How Could I Walk Past Those Eyes
How was I supposed to just walk past eyes like that?
From a distance in the Academy lecture halls, Min Jiyeon had always been a perfect, arrogant presence. And now that same girl was standing in the rain with a face that looked like she had lost everything in the world.
Apparently the busybody in me had kicked in. It was obvious something unbearable had just exploded in her life.
The entire walk back to my room, she didn't say a single word. She simply matched my stride beneath the shelter of my umbrella, silent as a doll whose soul had slipped somewhere far away.
And that was when the thought hit me.
Wait.
What about underwear?
The realization came far too late. I'd tossed her a T-shirt and a pair of shorts for outer clothes, sure—but there was zero chance a guy's studio apartment stocked women's undergarments. Which meant she would inevitably have to step out wearing nothing but my oversized white T-shirt against bare skin.
The second my mind went there, my face burned.
Should I have run to a convenience store and bought her some women's underwear? I don't even know her size. Buying that would look weird as hell. Perfect way to get completely misunderstood.
Surely… she'll figure something out and come out dressed properly.
No other choice. I bit my lip and tried to console myself with that.
The water hammering against the bathroom floor cut off. A short stretch of time passed, and then the door opened.
The Min Jiyeon who walked out of the bathroom was more than I had pictured.
The clothes I'd handed her were, as expected, far too big. The neckline had slipped well down, laying her collarbones bare, and the hem of the oversized white T-shirt hung to mid-thigh, nearly swallowing the shorts entirely. The gray sweatpants rode low on her hip bones—she'd clearly yanked the drawstring as tight as it would go. Freshly washed straight black hair still held the scent and dampness of shampoo, blotting faint translucent patches into the white fabric of the shirt.
Every glittering accessory and scrap of makeup she wore at the Academy had been scrubbed away. Bare-faced like this, the plainness of her only made the beauty more unreal.
My gaze lost its footing and wandered. I turned my head slightly and cleared my throat.
"Ahem… clothes fit well enough. Good. Just be careful the pants don't slide down."
Min Jiyeon stood in the middle of the room, fiddling with the loose ends of the sleeves as she looked around my place.
"Yeah. A little big, but… it's surprisingly comfortable. Light."
"Glad to hear it. Don't just stand there staring. Come sit over here."
I opened the cabinet under the sink. The entire contents amounted to a few cheap cup ramens I'd bought a couple days ago.
"You haven't eaten dinner either, right? I don't have the time or money to keep real food around, so this is all I've got. Want some?"
"Yeah. Doesn't matter. I'm hungry, so give me anything."
At her answer I filled the electric kettle and set it to boil. Once the water rolled, I peeled back the lids of two cup ramens halfway and poured hot water up to the fill line. From deep in the fridge I pulled out a container of well-fermented, tangy kimchi and portioned some onto a small plate.
Four short, awkward minutes later, two steaming cups of ramen sat side by side on the little wooden floor table.
"Sit down and eat before it gets soggy."
Following my lead, Min Jiyeon carefully knelt opposite me. The posture still carried traces of the etiquette drilled into her by a chaebol household.
"This is my place, so you don't have to sit all stiff. Get comfortable."
Only then did she let her legs fold sideways into a looser position.
She snapped a pair of disposable wooden chopsticks in half, took them in hand, and stared blankly at the cup of ramen in front of her. For a young lady who had almost certainly never touched food this cheap in her life, her reaction was remarkably calm.
Slurp.
She was the first to gently lift a few strands of noodles and bring them to her mouth. The way she worked her small lips around the heat and swallowed was unexpectedly earnest. Next she picked up a piece of the kimchi I'd set out, laid it over the noodles, and ate. A soft breath escaped her lips.
"This is good."
"Glad it suits you. Figured a chaebol heiress's palate would find this infinitely beneath her."
At my teasing jab, Min Jiyeon rolled her eyes and shot me a look. Seeing a flicker of the old spark from the Academy return to those eyes, I felt a quiet relief settle in my chest.
"I'm a person too. When I'm hungry I'll eat ramen or anything else. Don't treat me like some hothouse flower."
"…My mistake. Eat plenty."
