The Moon is Pretty
The outdoor table in front of the convenience store was quiet. It was late, and hardly any cars passed by on the road.
A sharp hiss rose as carbonation fizzed from the can. Juyeon lifted hers toward Su-hyeok.
“...Cheers.”
“Clink.”
The aluminum cans met with a dull thud. Su-hyeok took a long sip of beer, then tilted his head back to gaze at the sky. It had been a long time since he’d seen the moon so perfectly round.
“The moon is pretty.”
It was a simple, honest observation, but Juyeon’s fingers fidgeted through her hair. She wasn’t sure whether Su-hyeok knew, but in Japan, calling the moon beautiful was a classic, time-honored confession line.
“...Yeah. It really is.”
Juyeon lifted her own gaze and stared at the moon. The full moon hung in the sky like something drawn with a compass—flawless in its shape.
“The response was good this time. Are you going to stream again?”
“Probably?”
“But if you keep going that long, I don’t think I’ll be able to watch until the end every single time.”
No matter how much she loved her hobby, spending five or six hours a day on it felt like a burden.
“It’s fine. Just having you help at all is already huge.”
This was something Su-hyeok was doing purely out of kindness. Juyeon had no intention of burdening him with more than that.
“...Juyeon.”
“Yeah?”
“What if your stream got a thousand viewers? How would that feel?”
A thousand viewers. The number would mean growing her current average of roughly twenty people by more than twenty times. Still, a thousand viewers wasn’t unrealistic. Successful streamers regularly pulled in thousands—sometimes even tens of thousands.
“...It would feel pretty overwhelming, I think?”
Su-hyeok let out a small chuckle at her answer. He had hoped for something more hopeful. At the same time, he could completely understand why she felt that way.
“But you’ve imagined it before, haven’t you?”
People who spent a lot of time alone often fell into daydreams. Juyeon was no exception. She had pictured ‘Yeoni’ becoming a massive star more times than she could count.
“I’d make a lot of money, right? Donations would probably be insane.”
“I suppose so?”
“Then… I’d probably save almost all of it.”
“Not spend any?”
Juyeon nodded, taking another sip of beer.
“I have to save as much as I can so I can avoid getting a real job later…”
The thing Juyeon feared most was the upcoming job-hunting season. No matter where you worked, every company required communication with others. The people who currently talked with her and got along with her were all kind and supportive. Even inside that warm, sheltered space she struggled. Stepping into the cold, indifferent corporate world would feel like a death sentence.
“True. So maybe becoming a full-time streamer is the dream?”
“But you know it’s realistically impossible.”
Nothing in the world was truly absolute, but probability was very real. In that sense, the odds of someone with Juyeon’s personality becoming a star were extremely low.
“It’s hard.”
“Sigh… It would be nice if I could talk in front of other people the way I’m talking with you right now.”
She wished everyone could be as easy to talk to as Su-hyeok. No stuttering. No pressure. Just casual conversation about everyday things.
“Yeah. I wish I could talk to everyone the way I talk to you.”
It wasn’t only Juyeon who felt that regret. Su-hyeok felt the same—if he could speak this comfortably in front of others, he’d have no other wishes.
“…What about in front of the person you like?”
Juyeon asked carefully. It was a sensitive subject, but something about the moment made her feel it was okay to ask.
“In front of her?”
Explaining to Juyeon how he acted around Hana… the whole situation felt oddly comical to Su-hyeok.
“Um… I don’t completely freeze up, but I watch her reactions a lot.”
“You know how it is—when she seems upset but you have no idea why.”
“Or wondering whether it’s okay to say something, worrying I might be misunderstanding.”
Juyeon gripped the can with both hands and stole a quick glance at Su-hyeok’s face. It carried too much worry to be the face of someone simply thinking about the girl he liked. If anything, it looked closer to guilt.
“Just being next to her makes me realize how lacking I am. She doesn’t even say anything to me.”
