'No Way...' The Moment Suspicion Turned to Certainty

It took just one moment—no more, no less—for my nagging suspicion of "no way" to solidify into cold, hard certainty. There was simply no other explanation, no matter how I racked my brain. Why else would Gayeong act like that toward me, of all people?

Fuck... I'm screwed.

Of course, separate from the shock and embarrassment, I had zero regrets. The rush of pleasure that surged through me the instant I impulsively pressed my lips to hers was that intense. Hell, part of me wanted to feel it again right now. But that wasn't the point...

The real issue was that she knew.

What the hell should I do? No, could I even do anything?

It felt like coming home buzzed from a night out with friends, only to find an enlistment notice slapped right there on the living room table. That level of panic—no, worse. Beads of cold sweat trickled down my back so vividly I could feel every drop. The sensation was so sharp, I never wanted to experience it again.

In that moment, the best I could manage was desperately holding my expression in place before it crumbled. You never know—maybe, just maybe, she thought it was a dream. Maybe that's why she seemed so uncomfortable. To cling to that slim possibility, I managed my face like my life depended on it. The cold sweat pouring out nonstop? No controlling that.

If anyone had seen my back right then, they'd have sworn I was seriously ill, sweating like that.

Even as I leaked sweat like a faucet, Gayeong kept her usual "I have something to say" look, silently focusing on her meal. Watching her, I had a gut feeling: if something big was coming, it'd hit after dinner. High chance.

Should I be relieved it wasn't happening right now, or tremble in dread knowing this meal would end soon? Honestly, I couldn't tell.

In the meantime, Sena and Jina polished off their portions and finished eating... Clink. Gayeong set down her chopsticks next, following them. That tiny sound hit me like thunder. It was just a soft clink by my ear, but it felt like lightning crashing down beside me with a boom.

"What, you still got a ton left?"

Sena spotted my half-full bowl on her way out and tossed that comment before heading upstairs. Jina muttered about brushing her teeth and went to the bathroom. I screamed internally at their backs—Don't go! Don't leave me!—but of course, it fell on deaf ears.

And just like that, the kitchen held only me and Gayeong.

That must've been the moment.

"Yuhan."

Her voice, slightly heavier than yesterday, pierced my ear like a stab. My heart skipped.

"...Yes?"

Part of me wanted to play dumb, but with her calling my name, ignoring it would've just screamed guilt. So I turned toward her as naturally as I could manage, praying my face wasn't ghost-white like I'd seen a horror movie.

The instant our eyes met, a complex gaze—way beyond anything I could comprehend—flew straight at my face.

"...Auntie?"

Her stare was heavy. It weighed down my heart too. Like I'd done something utterly unforgivable, no matter the circumstances.

She really was awake...

Now what? What the hell do I do now...?

I wrestled my darting eyes back into place, repeating that frantically in my head. That's when it happened.

An awkward smile crept across Gayeong's face.

"...It's nothing, dear."

What...?

"Eat slowly, okay?"

"Y-Yes, sure..."

She brushed it off like that. Maybe she couldn't drop something so heavy on me mid-meal—like not disturbing a dog while it's eating. I'd wondered if that was it, but nope. That was the end.

Even though she could've easily waited till after dinner, Gayeong just said she was heading to bed and vanished into her room. She told me to soak the dishes after I finished since she'd handle the washing.

I... survived? For real?

Honestly, I was more stunned than happy. I'd never imagined she'd be the one to dodge it.

But why?

Why choose that path? My half-eaten rice seemed to complain it'd harden like scorched crust if I didn't eat, but who cared right now? Just guessing at her motives ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠made my head throb.

What she'd done wasn't normal. Hell, it wasn't even common sense.

So I imagined it: if I were in her shoes, what would I do? Easy answer.

I'd scold the kid harshly or talk it out calmly and convince them. That's the standard response. But Gayeong? She picked avoidance, the most absurd option.

Why?

I couldn't wrap my head around it. What could drive her to that?

The speculation continued even after I wolfed down the rest of my cold breakfast and headed upstairs to the third floor. And at the end of it all, a spark lit up in my mind—

Ah.

One key detail about Gayeong.

