Butterfly Effect
The restaurant was just noisy enough that no one could overhear the conversation between the two of them—calibrated to exactly the right level of bustle.
"Hah..."
Having finished ordering, Yeoncheong slumped back into her chair like she was melting into it.
She'd only been up on stage for a little while, but something about the audience's stares had left her feeling bone-heavy.
Seoha poured a glass of water with a faint smile and passed it to her friend.
"Did you have fun?"
"Up until the middle... I don't even remember how it ended."
They'd said she'd only have to answer a few questions, but not a single one of them had been easy to answer. Still, actually running away with an 'I can't do this' felt like it would genuinely summon Seoha to her rescue, so she'd somehow managed to answer everything anyway.
Maybe it would have been different if she were as outgoing as Suyeon or Hasol. Yeoncheong simply wasn't that kind of person.
Having returned to her seat completely drained of energy, she'd spent the rest of the play half-lying in her chair, and she remembered absolutely nothing about how the ending went.
"Well, at least you got a souvenir out of it."
When Seoha pointed at the shopping bag sitting beside her friend, Yeoncheong stuck out her lips in a pout.
"I didn't want a souvenir. I didn't want to go up on stage at all."
"Then why do you always hide? Honestly, someone like you standing in the audience stands out to the actors far more than you'd think."
You think being surrounded by a crowd makes you invisible, but the more you try to disappear, the more conspicuous you actually become.
It was wisdom earned from experience—Seoha had occasionally stood before crowds as student council president, after all.
And besides, they'd been sitting in the front rows. It was only natural that the actors' eyes would land on her.
"I didn't know that..."
Of course, with her limited experience watching plays and zero experience as a student council president, all Yeoncheong could do was mutter quietly.
Seoha watched her friend for a while with an expression that could only be called fond, then leaned forward with her chin resting in her hand.
"So, what exactly is it about me that's so pretty?"
"Huh?"
For a moment the abrupt change of subject left her flustered—until she realized it was about what had happened during the play.
Even looking back on it now, that actor had been an absolute menace. She'd figured out almost immediately how intensely Yeoncheong reacted to anything involving Seoha, and had relentlessly probed at nothing else.
"I already told you, that wasn't me talking."
That was Yeoncheong's answer, but it wasn't the bland reaction Seoha had been hoping for.
"Oh? So you're saying I'm not pretty at all, and you don't like me?"
"No, that's not—how does that even follow...?"
Seoha had been expecting it: the reddening cheeks, the eyes darting everywhere, the sight of her beloved scrambling in utter disarray.
But what came back at the end of Yeoncheong's sigh was this.
"Hah... You are pretty. Insanely pretty. I like you. As a friend, of course."
It was a perfect counterattack.
The addendum tacked on at the end didn't register at all against those first two statements.
Just as Nayun had once jolted at Yeoncheong's words.
I like you, you're cute, you're pretty. Words she was so hopelessly awkward about. And words coming from someone she actually liked, at that.
The impact was beyond anything Seoha had imagined.
Those round eyes showed more white than the red of her irises. Her parted mouth opened and closed soundlessly, unable to produce a single word. And despite the warm interior of the restaurant, her cheeks were flushing as red as her own eyes.
Seoha instinctively glanced around the busy restaurant, licking her lips. Thankfully, Yeoncheong didn't seem to have noticed her agitation.
"What's wrong? Yeoncheong, you never usually say things like that."
"It's not that I never say them. I just don't say them often, okay? And back on stage, there were so many people it didn't matter. When you're stating an objective fact, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."
An objective fact.
Seoha had just finished composing her expression and was about to turn her head away—only to find herself staring at the kitchen again.
Completely unaware that she'd landed a critical hit on her opponent, Yeoncheong noticed her friend repeatedly sneaking glances toward the kitchen and, curious about the same thing, leaned in to look with her.
"Seoha, are you hungry?"
"Huh?"
