Episode 53
14 February 2026, Saturday. Late morning. Village Gotan-ri near Chuncheon, little hillside street off Chunhwa-ro, Jeong's family home.
The UAZ idled quietly, its engine humming low and steady. The luggage had already been loaded.
Bo-ra stepped out onto the porch, hurriedly pulling on her coat, carrying a large bag filled to the brim with neatly stacked food containers. She handed it to Den, adjusted the collar of his jacket, and immediately began scolding him—softly but persistently—for not wearing a scarf.
"It's really not sensible," she added, as if this were the most important thing in the world.
Jung-guk came next. He shook Den's hand firmly, wished him a safe trip, gave a short nod—no extra words.
Su-ha waved from the porch, her whole body involved in the gesture, and promised she would miss him.
Mi-yeon came last.
By then, everyone else had already gone back inside. Her fingers were twisted together, betraying her nerves more than her face did.
"Den… thank you," she said quietly. "For… for teaching me how to ski. And just… for being there."
He looked at her, searching for his own words.
"And thank you," he replied. "Your family is wonderful. It was… really special, being part of it. Even just for a little while. I'll remember it."
She met his eyes.
"I will too."
They looked away. Then—back at each other.
"We'll see each other soon, right?" Den asked. "Will you message me when you're back in Seoul?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling a little more neutrally than she felt.
"Of course. We'll go somewhere together. Definitely."
"Definitely."
A pause.
She hesitated, fighting with her own shyness. Then, almost abruptly, she pulled a small chocolate bar from her jacket pocket…
Just say to him: 'It's for you. Happy Valentine's Day.'
"This is… for you… I mean, for the trip, in case you feel hungry."
He took it carefully with both hands. "Thank you. Very much, Mi-yeon."
Den searched her eyes, trying to read whether this gesture meant anything beyond simple friendliness.
Then he nodded with a slightly defeated expression, more to himself than to her.
"I like those."
"Do you? Me too… It's great."
"Yeah…it's great. Very tasty."
She tugged at the hem of her sweater, unconsciously biting her lip.
Just hug me. Please. Just hug me.
"Then… bye?" she said.
"…Bye."
He stood there for one more second, wondering if he could hug her.
No. Don't. She already said no.
You're just a friend.
Don't ruin what little closeness you still have.
He got into the car. The metal door shut with a heavy clang. The UAZ growled softly and pulled away, disappearing down the road.
14 February 2026, Saturday. Early evening. SNU, men's dormitory.
By evening, Den had finally unpacked. He put the food Bo-ra had given him into the fridge and stretched out on his bed with a satisfied sigh.
The comfort faded quickly.
Min-jae hadn't returned yet and wouldn't for at least two weeks.
He was alone. After a few weeks in Mi-yeon's home, the loneliness felt sharper than usual.
He folded his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling.
He remembered skiing with her.
The way she looked at him during meals.
Washing dishes together.
Helping trim strawberry runners in the greenhouse.
A smile crept onto his face—then disappeared, replaced by a familiar ache. Her soft voice played out in his head.
'I'm sorry Den-nim, but no.'
'We should just be friends.'
He took out his phone and opened the photo they had taken together on the slopes. After a moment, he muttered softly to himself,
"It's hard… to love a friend."
14 February 2026, Saturday. Early evening. Village Gotan-ri near Chuncheon, little hillside street off Chunhwa-ro, Jeong's family home.
At the same time, Mi-yeon sat in her room.
Since Den had left, there was an emptiness in her eyes. She wasn't crying—she had long grown used to the idea that she couldn't be with him. But the loneliness swallowed her whole.
Soon, back at university, she would have to pretend again. Pretend he didn't matter. Watch other girls flirt with him. Cry quietly at night, clinging to rare memories—shared lectures, meals with friends, moments fate had allowed them to sit side by side.
Until the last moment, while he was here, she held on to the fragile hope that he would ask her to be with him once more. But he didn't.
She reached into her bag and took out a carefully folded sheet of paper.
She unfolded it and reread the poem he had given her.
별들은 보이지만
달에게는 무심한 얼음빛
해는 온기를 안고
헤매는 길, 달을 향한
달아, 두려워 말거라
검게 타버리는 해가
너 하나만을 비출 때
Bo-ra came in quietly and sat beside her on the bed. A mother's intuition told her something was wrong.
"What's that?" she asked gently.
Mi-yeon looked up, embarrassed, and smiled faintly.
"It's nothing, Mom. Den wrote it while studying for his Korean literature exam. A poem. It's simple… a bit childish in meaning, maybe.
But still.
It probably wasn't easy for him to write poetry in our language."