She answered and kept her chopsticks moving diligently. The body heat that had plummeted under the downpour finally began to thaw as the hot broth and noodles settled into her stomach. A faint, soft flush of color started to rise in cheeks that had been paper-white.
I poked at my own cup a few times and quietly continued the meal. But in the end, I had to ask the real question. I couldn't keep skating across the surface of polite small talk forever.
I set my chopsticks down, lifted my head, and looked straight at the girl across from me.
"But… Min Jiyeon."
"Hm? What?"
She stopped mid-chew and looked at me.
"Earlier… why were you standing alone in that alley like that? Where did you ditch all your bodyguards? No umbrella, just standing there getting soaked. If anything happened to you, the entire Academy would flip upside down. You know that better than anyone."
The moment the question landed, every motion in Min Jiyeon's body locked still. The wooden chopsticks she'd been lifting froze midair, limp, and silence stretched between us.
I was about to take it back, wondering if I'd crossed a line, when she spoke—voice low, emotions held down hard, almost a mutter.
"They told me to get married…"
"Huh? What did you say?"
I doubted my ears. The words were so absurd I had no choice but to ask again.
Min Jiyeon set her chopsticks down on the table. She raised her head and met my eyes dead-on.
"My father… he's completely ignoring my opinions, my feelings, everything. He's trying to force me into a marriage. Corporate alliance this, political match that. With someone I've barely even seen a handful of times in my entire life."
I pulled the spare blanket out from deep in the wardrobe. It hadn't seen sunlight in a long time and felt a little stiff, but it was still the cleanest thing I'd managed to keep in this cramped room. After shaking off the dust, I spread it wide in the narrow space beside the bed.
"You take the bed."
I pointed at the mattress as I spoke.
Min Jiyeon stood in that vague, tight strip of floor between the shoe rack and the sink, fiddling with the loose sleeve ends of my T-shirt. Drowned in clothes cut for my frame, her slender lines seemed to sink even further—a plain look that had nothing in common with the tailored heiress I'd always seen at the Academy.
"No. I can't do that."
She shook her head.
"I had nowhere else to go and barged in here without any shame. Kicking the owner out of his own bed so I can take it would be completely out of line. I'll sleep on the blanket. Even this is more than I deserve."
"…You say that because you have no idea how cold a semi-basement floor gets. I turned the boiler on, but the chill still climbs the walls. If you catch a cold and end up feverish after everything you've already been through, I'm the one who has to deal with it. Stop arguing and get up there."
I deliberately kept my tone curt. Being prickly felt kinder to a prideful girl like her than letting any raw pity show.
But Min Jiyeon's stubbornness ran deeper than I'd expected.
"I already feel terrible imposing on you. I can't steal your bed on top of that. I'm really fine, so you sleep on the bed. Just let me have this one."
As if to cut off any further chance to argue, she quietly walked over to the spread blanket, knelt, and sat. Legs neatly together, posture flawless—every inch the product of a strict household's etiquette training.
At that, I gave up the fight and scratched my head.
"Do whatever you want. Just don't wake me up in the middle of the night whining that you're cold."
I sighed, climbed onto the bed, and lay down.
Click.
I hit the wall switch and the room sank into dimness. Only a faint wash of streetlight slipped through the tiny semi-basement window, just enough to make out the shapes of things inside.
I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling. On any other night I would have been dead asleep from exhaustion the second I hit the mattress. Tonight my eyes refused to close.
Tick.
Tick.
The second hand of the wall clock circled with unusual insistence in my ears. From less than a meter away, the thin sound of Min Jiyeon's breathing snagged every nerve I had.
I have no idea where my life is trying to go.
The legitimate daughter of the Min Ga Group—the conglomerate that held the entire country in its grip—was right now trying to sleep on the floor of my studio apartment.
I was still turning under that ominous realization when it came.
"…Hic."
A fragile sound, so thin it would have drowned under the rain if I hadn't been listening for it. I held my breath and simply heard it.
"…Nngh. Hic…"
Min Jiyeon.
She had pulled the blanket all the way over her head and was crying with her mouth clamped shut, desperate to keep any sob from escaping. The small, shuddering movement of the blanket caught faintly at the edge of my vision.
Min Jiyeon—the girl I had only ever watched from a distance across Academy lecture halls.