Chapter 39 : Travel (5)

On our last day, we shared our first impressions of each other. Gu Yuri, ever the natural MC, took charge.

She fashioned a makeshift microphone by sticking a spoon into a soda bottle and began.

“Alright, Han Dojun’s turn! Clockwise, starting with…”

“A good-looking idiot,” someone said.
“Amazing actor,” another added.
“Handsome and quiet.”

I thought for a moment, then offered my honest assessment.

“An idiot?”

Dojun frowned.

“Hey, the first time I talked to him, he looked me in the eye and said, ‘Who cares?’” I explained.
“He’s crazier than I thought.”

My comment elicited more laughter. Yuri smiled warmly, then asked, “What about your current impressions?”

This time, everyone’s answer was the same:

“Crazy.”

My turn came.

“Lee Haram! Chaerin, you’re first!”

Chaerin smirked.

“A nine-tailed fox.”

I frowned, confused. But everyone else nodded in agreement.

“What? What did I even do?”
“That’s the problem. You don’t even know.”

Junseok added,

“Yeah, your subconscious completely crushed Jaehoon’s innocent heart.”
“I did no such…”

Junseok, who had called Dojun an idiot earlier, chimed in,

“Idiot number two.”
“Hey!”

Being compared to Han Dojun was unacceptable. I yelled indignantly, and Yuri quickly intervened, restoring order.

After everyone shared their first impressions, it was time for current impressions.

Chaerin, brimming with confidence, declared,

“A nine-tailed bear.”

What was that even supposed to mean? I looked around, bewildered, but everyone else nodded in agreement.

Park Saeron, escaping the noisy room, stepped outside and sat on a wooden platform in the yard. He looked up at the night sky and pulled out a cigarette.

The flick of his lighter, the spark, the flame… He lit his cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Tension drained from his body, replaced by a sense of…completion. The cool night air mingled with the warm smoke in his lungs. A heady, almost addictive sensation. This was why he couldn’t quit.

A figure emerged from the darkness. Lee Hyelin, approaching hesitantly.

Saeron sighed, dropped his cigarette, and crushed it under his heel.

“S… Saeron-oppa, what are you… doing?”
“Smoking.”
(TL Note: Oppa is a term of respect for older brother, used by females)

Hyelin frowned at him.

“I… I don’t see a… cigarette…”
“I just put it out.”
“It’s… okay… you can… smoke…”
“I don’t smoke in front of kids.”

She sat beside him on the platform, mimicking his gaze, looking up at the sky.

“I… I can’t see anything…”
“Give your eyes some time to adjust. What did you want to talk about?”
“Was… was it… obvious?”
“You’ve been sighing all day. I’d be worried if I hadn’t noticed.”

Hyelin chuckled awkwardly.

“So… there’s this… friend of a friend…”

It’s about her, isn’t it? Saeron thought.

“Sh… She’s always smiling… but the other day… I saw her… crying… She wouldn’t… tell me why… And then… the next day, she… she was back to… smiling… like nothing happened…”
“And?”
“I… I’m worried… I don’t know why she was… so sad… It’s… frustrating… because we’re… friends… and she… won’t tell me… anything…”
“I thought you said it was a friend of a friend.”
“Oh… r… right…”

Saeron chuckled. Why were these kids so obsessed with their problems when they should be enjoying their youth? This was the second time today he’d been asked for advice.

He was grateful he was a writer. A writer’s words were carefully chosen, their edges smoothed, less likely to inflict unintentional wounds.

He stroked his chin.

“You know… I hate summer.”
“Huh?”

Hyelin tilted her head, confused by the abrupt change in topic. Saeron grinned.

“It’s too… bright. Too intense. It doesn’t care about our feelings, just relentlessly shining down on us. That’s why I hate it.”
“I… I guess…”
“And it’s…whiny. The rainy season… it’s so humid and gloomy. It drives me crazy.”

