Seatmates
After parting ways with Jia and stepping into the lecture hall alone, I found many students already seated, preparing for class. As I headed toward an empty seat, I swept my gaze around the room — and sure enough, there wasn't a single familiar face.
The classmates I'd been reasonably close with during my first year had likely all graduated by now, and even those who hadn't had mostly let their connections lapse, thanks to the years I'd squandered because of Jia. Having no expectations to begin with, I simply set my bag down and took a seat at the vacant desk.
The tiered lecture hall seated three people per table — an awkward arrangement for a loner like me. The students around me glanced over to see if they recognized my face, and once they concluded they didn't, they lost interest. For my part, I had no particular desire to strike up conversation with anyone either, so I paid them no mind.
I'd just casually pulled out my wireless earphones, planning to watch a video until class started, when—
"Is this seat taken?"
At the voice, I lowered the earphones I'd been about to insert and turned toward the sound.
It was a boyish young woman with short brown hair that barely brushed the nape of her neck. Boyish, yes, but it didn't seem like she was deliberately going for a masculine look — the short hair had simply lent her that sort of air. Her eyes, whether from colored contacts or not, shone with a striking light gray.
She wore a gray jacket with the sleeves slightly rolled up, a white T-shirt underneath, and jeans in a middling saturation — neither too dark nor too light. With her mature vibe, she brought to mind a capable career woman, the trendy type who seemed like she'd handle work with ease.
Her looks weren't at the level of commanding everyone's attention the way Jia's did, but she was pretty enough that no man would have complained. She'd no doubt received her fair share of admiring glances and advances from men, drawn to that expensive-looking maturity of hers.
After this rapid assessment of a woman who seemed like she'd take everything the world threw at her with cool indifference, I answered.
"Sure."
She gave a grateful little smile and took the seat beside me.
"How old are you?"
As she settled in and pulled out her textbook, she asked in a friendly voice.
"Twenty-five."
"Oh, we're the same age. Mind if I drop the formalities?"
She turned her head toward me, flashed a bright smile, and asked in a tone that kept the distance comfortable and small.
Meanwhile, the word same age caught me slightly off guard.
I was a man, after all — I'd served in the military and taken several years off because of Jia. But it wasn't common for a woman to be a twenty-five-year-old college sophomore. Of course, women did sometimes attend university until a relatively late age for reasons like retaking entrance exams or transferring, but honestly, it was rarer than with men.
"Go ahead."
Pushing up my glasses, I felt my voice take on a liveliness I hadn't intended. It wasn't in my nature to reach out and befriend people first, but I wasn't the kind of wreck who shoved away connections that came to me either. Maybe, deep down, I'd been wishing for a friend to share the next few years of campus life with.
"I'm Lee Siwoo. Nice to meet you."
When the woman — Siwoo — offered a handshake, a rarity these days, I stared at her outstretched hand like it was some object I'd never seen before, then took it.
"Yoon Dohyun."
Releasing my hand, Siwoo propped her chin on one hand and flashed me a wry smile.
"I'm guessing there's a story there?"
Seeing a twenty-five-year-old sophomore like me, she seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion I had.
"Something like that. You're in the same boat, aren't you?"
"Yep. My relationship blew up in spectacular fashion and I ended up coming back late."
As Siwoo let out a long sigh and waved her left arm, the thin chain-link gold bracelet on her wrist swayed along with it. When my eyes were drawn to the glinting chain, she seemed to notice, and smiled ruefully.
"It was a gift from my ex. The object itself is innocent, right?"
Watching her shrug and brush it off so casually, I confirmed what I'd suspected — she really was the cool type. Telling a total stranger her personal circumstances showed she was candid, but it didn't feel like something she'd blurted out without thought. If anything, she seemed to size people up before deciding what to share — which, read the other way, meant she didn't think badly of me.
"Hello there!"
"Oh, a handsome hyung and a pretty noona! Annyeonghashimnikkwah!"
A moment later, a young man and woman took the seats in front of us and turned around to greet us both. Their faces were completely new to me, so I rolled my eyes over to Siwoo, who gave a minute shake of her head — she didn't know them either.
So they'd just come up and greeted us first, unprompted.
Intrigued by this proactive gesture — my first real human connection in ages — I returned the greeting.
"Hello."
Unlike me, Siwoo skipped the words entirely, just smiling and giving a friendly wave.
The pair seated before us still hadn't quite shed that fresh, green freshman glow. Maybe Siwoo felt the same, because she rested her chin on one hand and watched the two of them with an expression both fond and amused.
"You two are the returning students, right?"
The girl looked at Siwoo first, then me, and asked carefully. Before answering, I took a quick measure of her.
Her black hair, which looked like it would fall to the middle of her back, was pinned up neatly with a hair clamp, leaving the line of her neck elegantly exposed. She wore a mini dress that ended above the knees, slightly loose-fitting, with a floral pattern embroidered over a sky-blue base.
There was nothing sharp or striking about her features — she had a mild, unassuming sort of prettiness. But her soft voice and that natural smile, the kind that just looking at it lifted your mood, seemed like they'd hold real appeal for the opposite sex.
Overall, she radiated a gentle, good-girl image, and gave off the sense of someone who liked dressing and acting feminine.
"That's right. We're twenty-five. I had my reasons for coming back a little late. And..."
Siwoo answered, then passed the conversational baton to me with a glance.
"Same for me."
"Wow, you really are oppa... In first year everyone was our age, but now that we're in second year, it feels like a lot of older students have joined us."
