Episode 24
13 March 2025, Thursday. Noon.Duremidam, Building 75, across the road from SNU's chemistry faculty.
Den and Min-jae sat across from each other, half-eaten bowls of noodles between them.
Den watched his friend for a moment, then spoke casually.
"What's wrong with you, Min-jae? Last week you were glowing like a lightbulb, and now you look like someone stole your soul. What happened?"
Min-jae let out a dramatic sigh—the kind that clearly wanted to be noticed, yet pretended it shouldn't be.
Den stopped chewing.
"Alright. Out with it," he said calmly. "I'm not asking a third time."
Min-jae pressed his lips together, hesitated, then finally spoke, embarrassed.
"Well, my friend likes Han-bin. A lot. And… They spent time together once. At the Starfield COEX Mall."
Den blinked.
"You already asked Han-bin out?" he interrupted. "Wow, you move fast."
Min-jae protested, panicking.
"What? No! Aren't you listening? I said—my friend, not me!"
Den waved him off.
"I'm your friend, Min-jae—and I've never even been to that mall. So stop dodging and get to the point."
"You are the worst listener."
"True. But at least I don't charge for it—therapists do. So? You went on a date with Han-bin, correct?"
Min-jae waved it off, finally giving up on his cover, and shook his head with tired bitterness.
"If only. Then it would be simple."
He stared down at his noodles.
"No, we ran into each other by accident. Spent the day together. And I was so happy, hyung. Seriously. Being next to her felt… natural."
Den looked at him, clearly missing the problem.
"And…?"
Min-jae dropped his chopsticks into the bowl, then dramatically laid his head on the table, staring out the window like a tragic hero.
"And nothing. That's the problem. Nothing!"
He lifted his head, despair written all over his face.
"She hasn't texted me. She hasn't come up to me. She hasn't said anything. What am I supposed to do? Text her? What if she replies, 'Why are you bothering me? When did we ever become close?'"
He gestured weakly with his hand.
"And that's it, Hyung. I die. Heartbreak. Career over. No engineering degree like my father. I won't even make it to military service."
"I'll just…" He spread his hands. "Die on the spot."
Den listened in silence. Then calmly picked up more noodles and ate.
Min-jae stared at him in outrage.
"Are you seriously eating right now? How can you eat when I'm telling you something like this?"
Den gathered more noodles, paused, and replied before eating.
"Very easily. You're the one talking. I'm just listening."
Den saw the genuine misery in his friend's eyes.
He sighed, set his chopsticks down, and finally spoke seriously.
"What if she's losing her mind because she's waiting for you to text first?"
Min-jae froze.
"Text her. Ask her to eat together. What's the big deal? That's not even a date. Just two students having lunch."
A spark of hope appeared on Min-jae's face.
"And if she says no?"
Den resumed eating.
"Then I'll mourn your tragic death," he said flatly. "But that's unlikely. She looks at you way too often during lectures. Always glancing your way."
Min-jae's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Seriously? You're sure? How would you even know?"
Den smirked.
"Because sometimes I look at… other people. So I noticed."
He added dryly, "Or someone in love. You're not blind, are you?"
Min-jae ignored the jab.
"Alright," he said decisively. "I'll text her. After we finish eating."
Then, as if suddenly remembering Den existed too, he changed the subject.
"What about you? How are things… with girls?"
Den shrugged.
"Nothing special. I'm a foreigner—who's going to risk it?
He stirred his tea idly.
"Yu-ra texts sometimes. We ate together, and went for walks a couple of times. But nothing serious. And Mi-yeon…"
His voice softened slightly.
"She is kind to me. Friendly. But I think that's all. After the Jun-gi mess, she barely talks to me. Just the occasional 'hi."
Den turned to the window, shutting Min-jae out. He took a quiet sip of tea.
"Being an outsider sucks."
13 March 2025, Thursday. Afternoon.SNU's chemistry faculty, lecture hall 500-301
After lunch, classes resumed.
Professor Lee clapped her hands once and said evenly, "Alright. Pair up."
The lecture hall instantly turned into a beehive.
Chairs scraped against the floor. Students twisted around in their seats.
