DD Chapter 1.1

“Anyone who’s taken, fold your finger!”
At the lively voice, it felt as if the noise in the bar had suddenly paused. Han-young’s pinky, which had been extended along with the other four fingers, flinched slightly. The high-pitched tone sounded like a crack forming on glass.

For a moment, his fingers seemed ready to fold, but quickly returned to their original position. The person he glanced at hadn’t folded any fingers either.
The junior who had asked the question had her eyes fixed in one direction—specifically, on the face of the person Han-young had checked.

“Jung-woo oppa, don’t lie and pretend you’ve only got one finger left.”

“I’m not. So can everyone stop asking these questions like they’re aimed at me? Please?”
Choi Jung-woo wiggled his remaining pinky finger, as if to assert his innocence—or maybe to show his discomfort.

Han-young looked at him with faintly puzzled eyes.

“Anyone in the student council, fold your finger!”

Did we break up while I was in the military?

“That’s harsh.”
That couldn’t be it. Just a few days ago, Choi Jung-woo had whispered affectionate words to him.

“Happy now?”
Tap.

Jung-woo emptied his glass clean and wiped his wet lips. Not once during the whole sequence of actions did he meet Han-young’s gaze. In the end, Han-young had no choice but to look away first.

Even though he was being ignored by someone who was probably still his boyfriend, he didn’t feel all that bad. Relationship gossip spreads easily, and more so when the partner is male. He could understand why Jung-woo was staying silent.

What he hadn’t expected was how effortlessly he could be dismissed like this.

“Seo Han-young, where are you going?”

“Just getting some air.”

After a few more empty glasses, Han-young stood with a casual smile.
“Don’t think about ditching us. Get back here soon.”

“I’m not ditching. When have I ever ditched a place like this?”

“Never.”

He gave a friendly nudge to a giggling classmate and turned away. The bar, still lively from the start-of-semester party, was packed. Even just stepping outside meant exchanging several goodbyes.

The outside was just as noisy. The presence of others clung to him like a long shadow. Naturally, Han-young slipped into a quiet alley. It wasn’t that he disliked the noise—it just felt like a good moment to catch his breath.

The alley, untouched by the colorful lights, was dark and still. Perfect for sobering up.

“Ah, my cigarettes…”

He had left them behind.

As his hand reflexively reached for his pocket, Han-young realized his cigarettes were in the jacket he’d taken off and left inside the bar. He sighed. His breath, heavy with alcohol, flowed out like cigarette smoke. His red lips parted slightly in frustration.

“Want one?”

The familiar voice cut in just then. Step, step. Footsteps came steadily closer, accompanied by a deep cologne scent brushing past his nose.

Han-young glanced over, already half guessing who it was.

“No thanks. Yours are too strong—they give me a headache.”

“Yeah?”

Choi Jung-woo replied indifferently, stepped up beside him, and pulled out a cigarette. The silver Zippo lighter engraved with initials sparked and lit the tip. He inhaled deeply, his cheeks hollowing from the effort—and then, suddenly, he leaned in and kissed him.

“Ugh, what are you doing?”

The harsh smoke hit his throat instantly. Without time to resist, Han-young broke into a fit of coughing.

“That way it’s less harsh.”

From close by, Choi Jung-woo locked eyes with Han-young, flashing a sly smile. It was almost laughable how he had so thoroughly ignored him just moments ago, only to act all coy now. Despite his face flushed red from coughing, Han-young ended up smiling faintly.

“Were you upset?”

Jung-woo brushed Han-young’s cheek with the back of his fingers, then held out his hand, palm wide open—referring to the game from earlier.

Was he upset? No, more like…

“I was just… wondering if we’d broken up or something.”

“Wow, Seo Han-young, that’s cold. How can you jump to that conclusion so fast?”

Jung-woo let out an exaggerated breath, feigning reproach. His expression quickly shifted to one of unjust offense.

“You know how it is. I’d love to be upfront about us too, but realistically, it’s not that simple.”

“I know.”

