Mending Fences Before the Festival Storm
The story Seo Juwon had told him about festival preparations haunted Nam Siu's ears all through the night. In the end, wide awake till dawn, Siu threw on his uniform early the next morning and headed to the entrance of Baek Isul's apartment complex for the first time in ages.
Breathing in the crisp morning air as he stood there, Siu's insides churned with a burning complexity. How much had Isul been mulling over alone during those past few days when he'd wallowed in misunderstandings and inferiority, acting like such a pathetic mess? He'd been putting on a one-man show without even grasping the depth of the scars she carried.
"Haa..."
As Siu dry-washed his face and nudged at the ground with his foot, a familiar voice cut through.
"...Nam Siu?"
Siu's head snapped up in surprise. There was Isul, stepping out from the complex entrance. Spotting him on the way to school after days apart, her eyes widened round as she froze in place.
An awkward silence stretched. Siu flapped his lips, unsure what to say first, when Isul averted her gaze first and spoke in a curt tone.
"...Seeing you here in the morning feels like it's been forever, huh?"
Her words prickled like thorns, laced with hurt, but Siu read it clear as day. The old him might've shrunk back at her reaction, but not anymore.
Thud, thud. Without hesitation, Siu strode right up and planted himself close in front of her.
"Wha...? What're you..."
Isul, caught off guard by his sudden proximity, started to step back—
Grab. Siu caught her wrist gently but firmly.
"Isul. I'm sorry."
"..."
Isul went still. Siu swallowed hard and let out the words he'd chewed over all night.
He wanted to spill everything about Yoo Eunho's repulsive true nature right then, but that wouldn't help her.
"These past few days... I was such an idiot."
"...If you get it, let go. We're gonna be late."
Isul tugged irritably, but Siu tightened his grip just a fraction and locked eyes with her squarely.
"No matter who you meet, I should've trusted you. I let my dumb imagination run wild."
"..."
"No excuses. It was all my fault."
At Siu's apology, Isul finally lifted her head slowly to meet his gaze. The resentment from days of him dodging her melted away like spring snow under his earnest eyes.
With a small sigh, she let the tension drain from her stiff shoulders.
"...If you go digging your own hole alone again, that's it for real."
"Yeah! Never again! Pinky swear!"
Relief bloomed into a smile on Siu's face.
"C'mon. We're gonna be late."
Isul turned primly and started walking ahead. But the fingers Siu held shifted naturally, slipping between his and lacing softly together.
Feeling the warm glow from their clasped hands, the two walked side by side—closer than ever—for the first time in days.
"Ugh, midterms ended just days ago and now it's festival time already."
During homeroom, Ha Taemu strode in through the front door, slammed the attendance book on the podium, and scratched his head irritably.
"Anyway, that's how it is. Figure out your booth concept yourselves—make it sensible—and submit a proposal. Class rep, run the meeting."
The teacher shrugged off like it was a hassle and left. The classroom erupted into a marketplace buzz.
"Hey! Let's do a maid café! Make Seo Juwon wear a skirt too!"
"Piss off! No way in hell!"
"How about a non-alcoholic cocktail bar? Bartender theme."
The class rep stood at the blackboard as kids giggled and tossed ideas.
Siu slumped over his desk with a deep sigh. He could already feel the annoying chores piling up, but he lacked the energy to object.
Ignoring the lively debate, he gazed out the window.
Sigh... Miss Isul already... Wonder what Class 2's doing.
Her cool, pretty face floated into his mind unbidden. Thinking of her lifted his mood a bit, but now he worried if her standout looks might land her some weird role.
Lunchtime in the rowdy cafeteria. The big window table now routinely claimed by their group of seven.
"Ugh, festival? What a pain. Just wanna nap."
Park Geon grumbled, shoveling mountains of stir-fried pork.
"What're you guys doing for yours?"
"Us? If nothing else, movie viewing room to kill time. Go Dasom, what's your class got that's fun?"
Dasom, sitting beside Isul and munching her rice, shook her head at Geon's question.
"Ours too lazy—board game café. Just shove some desks together."
"Damn, that's sweet. Me and Nam Siu stuck in aprons mixing drinks."
Juwon chuckled wryly and nodded at Isul across the table.
"Hey, Baek Isul. What's your class doing?"
"..."
Isul, picking at her food, furrowed her brow and set down her spoon. Her pale face twisted in clear annoyance. Ji Yoon, beside her, answered lazily.
"Western haunted mansion. Ghost house."
"Ooh, sounds fun. What're you doing? Ghosts? Western-style, so vampires?"
Juwon perked up, but Isul shot him a glare and muttered.
"Promotion. They want me cosplaying outside to lure people."
"Pfft—!"
Dasom choked on her water, coughing, while Juwon clapped and laughed.
"Class 2's got business savvy. Baek Isul promoting? You'll rake in cash. What're you wearing? Bloodstained suit?"
"Ghost bride vibe... Ugh, so annoying. Why do I have to dress up and pull crowds?"
Isul pouted and flopped onto the table. Dasom and Chaerin giggled, patting her back like she was adorable.
But Siu, listening, felt the vague dread from class turn real. He narrowed his eyes.
Ghost bride...? Out in the hall hawking tickets?
Her signature cool, pale aura in a white dress, standing in the corridor. Just imagining it, every eye would lock on—even guys from other schools crashing the festival. His head already throbbed at the thought.
And among those outsiders...
Bzzz—bzzz—
Isul's pocket vibrated from where she lay. She pulled out her phone with a sour look.
Her brow twitched at the screen. Lips pressed tight, she ignored her meal and tapped away for a long stretch.
Siu didn't crane to peek. No need. Only one person could twist her face like that right now.
On the way back after eating, as friends swarmed the snack bar, Siu sidled up to Isul, still fiddling with her phone in the hall.
"Who was that earlier?"
He tossed it out casually, like it was nothing. Isul startled, pocketing the phone.
"Just an old middle school friend. Heard about our festival, wants to come."
"Oh, yeah?"
Siu nodded flatly. Isul glanced at him, then rushed to add,
"Hey, Nam Siu. Saying this upfront so you don't misunderstand—it's really not like that..."
"I know."
Siu cut her gently with a soft chuckle.
"Didn't mean it like that."
"Huh?"
"Just curious since it's a friend from middle school. Wanna meet him sometime this weekend?"
Isul's eyes went wide at the unexpected offer.
"Meet him? For real?"
"Yeah. Boyfriend's gotta say hi at least. That cool?"
Siu shrugged. Isul stared blankly a beat, then burst into a grin.
"...Fine. I'll set it up. We'll go."
She nodded readily. His straightforward approach—unlike usual—seemed to ease her inwardly.
A smile curved Siu's lips at her answer, but his fists in his pockets clenched rock-hard.
Yeah. Let's meet, Yoo Eunho.
This time, I won't let you toy with her.
Finally, the weekend arrived. In front of a franchise café downtown, their meetup spot.
Siu, dressed sharper than usual, stared rigidly at the glass door.
"Nam Siu. You heading to a fight or what?"
Isul poked his tense shoulders, bemused.
"Huh? Oh, no. Just... nervous."
"It's just my middle school buddy. Why're you tense?"
Isul reached casually for the handle. But Siu beat her, gripping it tight.
His sharp gaze pierced through the full-glass window—to the second-floor window seat.
There sat Yoo Eunho, chin propped, wearing that affable, leisurely smile as he waited for Isul.
Today, I'll shatter that mask for good, Siu vowed deep inside. With resolve, he shoved the heavy door wide open.