Episode 35
19 May 2025, Monday. Late Afternoon. Entrance to auditorium 501-307.
Every time Den went somewhere, Mi-yeon was already leaving.
Every time a lecture ended, she slipped away faster than he could approach her calmly, without drawing attention. She did everything possible to avoid being alone with him—and Den understood why. Stopping her in front of everyone, forcing a conversation, would have meant creating a scene.
Mi-yeon was more afraid of scenes than of fire.
So, in the end, he made a decision.
He skipped the last class.
He waited for her outside the lecture hall.
When the lecture finished, classmates glanced at him with curiosity—wondering why he had not gone in, why he was standing by the door—but no one came up to ask. No one dared.
Only Min-jae texted him after noticing him in the hallway.
"Do you need me?"
Den replied immediately.
"No. It's fine. I'll see you at the dorm later."
But Mi-yeon still had not come out.
Students from their lecture and the neighboring classrooms were already streaming past.
The corridors began to empty.
Voices faded. Footsteps scattered. The day exhaled.
A few students passed by, casting curious looks his way. Den stood still—calm, confident, unmistakably waiting for someone.
It was impossible not to notice.
A couple of first-year girls from another department walked past—one smiled shyly, another whispered to her friend. Some guys looked back with interest. It was rare to see someone wait like this. So deliberately. So openly.
Soo-yeong and So-mi passed by together. Both fell silent the moment they saw him.
Den did not react.
He simply turned the keychain from his UAZ around his fingers—slow, steady, patient.
A few minutes later, the lecture hall door opened again.
Mi-yeon stepped out.
She clutched her notebook to her chest. Her backpack hung from one shoulder.
The walk was giving her away—nervous, careful, shoulders slightly tense.
She saw him standing by the entrance.
Not busy. Not passing by.
Not accidental.
Waiting.
For her.
She stopped.
For a full second, she froze—like her mind refused to believe what her eyes were seeing.
He… waited… for me…?
Her eyes widened.
Color bloomed across her cheeks.
She approached softly, afraid that moving too fast might shatter the moment.
She stopped two steps away.
She looked up at him, yet still could not quite lift her head all the way.
Her voice was barely a whisper, but painfully sincere.
"Who… are you waiting for?"
She asked it like the answer might undo her.
Like it might be one of the most important questions of her life.
Den answered gently.
"You.
Who else would I be waiting for? I'd only wait for the sweetest girl.
With all due respect to Professor Park—he really doesn't fit that description. And there's no one else left in the classroom."
It hit her like a physical blow.
Her cheeks flared red instantly, as if a light had switched on beneath her skin.
Her lashes trembled, eyes went wide.
Her thoughts tumbled, stunned and fragile.
He called me…the sweetest?
Me…?
No… I misheard…
I must have…
"W-what…?"
The word slipped out automatically—her mind simply could not process what it had heard.
Den smiled.
"What?"
Her breathing stumbled. She fumbled with her bag, trying to hide her embarrassment, but the gesture was so clumsy, so earnest, it only made her more endearing.
"N-no, nothing… I just…"
She swallowed.
"…shall we go?"
Den answered without hesitation.
"Yeah. Let's go."
That 'let's go' loosened something in her chest.
They walked side by side.
He did not rush.
He matched her slower pace—naturally.
He accepted her rhythm.
It was something few people ever did.
And to a girl exhausted by her own feelings, that small act was more devastating than any confession:
Mi-yeon walked half a step behind—out of habit—
but every now and then she stole a glance, just to make sure he was really there.
From a second-floor window nearby, two figures watched.
Soo-yeong and So-mi.
Both wore the same tight, unreadable expressions.
Soo-yeong whispered, disbelief thick in her voice.
"She's… really walking with him?
God, does this girl have any dignity?"
So-mi's lips pressed into a thin line.
"That's enough. We'll deal with this today."
Meanwhile, Den and Mi-yeon entered the park.
Campus noise faded behind them.
It grew quieter.
Leaves whispered among the trees.
A light breeze lifted Mi-yeon's hair—she tucked a strand behind her ear, awkwardly, unconsciously, achingly sweet.
She did not dare speak first.
But inside her, her thoughts were screaming.
Why… why did he wait for me?
Doesn't he have Yu-ra?
Am I… important to him?
No—don't think that!
Her eyes darted along the path, anxious.
Why is he doing this to me?
This is so cruel!
But…
He just waited… Friends wait, right?
We're just friends…
It's not his fault that I'm falling for him.
A man with zero nunchi would not know that.
If I care about him, I should be a good friend.
She glanced at him again—and for the first time all day, her gaze was open.
Soft. Careful.
A look full of pain, with the faintest spark of hope trying to survive beneath it.
She whispered, almost inaudibly,
"Thank you… for waiting for me."
Her words were quieter than the leaves beneath their feet, yet they carried more weight than everything said at the university that day.
She did not say it out of politeness.
Not as a formality.
But as something dangerously close to a truth—one she was still afraid to call a confession.
Her shoulders loosened a little, as if she were finally allowing herself to breathe out.
She kept her eyes forward, not on him—
it was easier to speak without meeting his gaze, easier to be honest when no one was looking straight into her soul.
Inside, everything trembled. She scolded herself mercilessly.
Jeong Mi-yeon. You behaved like an egoist all day.
You avoided him—obviously, rudely.
You can't even be a decent friend.
What did he do wrong? He's your friend, not your boyfriend.
He has the right to kiss another girl.
You have no right to be mad!
And still—he could have left.
He could have been offended.
But he stood there and waited.
For you.
While you played the martyr.
Idiot.
Den walked beside her, and it felt as if the park adjusted itself to their pace—the path smoothed out, the noise of the world retreated, the evening grew gentler.
She added, in the same quiet voice, almost as an excuse,
"I just…I'm not good at being fast…
I'm always scared… of doing something wrong…
Forgive me… please."
She fell silent, as if afraid she had said too much.
Her fingers tightened around the strap of her backpack, then slowly loosened.
And finally, she gathered the courage to look up at him.
Her gaze was still cautious.
"You're… not angry, are you?"
She asked it almost like a child.
As if the answer would decide whether she was allowed to take one more step—not with her feet, but with her heart.
Den, lost in his own heavy thoughts, did not immediately realize she was addressing him—and understood even less why she was apologizing.
He honestly did not know what the right answer was.
But instinct told him he was walking on thin ice.
So he spoke carefully.
"Of course I'm not angry.
How could I be angry at you?
That's completely impossible."
He paused, then added honestly,
"I'm sorry I didn't manage to spend time with you earlier. The whole day… I couldn't seem to find you anywhere."
The park kept whispering with leaves. A warm wind brushed the branches.
And time seemed to wait again—calmly, patiently, the way he had waited for her by the lecture hall door.
Mi-yeon, unsure what to say, smiled—small and shy—trying to lighten the moment with a joke.
"Why did you go looking for me everywhere? You have my number.
You could've just texted me, silly."
Den looked embarrassed.
"Yeah… you're right. I… somehow didn't think of that."
Then, after a brief hesitation, he added,
"And… would you like to…
He hesitated.
Would you like to go to the pond and feed the ducks?
I saw a notice yesterday. They installed a special container with proper duck food, so people wouldn't feed them bread anymore.
Do you want to?"
Mi-yeon smiled sincerely.
She had grown up in the countryside.
Feeding birds had been a normal morning routine for her.
For the first time that day, light thoughts passed through her mind.
He's clearly a city kid. He probably thinks this is cute and romantic.
It's funny…
But also really sweet that he thought of this for me.
"Okay," she said softly.
"Let's go."