WW | Chapter 20

“Okay. What time do you finish?”

“Eleven.”

“Perfect. We can go to the Han River afterward, grab some ramen, and hang out. Right?”

“I have to head straight home when I’m done.”

Although Yul had given Geonju the location of the convenience store, she tried hard not to leave any room for him to think otherwise. She felt like she was sinking deeper into a swamp, with no lifeline in sight.

“Geez, you’re no fun. Hey, I’m—”

Just as Geonju was about to continue, annoyed by her repeated rejections, bang. The sound of a volleyball hitting the wall nearby echoed like a balloon reaching its breaking point. Everyone, including Yul, startled and turned to look. Across the court, beyond the net, was Yoonjo, bouncing the ball back and forth. Geonju muttered a curse under his breath.

“That son of a—”

As Geonju’s curse ended, Yoonjo tossed the volleyball high into the air and, timing it perfectly, jumped and smacked it hard. The ball soared over the net, veering slightly to the side and hitting the wall near Yul with a force that made it seem like it would break through. It then bounced to the floor. If it had been a little closer, someone in the group could have been hurt by that projectile—not Yul, as she was surrounded by people, but still.

The direction of the ball seemed almost intentionally aimed, making everyone in the group look scared. While they murmured in shock and spat out curses, the class president ran over to retrieve the ball.

“Hey, sorry about that, guys.”

“Hey, you jerk! Can’t you serve properly?”

Even though Yoonjo was the one at fault, Geonju unleashed his anger on the class president, yelling and cursing. The class president, who hadn’t done anything wrong, apologized repeatedly and quickly went back with the ball.

“Tsk.”

Geonju, visibly annoyed, shot a glance at Yul and turned away.

“I’ll see you later.”

Choi Seohee gave Yul a jab to the forehead with her index finger before walking off. As the people surrounding her disappeared, the space around Yul felt brighter. She clutched the bench with trembling hands, pretending everything was fine. Her gaze drifted to Yoonjo, who was focused entirely on the game, not sparing a glance her way. It seemed it was just a stray serve that happened to land near her. Even so, Yul found herself staring at Yoonjo, as if clinging to an invisible rope. Then, when she looked away, her eyes met Jieun’s from across the gym. Jieun mouthed a question with a worried expression.

Are you okay?

Yul nodded, as if to reassure her friend, though she couldn’t quite shake the feeling.

Yul remembered the tension she’d felt as a kid just before the starting gun for a 100-meter race—the pounding heartbeat that almost felt faster than her sprint. She’d even wondered if she might die from a heart attack before reaching the finish line. That’s exactly how she felt after escaping from Seohee and her group.

When she returned to class after calming herself in the bathroom, it was empty. While a few students from the next class stayed for after-school study, not a single person in Class 6 had stayed, showing just how little interest they had in college. The whole atmosphere weighed her down.

“Don’t stress about it too much. Choi Seohee’s been like that forever.”

Jieun sat next to Yul, trying to comfort her. She’d come back to check on Yul after seeing how worried she looked.

“I should’ve been there with you then. I’m sorry, Yul.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

“Still, it’s better to face things together than alone, right?”

“It’s fine. Thanks anyway.”

Even though her mind was a mess, she couldn’t turn away a friend who’d come to check on her. She appreciated that Jieun didn’t hold a grudge from earlier and had come to see her anyway, despite the incident in the locker room. Yul knew that being friends with her meant Jieun could also end up as a target for Seohee and her group, yet she stayed by her side regardless.

“You’d be lost without me, right?”

“Yeah, only you.”

Jieun’s playful words made Yul smile. In truth, having a friend by her side was nice. Having someone to rely on was comforting, even if it was sometimes overwhelming. Jieun, she admitted, was a good friend.

As they left the classroom, Jieun naturally looped her arm around Yul’s. At first, it had felt awkward, but by now, she’d gotten used to it.

“Oh, right. Didn’t it seem like Kang Yoonjo was helping you out during P.E. earlier?”

Jieun suddenly brought it up, glancing at Yul.

“I don’t think so.”

“He kept looking in your direction, though.”

“You probably just saw wrong, or maybe he was just curious about the commotion.”

Yul replied flatly. She had briefly thought about it when the ball had flown so precisely toward her, feeling her heart drop when their eyes met. But after he’d turned away, she realized she was mistaken. It was just a coincidence, a stray shot, and he’d probably looked over because of the ruckus around her.

