Heart-Pounding Literary Club (3)
Cold gazes crossed in the uncomfortable silence.
That same look from the MT trip.
Jeong Ayeong watched the two of them with a gaze that was nothing like her usual self.
The atmosphere flowed subtle and tangled all at once. The eyes that met between Kang Hyeona and Jeong Ayeong were sharp enough to cut, yet Han Sein’s expression—cutting straight through the emotion like a bard’s song ringing out across a battlefield—stayed bright and lively.
“Bye. Ayeong, let’s go.”
“Mm…”
“…….”
It happened to be a fork in the road anyway. Han Sein offered Kang Hyeona a casual farewell, linked arms with Jeong Ayeong, and the whole incident was settled for the moment.
The pair of boy and girl walking on ahead. Someone else might have clapped and said they looked perfect together. In Kang Hyeona’s eyes, though, the picture was a little different.
A faintly turning head, a lingering glance. At the end of that glance was Kang Hyeona; then it turned away again.
Silence.
The mouth that sent him off stayed silent. Her gaze swayed, restless. The feeling rising from deep inside her chest was pure confusion.
First came jealousy.
Next came rationalization.
Last came the twist.
The skinship with Jeong Ayeong had sparked jealousy. But when she thought about their relationship, her heart settled. They weren’t dating because they wanted to, were they? A love arranged by Kim Hyeongmin. Yes. Exactly like a political marriage in some fantasy novel—something forced, something neither of them had asked for.
Kang Hyeona’s fist clenched tight around the twisted thought. She simply returned to her own class in silence, yet the existence called Han Sein had already sunk deep into her mind. Picturing him reading Jeong Ayeong’s cues, forced to act half against his will—her thoughts only grew more tangled.
It had gone far past simple unease. A feeling she couldn’t put into words. Something close to unpleasantness boiled up and settled deep in her chest.
Instinct. Yes—it was a kind of instinct. The instinct that if she just swallowed the feeling, it would come roaring back later, bigger than ever.
So on the walk home, Jeong Ayeong asked in a quiet voice.
They walked together for about ten minutes and would part at the fork. They had only just started toward home; she had to speak now.
“Sein.”
“Yeah.”
“Earlier… about Kang Hyeona…”
“Uh… why?”
A voice so small it sounded like an ant crawling. How many times in her life had she ever voiced discomfort? For Jeong Ayeong it took real courage, and the emotion in her tone showed it. As a girlfriend she had every right to ask, didn’t she? No need to read the room. That was all.
Clutching that scrap of courage, Jeong Ayeong finished the sentence.
“Why… why did you come with her? Did something happen… no, right?”
“Ah. Same club.”
“…What?”
“Genre Literature Arts Club? Turns out she’s the president.”
“…….”
Their steps continued slowly. Han Sein asked with a soft little chuckle.
“Hard to believe?”
“Yeah…”
“Feels like a ghost club. She was the only one in the room—”
“What?”
In that instant Han Sein’s sentence never finished. The retort came out high and sharp; emotion had flooded Jeong Ayeong’s question.
Fifth period, sixth period, seventh period. His words could also be read another way: he had spent the entire afternoon alone with Kang Hyeona.
“…What?”
“A-again. Explain it again.”
“The only member there was her. Just her.”
“So you two were alone…?”
Her voice rose. Their footsteps stopped dead. Anxiety laced the gaze looking down at Han Sein. Anxiety and jealousy churned deep inside her. Of all people—Kang Hyeona? Jeong Ayeong’s mind, which had been empty of suspicion a moment ago, began to lock on hard.
“Yeah. We just read books.”
“D-does that even make sense…? Clubs are supposed to have five members or more—”
A normal club would, yes. Han Sein only shrugged.
“You know how it is. Kim Hyeongmin and that whole group. They skipped the entire thing to go drink or whatever. Perfectly legal, I guess.”
“…….”
Enough to make her lose her mind. Jeong Ayeong’s thoughts went blank. She had a thousand things she wanted to say, yet none of them would leave her mouth—because the look in Han Sein’s eyes was changing.
“You suspect me?”
“N-no…”
“Just read books. Nothing happened. Really.”
“…….”
“Ha…”
A small sigh slipped out. In that moment Jeong Ayeong’s breath caught. From his lips came calm, reasonable words—his mood, his feelings, his state—laid out plainly.
