I turned slowly, my heart performing a frantic drum solo against my ribs. Kim Yu-jin was standing there, the steam from her ramen curling around her face like a mysterious fog.
"Ah," she said, blinking as she looked me up and down. Her sharp eyes lingered on the "Comma" hair for a second too long. "Sorry, I mistook you for someone else. For a second, I thought you were a guy I met here before. A bit more... disheveled."
She let out a short, melodic laugh and leaned against the bookshelf. "Anyway, San. I didn't expect you to be the one who would actually win the Autumn Festival. You were so cool!"
"Thank you," I said, offering an awkward laugh. "We just did what we had to do."
"Well, you did something right," she said, taking a sip of her soup. "That video of you and that indie band is a hit. It's almost at 500,000 views. Everyone at Hanyeong is talking about it."
482,319, I corrected her silently. I had refreshed the page exactly six times during my lunch break.
"Thanks," I said aloud. "I didn't think it would blow up like that."
I leaned against the opposite shelf, trying to look casual despite the muscle soreness screaming in my lats.
"But tell me... who is Kim Man-du? I keep hearing that name. Who would actually name their kid 'Kim Dumpling'?"
I let out a genuine laugh at the ridiculous alias I had invented on the fly. Yu-jin joined in, her eyes crinkling.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," she said, shaking her head. "It's funny, right? But the guy was so serious about it. He looked like he'd fight anyone who insulted his dumpling honor."
She paused, her expression turning thoughtful.
"Actually, I suspect that 'Kim Man-du' is the mysterious Fred from the festival. His expression... Hair... Are somewhat familiar to me. But I've never seen anyone like that at Hanyeong. Not with those shoulders. So even the name 'Kim Man-du' must be a cover for someone else."
She was so close to the truth it was terrifying.
I just nodded, playing the role of the oblivious foreigner.
Suddenly, her phone erupted with a loud, energetic ringtone. She fished it out of her pocket, her eyes widening as she read the caller ID.
"Really?!" she exclaimed into the receiver.
She looked at me, a frantic energy suddenly taking over.
"Sorry, San! I have to go. If you want you can have my noodles..."
She started backing away toward the door, then stopped. "Hey, if you see a boy around here who looks like an ahjussi but has a giant black mop instead of hair... text me!"
"But I don't know your—" I started, reaching out an empty hand toward the air.
"Hello, yeah, I'll be in ten..."
She was already out the door, her red scarf fluttering behind her. I stood in the silent aisle, feeling like I'd just been hit by a very small, very fast whirlwind.
I looked down at the manga I had been holding—a weathered volume of Vagabond. There, scribbled in the margin of the last page in messy writing, was a phone number.
I pulled out my phone and saved it immediately.
[Contact Name: Yu-jin Man-du]
I chuckled at the name again.
Then, I glanced at the wall clock.
"Crap."
6:05 PM. Golden Triangle Cram School.
I practically sprinted from the stop to the academy building, my backpack bouncing painfully against my sore traps.
I slipped into the classroom just as the instructor was laying out the evening's materials.
The room was packed with tired students from three different high schools, all of them looking like they were one math problem away from a mental breakdown.
In the middle row, I spotted a familiar head of blond hair.
Lee Ha-neul was there, huddled with a group of girls from a nearby girls' school.
They were whispering and giggling, likely decompressing from their own long days.
Jun-seo's seat was empty.
I walked toward Ha-neul's table.
The group of girls looked up as I approached.
The moment they saw "San 2.0"—the height, the broad shoulders, and the professionally styled hair—the whispering stopped.
They looked at me as if an idol had just wandered into their basement study hall.
"Excuse me," I said, my voice deep and a little scratchy from the day's rehearsals. "Is this seat free?"
I looked at the seat where Jun-seo usually sat.
The girls blinked, their faces turning various shades of pink. They nodded frantically, practically shoving their bags off the chair to make room for me.
"Yes! Please! Sit here!" one of them squeaked.
I sat down, setting my heavy bag on the floor with a thud.
Ha-neul turned slowly.
She looked at the girls, then at me, her mouth hanging open in a look of pure, unadulterated shock.
Her "outsider" comment from the morning seemed to hang in the air between us, but right now, she just looked like she couldn't believe I had the audacity to use my "Face ID" to hijack her social circle.
I pulled out my notebook and a pen, looking her right in the eye.
"Long day, huh?" I said.