Misunderstanding
"Ugh… I'm late… How long has it been since I slept this deeply."
Seorin gathered up her bag and stepped out of the house.
It felt like the first time in ages that she'd truly slept well. Ever since starting life as a civil service exam prep student—maybe from sitting all day long—there had been so many nights she couldn't get proper rest. But last night, at least, she had slept soundly.
"Maybe… thanks to Ijun."
She muttered it as she passed through the front gate. The late-night movie screening was one reason, sure. But more than that, it seemed to be because she'd been held in his arms. The relief and comfort she'd felt then had carried all the way into bed.
…Or was it because she'd fallen asleep holding the rabbit plush that Rabielbaragi had gifted her. Hugging that stuffed animal, the memory of being wrapped in Ijun's arms had come flooding back, and at first her heart had raced—then her whole body had settled into ease, and she'd drifted into deep sleep.
She knew now. That the person who had sent her that gift was Ijun as well.
"Heh. Heheheh. Eheheh."
A laugh slipped out before she could stop it. She couldn't keep the smile from her lips whenever she thought of him. And the things that had happened with him yesterday—touching hands, holding each other, that back hug before she left—remembering any of it made her feel shy as a schoolgirl.
…They say the world changes when you fall in love. One of her favorite songs had a lyric that went, When I look at you, the world turns pink. She'd never related to it before. Now she finally understood what it meant.
For her—someone who'd given up her dreams and chosen reality—the civil service grind she had no choice but to endure had been nearly colorless. Her days had felt less like living and more like simply enduring so she wouldn't wear herself down to nothing. But ever since meeting Ijun, it was as if color had started seeping back into that gray routine. And even more so after learning he was Rabielbaragi.
"Ijun's probably already there."
Since she'd left a little late, he was sure to be at the café already. The thought of seeing him lifted her spirits, and she set off toward the café with a spring in her step.
Then, the moment she reached the street in front of the café, she spotted Ijun in the distance—and stopped cold.
"That's Ijun… right?"
She wasn't bad at recognizing people. Good genes, maybe—her eyesight was sharp enough that she could usually pick someone out from far away without trouble. But today, she couldn't be sure it was him.
No. That wasn't it. It was more accurate to say she didn't want to be sure.
Because.
"But who's that woman… standing so close to Ijun like that…"
Because the café he always came to alone, he'd arrived at with a woman Seorin had never seen before.
Far ahead, the two of them stood outside the entrance, laughing and chatting side by side—and when the woman tried to link arms with him, Ijun gently pushed her away. At that single gesture, Seorin's mood plummeted straight through the floor. Like a cloud that had been floating high overhead suddenly collapsing and crashing to earth.
…What even is that. What kind of relationship do those two have. Just casually linking arms.
Looking at the way the woman moved, it didn't seem like the first or second time she'd done it. And the problem was Ijun—even as he pushed her off, he didn't look like he particularly minded. On the surface it looked like rejection, but it wasn't a genuine refusal. It felt more like the playful bickering of a guy and a girl who'd been close for years.
…This needed verifying.
She quickened her pace and shifted to a spot with a clear view of them both. Then she watched them head inside the café and followed after them.
There was no need to jump to conclusions. Maybe she'd seen wrong. Maybe it wasn't even Ijun. Besides—this was the same Ijun who'd done those things with her only yesterday. The one who'd first told her he was a lifelong single. The one who'd made the first move, expressing interest in her. She didn't believe he would openly pull something like this.
But even as she told herself that—
"Ugh…"
Her head grew rapidly hot, and her chest felt tight and stuffy. A nameless anxiety crept over her, and the thought slipped in unbidden: what if she'd been played?
Come to think of it, Ijun had approached her far too easily. He'd been strangely proactive, strangely honest. And looking back now, every line out of his mouth had been the kind that went straight through a woman's heart. Lines far too smooth for someone claiming to be a lifelong single.
A conversation from college floated up—something an older sister had once told her.
"Seorin."
"Yeah?"
"You know what? Moderately good-looking guys are more dangerous than the drop-dead gorgeous ones."
"What are you talking about?"
"The super handsome ones don't cheat as much as you'd think. You know—the manhwa-male-lead types."
"Really? Wouldn't those guys be the ones who cheat more?"
"No. They know. They know that because they're so good-looking, women flock to them and their girlfriends might get suspicious. So they're careful."
