Chapter 46 : White/Hundred (7)

Haram giggled at Hankyul’s hesitant grip, his hand loosely curled around hers.

“Are you… embarrassed?”
“This is… more awkward than I thought.”

Just holding hands. It seemed even this level of physical contact was too much for the perpetually single Baek Hankyul. I brought his hand to my nose and wrinkled it.

“Ew, sweaty.”
“I’m not sweating.”
“I know. Just kidding.”

I smiled, flexing my fingers.

“If you start doubting yourself again, just let me know. I’ll recharge you.”
“…Thanks.”

I suddenly noticed something and frowned.

“Don’t move.”

I leaned closer and brushed something off his forehead.

“You had something on your face.”

He sighed and shook his head.

“Haram, you said your last relationship was ten years ago, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Just curious.”
“About what?”
“Nothing.”

He looked at me as if I were some exotic creature.

“We should probably get going. We’re done eating, aren’t we?”
“We are. What do you want to do now?”
“Karaoke? Oh, and just so you know, I can’t take you home.”
“…”

Hankyul looked indignant, and I chuckled. He was so easy to tease.

“Are you coming?”

I stood up, and he narrowed his eyes, whispering,

“Is that… someone you know? They keep looking at us.”
“What are you…”

I turned around and saw a very familiar face approaching our table.

“H… H… Haram? Is that… you?”

Lee Hayul. My older sister. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. And suddenly, I was the one feeling confused.

Why was she here? And why was she so flustered? I suddenly remembered all the idol merchandise in her room. And how our…date… must have looked to an outsider. I sighed. I knew exactly what she was thinking.

“…Of course it’s me…”

But my words didn’t seem to reassure her.

It was pointless, really. Her questions were accusations in disguise.

Was it considered NTR if you “stole” your sister’s favorite idol? I hadn’t stolen anything.

Hayul, shopping with a friend, chuckled at the message she had received from her younger sister. Haram had apparently gone on a date with a guy and had no idea what to do.

‘Right. I’m sure.’

Haram, who usually spent her time on her hobbies or cooped up in her room, was suddenly going on dates? And asking her for advice? Haram, who rarely initiated conversations?

Guilty. The evidence was circumstantial, but her sisterly intuition was screaming. She texted back.

[If you’re not sure what to do, start with a movie. There are some good horror films out now.]
[Have you decided on lunch?]
-Gukbap.

Hayul frowned at Haram’s reply. Her sister could be… a bit much sometimes.

[I’ll send you the address of a nice Italian place nearby.]
-I want Gukbap.
[Let’s go with the Italian place. Trust me.]
-Fine.

Hayul browsed through the clothes racks and found something she liked, a dress that required a certain…figure… to pull off. She’d try it on Haram later. She took it to the cashier, and her friend raised an eyebrow.

“What’s that?”
“It’s for my sister.”
“Why are you buying clothes for your sister?”
“To… dress her up?”

Her friend looked at her as if she was crazy.

“You two are weird.”
“Why?”
“You’re… oddly devoted to your sister. How old is she again?”
“She’s a first-year in high school.”
“At that age, siblings usually ignore each other, or fight constantly.”
“My sister is… sweet. We get along.”

Ever since Haram’s personality change after starting high school, she had become surprisingly obedient, always willing to help out, never arguing. Hayul couldn’t help but adore her.

And there was a slightly selfish motive too. Hayul grinned.

“Have you heard of family… stanning? I live vicariously through her, buying her clothes I can’t wear myself.”
(TL Note: “Stanning” means being an enthusiastic fan of a celebrity or fictional character, so “family stanning” would be being overly enthusiastic of a family member)

Her sister was basically her dress-up doll. Haram, with her pretty face and slender figure, looked good in anything. Hayul often bought clothes that didn’t fit her and made Haram try them on. Haram would complain but always comply.

She showed her friend photos of Haram in various outfits. Her friend, despite her initial skepticism, nodded.

“She’s got the figure for it. But isn’t it a bit much, buying her clothes?”
“It’s Mom’s card. She told me to buy clothes for Haram since she’s not interested in fashion.”

A mischievous thought crossed Hayul’s mind.

‘That restaurant is near here. I should… check out this guy she’s with.’

As they were having coffee, Hayul’s phone buzzed. A message from Haram, asking for the address of the Italian place. They must have finished their movie.

Hayul excused herself and headed towards the restaurant. The movie theater was closer to the restaurant, so Haram and her date would probably arrive after her.

She was right. When she got there, she saw Haram chatting with a guy, their laughter echoing through the restaurant. Hayul sat at a table a few rows away, trying to get a good look at him.

‘He’s handsome.’

Birds of a feather, she supposed. She watched them, a strange sense of inadequacy settling over her.

They ate their food, laughing and chatting. Hayul was starting to get bored when Haram suddenly reached out and said something. The man extended his hand, and their fingers intertwined. Haram smiled and started talking.

Hayul couldn’t hear what they were saying, but their actions were more than enough to unsettle her.

‘What… what is she doing?’

Haram then brushed something off the man’s forehead, a blatant act of skinship disguised as a thoughtful gesture. He seemed flustered.

‘That little…’

Then, she recognized him. She frowned, staring at the man. She noticed a ring on his finger.

Being a fan wasn’t just about liking someone’s music or performances. It required research, a deep dive into their interviews and social media posts, a thorough understanding of who they were as a person.

Hayul remembered reading an interview where he mentioned wearing a friendship ring he had made with his middle school friends.

“Hankyul-oppa…?”

She had been trying to deny it, but her body moved before her mind could catch up.

“H… H… Haram? Is that… you?”

She found herself standing before her sister, her question an accusation in disguise.

I quickly explained the situation to Hayul. I was working on a film with him, and the director had made us go on a date to improve our on-screen chemistry. But she just frowned and shook her head.

“Liar.”
“What’s the lie?”
“I saw you… flirting with him.”
“I wasn’t flirting. I swear, if we have to do that dating nonsense then at least we get a free meal out of it.”
“You… you stole my oppa, and now you’re lying about it?”
“You can have him, I don’t care.”

I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. How could people become so irrational? I sighed.

“I wasn’t trying to ‘steal’ anyone. It was just… harmless flirting.”
“You’re… trying to trick me?”
“No, seriously, you can have him. I’m not interested.”

Hankyul, who had inadvertently been demoted to an object, chuckled awkwardly.

“She’s telling the truth. I wasn’t… conveying the right emotions during filming, so the director suggested we go on a date.”
“Then I have one question.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“Why were you holding hands? You looked… very close.”
“That… you’ll have to ask your sister. I was just…going with the flow.”

Hankyul and I both looked at Hayul, who was staring at me with suspicion. I tilted my head.

“People hold hands. It’s… a normal thing to do, you know.”

It is, isn’t it? All my female friends in my past life had done it.

At my words, someone groaned. Both Hankyul and Hayul seemed to have sensed my genuine confusion. A long, awkward silence followed.