middle of his tirade, Younghyun abruptly stopped. Speak of the devil: from the other side, Chang-gon was striding over.
“Hello. Hi, Giyun.”
“Hello.”
Younghyun replied smoothly as if nothing had happened. Bowing his head, Giyun greeted without a word. Evidently, after saying he’d signed up for Seungjo’s class, he’d come to attend it.
“Hey, careful. He’s going to act chummy with you.”
Before he got picked up on the radar. Whispering that, Younghyun slipped away first. Left alone, Giyun managed a vague smile. What was there to be careful about, really.
The feather-light affection and interest Chang-gon had shown him. A relationship you could form and cut off easily. Maybe that was exactly what suited him. Wasn’t it too much to hope that someone would truly love him when even the parents who’d raised him had tossed him aside?
What does it feel like to be loved sincerely by someone? He’d never received it, and suddenly he was curious about the shape of that feeling.
People who’ve eaten meat eat it well. You need experience to do anything well. Only those who’ve been properly loved can properly love in return.
He was clumsy at everything even receiving love, and giving it. At this rate, even if by some miracle someone sincerely liked him, would he even recognize it?
Standing blankly in the hallway with a gloomy face, Giyun snapped to when a staffer called for the class TA and ran to the lobby. When life is grinding, there’s no time to wallow in feelings. Even thinking about how to build healthy relationships was, for him right now, a luxury.
Before the lecture began, as soon as the TA opened the classroom doors, the seats filled quickly. After finishing the prep, when Giyun went to sit in the spot where he’d left his bag, Chang-gon plopped down in the seat next to him.
“So your seat is here, huh?”
“Yes.”
The spot assigned to Giyun wasn’t anywhere near the lectern. It was an awkward distance. The kind where you could barely make out Seungjo’s face.
In his heart, he wanted to sit in the very front row, but maintaining the back-row atmosphere was part of the job. Even aside from that, he wasn’t a paying student; he couldn’t take a popular seat. Lucky enough to attend at all, he kept his bag in an unobtrusive corner.
In that sense, the fact that Chang-gon deliberately sat next to him in this unpopular seat made his intention obvious.
“Did you get home okay that day?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll give you a ride next time.”
“I’m fine.”
Answering each of the rapid-fire questions briefly, Giyun opened his book. A sidelong glance showed that at least the guy had brought the textbook.
“Where do you live?”
“Incheon.”
“Where in Incheon? I was in Songdo recently.”
“Uh, class is starting.”
When Seungjo walked into the room, Giyun cut him off at once. After class began, he didn’t spare Chang-gon a glance.
“Wow… You’re really serious about studying.”
If it weren’t for the occasional noise, he would have forgotten the man was even sitting beside him. Giyun gave no response.
“Is the class fun?”
“Sorry, but could you be quiet?”
When the throwaway comments kept coming, he lowered his voice and cautioned him. If you’re not going to listen properly, why pay for an expensive in-person class and come all the way here? And who attends class for “fun”? If you want to watch something entertaining, go to a theater, not a cram school.
Of course, to Giyun, Seungjo’s class was incredibly fun. Which is why he snapped at Chang-gon, who was breaking his concentration, with more than a little bias.
“Don’t chat during lecture. You’re disturbing other people.”
“You’ve got a mole on your ear, huh?”
Either the warning didn’t register, or he didn’t care; making a random remark, Chang-gon lightly tugged Giyun’s earlobe.
Reflexively, Giyun covered his ear. The irritation he’d been holding back showed plainly on his face.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll be quiet.”
Waving his hands with a laugh, he backed off.
Seriously… it felt almost deliberate. Giyun started to say something, then decided to let it go. It wasn’t worth it. Class was still in session, and he’d just promised to be quiet.
If he couldn’t focus during lecture, he was only hurting himself. Turning back to the front, Giyun nearly jumped out of his seat. His eyes met Seungjo’s.
He’s looking. He’s looking at me.
As soon as he realized it, the gaze moved on.
Heart pounding, Giyun calmed himself. The thudding wouldn’t stop. And this wasn’t even a seat where you could clearly see his face.
He was simply demonstrating an excellent teaching technique, making eye contact evenly with the students in the back as well. He knew that in his head, but his heart wasn’t so cool. No wonder people say you shouldn’t even smile at a country bumpkin.