She handed the paper to her mother and added softly,
"It's about the Moon—how she's cold, and the Sun wants to warm her. So Sun searches for her and says it'll burn itself out just to shine for her. It's sweet… a very straightforward, almost naive kind of devotion and willingness to sacrifice. He doesn't realize that our poetry isn't supposed to be that direct."
Bo-ra read carefully. Then she looked at her daughter with warmth in her eyes.
"Mi-yeon," she said gently, "I think between the two of you, he's not the one who misunderstands Korean literature. You do."
She held the paper lightly.
"'Sun burns into blackness when it shines only on you alone'. It's not the sun's self-sacrifice. It's a description of an eclipse."
Mi-yeon took the paper and re-read it as it was intended:
The stars may be seen,
yet to the moon they give only a cold, indifferent light.
The sun carries warmth,
but wanders endlessly, failing to reach for the moon.
Moon, do not be afraid.
For when the sun is darkened in its burning,
there comes an eclipse —
when its light can belong to you alone.
Bo-ra placed her hand over Mi-yeon's, and in that moment, understanding struck her daughter all at once.
"I think," Bo-ra added softly, "it's time you stop being afraid of all your 'what ifs'… and start being afraid of 'what if not.'"
Mi-yeon looked at her mother, eyes shining.
Was he trying to tell me that he was still waiting for me?
That I still matter?
"Mom… I need to go to Seoul. Right now."
Bo-ra gasped in protest.
"Absolutely not!
First of all, it's already late.
Secondly, he just left—you'd lose all your dignity. And we're going to your grandparents' tomorrow for Seollal."
"But Mom!"
Bo-ra hugged her gently.
"No 'buts', no 'ifs'. You will go after Seollal. He's not leaving Korea any time soon and if he waited for you all this time, two more weeks won't change anything. Okay?"
Mi-yeon exhaled slowly.
"…Okay, Mom."
21 February 2026. Saturday. Noon. Parking lot near SNU's men dormitory.
Mi-yeon stood in front of the men's dorm, her breath fogging faintly in the cold, typing a message to Den.
Hi, Den! I'm back in Seoul.
Remember you asked me to tell you when I would arrive?
She smiled and sent another one right away.
Well, I'm here now! Come outside for a minute—I brought you something from my mom.
Den's phone was on vibrate, left on the bed. He was playing a video game on his laptop and didn't hear it.
Mi-yeon waited.
Then waited a little longer.
She tried calling once. The call went straight to voicemail.
More than thirty minutes later, Den finally stopped playing. He was planning to go to the kitchen, on the way out he grabbed his phone and checked it.
"Damn!"
He rushed to the window.
In the middle of the parking lot stood Mi-yeon.
He bolted out of the room, dialing her number as he ran.
She answered almost immediately.
"Hello?"
"Don't go anywhere. I'm already running!"
She didn't even have time to reply. He was already out of the building.
Mi-yeon smiled openly and waved when she saw him.
"Den! Hi!"
He ran up to her—and immediately noticed how cold she was.
"Mi-yeon! Why have you been standing out here this whole time? You're freezing!" he said anxiously. "Come inside, now. I'll get you something hot—there's a coffee machine in the lobby."
She smiled shyly.
"No, it's really okay… I just wanted to give you the rice cake my mom made."
"I don't want to hear it," he said firmly, already taking her by the elbow and guiding her toward the building. "Come on. Why didn't you call me?"
"I did," she answered quietly. "You probably didn't hear."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I just didn't expect you to come back so early. I thought you'd stay home until the very end of the break."
She pressed her lips together.
"I just… came back early because… I needed to…"
By then, Den had already reached the vending machines.
"I'll be right back," he said. "Don't lose your thought. I'll get you hot coffee."
Mi-yeon sat down on the edge of a couch in the dorm lobby, watching him with a mix of longing and dread.
Oh no… how am I supposed to explain this?
I can't even say it.
My tongue won't move.
Den returned with a cup of coffee and handed it to her, then sat down beside her.
"So," he said gently, "why did you come back early?"
She took a sip, completely thrown off by fear.
"Well… yes… I came back… you see… Den, I…"
He looked at her more closely now, as if sensing that something important was happening, and met her eyes directly.
That open, attentive gaze shattered what little courage she had left.
She dropped her eyes, cheeks burning, and spoke quickly in a small, timid voice.
"It's probably stupid… I just missed you. I got used to you always being there. We're friends… and you weren't there… and… so. I missed your friendship. As a friend, you know?"
Coward! You're such a coward, Mi-yeon.
You came all this way to tell him you like him—and this is what comes out?
That you missed a friends' friendship. Seriously?