"You keep staring at the kitchen."
"Ah... yeah. I am."
If Yeoncheong caught her flustered look now, she'd obviously pounce on the opening and tease her, just like at the pajama party. So Seoha wanted to brush past the moment, even if it meant hiding behind that excuse.
With dinner taken care of, the two of them decided to take a light walk while they waited for the ride to Yeoncheong's place.
Seoha had offered to drive her, but Yeoncheong had politely declined.
She knew now about the feelings Seoha had been carrying for her for nearly a year. Which was exactly why she didn't believe the day could end so ordinarily—watching a play, having dinner together, and nothing more.
But contrary to Yeoncheong's guarded expectations...
'Hah... today was a disaster.'
Seoha's heart was in utter turmoil.
The plan had been to win her heart over completely today and seal the deal on Valentine's Day.
By sheer luck she'd managed a little cuddling with Yeoncheong at the hamburger place. But at the theater they'd ended up far closer to the stage than expected, making anything impossible, and at the restaurant she'd been hit with a devastating counterattack and spent the whole meal unable to say a word, just shoveling pasta into her mouth.
With every plan derailed, of course her mind was a mess.
In which case, she could just set up another date and take things slowly...
But everyone becomes a fool in the face of love.
Even Seoha—who never lost her grip on the top spot in the entire school, even with a confession looming and her nerves fraying—was no exception.
"Yeoncheong. You know I really like you, right?"
She was blurting out things with no setup or context at all.
"Well, obviously."
"Not as a friend."
"Ugh..."
She'd been trying to slide past it with a joke, but Seoha's vision had narrowed too far for any playful back-and-forth.
Seeing her friend—always so composed, so effortlessly at ease—suddenly so desperate and earnest, Yeoncheong realized that joking around now would be cruel, and stripped the mischief from her own voice.
"Then... can I ask you one thing?"
After a brief hesitation, Seoha nodded.
She had no idea what kind of question could come up in a moment like this, but it was a request from the person she loved. She could afford to hear it out first and decide after.
Even after getting permission, Yeoncheong hesitated pointlessly, glancing around at their surroundings.
Seoha, unable to wait any longer, prodded her.
"What are you being so cagey about? Just ask."
"It's... what's the reason you like me?"
It was more than reason enough for hesitation.
Startled, Seoha stopped in her tracks and looked at the friend walking beside her. Yeoncheong didn't look away.
When Yeoncheong had spread both her arms wide and said, 'Go ahead, hit me if you dare,' it had been the exact opportunity Seoha had been longing for.
But the friend who had always dodged every affectionate gesture from Seoha and Suyeon alike had suddenly changed. Rather than snatching up the opportunity, she'd wanted to understand her friend's heart first.
"Why all of a sudden?"
"Seoha, you're going to confess to me, aren't you."
Seoha had certainly been radiating that mood, unmistakably—but that was the sort of thing you politely pretended not to notice.
Yeoncheong's move right now was spectacularly tactless, even rude. But the words that followed swept all of it away.
"So think about it seriously until then. That's why I'm asking."
With Suyeon's recently bold advances, and Seoha picking up the pace in response...
Yeoncheong knew the inevitable moment was drawing near.
These were no longer things she could keep quietly sidestepping. If her friends were offering their true feelings, she owed them an answer that matched.
And in that attitude, Seoha glimpsed hope.
Just the fact that Yeoncheong intended to think it over seriously was itself a sign that the door remained open.
Her mind was now consumed with a single task: how to make the most of this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Honestly... Seoha had fallen for Yeoncheong at first sight.
Yeoncheong's looks had certainly played a part.
Her figure went without saying. That small face with its delicately arranged features, and on top of it all, that sky-blue hair and those blue eyes that called to mind a cloudless sky.
Every first impression begins with appearances, so it couldn't be helped.
Her homeroom teacher had even asked her to look out for the new girl—which was why Seoha had shown her kindness from the very start.