And Seungjo hadn’t even smiled at him… Shaking his head, Giyun muttered inwardly, I’m a first-class bumpkin.
True to his word, Chang-gon didn’t talk again until the end of class, but after the break he didn’t come back for the final session at all. He must have gone off to pursue liberty on instinct. Thanks to that, it was easier and more pleasant for Giyun to focus than before.
After class, while erasing the board, Giyun once again met eyes with Seungjo, who had just finished tidying the lectern and was about to leave. It was a curious day. Usually, it was hard to meet his eyes even once…
“Eun Giyun.”
“Yes?”
Something even stranger happened. He hadn’t expected to be called. It was the first time the man had addressed him personally inside the classroom. Without realizing it, he tightened his grip on the eraser.
“Don’t fool around during my class.”
A concise, out-of-the-blue warning. Giyun’s eyes flew wide. He tried to work out what it meant.
“What…?”
Did he see the scuffle with Chang-gon earlier? A rush of unfairness. Why did he have to look at me right then?
“Sir, just a moment.”
Seungjo had already turned his back and was leaving the room. A beat late, Giyun hurried after him.
“I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what.”
“I didn’t fool around.”
This was not easy conversation. Nor the right environment for one. A thousand in-person students were pouring out all at once, and to make matters worse a big lecture had just ended next door and several hundred more were flooding out. The wide corridor was a sea of people; a flea market would be less crowded.
“I told him to be quiet.”
“Can’t hear you.”
Somehow, Seungjo cut through the crowd with ease. The profile listing of “over 190cm” clearly wasn’t a lie. His height and build were optimized for parting crowds. It was like the way ahead opened just for him. Flapping after him like a sparrow chasing a stork, Giyun tried to match his pace, but inevitably the gap widened.
“I told him to…”
Raising his voice, he was suddenly swept from behind as people shoved forward. Nearly losing his balance, he grabbed and released the arm in front of him (Seungjo’s) to steady himself. Seungjo glanced back to check on him.
“Ah, sorry…”
“You’ll get trampled like that.”
With a scowl, Seungjo lifted his arm, and instinctively, Giyun brought up his guard. But Seungjo slipped an arm around the back of his neck and drew him in. As his guard fell, Seungjo looked down at him with a baffled expression.
“Unbelievable. Do you go around getting hit?”
“N-no.”
“I told you not to turn innocent people into trash.”
Even while chiding nonstop, he moved steadily, taking Giyun along. Sticking close to him, the way opened like the Red Sea. There was no time to feel comfort; for other reasons, Giyun could hardly think.
They were too close. Where his hand lightly touched the nape and shoulder, it burned as if scalded. The surrounding noise faded. In that jam-packed corridor, it felt like only the two of them existed.
I’m losing it. I swore I wouldn’t like him. Hopeless country bumpkin. No saving me…
“I… wasn’t fooling around. It’s just, what happened was…”
Head ducked like a culprit, he finally got back to the main point.
“He kept talking to me, so I told him to be quiet.”
Even as he answered, heat crept up his face. The line sounded like something an elementary schooler would tattle to a homeroom teacher: Teacher, he started it. I didn’t do anything wrong. Please don’t scold me. Please don’t hate me.
To be fair, though, Seungjo had opened the door to that childish excuse. What else was he supposed to say in response to that kind of scolding?
He just wanted to clear the unfairness. Even if he was attending for free, he was someone who focused on Seungjo’s class more than anyone. He never let his attention wander with the man right in front of him. That, at least, he didn’t want misunderstood.
“That’s all. So…”
“Why was he talking to you?”
As if waiting for it, came a different question. Startled by the unexpected turn, Giyun looked up. As soon as they reached the emergency exit and escaped the crush, Seungjo let go of the arm around his neck. His glance over at Giyun looked as impassive as ever.
“Do you know him?”
“Who?”
“The guy next to you.”
They’d just escaped the torrent of bodies pouring out like monsters in a tower defense game.
Most were heading downstairs to leave the building, while Seungjo was taking the stairs up. And, blindly, so was the trailing Giyun.
“Yes. I do know him…”
“Who is he?”
The conversation seemed to be veering off. Why did it matter who the guy was? Wasn’t the point whether he’d been fooling around? Puzzled, Giyun answered obediently.
“He’s in a study group with me.”
“Study group, my foot. Just say you wanted to hang out.”