How could he not understand what Jung-woo meant by ‘realistically’? He knew well enough. That’s why he wasn’t upset. Still, the memory of Jung-woo holding both his hands and confessing his love lingered vividly.

“Wanna come over tonight?”

The subtle suggestion was anything but—it was clearly a proposition for sex. Jung-woo gently stroked Han-young’s cheek and the area around his ear with the same hand holding his cigarette. The sudden cold touch made Han-young flinch.

“It’s been a while since we… you know?”

Jung-woo pressed slightly harder as if to coax an answer, rubbing against Han-young’s skin. Caught in his grasp, Han-young hesitated to respond.

To be honest, their physical relationship wasn’t great. They’d only slept together less than five times, and it was more painful than pleasurable every time. He endured it because he liked the warmth, the clarity of being held by someone.

“You don’t want to?”

Jung-woo’s voice hitched slightly at the end. A sign that his patience—fueled by pride—was running thin. Han-young was about to shake his head and say no.

But then, like someone had just set their gaze on him, an unexpected chill ran down his spine.

Startled, Han-young quickly looked toward the end of the alley.

“…Ah.”

And froze. It wasn’t his imagination. At the edge of the shadows, someone was standing. Their face wasn’t visible, but he could tell—they were tall. Very tall.

“What is it?”

Jung-woo, sensing something was off, followed Han-young’s gaze and turned to look too. But by then, the figure had vanished. When Jung-woo looked back again, the spot was already empty.

“….”

Had they seen? Had they heard?

There was no way their words and actions just now could be excused as something between ‘just friends.’

Han-young’s body tensed, anticipating the worst. His breath caught as he imagined the contemptuous stares that might greet him the moment he stepped back into the bar.

“Was someone there?”

“Yeah… I think we made eye contact.”

Choi Jung-woo’s expression twisted slightly in a frown. But only for a moment—soon enough, he wore his usual casual smile.

“Well, it was dark. They probably didn’t see anything. How are you feeling? The buzz wearing off?”

“I wasn’t that drunk to begin with.”

“That’s good. Then shall we head back in?”

Finishing his sentence, Jung-woo turned first. The cigarette he’d been smoking was tossed carelessly into a puddle on the ground.

“Shit, it splashed. Disgusting.”

As Jung-woo stepped forward, the shallow puddles splattered upward, soaking the hem of his pitch-black trousers and loafers.

He glanced down with a click of his tongue and continued walking without hesitation—stepping on a waterlogged, unrecognizable flyer as he passed. Han-young’s gaze lingered on the soggy scrap of paper before following him inside.

“Where’d you go?”

“Just stepped outside for a bit. Thought Han-young looked like he needed a break.”

“Look at this guy. Acting all senior-like.”

Jung-woo’s demeanor was natural—so natural it made you wonder, Was that really why? Almost convincing.

Then again, it wasn’t entirely wrong either, so Han-young didn’t feel the need to add anything. Instead, he sat down quietly. The fresh air had helped clear his head a little, and now he was parched.

“Seo Han-young, you drinking?”

“Yeah. Just beer—don’t mix it.”

Cold beer filled the glass to the brim. He lightly clinked it with a classmate’s, then took a long sip. The sharp fizz slid down his throat, almost like it was washing down all the unsaid words that had been stuck there.

Clink.
Just as he put down the glass after drinking more than half in one go, there was a soft screech—the sound of a chair slowly being pulled back. In the noisy surroundings, it should’ve gone unnoticed, yet somehow it rang sharply in his ears.

“……”

The first thing to catch his attention was a large hand gripping the edge of the chair. Then came the sleek black leather watch, the immaculate cuff of a shirt, and the clean skin peeking through in between.

The man was tall—so tall Han-young had to tilt his head quite a bit to see his face.

And the moment he finally looked up at the man’s face, Han-young froze.

Wait… this person…

The man was already looking straight at him. Han-young couldn’t look away. Those snake-like eyes locked onto his and didn’t let go. Whether he meant to or not, he had no choice but to meet that gaze.

The longer their eyes met, the more his shock turned into awe.

