Episode 26
14 March 2025, Friday. Noon. SNU's chemistry faculty, main entrance of building 500.
Mi-yeon waited for Den near the exit of the building. Han-bin and Min-jae stood close by, chatting about something trivial—cafeteria food, an annoying assignment, who had forgotten their lab goggles again.
Mi-yeon listened with only half an ear.
There was an unpleasant chill in her chest. One she couldn't quite explain.
What could be so important in the department office? Why did he have to go there?
The answer surfaced on its own, unwelcome but obvious.
Yu-ra. Of course.
Mi-yeon pressed her lips together, forcing her thoughts into something more controlled.
So what if he went to see Yu-ra?
What does that change?
He's not my boyfriend. He's just a friend.
He can do whatever he wants. He has every right.
Den emerged from the building a moment later
Mi-yeon made herself smile—a careful, friendly smile—and together the four of them headed to a small restaurant not far from the university.
They stepped inside.
A waitress greeted them and gestured toward a booth. Han-bin rushed ahead and immediately claimed the center spot on the curved sofa around the semicircular table. Min-jae slid in beside her without hesitation.
Den noticed it and smiled without meaning to—it was obvious how happy Min-jae was just to be sitting next to her.
Mi-yeon sat down on the edge near Han-bin. Den took the seat opposite her.
Min-jae rubbed his hands together dramatically.
"Alright, let's order fast. I'm so hungry I can't think about anything else."
Han-bin smiled, narrowing her eyes playfully.
"Oh really? Not even about girls?"
Min-jae lifted his head, grinning, and answered in a joking tone—though Den could tell he meant it more seriously than he let on.
"Well… maybe only about you, Han-bin. My poor heart is constantly torn between you and fried chicken with rice and vegetables."
He pressed both hands to the right side of his chest, acting out his "suffering."
Han-bin snorted, clearly amused despite herself.
"Min-jae, you're such a liar. The heart is on the left side."
Den and Mi-yeon laughed at the same time.
Min-jae flushed slightly but recovered quickly.
"See? That's how hungry I am—I can't even locate my own heart anymore. I urgently need food. Let's order already!"
They placed their orders. Conversation drifted easily: complaints about early lectures, jokes about professors who never smiled. Which dorm washing machine ate the most socks. Whether instant ramen really counted as dinner.
Min-jae animatedly described a disastrous group project from high school; Han-bin interrupted with exaggerated commentary. Den added dry remarks here and there.
Mi-yeon ate quietly, taking small, careful bites. Every so often, she glanced at Den.
He looked relaxed, cheerful—joking, eating normally.
Yet every now and then, his gaze drifted, his expression turning thoughtful for a second, as if he had slipped out of the conversation before returning again.
At one point, Mi-yeon found herself simply watching him—the line of his jaw, the way his eyes softened when he smiled.
Then he looked up.
She didn't manage to look away in time.
Or maybe she didn't want to.
Their eyes met.
And held.
Until Han-bin ruined the moment.
"Oppa, I've noticed Soo-yeong has been really affectionate with you lately. Must be nice, being liked by the prettiest girl in the group."
Den answered before he could think it through.
He didn't break eye contact with Mi-yeon.
"I wouldn't know," he said calmly. "I don't think Soo-yeong is the most beautiful one in our group."
Han-bin blinked.
"What? Then who is? So-mi? Se-a?"
For another brief second, Den and Mi-yeon simply looked at each other.
Then—almost abruptly—he looked away.
Mi-yeon did the same, quickly lifting her glass and taking a sip of water as if something had caught in her throat.
She spoke up, a little too fast.
"Han-bin, stop interrogating him. Who even asks questions like that? You're probably making him uncomfortable."
Han-bin puffed out her cheeks.
"Oh, come on. What's the big deal? You two are so tense and boring. Typical top students."
They all smiled.
Because they knew Han-bin was only grumbling—not really angry at all.
14 March 2025, Friday. Afternoon. SNU's chemistry faculty, auditorium 500-305.
The second half of the day passed with Mi-yeon sitting in lectures, completely unable to focus.
Her thoughts kept circling back to that look during lunch.
Why did he look at me like that? Why?
This is NOT how someone looks at a girl he's just friends with.
Then another thought followed, quiet but unsettling.
Although… how would I even know how boys look at girls they're just friends with?
No boy has ever been "just friends" with me.
Or anything else… for that matter.
Her chest tightened.
And what did he mean when he said Soo-yeong isn't the most beautiful in our group?
Everyone knows she is.
Why was he looking at me when he said it?
Because he likes me?
Yeah, right… talk about wishful thinking.
Mi-yeon covered her face with both hands, elbows resting on the desk.
What is wrong with me? I'm going to drive myself crazy.
