Episode 30
14 May 2025. Tuesday. Evening. Student Bar "Joseon Pub Eddie" near SNU's campus.
The bar was loud in the best way.
Music hummed under conversations, glasses clinked, chairs scraped against the floor. The air smelled like fried food, soju, and that familiar mix of exhaustion and relief that only students understood after a full day of lectures.
Almost all the students who had taken the same subjects as Mi-yeon and ended up forming a small group had gathered here tonight.
That alone felt unusual.
They did not usually gather like this—not all together, not without tension, not without invisible borders between cliques. But tonight those borders were thinner.
Because it was Yuna's birthday.
Kang Yuna sat near the center of the long table, laughing, cheeks warm, eyes bright. She was not the prettiest girl in the room. She was not the loudest. She was not the smartest. She was not the most popular.
She was something rarer.
She was easy.
Easy to talk to. Easy to sit next to. Easy to laugh with.
The kind of person people did not compete with—and therefore did not resent.
If this group of people ever moved as one, it was usually because Yuna's energy carried them.
Mi-yeon held her small glass of soju with both hands and looked around, quietly taking it all in.
This is… nice, she thought.
Really nice.
Chang-woo and Soo-yeong were sitting side by side, awkwardly clinking glasses like they had lost a bet. Someone cheered. Someone whistled. Se-a laughed too loudly. Even So-mi, sitting a little apart as usual, was smiling—an actual smile, brief but unmistakable.
She looks almost human, Mi-yeon thought, then immediately felt guilty for it.
Her gaze drifted.
Den was there too.
He sat slightly turned away from the noise, a cup of black tea in his hands instead of alcohol, listening more than speaking. But when Min-jae threw out another ridiculous joke, Den laughed—openly, genuinely—and for a moment he did not look distant at all.
Just… normal.
That made Mi-yeon's chest feel strangely warm.
Her eyes met Yuna's.
Yuna caught her looking and lifted her glass, freckles dancing across her nose as she smiled.
"You're really wonderful, Yuna," Mi-yeon said, her voice sincere. "I'm so glad we're gathered here tonight."
Yuna's smile softened—not flashy, not dramatic. Just real.
"You too, Mi-yeon. I am happy that you came," she replied, raising her glass.
She took a sip.
Mi-yeon drank as well.
From Yuna, words like that mattered. Because she meant them.
The games started soon after.
Simple drinking games. Cards, numbers, questions. The rules barely mattered. What mattered was that when luck pointed at you, you drank.
Except Den did not.
Instead, every time the draw landed on him, he calmly offered an alternative.
"A card trick," he said.
Groans. Laughter. Protests.
Then silence.
Because somehow, every time, the trick worked.
Cards vanished. Appeared. Switched places. Ended up in someone's pocket. Under a glass. Or he simply guessed correctly.
No one understood how he did it.
That made it better.
"He's cheating," someone accused, laughing.
"I'm driving," Den replied evenly. "This is safer for everyone."
That argument won immediately.
Besides, the unspoken truth was clear: someone sober needed to get people home tonight.
Mi-yeon watched him from across the table.
The way his hands moved—steady, precise. The way he let others be loud while he stayed quiet.
He smiled only when something genuinely amused him.
She took another sip of soju.
The warmth spread faster than she expected.
Too fast.
She did not notice it yet—but Han-bin did, from the corner of her eye.
Han-bin leaned closer and whispered, teasing but alert, "Hey. Pace yourself."
Mi-yeon blinked, then nodded a little too earnestly.
"I am," she said.
She wasn't.
Across the table, Min-jae cheered loudly as Den pulled off another impossible trick. Someone spilled a drink. Someone else sang off-key.
The night kept going.
And no one noticed that Mi-yeon's cheeks were growing warmer than everyone else's.
Not yet.
After the sixth glass of soju, Mi-yeon started to drift.
Not in a sad way.
She was happy.
Genuinely, uncontrollably happy.
The entire group was laughing together. No tension. No quiet rivalries. No invisible lines. Just voices overlapping, glasses clinking, someone shouting rules to a game no one was really following anymore.
I'm part of this, she thought hazily.
I belong here.
The thought filled her chest with a warm, buoyant pride. It made her feel light—like she could dance, like she could fly, like gravity was suddenly optional.
She stood up abruptly.
"Let's dance!" she squealed, her voice bright and unfiltered, pure girlish excitement. "Come on, it's so fun tonight!"