Voices overlapped—someone calling a friend, someone nervously laughing, someone desperately scanning the room to avoid becoming that one unlucky person left alone.
Den did not move.
At all.
He stayed where he was, leaning back on two legs of his chair, rocking slightly, arms loose, expression calm—as if the word pair had no power over him.
Min-jae, in comparison, was in full panic mode.
His head spun too fast.
Up. Down. Left. Right.
Eyes wide. Breathing uneven. Trying to predict who would end up where.
Den leaned toward him without changing his relaxed posture.
"Min-jae," he said quietly, "why are you spinning your head like a meerkat on lookout duty?"
Min-jae froze.
"This is the perfect moment," Den continued. "Go. Ask Han-bin."
It was like his brain rebooted.
"…Now?" Min-jae whispered. "Like… right now?"
Den nodded, adding sarcastically.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is now too soon for you? How about the next life then?"
"Of course right now! Go."
Min-jae swallowed and wiped his palms on his pants. He rolled his eyes, stood up.
I can do this!
And walked.
Damn it… why did I listen to Den?
Like a man heading into an exam he hadn't studied for—but decided to take anyway.
Lee Han-bin was sitting two rows ahead.
She twirled her pen between her fingers, trying to look indifferent, but her hands betrayed her—slightly trembling.
She wasn't sure what she was more afraid of.
That he would come over.
Or that he wouldn't.
Then—he stopped beside her desk.
She looked up.
For half a second, both of them froze.
Min-jae didn't know what to do with his hands.
Han-bin didn't know where to look.
And then, red as a ripe tomato, Min-jae spoke—quiet, but clear enough.
"Han-bin… would you like to be my partner? For the assignment… today?"
She blinked three times in a row.
Then she bowed slightly, awkwardly, and answered just as softly.
"…Yes. Yes, I will."
After a pause, even quieter, she added, "Thank you for asking…"
Her ears were burning.
She bowed again, hesitant, and he mirrored the gesture in return.
Min-jae stepped back, his shoulders straightening, his face filled with stunned, genuine pride.
I did it!
And for the first time in this whole course, Han-bin felt she didn't hate physics as much as she thought.
She smiled. Not performative—just warm.
Across the room, Den was still sitting by the window.
That was when a shadow fell beside his desk.
Gentle. Hesitant. But unmistakably intentional.
Mi-yeon stood there, hugging her book to her chest.
Her gaze was fixed on her shoes.
Her voice was barely audible.
"D… Den… are you… already paired with someone?"
Mi-yeon was visibly nervous.
She would never normally approach a guy like this—but in her mind, everything from the last few days tangled together: all the emotional moments, his words, his gestures, the way Den looked at her.
His care for her… wrapped in terrifying, rude, impulsive protection—but still unmistakable care.
All of it twisted into one thing—and gave her the courage to stand there.
Not out of necessity.
Not out of fear of being left alone.
But because she wanted to be his partner.
Den turned his head, saw Mi-yeon's face—and immediately lost his balance.
The chair tipped.
There was a loud crash.
Den fell to the floor along with it.
The whole class looked over.
Someone snickered, harmlessly.
Soo-yeong leaned toward her friend and whispered with a sharp smile, "Just look at that, Se-a. Our Russian prince finally leaned back too far. It was bound to happen."
But irritation burned under her amusement.
Why does Mi-yeon throw him off balance… and I can't?
Mi-yeon noticed none of it.
She didn't react to the fall. Didn't hear the laughter. None of it registered.
She only looked at Den.
And waited.
Den got up and set the chair straight. He cleared his throat.
The embarrassment of the moment washed away from him like raindrops off an umbrella.
Then he answered.
"Not yet," he said evenly. "Would you mind being my partner, Mi-yeon?"
She lifted her eyes—and for the first time in many years, there was no fear of rejection in them.
Because he didn't offer her a place out of charity.
He offered her a choice.
Something she could say yes or no to.
That mattered to her—fundamentally.
She took a short breath. Her voice trembled, but the words were steady.
"…I—yes. Of course. I want to."
She said yes herself.
Not begged.
Not slipped into it by accident.
She made a choice.
Her cheeks were pink, but she looked straight at him.