But then it turned out her resemblance to the heavens wasn't limited to her looks. She had the generosity of a wide open sky, accepting of everything and everyone. She gave her absolute best to everything she took on, skilled or not. She was hopeless yet never stopped standing her ground, which meant she kept getting counterattacked. And she reacted to everything with a charm that made it all feel brand new.
Chasing after those moments one by one, Seoha had eventually found that Yeoncheong always occupied a corner of her vision.
There were reasons to like her stacked past overflowing. The longer she spent thinking about it, the more those reasons naturally multiplied.
'There are too many...'
But what she needed now wasn't a lengthy catalog. At the same time, she hated the idea of something as common and flippant as 'I fell for you at first sight.'
One strike. She needed one strike that would shake Yeoncheong's heart to its core.
Besides, didn't everyone want to tell this particular story in a way that felt special? Seoha, too, refused to wrap her feelings in rehearsed clichés.
"Take your time thinking about it. There's another bus after this one. Worst case, we can take something else entirely."
This considerate side of Yeoncheong was another reason she could add to the list—though apparently the girl herself remained completely oblivious to it.
In any case, having finished her deliberation thanks to that consideration, Seoha finally lifted her head.
"Yeoncheong, do you know what the butterfly effect is?"
"Uh... a butterfly flapping its wings can cause a tornado? Something like that. Am I close?"
A butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a tornado in Texas.
It was a concept proposed by an American meteorologist: the idea that a minuscule difference at the start can amplify, over time, into a difference of monumental consequence.
Perhaps because the story was so famous, Yeoncheong seemed to know it at least in broad strokes.
Having bought herself the time to explain, Seoha wet her lips.
"That's why I fell for you."
"Huh?"
The single change of Yeoncheong becoming a girl.
It led to her transfer to Hwaryeong High School, and out of all those classes, to Class 2-1, and to the seat right beside Seoha, and to the countless things that followed.
Two people who should never, ever have met.
It had all snowballed into Seoha developing feelings for Yeoncheong.
If that wasn't the butterfly effect, what on earth would you call it?
"Um, that's... well..."
The line was grander and more cringe-inducing than she could have imagined, and Yeoncheong found herself completely speechless.
Seoha kept going.
"So what I mean is—I hope you don't think of becoming a girl as some terrible misfortune."
"Huh?"
"It might sound self-centered, but... thanks to that, I got to meet you."
The words must have been impromptu, because a faint flush crept up Seoha's cheeks only after the fact. And yet, even as it did, a soft smile spread naturally across her face, following the sincerity that had finally made it out of her mouth.
Yeoncheong flinched and lowered her eyes.
Suyeon and Seoha, Hasol and Nayun. And on top of them, Chairwoman Yurim and her homeroom teacher, Ms. Jisu. Yeoncheong knew all too well just how lucky a person she was.
Because of all the people who had accepted her situation and reached out their hands to help, she'd already come to believe that becoming a woman wasn't purely a bad thing.
But thinking it yourself, and having someone else say it to you outright—those were two entirely different things.
Truthfully, that single sentence reached far deeper than all the talk of butterflies and tornadoes.
"So... um, was that it?"
"Oh? Y-yeah. That's everything I wanted to say."
"Okay. Then... I'll see you next time!"
Yeoncheong hurriedly pinned her hopes on Valentine's Day and said her goodbyes.
Left standing there all alone, Seoha felt her head finally cool—and with it, regret over everything she'd just said and done began to set in.
'I've lost my mind... The butterfly effect? Seriously. I should have just said I fell for her at first sight.'
Clichés may be common, but there's a reason everyone packs their confessions into the same worn-out frame.
With people passing by all around her, she couldn't even cry out, and could only writhe in silent agony...
Having tried to be clever for no reason, Seoha had succeeded only in creating one more piece of cringe history that would be remembered for a lifetime.