Why do you do this to me, Den?
Around her, pens scratched paper, the professor's voice droned on, slides changed—but Mi-yeon barely registered any of it.
Meanwhile, Den was thinking something far more practical.
He sent Min-jae a message.
I need your help. Gotta adjust the carburetor in my car. Can you help? I need someone to press the gas while I tune it. Doing it alone will take forever.
Min-jae read the message.
Then stared at his phone.
Then slowly looked up at Den, disbelief written all over his face.
He typed furiously.
YOU HAVE A CAR and you never said anything?!
A second message followed almost instantly.
No wait. Scratch that. Where in South Korea did you dig up a dinosaur with a carburetor instead of fuel injection???
Den replied calmly.
Long story. So are you gonna help or not?
Min-jae answered a moment later.
As long as we don't have to travel through time to fix it.
Den smiled and leaned toward Min-jae to say quietly, "Shouldn't have to."
14 March 2025, Friday. Afternoon. SNU's chemistry faculty, Building 500, 3rd floor, corridors.
Min-jae caught up with Den in the corridor right after the lecture.
"Hey—hey, wait. Slow down, Den!" he said, grabbing his backpack strap.
"So what, you actually have a car?"
Den answered, not entirely confidently.
"Sort of."
Min-jae stopped short.
"Sort of? What do you mean, 'sort of'?"
He stared at him.
"This isn't something you can be mistaken about. Either you have a car or you don't. It's like with girls—if you have one, you know for sure."
Den smirked.
"Trust me, dongsaeng," he said lightly, "with girls, knowing anything for sure is much harder than with cars."
He sighed and added, "Anyway, no more questions. We'll get there—you'll see everything yourself."
Den kept walking.
Min-jae stood still for a few seconds, trying to process what he had just heard.
"No more questions?" he echoed. "What? Why not?"
Den didn't even turn around.
"That's a question."
Min-jae blinked and hurried after him.
"Hey, Hyung! Wait! Don't just leave me!"
14 March 2025, Friday. Afternoon. Seoul outskirts, commercial long-term parking lot.
They took a bus together and got off near a paid long-term parking lot in a modest, slightly run-down neighborhood.
Den walked up to the gate and entered a digital code into the electronic lock. There was a sharp click. He pushed open one of the creaking metal doors by hand.
Inside, the lot was half-empty—mostly trucks, construction vehicles, and worn-out machinery. But in the far corner, near a small office building, stood a vehicle that didn't belong to any of that.
A black-painted UAZ-469, in pretty decent condition considering that it had been built in 1989.
Den led Min-jae toward the Russian off-road vehicle and gestured at it.
"Well," he said calmly, "meet my compatriot. UAZ. So—does this count as a car in Korea?"
Min-jae blinked.
Once. Twice. It was like watching an old computer trying to boot up.
Finally, he answered using the exact same words Den had used earlier.
"Sort of…"
He circled the vehicle slowly, poking it with a finger as if to make sure it was real.
"Where did you even get this?" he muttered. "From a museum? Did the Korean alphabet even exist when people were driving these?"
Den grinned.
"Yes, yes. Very funny."
With a heavy metallic clank, he opened the driver's door, reached inside to pull a lever, then lifted the hood. He glanced at Min-jae.
"So? Are you helping me or not? It stalls at idle. We need to fix that. The toolbox is in the trunk."
Min-jae nodded, still staring at the car, and murmured almost to himself, "I think I finally understand why girls around you always get so confused and emotional."
For several minutes, Den and Min-jae worked in silence, both leaning over the open engine bay. They took the carburetor apart bolt by bolt, occasionally rewarding the rusted hardware with a colorful mix of Korean and Russian curses.
When they finally managed to remove the carburetor cover, Den answered the question that had been hanging on Min-jae's tongue the whole time.
"The previous owner gave it to me almost for free," Den said, wiping his hands on a rag.
"He said it would cost more to ship it back to Russia than to buy a new one there. He worked in South Korea for years as an engineer—at some big company. When he got older, he decided to return home. He had to sell it."
He glanced at the car, almost fondly.
"This UAZ was his way to relax. Anti-stress, basically. He loved driving it, loved fixing it even more."
Den shook his head slightly.
"And now it's mine. I got a license, insurance, everything. But this carburetor just refuses to cooperate. I've been fighting with it for two weekends already."
He sighed.
"I honestly don't understand how this kind of thing can be relaxing for anyone."
Den dragged a hand across his forehead, leaving a dark smear of oil behind, then looked at his friend.
"Alright. Start it and keep the revs up. Don't let it drop below fifteen hundred or it'll stall."
Min-jae nodded and climbed into the driver's seat.