The girl pressed her palms together, her eyes sparkling, then looked over at the guy beside her as if seeking agreement. The man, apparently worked up by the attention, clenched his fists and spoke with flushed enthusiasm.
"Back when I was in the military, I kept hoping I'd meet a noona and a hyung like you two at university — and now that it's actually happened, my heart is just swelling!"
This time I sized up the man. He had ash-gray dyed hair in a two-block cut and was wearing a varsity jacket. Judging by his unhesitating manner of speech and the way he closed distance without embarrassment, he seemed like an easygoing, unpretentious sort.
He struck me as the type who, in a junior's position, would attentively and deferentially look after his elders — a little lacking in polish, perhaps, but not a fool, which was probably why he came across as likable rather than annoying.
"Didn't you meet any seniors at the membership training?"
"Oh, I did, but... there wasn't much interaction outside of that. And please, speak comfortably with me, hyung! You too, noona! Oh, and we're both twenty-one — we're classmates! I'm Shin Wooshin. The girl sitting here is..."
"I should say this in case you two misunderstand — she's my female friend, plain and simple. We're not dating. It's a bit unusual, actually — we're the same age and classmates, but we still don't drop formalities with each other. My name is Lee Hanbyeol."
When I asked, Wooshin — younger than me, as expected — answered first, and then Hanbyeol followed up with a smile directed at me.
"Got it. I'm Yoon Dohyun. Looking forward to it."
"I'm Lee Siwoo. Nice to meet you, kids."
Where I answered with proper courtesy, Siwoo greeted them warmly, gazing at the pair the way one might watch a couple of adorable puppies. Hanbyeol responded to her with a smile, while Wooshin — only now taking a close look at Siwoo's appearance — went on staring at her like he'd been entranced.
Screeech!
Just as we were about to get properly acquainted, a woman shoved open the lecture hall's sliding door and strode inside. Her eyes darted quickly around the room, and finding no decent seat left thanks to her late arrival, she furrowed her brow, marched straight over to the desk where Siwoo sat, and asked:
"Can I sit here?"
There was a surface attempt at politeness in her phrasing, but the woman's expression and tone were disagreeable, as if she were irked by the whole situation.
"Sure."
"Go ahead."
When Siwoo and I both answered, the woman said nothing more, immediately set her bag down, and took the seat on Siwoo's other side. Since each table seated three, our desk was now filled to capacity.
Wordlessly, she pulled her writing tools and books out of her bag and dumped them unceremoniously onto the desk, then abruptly turned her head and addressed the two of us.
"You're the returning students, aren't you?"
"Looks that way?"
"Yes."
In contrast to how she'd handled the freshmen moments ago, Siwoo replied with listless indifference, and I answered with a grunt.
"Let's get along, then. I'm a returning student too. I'm twenty-four."
"Twenty-five."
"Same here."
She seemed mildly surprised to learn we were older than her — and stared at me in particular, as if I were the unexpected one. Then her gaze began to shift into something strange and unfathomable. It was the look of someone trying to recall something they already knew, and a vague unease stirred in me.
Did I know her?
I raked through my memory, but no matching face surfaced.
"So you're unnie and oppa, then."
Whether she'd dismissed whatever thought had come to her, the woman let the strange expression fall away — and then suddenly scrunched her face as if her pride had been wounded, before rapidly assembling a practiced smile in its place.
"One year's hardly enough to..."
"Right, then. I'm Lee Seohyun."
Before I could even finish speaking, the woman beamed and said it, as though she'd been waiting for exactly that opening. At her attitude, Siwoo let out a small scoff, pitched just low enough for only me to hear.
Her manner hadn't exactly endeared her to me either, so I couldn't say I formed a good first impression of her.
Her looks, however, were a different story — they were outstanding.
The front of her rippling jet-black hair was parted to both sides, neatly framing her exposed forehead. The permed waves, the fine texture of her hair, and her well-proportioned figure all made it clear she'd been diligently maintaining her appearance. Beneath her double-breasted houndstooth coat, black stockings with a faint sheen traced the slender lines of her legs, ending in black heels with a slight lift.
For clothes to wear to school, it was excessive for a college student — but considering her beauty and figure, I couldn't deny that the outfit suited her perfectly and made her stand out all the more. As much as I hated to admit it, appearance-wise she was the most striking person in the room.
With her haughty, untouchable air — the kind of woman you imagined had already left a trail of men behind her — she cast me a furtive sideways glance, somehow, and curled her lips into a meaningful smile.
Tap.
Rumble...
At the sound of something dropping near my feet, I glanced down to see a single pencil rolling across the floor. As I looked around, pencil in hand, searching for its owner, I heard someone let out a short, quiet ah.
Turning, I found a young woman in the back row looking straight at me. She wore a hat indoors and her oversized windbreaker concealed her figure, so I couldn't make out her features clearly — but from the way the room's attention settled, it was obvious whose pencil it was.
"Here you go."
"Thank you."
When I handed the pencil over, the woman received it politely with both hands, her eyes fixed on me, unblinking. Then her expression shifted — into a smile and a look that made me feel as though someone I knew was about to surface in her mind.
What was that about?
Baffled, I narrowed my eyes at her, but she only gave me one last lingering, enigmatic smile before withdrawing her gaze.
"Class will now begin."
The look and that smile left me feeling unsettled, and I was about to ask her what that was all about — but before I could, the professor, who had slipped into the hall at some point, put an end to the thought.