The man stood out—elegant and refined amid the coarse, dim surroundings. He felt so out of place in this space that it was surreal. Especially his eyes—cool, yet brilliantly bright. They sparkled like rippling water as he looked down at Han-young.

His slightly long hair fell naturally into place. The sharp slant of his eyes where the strands touched only made him more striking. And below, the small tear-shaped mole, perfectly placed beneath his eye.

Hair that looked soft at a glance was swept back by his own hand. The man’s face, now fully revealed, was beautiful.

“Can I sit here?”

He was already seated when he asked for permission with little sincerity.

“Ah, yes… I don’t think anyone will mind. It’s been empty for a while.”

“You must’ve been bored, sitting alone.”

The sharp shape of his eyes, which added to his cold impression, subtly softened. Han-young found himself forgetting how to breathe as he stared.

How can a person’s face be like that…?

It was beyond impressive now—it was baffling. Just one smile from him lit up the room like a spotlight had turned on. It was absurd.

“Whoa, Shin Jae-yi!”

That was the end of their conversation. Someone nearby, their eyes wide with excitement, had called out to him.

Naturally, he drew everyone’s attention. Han-young could feel the gazes gradually shifting toward him. The density of attention was unmistakably different from a moment ago.

Half caught in the middle of it all, Han-young leaned toward a fellow classmate and whispered, barely audible:

“Why is he here?”

“Who, oh—Jae-yi hyung? He used to be in the law department, but he transferred to ours last year.”

“Why?”

“No idea. I’ve never asked. Oh, but his English is insanely good.”

The classmate replied offhandedly before turning back to their table’s conversation. Only Han-young remained stunned by the unexpected revelation, staring at the man seated across from him.

Something about him felt unfamiliar yet oddly familiar. And now that he’d heard the name, he was sure.

Shin Jae-yi.

They had never spoken before today, not even once. But Han-young knew who he was.

“Representing South Korea, Shin Jae-yi!”

A rising fencing star. Golden performances. It was something along those lines. Most people here probably didn’t know, and Han-young had almost forgotten, but now it all came back. He remembered clearly—Shin Jae-yi standing on the electric tension-soaked stage of a match.

“Shin Jae-yi, your hair’s gotten so long. How is your hair better than mine? Were you just born with everything?”

“Yeah.”

“Look how shameless you are.”

“Didn’t you say that was part of my charm?”

Shin Jae-yi tilted his head as an upperclassman affectionately ran their hand through his hair. His lips curved up at the same angle. Every small gesture was smooth and elegant—nothing particularly special, yet it effortlessly drew the eye.

“Come on, tell me your secret.”

“Just use a lot of treatment.”

Shin Jae-yi muttered as he looked back down at his phone. His gentle tone made it sound almost playful. The upperclassman laughed and lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Jae-yi, you’re coming with us to the second round, right?”

“Hmm… I’ll see?”

Shin Jae-yi, who had been dragging out his words, suddenly lifted his head. Because his gaze was fixed straight ahead, his eyes met Han-young’s immediately.

Shin Jae-yi didn’t look away. On the contrary, he stared as if trying to dig into Han-young’s insides. Under that strangely colored gaze, Han-young swallowed hard. There was a tension in his cheek, as if the look in Shin Jae-yi’s eyes—like someone observing something interesting—was slowly stealing away his composure. The ease in his gaze seemed to rob Han-young of his own.

As they locked eyes like that, Han-young instinctively realized something else.

“……”

That the presence he’d felt in the alley just before… had been Shin Jae-yi.

—

He became close with Choi Jung-woo when he was a freshman at twenty.

“Seo Han-young, right? I’m Choi Jung-woo. Nice to meet you.”

A senior two years older, Jung-woo got along easily with everyone. Not just with peers, but also with upperclassmen, underclassmen, and even professors. Han-young, who was living alone for the first time in his life and subconsciously craving human warmth, easily found himself drawn into his orbit.

Jung-woo was someone who knew how to shorten the distance between people. He’d casually throw an arm around your shoulder or playfully tap your face. Because he was so warm and approachable, it was only natural to follow his lead.

A senior who felt like an older brother—that’s how Han-young saw Choi Jung-woo.