Inside, the car smelled of gasoline and metal. The interior was brutally ascetic—almost hostile—as if the engineer who had designed it had been allergic to the word "comfort."
Min-jae turned the key.
The engine protested, coughing and rattling, then finally came to life.
"Give it some gas or it'll stall!" Den shouted, already working on the carburetor again.
Min-jae obediently pressed the pedal.
Den adjusted something and called out, "Okay, now drop it to twelve hundred!"
Min-jae followed the instructions.
Den kept tweaking.
The engine stalled.
"Damn it! Start it again!" Den barked.
On the second try, it worked.
The UAZ settled into a steady idle, purring like a well-fed cat.
Den's hands were covered in oil and grime, but he looked genuinely satisfied. He sat down on the curb with a heavy exhale.
"That's more like it."
Min-jae sat down next to him.
"Why didn't you ask me to help earlier?" he asked. "We could've fixed this a while ago."
Den shrugged.
"There was no real urgency."
Min-jae raised an eyebrow and took a sip of water.
"And now there is?"
Den answered as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
"Yu-ra invited me to go with her to a car show next weekend. I'm not going to take her there by bus."
Min-jae tilted his head slightly, eyebrows still raised.
"Seriously?" he said dryly. "You think she'll prefer… this… thing—this tank—to a bus?"
Den shrugged again.
"We'll see."
Min-jae shook his head slowly, as if concluding that his friend was completely insane.
They sat in silence for about a minute, taking turns drinking from the water bottle, each lost in his own thoughts.
Then Min-jae spoke again.
"So… you like her?"
Den answered without thinking too much.
"Yeah. I can't really explain it. When I'm sitting in the lecture hall and I look at her… I just can't take my eyes off her."
Min-jae blinked.
"In the lecture hall?" he repeated. "But Yu-ra's a senior. She doesn't attend our lectures."
The words snapped Den out of his thoughts.
"Oh. Right," he said quickly. "I wasn't thinking."
He looked away, unsettled by where his own thoughts had gone, then spoke again, deliberately changing the subject.
"Anyway. Let's pack up. I still need to go to the dean's office tomorrow and get permission to park near the dorm."
14 March 2025, Friday. Evening. Parking lot near SNU's men's dormitory.
Den parked the UAZ near the dormitory.
Min-jae got out immediately, saying he would go ask the dorm supervisor for a temporary guest parking permit since the dean's office was already closed.
Den stayed behind a little longer. He wiped dust from the interior with a rag, then stepped out and shut the heavy door with a metallic clang.
He walked toward the entrance of the dormitory—and when he was already near the doors, he saw Mi-yeon walking up from the alley.
She was wearing a cute floral dress with a soft pastel-yellow spring coat over it. She wandered aimlessly through the small park between the dorm buildings, lost in her own thoughts, moving slowly as if listening to the evening itself.
He hadn't expected her at all.
"Mi-yeon?" he said, genuinely surprised. "Hi. What are you doing here?"
She looked startled too—but in her surprise there was a trace of something warmer, almost like quiet happiness. As if she hadn't expected to see him, but had secretly hoped she might.
"I was just taking a walk," she said. "It's so hot inside the dorms. The heating is still on, and it's suffocating. I wanted some fresh air—to enjoy the evening a little."
Then she tilted her head and looked at him more carefully.
"And you? Where are you coming from, looking so…"
Her eyes traveled over his hands, black with grease, his smudged face, the T-shirt stained in several places.
"…so grubby?" she finished, then guessed, half-serious, half-teasing. "Are you taking some kind of art class? Did you paint something?"
Den felt suddenly self-conscious, realizing how he must look.
"Huh? No—no," he said quickly. "I was just… fixing something. I'll show you someday."
He smiled, a little embarrassed.
"I should probably go and wash up. I'm kind of ashamed you saw me like this. Don't tell anyone."
Mi-yeon laughed softly, genuinely amused.
"Okay, Den. It'll be our little secret."
For a brief moment, she remembered the coffee spilling over her favorite dress… and how Den had torn the festival banner from the wall to shield her from stares and whispers.
I should pick that dress up from the dry cleaner tomorrow, she thought.
She waved goodbye. Den waved back, and they went their separate ways, each continuing down a different path.
After taking a few steps, Mi-yeon stopped and turned around, watching Den's figure as he walked away. Part of her wished—another part feared—that he might turn back too.
He didn't.
He walked on at an even pace, eyes forward.
She stood there for a few seconds, then quietly turned and continued toward her dorm.
Near the entrance, Den suddenly stopped.
He turned around and looked back, just in time to see Mi-yeon's silhouette disappear into the shadows between the trees.
"Why did I turn around?" he muttered to himself.
He exhaled sharply, then went inside.