Den sat quietly for a moment. He had the uneasy feeling that he was missing something—but there was no time to dwell on it. He had to respond.
So he said what felt right.
"I missed you too, Mi-yeon," he said honestly. "If that's the case… maybe we could go somewhere together?"
Her eyelashes fluttered up in startled hope.
"You mean… just the two of us? On a date?"
She must have looked more scared than excited.
Because he misunderstood her reaction as discomfort and immediately tried to clarify.
"No—sorry, that's not what I meant. I didn't mean anything romantic that might make you uncomfortable," he said quickly.
"I meant… we could just go somewhere together. Maybe an amusement park? How does that sound?"
"An amusement park?"
Mi-yeon felt a pang of disappointment at his careful words—but also relief at the idea of being together.
She smiled shyly.
"That sounds nice. I haven't been on rides in a long time. Just… let me sit here for a bit first. I really am cold. You can put the rice cake in the fridge while I warm up."
Den nodded, carefully took the box with both hands, and walked away.
Mi-yeon watched him go.
So… what does this mean?
He doesn't want to go on a date with me?
Or… does he just not realize that I want the same thing?
21 February 2026. Saturday. Late afternoon. Seoul, Songpa District, Lotte World Adventure Theme Park.
Den and Mi-yeon stood in line while he bought tickets for the rides and paid.
She watched him, then spoke—not angrily, but clearly embarrassed.
"Den… why did you pay for my tickets too? We're… not on a date. I feel awkward."
Den heard it not as a question, but as a statement, and answered with complete sincerity.
"Why can't friends look after each other?" he said simply.
"When I rented a room at your parents' house, you cooked for me and fed me for the whole time. You never once asked me to pay for that. So why wouldn't I buy you tickets to the rides?"
Mi-yeon smiled shyly.
What she wanted to hear was 'I paid because I want this to be a date'.
But she couldn't argue with logic that was so simple—and because of that, even more cruel.
"You're right…" she said softly. "We're close friends. I guess it's appropriate."
She hesitated, then added, almost testing the words, "Then… may I call you oppa?"
She looked at him nervously, trying to push against the walls she herself had built.
"Of course," Den said carefully, feeling like walking through the minefield. "Su-ha's been calling me that since day one."
Then he added:
"Come on—how about we start with the shooting booth? I want to win you a stuffed toy."
Mi-yeon nodded and followed him, biting her lip.
How you don't understand, she thought.
I don't want you to be just oppa like you are to Su-ha.
I want you to be my oppa. Only mine.
They went to the shooting booth. Mi-yeon flatly refused to shoot, but watched with held breath as Den aimed and fired. His score wasn't perfect, but good enough to win a small plush panda—no bigger than a hand.
He thanked the booth owner and handed the toy to her.
"Too bad I missed a couple of shots," he said. "We could've gotten a bigger one."
She pressed the panda to her chest.
"I like this one most," she said.
Then, almost immediately, "Let's go on the roller coaster."
Den turned to her slowly.
"The roller coaster… you want the roller coaster?"
In his mind, a quiet, modest Mi-yeon and a roller coaster did not belong in the same sentence.
"Yes," she said. "I want to try it. Let's go."
Den glanced away, visibly uneasy.
"Uh… okay."
As the line moved forward, his tension became impossible to miss. He kept shooting grim looks at the towering tracks, his hand gripping the railing so hard his knuckles turned white.
Mi-yeon noticed and smiled mischievously.
"Oppa," she teased, "are you scared?"
He lifted his head and answered too quickly, too sharply.
"Me? N-no!"
She leaned in slightly, raising an eyebrow.
Den exhaled.
"…Yes. I hate roller coasters. I've always been afraid of them."
She laughed.
"Then why are you even here? Just wait down below."
Relief flooded his face.
"Really? Okay."
He started to turn away. But just then, the gates opened and the ride attendant began letting people in.
Mi-yeon stepped forward.
Den watched her sit down, watched the other passengers take their seats.
He swallowed hard.
This is silly. I can do this.
No…I can't…
…Damn it.
He turned back, heart pounding, walked onto the platform, and sat down beside her. He silently fastened his own restraints. Then checked hers. His face pale with fear, he stared straight ahead—the way people stare before an execution.
Mi-yeon watched him with open curiosity.
"Den," she said, "you said you were scared and didn't want to ride."
"I am," he nodded. "And I don't."
"Then why did you still sit down?"
Without looking at her, he answered quietly.
"To be next to you."
The car began to move.
Den squeezed his eyes shut and muttered in Russian, his voice completely unrecognizable,
"Mother of God."
The car climbed higher and higher—to the sound of Mi-yeon's bright, delighted laughter.