She walked around the desk and sat down beside him—neatly, properly, holding her textbook as if it gave her balance.
Her shoulders were tense.
But there was something else there too.
Confidence. Quiet, almost invisible. Unfamiliar.
The professor clapped her hands once.
"Well then. Are the pairs formed? Excellent. Open your books to page one hundred thirteen."
And the group work began.
The professor continued, her tone pragmatic, almost dry.
"Alright. I understand—quantum physics isn't for everyone. The textbook explains things stiffly and not very clearly. I'm a realist. I don't expect miracles from you. After all, you are future chemists, not physicists."
She paused, scanning the room.
"But basic concepts—you must understand those. Pages one hundred thirteen to one hundred sixteen, we will work through three important terms in quantum physics: superposition, quantum entanglement, and the wave packet. That will be a good start. You can learn the rest of the definitions on your own time."
She raised two fingers.
"You have two options. Either memorize the definitions perfectly. Or work together to understand the meaning well enough to explain them by the end of class—at least in your own words. Begin."
Mi-yeon opened her textbook.
She stared at the page for several seconds.
And then a familiar, quiet panic crept in.
Why am I so stupid?
Everyone understands physics except me.
Why did I sit next to Den? I'll only slow him down.
I can't help him at all—especially with this.
She turned toward him and whispered, barely audible.
"Den… I'm sorry. I don't understand anything. I can't explain these terms. I can't even remember those words."
She looked into his eyes.
And immediately, it felt a little easier to breathe.
Because he wasn't tense.
There was no annoyance or disappointment.
He joked about it.
"Not a big deal. I feel the same about every second Korean word I hear."
He hadn't said it—but she already read it in his gaze.
Don't worry. It's fine. We'll figure it out.
And just like that, the panic loosened its grip.
Den closed the textbook and slid it aside. He turned fully toward her. His voice was calm and steady—no pressure.
"Look, Mi-yeon. Conceptually, it's really not that complicated. The core idea is that in quantum physics, particles sometimes behave like they're paired. Like… socks."
Mi-yeon blinked, unsure whether he was serious or teasing.
"S-socks…?"
Sounds like he is even more lost in this than me.
"Yes. Socks," he nodded, completely earnest.
She almost pleaded, "But… we can't explain quantum physics using socks, Den…"
"Oh, we absolutely can," he said with a small smile. "Tell me—if a sock is lying in a drawer, is it left or right?"
She frowned, confused, but answered anyway.
"Well… either. It can be left or right, depending on which foot you put it on."
He nodded.
"Exactly. That's superposition. Before you put the sock on—before you measure it—it exists as both possibilities at the same time. Left and right."
He gestured lightly, as if placing something invisible.
"Measuring a particle is like putting the sock on your foot. The moment you do that, the uncertainty disappears."
He looked at her.
"Does that make sense?"
Mi-yeon nodded hesitantly.
"…Am I supposed to say 'Yes'?"
"Just stay with me," he continued gently. "Now—quantum entanglement. Think of particles like socks—some come in pairs. A pair of socks may start out in superposition. But the moment you put one sock on your right foot—"
He paused for effect.
"—the other sock, no matter where it is, instantly becomes the left one. It doesn't matter if it's nearby, still in the drawer, or on the other side of the universe."
His tone stayed calm, almost playful, but precise.
"Because the two socks are entangled. Once one is measured, the other immediately gets a fixed state too."
He stopped, giving her time.
Mi-yeon imagined it—standing in her room, pulling one sock from a drawer, the other somehow deciding itself at the same moment.
Her nod this time was firmer.
"…Okay. I get that."
"And finally—the wave packet," Den said. "That's the region of space where the probability of finding a particle exists. It's basically the 'search area'—where the sock might be."
He tilted his head slightly.
"If you've taken one sock out of the drawer, the other one should be somewhere. But until you find it, the drawer itself represents a range of probabilities. The sock might be there… or it might not."
He smiled faintly.
"That drawer is the wave packet."
For a second, Mi-yeon just stared at him. Analyzing the explanation.
Then she started to laugh.
Not politely.
Not nervously.