“We’ve only been dating a few days, right?”
“Yeah…”
“It feels kind of bad that you seem a little suspicious.”
“I-I-I was just worried… s-so…”
“I’m worried too.”
“…….”
“Computers? Are there no guys in your club?”
“Th-there are…”
There were. Jeong Ayeong fell silent, remembering the one male she had seen in her own club earlier. The words that came from Sein’s mouth were the kind that would sound sweet to any girl—words that cracked open the suffocating air.
“I’m worried too. Because I love Jeong Ayeong. Same thing.”
“Yeah…”
“It just… feels a little off being suspected.”
“N-no…”
Denial spilled out. The brief, pleasant clearing of the air had been a false hope. Jeong Ayeong couldn’t think straight. Denial, then apology. In that short span she looked back at herself. After hearing Han Sein’s side, she remembered raising her voice, interrogating him, letting her own feelings drive the questions.
That’s right. It made sense. His position and his feelings were understandable. The answer her thoughts settled on was only one.
“I-I’m sorry.”
“…….”
“I-I was wrong. It’s not that I don’t trust you, Sein… but still, still…”
“It’s okay.”
He said it was okay. Jeong Ayeong could not relax. Instead an uncomfortable heat rose in her chest. As if the matter were finished, Han Sein turned his gaze away.
Light. Yes—the light had faded. Those lovely eyes, that gaze that made a heart warm all by itself, had gone gray.
Is this what love is supposed to be? We’ve only been dating a few days. Do we already have to raise our voices and hurt each other?
He had said it was okay. But his eyes and expression said otherwise. Anyone could see it wasn’t okay. Even Jeong Ayeong, who was usually hopeless at reading people, could tell that much.
“I’m sorry. Se-Sein. I’m sorry…”
“No. Don’t apologize.”
“Really…”
“I said it’s okay.”
“…….”
“I already said so, Ayeong. Okay?”
“Okay…”
Jeong Ayeong’s lips pressed shut. What was she supposed to do? Self-reproach soaked into the frustrated place in her chest. The situation was still unresolved.
“You go first. I’ll stop by the convenience store.”
“…Okay.”
How could she say she would follow? After making a mistake like that, how could she cling to him?
Han Sein headed for the convenience store. Jeong Ayeong moved her feet slowly. A faint, hitching breath slipped out. She felt as if she had made a terrible mistake. Because dating was new, because love was new. In a first love where “first” was no excuse, she felt utterly pathetic.
At the same time a huge anxiety rose. How hard-won this love was. A boy so lovely she would never trade him for anyone else—someone far too good for her. If it fell apart… then what?
“Hic… heu…”
If I cry—I must not cry. Girls aren’t supposed to cry. That was what she had been taught, and she refused to look any weaker. She pressed down harder on the wound and the anxiety that had dug deep into her heart. There was no answer to the stifling situation, only the reality that she still had to go home. Because her mind was hazy, the feeling that reached toward him only grew deeper—yearning, pleading. It was the first step of that beginning.
"How exactly did you do that?"
“Do what.”
Points… the amount is enormous. Just today you have already acquired 3245.
“Just… whatever.”
I answered the hologram while doing housework. Why did that suddenly annoy me?
“Ah, move! Can’t you see I’m chopping green onions?”
"My apologies. I was simply curious…"
Irritation flared as if I were looking at a hopeless junior. Truthfully I wasn’t that annoyed—I just weirdly wanted to snap whenever the hologram showed up.
Anyway. Housework was wrapping up. Current time: 5:30 p.m. Still about thirty minutes until Han Seyeon got home. The soup had started to simmer. She always showered before eating, so I could stir-fry the meat then. Thirty free minutes. Only after finishing the chores did I finally pick up my smartphone.
A messenger app that normally stayed dead quiet. Right now it was on fire.
“Hmm…”
I scrolled through the messages. Not all that different from usual Jeong Ayeong—except she looked a little more frantic.
I tapped the phone lightly.
“Jarvis.”
"My name is not Jarvis…"
“Shut up. Watch closely.”
"Yes."
The “1” vanished instantly. She had read it.
You have acquired 1530 System Points.
Ayeong had completely lost it. A satisfied smile tugged at my lips, and the hologram asked again.
"How… did you do that?"
“Shut up, Jarvis.”
The only decent thing you’ve ever done is bring me to this place. Remember that.