The walk to Sora's bus stop was a tactical detour. It was in the opposite direction of the Lee residence, adding an extra fifteen minutes to my already tight schedule, but the "Boyfriend Manual" in my head—and the lingering warmth of her hand in mine—said it was mandatory.
Away from the prying eyes of the Kirin corridors, the air between us felt lighter. The "A-List Trainee" mask softened, and for the first time, I wasn't talking to a celebrity; I was just talking to a girl.
"So," I said, dodging a stray delivery scooter. "Besides dancing until your legs fall off, what do you actually do for fun?"
Sora laughed, swinging our joined hands. "I'm a cliché, San. I like anime. But not the cool, action-heavy stuff you probably like. I'm into romance and slice-of-life. Anything that makes me cry after a twelve-hour practice."
"Hey, don't judge," I defended. "I've seen my fair share of Ghibli. But surely you've dipped into the classics?"
"I've watched Naruto," she admitted, giving me a playful nudge. "I even tried to do the run once in the studio. My trainer almost had a heart attack."
I chuckled, the image of the elegant Lee Sora doing a ninja dash across a polished dance floor almost too much to handle. "Fair enough."
I went quiet for a second, my thumb rubbing against the back of her hand. The "Comma" hair felt heavy, and the suit felt like a costume, so I decided to offer her something real.
"You know," I muttered, looking at my shoes. "I should probably mention... you're my first girlfriend."
I strategically omitted the detail about my "relationship" with LunarRabbit_04 on a Minecraft survival server back in 8th grade. Telling a legendary K-pop trainee about an e-girlfriend who could just be some forty-year-old man from Estonia would have made me sound more than just pathetic; it would have been social suicide.
Sora stopped walking. She turned to me, her eyes shimmering with something that looked suspiciously like relief.
"Really?" she whispered. "That's funny. Because you're my first boyfriend, too."
I blinked. I let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Nah. You're joking. You're Lee Sora. Half the guys in third year probably have a shrine to you in their basements."
"They might," she giggled, pulling me closer as her bus pulled into view. "But none of them ever actually asked. Or if they did, they were too busy looking at 'Lee Sora the Trainee' to see me. You're different, San."
The bus hissed open. She stood on her tiptoes and gave me a quick, tight hug. The scent of vanilla and expensive hairspray lingered as she stepped onto the stairs. She waved from the window as the bus pulled away, a bright, genuine smile on her face.
I stood there on the sidewalk, feeling... weird. What do I actually feel? I wondered. It was fun, it was flattering, and she was undeniably beautiful.
I dismissed the thought. I had ten months. Thinking too deeply was a luxury I couldn't afford.
I turned the corner, heading for the transit hub. My phone buzzed.
[Sora: Text me when you get home <3]
I looked at the heart at the end of the message. A stupid, involuntary grin spread across my face. I caught my reflection in a shop window—San 2.0, smiling like a lovestruck idiot.
SMACK.
I slapped myself across the cheek. "Get it together, Motuzenko."
I didn't go straight home. I didn't go to the Golden Triangle cram school hub either. I took a bus further north, skipping my usual stop, and headed toward Yeonnam-dong Book & Comics.
I had thirty minutes before I had to be in a desk under tutors' metaphorical watchful eye. I told myself I just wanted to check if they had the new volume of Vagabond.
The truth was, I was looking for a red blazer.
The shop was quiet, the smell of old paper and dust acting like a balm for my frayed nerves. I wandered the aisles, but the corner where I usually saw her was empty. No Hanyeong students. No Kim Yu-jin.
I sighed, feeling a strange pang of disappointment. I walked toward the back, near the small kitchenette where customers could buy snacks.
Suddenly, the sharp, unmistakable scent of spicy cup noodles hit my nose.
"Mandu-ssi?"
I froze. My heart did a violent thud against my ribs.
I turned around slowly.
Kim Yu-jin was sitting at a small plastic table, a steaming cup of ramen in front of her. She wasn't wearing her red blazer this time—just a casual sweater—but her eyes were sharp, locked onto mine with an intensity that made me want to bolt.