Real laughter—soft, surprised, bubbling up before she could stop it.
The explanation was completely unacademic and yet completely clear.
She pressed a hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking slightly, eyes bright.
"I can't believe it," she said, still smiling. "…but I actually understand it now."
Professor Lee heard the laughter.
She lifted her head from behind the glow of her laptop screen, eyes sharp, voice cutting cleanly through the room.
"So," she said sharply, "what's so amusing back there?"
Her gaze settled with precision.
"Jeong Mi-yeon. Do you find physics… entertaining?"
Mi-yeon startled as if burned. She sprang to her feet and bowed deeply, hands stiff at her sides.
"I—I'm sorry, Professor-nim, it's just—"
Beside her, Den leaned closer and whispered, barely moving his lips.
"Go on. Explain."
Mi-yeon swallowed.
What am I even doing?
She started hesitantly, words tumbling at first, but with every sentence her voice steadied. She kept glancing at Den—brief, almost imperceptible looks—drawing courage from his presence.
By the fifth sentence, half the class had stopped pretending to read.
The professor listened for a few seconds.
Then she raised her hand.
"Oh no. No, no, no," she said, cutting Mi-yeon off mid-sentence.
A collective groan moved through the room.
"Not this again. Translating physics into philosophy."
She sighed, rubbing her temple.
"I heard this explanation a couple of years ago."
Mi-yeon froze, mortified.
The professor continued, calmer now.
"Let me be clear. It's clever. The logic is correct in its principle."
She paused.
"But I do not want you explaining it to the whole group."
She closed her laptop with a soft click.
"You passed this assignment. Both of you."
Then, with a pointed look around the room, she added, "And you're dismissed."
A ripple of shock spread.
"I want the rest of the class to reach understanding on their own," the professor said. "And remember—on the exam, I expect equations, not metaphors."
She hesitated. Then, against her will, a small smile slipped through.
"Go on," she said dryly, trying not to smile. "Cheaters."
Den and Mi-yeon exchanged a stunned glance.
They bowed quickly, almost in sync, and hurried out—thirty unexpected minutes of freedom. Behind them, openly envious stares.
They stepped into the corridor. The door closed behind them with a soft click.
Den turned to Mi-yeon, his expression bright, openly pleased, almost boyish.
Mi-yeon caught his look and suddenly brought her fists up near her cheeks, laughing. Not politely. Not quietly. She giggled with careless joy like a kid handed ice cream on a summer day.
Her eyes were still shining when she blurted out, "I can't believe it! How is that even possible? We got dismissed for the rest of the class because of your ridiculous explanation! Is this a dream? Did this actually happen?!"
Den smiled easily.
"That year of physics at MSU finally paid off." he said, almost bragging.
He tilted his head slightly, then added, almost casually—but with intention, "Come on. We've got a lot of free time now. Do you want to… spend it together?"
A brief pause.
"We could take a walk in the park. Or get something to eat."
Mi-yeon nodded lightly, as if afraid a stronger movement might break the moment. A soft smile touched her lips.
"Yes… I want to. Let's go for a walk, Den."
They started down the corridor toward the exit.
As they walked, a memory flashed uninvited through Mi-yeon's mind—Yu-ra slipping her arm through Den's, leading him away to lunch.
Without thinking, Mi-yeon's hand lifted toward Den's elbow.
She hesitated.
Pulled back.
Fell half a step behind.
Her heart raced. Panic bloomed.
Then—like she had made a decision she couldn't undo—she took two quick steps forward and gently hooked her arm through his.
Her cheeks burned instantly. Her heart slammed so hard it felt dangerous.
She braced herself.
For him to pull away.
Or say, 'You're making me uncomfortable.'
To tell her it wasn't okay.
But nothing happened.
Den didn't flinch.
Didn't slow.
Didn't comment.
He simply smiled, looking ahead.
And now they were walking together.
We aren't holding hands.
Not acting as a couple.
It is not a date.
But we are walking together.
For me—this is enough.
Right now…
I am happy.
And suddenly, Mi-yeon felt something warm settle quietly inside her.
They stepped outside into the open air and headed toward the university park, walking at the pace of two people who didn't want it to end.