Cherry Blossom Confession and the Frozen Gaze
The suffocatingly long mandatory major class finally ends with the ringing of the bell. The moment the professor steps out of the lecture hall, my classmates—who would normally scramble to escape—sit frozen in their seats, all stealing glances around as if by prior agreement. Their eyes are fixed on one spot: me, casually packing my textbook into my bag at the center front seat.
"……."
No one dares approach me or act like they know me. Ever since the café incident last week, the massive crown labeled 'Taesung Group VVIP' has been placed on my head, creating an invisible wall that no ordinary college student can breach. I can only hear their whispers and sidelong glances swirling around me.
Just a week ago, I was the dirt-poor returnee student agonizing over a thousand-won difference in cafeteria prices, surviving on convenience store triangle kimbap, treated like I was invisible. Now, I'm the campus legend drawing reverent stares just by walking. And all because of my girlfriend, the Strategy Planning Director ranked fifth in the business world, who loves me to the point of madness.
Life really is unpredictable.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and stroll out leisurely, leaving the heavy silence of the lecture hall behind. As I walk down the hallway, students part like the Red Sea. Breathing in the warm spring breeze on campus as I step outside the building, my pocket buzzes with a short vibration.
I pull out my smartphone and check the screen—a tender smile spreads across my face unbidden.
"So cute."
She was probably just yelling at dozens of executives with an icy face, but her message to me drips with aegyo.
I stop and immediately type a reply.
Yeah, just ended. How's the meeting? You eat lunch?
Just reading the text, I can picture the director's chilling expression full of fury—and then her cute pouty face in front of me. I chuckle.
I pocket my phone after closing the chat and stretch lightly. The sunny noon campus is a perfect spring scene with cherry blossoms fluttering. Planning to kill time until Seol-ah arrives, I head to a quiet bench under the cherry trees in front of the central library.
Warm sunlight filters through the leaves. I cross my legs on the bench, lean back, and the cozy rays envelop me. I pull out the insulated tumbler Seol-ah packed this morning from my bag. I stroke the cute white bunny sticker—like her—and open the lid. The fragrant aroma of still-warm Earl Grey tickles my nose. Nibbling a sweet handmade macaron, I close my eyes and savor this perfect Monday leisure.
Money really is great.
I recall my past self, always chased by part-time jobs, no time for campus romance, hesitating even over a canned coffee. This peace—basking in sunlight with premium tea—feels overwhelmingly precious now.
Then—
Crinkle, crinkle.
Footsteps approach the quiet bench cautiously. Eyes closed, I assume it's just a passing student and shift my posture. But the steps stop right in front of my bench.
And a light, fresh peach perfume—not Seol-ah's heavy, elegant scent—wafts over.
"Um... Sunbae-nim, Kang Jinwoo."
A timid, delicate voice. I slowly open my eyes and look up.
Before me stands a female student clutching her hands behind her back, face tense with nerves, looking down at me. Business Department sophomore, Lee Yujin. The famous junior who snatched the 'Business School Goddess' title upon enrollment with her idol-like innocent beauty and bubbly personality—known to everyone in the department. Someone who'd never even glance at a dirt-poor loner returnee like me.
"Uh... Yujin? What brings you here?"
At my flustered question, Yujin's face flushes red like a ripe apple, biting her lip. She's dressed up extra today in a white dress and styled thick waves. Spring breeze tousles her thin hair. Her big eyes waver anxiously, then fix on me with resolve.
Her voice trembles like spring wind, laced with strange desperation. I grip the tumbler tighter, clueless about this situation. Is she suddenly acting friendly now that I've got some shine?
"So? What do you want to say to me?"
I draw a cold, dry line. She takes a deep breath, thrusts her hidden hands forward.
In her small hands: a pale pink envelope and a ribbon-wrapped box of handmade chocolates.
My brain freezes. Letter? Chocolates?
"Sunbae-nim!"
As warm spring breeze scatters cherry blossoms between us, Yujin squeezes her eyes shut and shouts.
"Actually, since I first saw you in my freshman year... I've been watching you all along!"
"......Huh?"
"Seeing you study late in the library every night, nosebleed-level focus, working diligently at the convenience store during free periods... I secretly liked you so much all by myself."
Caught off guard by the confession, my mouth hangs open, frozen. The Business School Goddess is confessing to me? Not now, glamorous with my chaebol girlfriend, but back in my poorest, most pathetic dirt-poor days?
Yujin seems oblivious to who I'm dating or the massive Taesung Group behind me. Her face burning, she thrusts the letter and chocolates forward. Her hands tremble pitifully.
"Sunbae-nim, I really like you. Won't you... go out with me?"
Sunny noon on campus. Fluttering cherry blossoms. Before me, the teary-eyed goddess junior shyly confesses her long crush. Perfect angle for a fresh youth movie.
Seol-ah's recent chat flashes in my mind.
[Firm and merciless iron wall. I'll spread the word far and wide that my eyes see only Han Seol-ah.]
I swallow dryly, frantically searching my brain for the safest words to resolve this without hurting Yujin—while making clear I have a girlfriend more precious than life.
As I slowly open my mouth for a polite rejection—
Click-clack—
The warm spring breeze freezes instantly. From beyond the cherry tree shadows comes a chillingly familiar, heavy heel click.
"……."
Yujin's light peach scent vanishes; overwhelming, suffocating luxury perfume overtakes it.
Looking over Yujin's shoulder blocking my view, my heart drops to my feet.
"Ah......"
She said the meeting would run long, 30 minutes late—did she abandon it mid-way and helicopter in? There she stands, dead center in my vision.
Impeccable black suit. Sharp eyes. Han Seol-ah.
She stops exactly five meters away, alternating glances between Yujin's back—holding out letter and chocolates to me—and my frozen face on the bench.
Her beautiful face shows no expression. The loving girlfriend spamming hearts in chat is gone.
Like spotting a disgusting bug on the street, her eyes chill to absolute zero—cold and cruel.
The moment that gaze turns to me, I know instinctively.
A blood storm is about to hit this peaceful campus.