What, Give Her Back
The person standing right in front of me is Lee Chae-yeon.
From back when we were kids. The same girl who used to hang out with guys without a second thought, never once considering herself different because she was a girl.
That Lee Chae-yeon.
Yet…
What is that stiff, awkward greeting she’s struggling to push out?
My mind went blank, unsure how to react, so I figured the safest move was to return the greeting first.
“Uh, yeah. Hey.”
Even bumping into a teacher on the street wouldn’t feel this awkward.
Chae-yeon glanced around and scratched her cheek. I knew exactly what that gesture meant, so I followed her lead and checked our surroundings too.
Why is Mom taking so long in the bathroom? And why is Aunt still on that call?
If this wasn’t planned, how did the timing line up so perfectly?
“Congrats on getting into college.”
“Y-yeah. Thanks. I actually made it.”
“Must’ve been rough doing samsu while dealing with your health.”
“Tell me about it. Felt like I went through every kind of hardship there is.”
Normally this would be the part where I downplay it and say it wasn’t that bad, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie. Sitting at a desk for two years with a body that wasn’t like everyone else’s had been pure hell. The worst suffering I’d ever gone through in my life.
Not eating properly. Missing classes for hospital visits. Wasting entire days when my body gave out.
God, I don’t even want to think about it.
“I struggled a lot during my own samsu too.”
“Yeah, you must’ve had it rough as well.”
Chae-yeon and I had attended the same hagwon for our second attempt at the CSAT, but we’d never once seen each other’s faces. The boys’ and girls’ buildings were separate, and even our lunch times were staggered, so running into each other would’ve been like plucking stars from the sky.
Maybe because we’d both endured the same brutal grind before finally making it to university, our conversation naturally drifted toward college life.
“How’s school? Manageable?”
“Yeah. Not too bad so far. Maybe because I’m still a freshman. You probably have a ton on your plate, though?”
“Yeah, I do. I have to relearn all the hanja I only did up through elementary school. Plus the sheer volume of major coursework.”
“So while med students memorize English, Oriental Medicine students memorize hanja, huh.”
“And our school doesn’t even have course registration. They just assign everything for us.”
“Wait, really?! That’s kind of fascinating.”
Since my own college life was still pretty limited, hearing about someone else’s experience was surprisingly enjoyable.
While reaching for my spoon and chopsticks, my hand brushed against Chae-yeon’s—she must’ve been reaching for hers at the same time. She flinched at the contact and quickly pulled back, leaving everything to me.
Another scene I never could’ve predicted.
The person sitting across from me is Lee Chae-yeon, but she doesn’t feel like Lee Chae-yeon at all.
What the hell—give her back. Where did the Chae-yeon I knew disappear to?
“How’s your body been lately? I was shocked when Aunt told me you had surgery.”
“It’s a lot better now. Still acts up sometimes, but way improved compared to before.”
“You had three surgeries, right?”
“Yeah. The first one had complications, so I needed a second. Then a third for reconstruction.”
“That must’ve been brutal.”
The stiff, awkward conversation dragged on until Mom and Aunt finally returned. Their timing was suspiciously perfect. They’d come from different places, yet it felt like they’d coordinated the whole thing.
“Should we order now? Jung-woo, what do you want?”
“I’ll have the cold naengmyeon.”
“Chae-yeon?”
“Same for me.”
“Then two cold naengmyeon, two warm naengmyeon, and one plate of buckwheat jeonbyeong.”
Even though the atmosphere was awkward, it didn’t feel uncomfortable like meeting a stranger. Maybe because that old sense of closeness was still there, quietly building up.
“Jung-woo, you still have Chae-yeon’s number, right?”
“What?! I don’t think so?”
“What are you talking about? You two exchanged numbers the last time you met.”
“Huh?! Really? Hold on, let me check.”
We’d only talked for a few minutes before parting ways that day. There was no way we’d exchanged numbers…
Wait, it’s actually there? Why is it there?
Contrary to my expectations, Chae-yeon’s number was clearly saved in my phone.
“Son, even if you’re not interested, that’s a bit much.”
“N-no, I don’t remember saving it.”
“Chae-yeon must’ve been hurt.”