Unlike most women in this world who worked outside, she had a homemaker personality. For someone like that, what's most precious? Her family, obviously. The home she'd built and nurtured with her own hands must mean everything to her. Maybe even more than herself.

What if she'd called me out back there on what I'd done? Obvious outcome: her precious world would've shattered. Maybe beyond repair.

Sure, with enough effort afterward, we could've patched it up. But would it ever be the same?

On that point, I was certain.

No way.

Repeating that inwardly, it finally clicked. In a situation where she should've chewed me out, why pick the illogical escape? She couldn't. This community she'd poured her life into was too dear to destroy with her own hands.

That's it.

Pathetic, really. The moment I grasped her true feelings, my first thought was resentment. She'd tempted me into that kiss, then acted like it never happened.

She probably had no idea what she was doing. But back then? I was losing my mind. Every breath fueled a surging urge to pin her down, my hands shaking from it. I held back with just the kiss... and now she wanted to pretend it away after taking my first?

No chance.

Damn right. If she chose flight over facing reality—if that was her true heart...

I'll play along.

I had no clue how long she could keep running, but for now, I'd wake up early. Only way to slip in and out of her room without Sena or Jina suspecting.

As the saying goes, pull the iron horns while it's hot—I grabbed my phone and set a week-long alarm. That's when—

Ding!

A text notification blared from my phone. My heart dropped instantly. Calling me now?

Nope. If it were Gayeong, her name would've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠popped up. Instead, some unknown number filled the brief preview.

Spam?

Despite my killer looks, Yuhan's social circle was pathetically small. The kind of face that makes you wonder why life was so lonely. High chance of spam, but I checked anyway.

Not spam. Unexpectedly.

Oh, right... college student.

Practically spam, though. A random text from my department at Noah University.

Probably some special lecture crap, but the red "1" notification bugged me, so I tapped the bold "Creative Writing Department" at the top.

Huh...?

What popped up was not what I expected.

What the...?

I was floored. Not a fun trip—chasing freshmen around, answering questions nonstop, and they want us to pay to volunteer? Who'd sign up?

Good luck filling spots, I muttered, tapping the number at the bottom to copy it. I pasted it into a new message and hammered out a reply: something like, "Just hit third year—can third-years join? I'd like to if possible."

Freshman orientation?

No way I could pass that up. Fantasizing about fresh 20-year-olds, I typed away eagerly.

Meanwhile, having finished mass-texting Yuhan and every other Creative Writing major at Noah University, Se-rin let out a deep sigh and faceplanted onto her desk. Her youthful face—hard to believe she was just a year older than Yuhan—dangled with worry and anxiety like condom balloons on a garter belt.

What had her so stressed? As she sighed into the desk, someone kicked open the student council room door.

In bounced a ponytail swaying wildly: Hong Jin-hee, the council treasurer.

"How'd it go?"

"Sent the texts."

"Replies?"

Jin-hee demanded bluntly, no beating around the bush. Se-rin sighed again, grabbed her phone from the desk, and shoved it at her.

The screen showed... nothing. Pure emptiness.

Jin-hee's face soured.

"We're screwed... What if zero sign-ups?"

Only five minutes since sending, but her worry wasn't overblown. Their department's outsiders—er, artistic types—were infamous for skipping official events. Participation rates tanked compared to others.

They'd planned to run orientation with just council members, but...

"Why'd those bitches get food poisoning now..."

Ruined that. The crew who'd jetted off to Southeast Asia for vacation caught norovirus from bad food and landed in the hospital together. Scrambling for volunteers too late, Se-rin couldn't shake the bad vibes.

As treasurer and president groaned in unison—

Bzzz-bzzz.

Se-rin's phone, buried with her on the desk, vibrated twice. Not a call—a text. She bolted up, checked it, and her body ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠started trembling as she stared at the screen.

"What? Spam?"

Jin-hee peered hopefully, but disappointment crept in—until...

"Jin-hee..."

Se-rin's voice shook like her body.

"We're... saved."

She thrust the phone at Jin-hee. The screen read—

—Yuhan's freshly sent message, boldly tagged with his ridiculous nickname, "Our Department's Fantasy Species."