“Seo Han-young, wanna date me?”

That is, until the end of the first semester, when Jung-woo confessed to him.

“You mean like… date, date?”

“Yeah. Like, be in a relationship.”

“You… like guys, hyung?”

“Honestly, no. But I want to try dating you.”

Even as he confessed, Jung-woo didn’t hesitate. Unlike Han-young, who had to struggle to keep his voice from trembling.

“What about Jae-yeon noona?”

“We broke up.”

Coming from someone known for his endless flings with women, those words didn’t carry much weight at first.

Would he ever have expected Choi Jung-woo to say something like that to him? No. And even if he had, Han-young had never once thought of him that way.

So he used the military as an excuse to turn him down. Jung-woo gave a short reply—“Alright.”

After that, the semester ended, and contact with Jung-woo stopped.

They met again in November, when Jung-woo was out on leave from his military service.

“Oh? Seo Han-young! You look like a chestnut now!”

It was a chance encounter, but Jung-woo approached him like no time had passed. Grinning brightly, he even rubbed Han-young’s closely shaved head with rough affection.

“Still not thinking of dating me? I haven’t seen anyone while waiting for you.”

I like you, Seo Han-young.

He whispered such embarrassingly sweet words while reaching out his hand. His unwavering attitude was so consistent, it felt more strange than impressive—almost incomprehensible.

“How should I confess so you’ll say yes?”

“Hyung, I’ve… never thought of you that way.”

“But people can change their minds once they start dating, right? I can wait. I’ll treat you well.”

Maybe it was because he had just come back from the harshness of military life, but Choi Jung-woo’s words and actions hit Han-young unusually hard in that moment.

“Seo Han-young, I’m not joking around. I want to be with you.”

“…You’re the one who asked a soldier to date, so don’t regret it later.”

Around that time, Han-young finally took Jung-woo’s hand. The cold winter wind was harsh and biting, Jung-woo’s touch was unexpectedly welcome, and more than anything—he didn’t want to be alone. So began a relationship that wasn’t quite a relationship.

Dating someone in the military came with heavy restrictions. Even when he got leave, it was only for a few days. Although they’d officially been together for over a year, the time they had actually spent side by side barely added up to a few months.

Still, Han-young gave it his all. Because their time was limited, he tried twice as hard. Their relationship had begun with uneven feelings—he knew that. Afraid he might hurt Jung-woo, he gave everything he could.

Before he knew it, Jung-woo was out of uniform and sitting across from him again, just like when they were freshmen.

Only now, they were bound together as lovers.

“Seo Han-young, aren’t you going to take this?”

A voice so familiar it was ingrained in his memory suddenly stabbed into his ear. When he turned his head quickly, Choi Jung-woo was sitting beside him before he even realized it. His gaze was gently warm—perfectly mimicking the demeanor of an ordinary, friendly senior.

“Oh, uh… Just half a glass.”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Han-young lifted his glass and offered it. But his eyes unconsciously drifted toward Shin Jae-yi. Unlike before, their eyes didn’t meet this time.

Still, Han-young was sure that the presence he had felt in the alley had been Shin Jae-yi. If it hadn’t been, then the gaze from earlier made no sense.

“…”

Did he… not notice?

Shin Jae-yi was chatting with the senior next to him. He looked like he was focused on his phone, yet still responded smoothly to the senior’s questions. The senior leaned in closer, sneaking glances at Shin Jae-yi’s phone.

“Snooping around is your hobby now?”

Noticing the stare, Shin Jae-yi asked without missing a beat. His posture was calm, unbothered. Even sitting so casually, his form was graceful. It made him stand out even more next to the slouched senior.

“Who’re you texting?”

“My lover.”

“Yeah, right. We all know you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh? That’s the rumor going around?”

Shin Jae-yi gave a soft chuckle and flipped his phone face down. Then he turned his head slightly and looked at the senior.

“Wanna be my girlfriend?”

His voice was quiet as he asked, and the way he looked down at the senior with his chin propped on his hand was smooth, almost languid.

“What? What are you—forget it! Why would I be your girlfriend?”