“Really? You’re sure there’s nothing going on between you and Yoonjo?”

“There isn’t.”

“I guess that makes sense. He doesn’t seem like the type to care about others. I’m just saying this because I’m worried about you—don’t get involved with Yoonjo, okay? It’s only trouble for you.”

Jieun seemed relieved and leaned in closer to Yul. Yul understood that Jieun was wary of Yoonjo’s infamous reputation, but she felt differently. They’d had a few coincidental encounters. And while he’d been unsettling at times, he hadn’t felt as scary or as bad as the rumors suggested. If anything, she felt a strange calmness around him, as if her worries were sinking away. But given the situation, she chose not to voice these thoughts.

“Oh, by the way, Yul, the cleaning assignments are changing soon, right? I asked the class president to put you and me together in the classroom. Isn’t that great?”

“Oh… right.”

Yul was a bit taken aback but answered as if it was no big deal. Class 6 was responsible for areas outside the classroom, including the library and the nurse’s office. As a transfer student with the last seat number, she’d been assigned to clean the library with the other back-row students. She’d secretly hoped for that, but Jieun had changed it without even asking her.

Jieun sometimes crossed boundaries like this. Yul enjoyed their friendship, but there were moments when Jieun’s words or actions felt intrusive. Today, she’d sensed this repeatedly, but she kept quiet, pretending not to notice. She didn’t want to make things awkward again after already confronting Jieun in the locker room. After all, she’d even stayed to cheer her up.

“Yul, when I first saw you, you felt like someone from a totally different world, you know?”

“Huh?”

“But it’s a relief that’s not the case.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just saying I’m glad.”

Jieun smiled brightly, and although she meant no harm, Yul couldn’t quite shake an uncomfortable feeling.

Today, Kang Yoonjo wasn’t at the bus stop. Then again, he was absent more often than not.

Yul wondered if she missed him by a hair or if he simply took a different route home. What she knew for sure was that the two times they’d sat together, he’d seemed to be headed somewhere other than home. Maybe it was Buam-dong he was going to.

She found herself thinking about him, likely because their encounters had left a strong impression. It wasn’t exactly comfortable; instead, she felt an inexplicable need to pay attention to him. He hadn’t bothered her since, but he had still become an oddly unsettling presence. So today, with her in poor condition, she felt relief that he wasn’t there.

As soon as she got on the bus, Yul sat down in an empty seat at the back and leaned against it. Out of habit, she pulled out her notebook and pencil, but she couldn’t manage to draw even a single line. Her stomach hurt, her head throbbed, and her eyes felt like they were about to pop out. Her head banged against the window as the bus jostled, but she didn’t have the energy to sit up.

Eventually, Yul gave up on drawing and closed her eyes, slipping into a half-sleep.

The bus would stop and go, but at some point, she felt someone sit down next to her. Already half-asleep, she didn’t have the strength to open her eyes and see who it was. There was a faint scent in the air—a mix of something fresh like grass, with a subtle hint of wildflowers and a sturdy woodsy undertone.

At some point, her head lolled off the window and fell to the other side, finding a surprisingly comfortable resting spot. Her last sliver of consciousness faded.

Even as she drifted into sleep, she noticed the light on her face disappearing, as if someone had kindly shaded her from it.

It was the first satisfying sleep she’d had in a while, even feeling as though she might have shed a tear or two.

She woke up when the bell near the window beside her gave a loud beep. Jolting awake, Yul’s eyes shot open. She glanced around and found herself staring straight into Yoonjo’s eyes.

“Aren’t you getting off?”

“Huh?”

“Seoun Intersection. Isn’t this where you always get off?”

Trying to snap her out of her daze, Yoonjo motioned to the window with his eyes.

At his blunt words, Yul quickly turned to look out the window, seeing the familiar buildings, shops, and streets. Only then did she realize they were at her stop. The bus hadn’t passed the intersection yet, but it would soon, meaning she’d need to get off quickly.

How did I manage to sleep so deeply? She thought to herself, realizing she had no room to judge Yoonjo’s constant dozing.

Yoonjo stood up, stepping aside to clear the way for her. Still not fully awake, Yul grabbed her bag and rose, holding onto the edge of the seat as she made her way down the aisle. She was just two steps into the aisle when the bus, halted by a red light, suddenly lurched to a stop.

“Aah!”