"And?"
"But the moderately good-looking ones. Guys who are a bit above average."
"Yeah."
"Those guys are the most dangerous. They can act like they only have eyes for you while seeing other women behind your back, and nobody would find it strange. They don't even get suspected."
"Ah."
"Plus if a guy's too handsome, it's a burden from the woman's side too, you know? But if he's just decently good-looking, women can meet him more comfortably. So it's easier for them to approach the opposite sex as well."
"But how do you know all this so well, unni?"
"How else. Take it from experience and carve it into your brain."
Why was that conversation coming back to her now—watching moderately good-looking Ijun walk into the café with another woman. Recalling those words only made the anxiety surge harder. She wanted to run over to him right then and demand who that woman was.
…Hold it. I have to hold it here.
But she held back and tailed the two of them, keeping a careful distance, deciding to watch what they did. If this was all just her imagination, barging out now would only make things awkward. Of course she didn't think Ijun would do that. But if there was even a one percent chance that things were exactly as she imagined—then there was no harm in waiting until she'd witnessed decisive evidence before stepping forward.
…No—what relationship did she even have with Ijun to go out there and confront him. At best they'd eaten together a few times and watched Rabiel videos side by side. She wasn't his girlfriend. They certainly weren't married. In a situation like this, even if he had started seeing someone else, it might be weirder for her to say anything about it.
Or wait—was he even seeing another woman? Maybe she was the other woman.
Complicated thoughts whirled through her head until she felt dizzy, and she decided to simply watch them for now.
"…ka?"
"…ji?"
They were too far away for her to catch what they were saying. But from a distance she could see them standing side by side at the kiosk, picking out food—then linking arms again. They collected their food and drinks, went up to the second floor, sat down side by side at the usual fixed seats, and laughed as they chatted for a while.
And then the woman speared some salad on a fork and held it up to Ijun's mouth. Ijun quietly accepted the bite—and even looked at her as if she were adorable.
Thud.
Watching the woman then playfully pat Ijun's arm, Seorin felt the strength leave her legs and sank down in a corner of the second-floor stairwell.
…This was confirmed, wasn't it. There was no denying it anymore.
Frustration and a sense of betrayal washed over her. Their playful yet unmistakably couple-like behavior left her no choice but to accept it. You couldn't act like that if you were just friends. And the woman across from him looked far too young to be "just a friend" anyway. Barely twenty, maybe. She'd put on slightly heavy makeup, but her baby face showed through plainly.
And the clothes. A leather jacket over a crop top. Short shorts paired with black fishnet stockings. Silver piercings studding her ears. Even from a woman's perspective, she looked like some model or celebrity—the contrast with Ijun, dressed casually in a sweatshirt and jeans, almost jarring.
Hiding behind the stairs, Seorin watched them a moment longer, then let out a sigh.
"What am I doing. This is so stupid."
Watching the two of them still flirting away, she felt pathetic about her own situation. So distracted by a guy that she couldn't study—reduced to skulking around spying on him from behind. Not cool at all. It was like some tragic-heroine setup out of a drama, and she hated that kind of character. The type who pitied themselves and wallowed in their own misery. That helped no one—not yourself, not the people around you.
"I'll just pretend I don't know. Yeah. Nothing happened. Just…"
Seorin wanted to act like she'd never seen any of this. She had no desire to march over there, grab him by the collar, and demand what the hell he thought he was doing. If he was that kind of man, she just needed to put distance between them. Treat everything that had happened so far as if it never existed, and go back to her ordinary life. That was all.
For a moment she considered going home to study today, or switching cafés—but even that felt like a blow to her pride.
"…Why should I be the one to avoid him? I didn't do anything wrong."
If someone needed to move, let it be them. In moments like this, she needed to hold her head high. She hadn't done anything wrong. If there was any fault to assign, it was only that she'd trusted him too easily.
Furious, Seorin went downstairs, ordered a drink, and walked back up to the second floor with her head held high—without so much as glancing in Ijun's direction, as if in some form of revenge. And she resolved to sit in her usual seat and study as if nothing had happened.
…Yeah. This is the right way. Let's see if I even care.
Just then she felt Ijun's gaze flick over in her direction. Normally she would have met his eyes, smiled, and exchanged a greeting—but instead she buried her face in her tablet, keeping her gaze down. Resolving that today, no matter what, she would not look him in the eye.