Seungjo let out a deflated laugh. It sounded like a sneer, and swallowing his grievance, Giyun explained.
“We’re not hanging out. We meet to study. We’re working hard.”
“Study groups are only meaningful when you’re digging into a field that’s too broad and deep to research alone. What you’re doing now isn’t that kind or level of study.”
Not an inch of it sank in with Seungjo. Shrinking a little, Giyun offered a meeker reply.
“Lots of people do them…”
“That’s the weak-willed gathering to pat themselves on the back and waste time.”
“…”
Even when you’re right, there’s a way to say it; put that harshly and it just stung. Even if Giyun didn’t have much study-group experience, if the perennially group-studying Younghyun had heard that, he’d probably clamp a hand over his mouth and cry.
“For this level of study, you work alone. Did you do a study group to memorize your multiplication tables?”
“It’s been over ten years, so I don’t really…”
“What exactly are you relying on in fellow test-takers who aren’t better than you at anything? How is that going to help you progress? If a lecturer spoon-feeds you every subject and you still can’t chew and swallow on your own, then give up and find another path.”
From the second floor up to the seventh, two steps at a time, Seungjo fired off barbs without so much as losing his breath. Scurrying to keep up, Giyun felt his head go foggy, not from stairs, but from Seungjo.
His vision dimmed, chest tight. Through clenched lips, he declared surrender.
“…I won’t do it. The study group.”
“That’s for you to decide.”
After laying out a whole case against study groups, the way he drew a line once Giyun agreed felt downright cold. Stunned, Giyun thought maybe nothing he said would please the man…
At the top of the stairs, Seungjo halted. Before pushing the door, he cast a glance back at Giyun. For all its apparent indifference, that face hid something he couldn’t read.
“Then why was he touching your ear?”
“Sorry?”
“That study-group member.”
Giyun was dumbfounded. He’d seen that?
“Your eyesight is… really good.”
“Don’t change the subject.”
He himself flipped topics like pancakes, but sadly, that freedom wasn’t granted to Giyun. On the sparsely populated seventh-floor hall, mostly research rooms, their footsteps and voices echoed.
“Is that some superstition in your study group? Touch your neighbor’s ear and you’ll pass?”
“That’s the first I’ve heard of such a superstition…”
“Even hearing it, I can tell it’s idiotic.”
“I didn’t let him. And I don’t believe in that.”
Dragged along at Seungjo’s pace, he still tried to assert his own rationality. Sorry to Chang-gon, but he had no bandwidth to defend him as some credulous fool believing nonsense. The man wasn’t even here. There was no harm done.
“That fool kept staring at only you during class.”
Stopping outside his own research room, Seungjo fixed his gaze on Giyun, his eyes deepening.
“Were you aware?”
“No, I was studying, so I didn’t…”
He broke off. What was this seemingly disjointed yet oddly connected talk? What was it he wanted to say to him…
“So…”
“…”
“Why are you asking me that?”
At the slightly bold question, Seungjo briefly screwed up his face. Was it because the question was rude, or the answer awkward? After a pause, he, as always, answered flatly.
“Because it’s galling and pathetic. Coming into my class and spending it looking at the guy next to you.”
“…”
“If it happens again, I’m kicking him out.”
Silence fell over the wide hall. Another research room door opened, and a few lecturers stepped out. They glanced at the two standing there, then strolled off toward the elevator, chatting among themselves.
“…Is that all?”
“If it isn’t, then what?”
He shot back as if he’d heard something stupid. In truth, even Giyun didn’t know what answer he’d wanted.
While he stood there speechless, Seungjo jerked his chin.
“You’re not planning to take that home, are you?”
He meant the board eraser still in Giyun’s hand. He’d carried it all the way here? Internally, Giyun groaned. That was how hastily he’d run out.
“No…”
“Good. I was about to suspect kleptomania. Put it back where it belongs.”
With that, Seungjo turned and went into his research room. As the door shut tight, Giyun reached toward the handle, then curled his hand into a fist.
He had so much he wanted to say, only none of it he dared ask. Even he thought he was being dramatic…
When he talked with Seungjo, he sometimes wanted to mistake things on purpose. Like someone hunting diamonds in the desert, he instinctively strained every nerve to find any hint of fondness for him in the offhand words the man tossed out.
He had no immunity to this sort of thing, so on days like this he ended up thinking about him all day long.
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