“Then scoot over a bit. You keep sneaking glances, it’s confusing. Makes me think we’re actually dating and I just forgot.”

There was no malice in his voice. Even so, the senior flushed and opened her mouth to respond, flustered. Shin Jae-yi, unbothered by her reaction, casually flipped his phone over and left it on the table, smiling softly.

“Sitting crooked like that’ll mess up your back. Be careful.”

Han-young, who had been quietly observing, looked away and took a sip from his drink.

Is that kindness… or indifference?
A laugh almost slipped out before he caught himself, swallowing it down with his beer. For a moment, he thought someone was looking at him, but when he glanced around, no one was.

As the mood lightened, the drinking games resumed. But the longer they went on, the more puzzled Han-young became. It felt like the game was strangely focused on cornering Choi Jung-woo and the junior who had pointed him out earlier.

“Love shot! You two, hurry up!”

“Can’t you see Yeon-ji’s uncomfortable? Stop teasing them.”

“Are you the one embarrassed, Choi Jung-woo? If it’s that bad, just do it with Han-young instead.”

The junior, Yeon-ji, blushed faintly and stole glances at Jung-woo. Her shyness was obvious.

“I don’t mind.”

“Wow, Kim Yeon-ji’s braver than Choi Jung-woo.”

“Hah… seriously…”

Letting out a half-laugh that sounded more like a sigh, Jung-woo ran a hand through his hair. His face showed that familiar expression he always wore when he was in a tough spot.

Han-young watched him silently. Since the group had widened his options, Han-young assumed he’d look back at him.

“Let’s stop with the childish stuff, yeah?”

But Jung-woo didn’t look at Han-young. Instead, he leaned toward Kim Yeon-ji and drank with her.

“You two look good together!”

As the group cheered and jeered playfully, Han-young found himself frozen, blinking slowly.

…What the hell?

Is this just part of the game? So they’re pretending because they can’t get caught?

The situation didn’t make sense. His gaze turned sour, especially since he couldn’t confront it right now. Suddenly, this whole gathering felt like wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

“What? You leaving?”

“Bathroom.”

Han-young stood up abruptly, grabbing his coat with a slightly rushed hand and turning away, deliberately avoiding Jung-woo’s gaze. Shin Jae-yi’s eyes followed him, but Han-young didn’t notice.

He headed back to the alleyway he had visited earlier. Standing at the far end, where no light reached, he pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag—so deep it made his head spin—before slowly exhaling the smoke.

“……”

Through the haze of cigarette smoke, the scene from moments ago replayed itself like a mirage. A crack appeared on the face Han-young had worked so hard to keep calm. That’s when he realized—he was angry at Choi Jung-woo.

‘You know it too. I want to be honest about everything, but realistically, it’s not that simple.’

The memory of Jung-woo whispering those shameless words overlapped with the recent love shot, and before he could suppress it, a bitter laugh escaped him. Unlike earlier, when he could let it go, this time it twisted something inside him.

“This is ridiculous…”

The quiet words left him coldly. Han-young bit down on the cigarette filter, trying to steady himself. If Choi Jung-woo tried to come over tonight, he’d kick him out on the spot—he swore it.

“You weren’t talking about me, were you?”

A pleasant voice rang out. Han-young flinched and quickly turned to see who it was.

“Ah.”

He had assumed it would be Jung-woo. But surprisingly, it wasn’t. It was Shin Jae-yi.

Waving his hand hastily, Han-young shook his head.

“Absolutely not. Just talking to myself. Uh… hello.”

“Yeah. Hi.”

As Han-young quickly put out his cigarette and returned the greeting belatedly, Jae-yi gave a small laugh and nodded slightly.

“You could’ve kept smoking.”

Shin Jae-yi casually stepped up beside him and put a cigarette to his lips. Well—put might’ve been too generous. It was barely hanging from the corner of his mouth, like it could fall at any second. He didn’t even bother lighting it.

What is Shin Jae-yi doing here…?

Han-young glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be calm while his nerves buzzed. Maybe it was guilt, but his whole body felt tense.