I glanced at Chae-yeon, half-expecting the worst. She gave me a light smile and waved it off like it was nothing. But beneath that smile, I thought I caught the faintest trace of loneliness.
Yeah… I definitely messed up somewhere.
After the surgeries, I’d developed the habit of cleanly forgetting anything that wasn’t directly related to me or important to me. This was probably another case of that habit at work. Since there’d been no reason to contact her, I’d just forgotten the number existed.
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. These things happen.”
I didn’t actually feel sorry, but the mood demanded I say something.
“Wow, listen to my son actually apologizing.”
“Mom, if you say it like that, what does that make me?”
“You never say sorry to family either.”
“That’s… true. But there’s no need to say it for stuff like that.”
“You won’t even say things you don’t mean.”
“Auntie, I think I’m turning into actual trash at this point.”
Unable to empathize with other people’s feelings and completely incapable of saying things I don’t mean—that’s who I am now. I’ve changed a lot from before.
“Jung-woo seems so grown up. I don’t see that little kid anymore.”
“What are you talking about? He’s still just a kid. Same as ever.”
“No, he’s really different. Right, Chae-yeon?”
“Huh? Uh, yeah. He does seem a lot different.”
Considering how opposite I used to be, it made sense that people would notice the change. If even I could feel it, everyone else must see it even more clearly.
While eating the noodles, my eyes kept drifting back to Chae-yeon. Her completely different appearance refused to let me look away. Whenever she seemed like she might notice, I’d stare at my food instead. The moment she looked distracted, I’d glance up again.
Staring at someone like this was rude, but what could I do? She was just so different from before.
“Mom, I’m going to the bathroom.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Still going to the bathroom a lot?”
“Turns out not having a large intestine is a bigger deal than I thought. That part hasn’t changed at all.”
Without a large intestine, eating anything meant multiple trips to the bathroom. I hesitated to mention it—felt like airing out my own flaws—but Aunt already knew more about my body than most people outside the family.
After a few bathroom visits, we decided it was safe to move to a café.
“Jung-woo, you’re way too skinny. How much do you weigh right now?”
“Sixty kilos. I just don’t gain weight.”
“Goodness, you’re so thin. So thin.”
“I’m a little jealous of that.”
Chae-yeon’s casual reply caught me off guard. She looked genuinely envious. Then again, anyone would envy a body that struggles to gain weight. Legs and a waist thinner than most girls’. Honestly, seeing it always gave me a weird sense of self-loathing. Chae-yeon was probably reacting for the same reason.
Mom and Aunt left together to order drinks. One person could’ve handled it easily, so why go together?
Since Chae-yeon had broken the silence earlier, I figured it was my turn this time.
“We used to be close as kids, but now it feels awkward seeing each other again.”
“I guess that’s inevitable. We didn’t keep in touch at all.”
“It feels like making a brand-new friend.”
“Let’s stay in touch more from now on.”
Honestly, that promise was hard to make. Staying consistent with communication was one of the hardest things for me. Still, I wanted to try my best with Chae-yeon. This was a chance to get to know the Chae-yeon in front of me now, not the one from childhood, so I wanted to hold onto it.
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Once Mom and Aunt returned, our private conversation ended. From then on, I mostly just nodded along like I had at the noodle shop.
Every time she tucked her hair behind her ear, the small gold earring caught my eye. I didn’t know why, but that tiny detail refused to leave my mind.
“Should we get going?”
“Yeah. We can always meet again.”
What had seemed like it would be a proper reunion ended without any meaningful conversation. If I’d been a little more sociable, maybe it could’ve turned into something better.
“Jung-woo, it was nice seeing you after so long. Let’s meet again soon.”
“Yes, Aunt. Take care.”
“See you.”
“Yeah. You too.”
This wasn’t even like saying goodbye to a friend I’d just met on transfer day—how were we supposed to handle this painfully awkward parting?
On the walk home from the café, Mom and I kept talking about Chae-yeon.
“What do you think of Chae-yeon?”
“She’s changed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”
“Didn’t she get really pretty?”
“Well…”
“She did, right?”
“Mom, can’t you just take the hint?”
“Say it properly. Come on?”
“Haah… Yeah, she’s pretty. Way prettier than before. No comparison.”
If we ever met again, I hoped it would feel different from today.
Rebuilding that closeness was probably going to take quite a while.