The rainy season was summer’s sadness. Having endured the complaints and the heat, it finally broke down, releasing its pent-up sorrow in a torrent of tears.

“After the rain, the sun comes out again. And then, the rain returns. Should we worry about the rain, or look forward to the sunshine after the rain?”

Hyelin thought for a moment.

“It’s… better to… look forward to… the sunshine, isn’t it?”
“Why?”
“Worrying… won’t change… anything…”

Saeron smiled and patted her head.

“That’s right. Stay positive. Your friend… she had a good cry, so she’ll be okay. She’ll probably smile even brighter now. Sometimes, showing vulnerability makes people stronger.”
“…It’s a… friend of a…friend…”
“Right. A friend of a friend.”

Hyelin smiled.

“You’re… surprisingly… wise, Saeron-oppa.”
“What?”
“I… mean… you seem… trustworthy.”
“And what did you think before?”

Hyelin avoided his gaze, looking up at the sky.

“Since… you’re so… trustworthy… can I ask you… another question?”
“What is it?”
“This time… it’s about… me.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”

Saeron realized he was still patting her head and stopped. Hyelin looked slightly disappointed.

“Ah… you can… keep doing that… it’s… calming…”
“My arm’s getting tired.”

Saeron chuckled, and Hyelin giggled. She took a deep breath and spoke,

“I’m just… I don’t know… always anxious… about the future… What if… I’m not good enough…?”
“The future?”
“Haram and Dojun… they’re amazing actors… Yeseul and Chaerin… are good at studying… I’m… just… average… What if I… never find something I’m… good at?”

Saeron scratched his chin.

“Don’t compare yourself to others. It’s a bad habit.”
“I… I know… but it’s… hard…”
“You played the aspiring celebrity in the play, didn’t you? I just remembered.”
“Y… You saw it?”

Hyelin blushed. Saeron smiled.

“I went to see Lee Haram’s performance. And you’re not average. You’re talented.”
“I… I am?”
“Yes. Haerin-noona might be clueless about most things, but she has a good eye for talent.”

In Saeron’s opinion, Kang Haerin wasn’t a particularly good adult.

He had been surprised when she told him she was working as a high school drama club instructor. She seemed too…naive, too idealistic.

But her passion for theater, combined with her years of experience, had transformed her into a…decent, if somewhat flawed, adult.

“She might not be the best teacher, but she knows talent when she sees it. You got the role over the seniors, didn’t you? That means she saw something in you.”

Saeron lay down on the platform.

“Lie down.”
“Huh?”

Hyelin, looking puzzled, lay down beside him. A few moments later, she gasped.

“Wow…”

Her eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, could finally see the vast expanse of the night sky, not the dull black canvas visible from the city, but a breathtaking tapestry of stars.

Hyelin’s eyes sparkled with wonder. Saeron smiled.

“We always focus on the bright stars, forgetting that the small ones shine too. And they’re just as beautiful.”
“Th… They are…”

Hyelin, gazing at the sky, said softly,

“Saeron-oppa, you’re… a good writer… Your words are… beautiful… unlike your… appearance.”
“You’re starting to sound like Lee Haram. Stop adding those weird qualifiers at the end of your sentences.”
“Heehee…”

Hyelin yawned and sat up.

“Are you going to bed?”
“Yes. I’m sleeping next to Haram again tonight.”

She thanked him and walked back to the pension, her steps lighter now.

Saeron, remembering the cigarette he hadn’t finished earlier, reached into his pocket. He groaned.

“Damn it, I’m out.”

Driving to the convenience store seemed like too much effort. Laziness had triumphed over his nicotine addiction.

He lay back down on the platform, looking up at the sky, a smile playing on his lips as he replayed the day’s events.

He still felt like a child, yet these kids kept seeking his advice, relying on him. The accumulated experiences, the lessons learned, shaped his words, making him sound…older. Or perhaps, he was already an adult, capable of offering adult advice.

He had always wanted to remain a child. The realization that he had become an adult, without even noticing, was a little bittersweet.