“…That’s not true.”
Juyeon cut him off.
“Huh?”
“You’re not lacking.”
She didn’t know who the girl Su-hyeok liked was, but she refused to let the person who always supported her speak about himself that way.
“Su-hyeok, you’re a good person.”
A breeze swept past, rustling their hair. Juyeon’s short dark-brown bob fluttered along the wind’s path before settling back into place.
Su-hyeok met her eyes. She didn’t look away. Instead she held his gaze steadily, as if to prove her words were true.
“…Th-thank you.”
He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His cheeks felt warm. Being told he was a good person right to his face was embarrassingly direct. Su-hyeok, who almost never stuttered in front of Juyeon, awkwardly scratched the back of his head like he had during their very first meeting.
“I won’t give you some irresponsible advice like ‘Just take courage and confess,’ but—”
Juyeon took another sip of beer. The cold fizz tickled her throat.
“—that doesn’t mean you have any reason to think badly of yourself. Okay, Su-hyeok?”
She could say it because she was so much like him. She could offer the advice because she understood exactly what he was thinking.
Su-hyeok listened quietly, then gave a gentle smile.
“You’re right. I think what you said makes sense.”
Silence settled between them. Juyeon replayed her own words and felt a rush of embarrassment. She scrambled for something to change the mood.
“I-I’ll drink with you if you confess and get rejected…!”
Su-hyeok clutched his head at the image. He could already picture himself sobbing after being turned down by Hana and clinking glasses with Juyeon. No. That absolutely could not happen.
“…No. I don’t think that’ll happen.”
“…Forget I offered, then.”
The beer cans grew lighter as time passed. True to their promise, they each drank only one and called it a night.
Su-hyeok walked Juyeon all the way home and wished her goodnight. Once he saw her safely inside, he turned and trudged down the alley.
“A good person, huh…”
She had probably just said it to encourage him. Even so, the words resonated in a way he couldn’t dislike. A pleasant smile lingered on Su-hyeok’s lips.
It felt like a night when he might actually sleep well.
Friday arrived. The day of behavioral economics class.
After skipping their team project because of exams and the festival, it was finally time to face it again. All through brushing his teeth, Su-hyeok couldn’t shake thoughts of Nayeong.
Was that really her that day?
There had been no contact afterward, no reaction at all. Maybe he had simply mistaken her for someone else. It would be easier if that were the case.
After washing his face, Su-hyeok grabbed his bag and left the house.
He arrived earlier than expected. The first thing he did was scan the classroom for his group members. He prayed he wouldn’t end up alone with Nayeong… but his bad feelings were rarely wrong.
“Su-hyeok.”
The voice came from behind him. There was no escape now.
“…Hey.”
Su-hyeok forced an awkward smile and swallowed hard.
“Why are you just standing here? Looking for the others?”
Nayeong stepped up beside him with a bright smile in her eyes.
“Ah… yeah.”
“Looks like Juyeon and Juho aren’t here yet. Let’s go sit down by ourselves.”
“Okay.”
They chose seats at a desk fairly far from the projector screen. Su-hyeok pulled out his phone as a silent refusal to talk. He was just about to text Juyeon asking where she was when—
“…I saw the performance.”
His thumb froze mid-motion.
“It was really cool, Su-hyeok.”
Her movements seemed stiff, like a broken doll. Through the curtain of her bangs, Su-hyeok could see Nayeong’s face but couldn’t read her intentions. What exactly was she trying to do?
“I thought it was good enough to watch again.”
“…Thanks.”
She had still been one of the people who filled the audience that day. At the very least, gratitude seemed like the right response.
He thought that would be the end of it, but…
“Watching you on that stage, I finally realized something.”
“Realized what?”
The words that left Nayeong’s mouth sounded like nothing but a lie.
“That I liked you.”
The bread bag slipped from Juyeon’s hand and fell to the floor with a soft thud.