The room tilted.
The floor swayed beneath her feet like a boat on water.
"Whoa—" she giggled. "I think I'm gonna fall."
She noticed Han-bin's worried look just before the world slipped sideways completely.
For a heartbeat—nothing.
Then arms.
Strong. Steady.
When Mi-yeon blinked her eyes open again, Den's face was right there in front of her.
He was holding her with both hands, firm and secure, not letting her drop even an inch.
"I'm weak… weak," she murmured, half-amused, pointing a finger at herself. "No more soju. This kitten is too drunk already."
Laughter erupted around them.
Mi-yeon heard it distantly.
Are they laughing at me?
She considered this for a second.
Oh… whatever. I don't care.
Nothing matters if he's holding me.
"Oops… I hiccupped."
She tried to focus on Den's face. It took effort.
"Will you…" hic, "…always…" hic, "…catch me if I f-f-fall?"
Den smiled, amused.
He was not teasing. It was not indulgent.
Just simple.
"Of course, Mi-yeon."
Something in her loosened at that.
She relaxed completely in his arms, surrendering without fear, and murmured softly just before her consciousness slipped away:
"Then… okay."
Den stood there in the middle of the bar, holding a small, passed-out girl in his arms.
Against her slight frame, he looked bigger than he actually was—solid, immovable, almost unreal.
Min-jae stared at the scene for a second, then snorted.
"You look like some action-movie bodyguard next to her," he said. "Planning to hold her like that all night?"
"Ma Dong-seok. Russian edition," Chang-woo added through a mouthful of food
Den glanced around helplessly, suddenly aware of the situation.
"Then where am I supposed to put her?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "There's not a single couch here. We need to take her home. Can you help?"
"Of course," Min-jae answered immediately.
Han-bin was already on her feet.
"I'm coming too," she said firmly. "If two guys bring a drunk girl back to the dorm, people will talk. If I'm there, no one will care."
That logic was flawless.
They said their goodbyes to the rest of the group, who waved and teased and promised to text later.
Den carefully carried Mi-yeon outside.
Min-jae and Han-bin held the door open for them, the noise of the bar spilling briefly into the night before the door swung shut.
The thick, warm air of the May night greeted them at the door.
Mi-yeon did not stir.
And Den did not let go.
15 May 2025. Tuesday. Late evening. SNU, men's dormitory.After walking the girls back, Den and Min-jae returned to their dorm room.
They moved quietly, almost automatically.
They washed their faces. Brushed their teeth. Folded their clothes neatly and placed them on their chairs.
Each climbed into his own bed.
Min-jae turned off the light.
Darkness settled—but sleep did not.
Den lay on his back, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling as if it owed him answers.
Min-jae lay on his stomach, hugging his pillow, eyes turned toward Den's silhouette.
He held it in for a while.
Then, inevitably:
"Den… are you going to tell me or not?"
Den did not turn his head.
"Tell you what?"
"You and Yu-ra," Min-jae said flatly. "Are you dating? After that speedway thing?"
"No."
"Oh, come on! You two go to eat together way too often to be just friends. It's been long enough. You can tell me now."
"Well put, dongsaeng. But still no."
There was a pause.
Min-jae lifted his head slightly.
"She rejected you?"
"No."
"…Did you reject Yu-ra?!"
Den turned his face just enough to look at his friend. In the dim light, his expression was hard to read.
"Who in their right mind would reject a girl like Yu-ra?" he said calmly. "I didn't. We're close friends. That's all."
Min-jae pouted into his pillow.
"I don't believe a single word you just said. I think you two are dating and just keeping it a secret."
Den exhaled quietly.
"What if I told you…"
He searched for the right words.
"…that I think I might be in love with someone else?"
Min-jae froze.
"You… think?"
"Yes. I think."
"…Mi-yeon?"
"…Mi-yeon."
Silence stretched between them.
Then Min-jae suddenly pushed himself up on his elbows.
"And?"
Den did not move.
"That's it. Go to sleep, Min-jae. Tomorrow I'm grilling meat all day at the festival. I need my rest."
Min-jae stared at him in disbelief.
"Hyung. How can you do this to me? I thought we were friends. How can you sleep after saying something like that? You owe me the full story."
A beat.
"Or I will literally die of curiosity."
Den closed his eyes.
"I will mourn you deeply in the morning," he said dryly. "Now shut up and sleep."
The room fell quiet again.
But neither of them fell asleep easily.