Sometimes, You Need a Bit of Warmth
Sometimes you need a bit of warmth too. A reply came right away from Seo Jae-a.
I knew I was getting attention, but had it really made the news? No wonder Ham Ye-jin had told me to avoid going out. Not that I'd lasted even a day before breaking that rule.
I could guess where the name came from.
The world had sure gotten convenient. You could even tutor like this from afar. Come to think of it, Jae-a still hadn't sent over the novel he was working on. I brought it up right away.
But Jae-a went silent.
Why's he being so frustrating? There was nothing I could do without reading it first. He'd insisted on continuing the tutoring himself, so this attitude wasn't helping. But his next message... surprised me. A lot, actually.
Huh? What the hell does that mean? The only Internet Broadcast Novel I'd read so far was that one about a TS bishoujo pro gamer.
I paused, wondering how to respond to his excuses. I was flustered. Had Jae-a decided to keep up the tutoring because of my good review? Either way, I needed time to sort my thoughts.
In the brief silence, Jae-a messaged again. I couldn't keep him waiting any longer, so I asked the one thing I was most curious about.
It took longer than expected for Jae-a to reply. When he did, my face... well, let's just say it showed.
I had no idea what to say to his desperate excuses. In the end, all I could send was this.
No reply from Seo Jae-a that day.
Nothing particularly weird about it. If it'd been me, I'd have been mortified enough to hang myself if someone found out I wrote something like that. Especially with a pen name like that.... I'd seen similar keywords pop up during my egosurfing—had they been referencing my current state? The leaked photos hadn't spread that widely, though.
Either way, if we were doing tutoring, I'd need to review his writing. I'd read it once already, but back then I had no idea it was Jae-a's. Knowing now brought all sorts of mixed feelings. No way he actually has tastes like that... right?
Then it hit me—the view count. Over three million, like I'd seen before. I didn't know much about webnovels, but wasn't that insanely high? It was over 200 chapters long. Even dividing roughly, that had to mean tens of thousands of readers, easy....
I had no clue what Jae-a's goals were, but at this level, he was already a success. What did he even want to learn from me?
Of course, it wasn't perfect. The prose was childish, the structure sloppy, the writing messy. But look at those views. Three million. That many meant it had real charm. I'd felt it myself while reading. I had nothing to teach on that front. Hell, I'd be the one learning.
I could teach basics where he seemed lacking. But that'd wrap up the tutoring quick. He wasn't starting from zero—he'd already serialized 200 chapters. A kid with that kind of grit wouldn't take long.
Why hiatus, though? Writer's block? Slump? Tied to skipping school? More questions piling up.
Sleep was creeping in. Had my smaller body made me tire easier? It wasn't even that late, but I was drowsy. Feeling my mind fog, I lay on the sofa. No bed in the room anyway. My body was small enough that the sofa felt spacious. I draped a thin blanket over myself, head at one end, smartphone in hand, and drifted off.
The phone stayed quiet. That unread 1 from Kang Hwa-won lingered. Clutching my smartphone, I fell asleep.
Thankfully, no dreams this time—I slept soundly. When I woke, hair fell over my face. Annoying. I wanted to chop it off ASAP. Should I just do it myself? But I'd botch it for sure. Then again, did it matter if it was a mess? I wasn't going out or meeting anyone. Even if I did, no reason to keep it neat. I wasn't the type to doll myself up like some girl anyway.
In the end, I went for it. Grabbed scissors and hacked it short. Waist-length became shoulder-length. Jagged and awkward-looking, but whatever. Easier to hide under a hat, at least. I dumped the cuttings in the trash. White strands falling made my skin crawl a bit.
After washing up and brushing my teeth, I checked my smartphone again. KakaoTalk was quiet—maybe too early. Kang Hwa-won wasn't the type to check his phone constantly anyway. Staring at that persistent 1, I thought as much.
Under that slacker exterior, he was a loyal guy. It wasn't just anything—but still, he wasn't the type to cut ties over me turning into a woman.
Muk Ha-neul hadn't messaged since our last talk. Figures. That's how it was with women—shallow bonds. The thought soured my mood.
As if on cue, my phone buzzed. Muk Ha-neul.
How the hell did she know? I'd only told Seo Jae-a and Kang Hwa-won. And Hwa-won hadn't read it. Only one left.
Looser lips than I'd thought. Were they close enough to chat? I pondered how to answer her question. Truth was, I'd assumed she wouldn't care anymore—but I couldn't say that straight. It'd make me sound like I was hung up on her.
Her lame excuse gave me pause. I didn't know where she lived, but given the university's location, probably close. Was she planning to visit? But Ham Ye-jin had warned against sharing my address even with acquaintances. Probably figuring they might sell it somewhere. I didn't trust women. Didn't trust Muk Ha-neul either.
But flat-out hiding it felt a bit much—like saying straight up, "I can't trust you." The old me would've just said it bluntly. Was this the hormones too?
Objectively, Muk Ha-neul selling my address was ridiculous. Not because I trusted her, but because she wasn't clever or motivated enough for that. And if she knew where I was, I could send her for errands. Handy, since deliveries took forever.
So giving her the address wasn't hormones. Pure cold logic.
I sent the list I'd made yesterday eyeing the place: pillow, reusable chopsticks (not disposable), mosquito repellent, and so on....
Muk Ha-neul accepted more readily than expected. Gave her the address, and she said she'd head right over.
Oh, right—Thursday today? Hospital time had blurred my sense of days. Conversation wrapped, and I questioned myself. Why had I given Muk Ha-neul my address? All those excuses, but now it felt like they were just that—excuses.
Why, though? Maybe I was craving someone's warmth too. Sometimes, you need a bit of warmth.