Chapter 23: The Saintly Boyfriend and the Model Student

“Hey, you’ve become a superstar!”

The moment I stepped out of the lecture hall, Han Gyu-tae came running from afar. As usual, he was clutching his phone, which displayed the rapid evolution of a rumor: the fact that “BlueberryWhiskey partied with Sephiroth” had mutated across various community sites into the nonsense that “BlueberryWhiskey is Sephiroth’s lover.”

And what was with that last post? If Sephiroth is your ideal type, you take him. Stop being curious about my personality for no reason…

“Superstar, my foot.”

“I’m telling you, you’re the first person to party with Sephiroth in a year! It’s a huge deal.”

“Since when were you a fan of Sephiroth?”

“Didn’t you know, Eonha? Han Gyu-tae is a secret member of the ‘Sephi-Love’ Association.”

The Sephiroth Loving Association? Why does that even exist?

Park Seong-jin, who had approached us unnoticed, crossed his arms and shook his head. He was a friend who looked remarkably at home in his round glasses and checkered shirt.

“So, how did you end up partying with Sephiroth anyway?”

“He kept following me around. Demanding we PVP just once.”

“With you? Aren’t you Level 1 right now?”

“I hit Level 17 clearing quests yesterday.”

“The early game exp is pretty generous. Level 17, huh? I guess you killed both the Orcs and the Slugs?”

Seong-jin offered a logical interpretation. Given how much the experience reward fluctuates based on the clear method, it wasn’t a strange guess. After a moment of hesitation, I shook my head.

“No.”

“Did you just grind a bunch of mobs?”

“Not really… Um. I did it the way Gyu-tae sent me.”

“Me? What did I send you?”

Gyu-tae scrolled through his messenger history and let out a sound that was half-scream, half-groan.

“Huh? You actually cleared it with that? That actually works?”

“What is it? Show me!”

After peering at Gyu-tae’s screen, Park Seong-jin let out his own scream.

“Whoa, you cleared this with Sephiroth?”

“Keep it down, will you?”

Since Zelpia was such a massive hit, several students passing through the hallway turned to look at us. Seeing their eyes widen at the mention of “Sephiroth,” they were 100% Zelpia players. Not wanting to receive a barrage of “handshake requests” even inside the school, I hurriedly muffled my friends’ mouths.

Seong-jin was the first to regain his composure.

“So you were at the Walpurgis Ruins yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

“How was it? I mean, you didn’t die in there?”

“Nope. Sephiroth’s leading was actually really good. He kept the explanations for the patterns concise and focused on the core mechanics.”

“No way…”

“I can believe the leading part, but isn’t the pattern management difficult? The attack range is huge.”

I looked back and forth between Han Gyu-tae, whose mouth was hanging open, and Park Seong-jin, who was trying his best to find common ground. I decided to be honest.

“It seemed dodgeable once I just… did it?”

“……Let’s just go eat.”

Gyu-tae ended the conversation first. Realizing we probably wouldn’t understand each other anyway, I nodded in agreement.

It was an unspoken rule that Seong-jin, Gyu-tae, and I ate lunch together. No one ever explicitly asked, but since all three of us had a gap in our schedules at the same time, it happened naturally. Even if we didn’t have overlapping classes, we would wait in front of the lecture hall of whoever finished latest. Usually, that was me, so my classroom became the designated meeting spot.

“What are we eating today?”

“Pork cutlet rice bowls at the Business School cafeteria. You in?”

“Business School food sucks.”

“It’s not like we can trek all the way to the Agriculture Building.”

“Should we head to Ag-Tech for a change?”

“Hey, I have a class right after this, remember?”

The most enjoyable part of the day—picking the cafeteria menu—had arrived. While Gyu-tae and Seong-jin debated which cafeteria to hit, I stepped back slightly and craned my neck.

Ah, there he is.

The door to the student lounge opened, revealing a tall, slender figure. Even from a distance, I could see the sharp bridge of his nose beneath his half-parted hair. With his small face and broad shoulders, he looked like he belonged to a different race compared to the students surrounding him.

Na Eun-hyeok always came out of the lounge at this time. Just as I finished my classes and chose a lunch menu here, it seemed Eun-hyeok and his friends headed out for lunch at this hour too. A few smiling classmates, whose faces were familiar but whom I wasn’t close with, surrounded him.

Eun-hyeok and I were in the same year, but we couldn’t be called close. To put it simply, Eun-hyeok’s crowd was the type to go to the pool hall, while my crowd was the type to go to the PC bang. We exchanged greetings in passing, but our two groups—having vastly different tendencies and tastes—stayed separate like oil and water, coexisting with mutual respect.

Whether Eun-hyeok actually went to pool halls with his group was unknown. Rumor had it that he returned home faster than anyone once classes were over. Normally, people might gossip about someone like that, but no one dared to say a word against Na Eun-hyeok.

Because Na Eun-hyeok was Na Eun-hyeok.

As a child, he appeared in a drama that became a legendary hit. That year, he swept the Best Youth Actor awards at every ceremony. The strikingly handsome child quickly landed commercials; for a while, it wouldn’t have been strange to call children’s magazine covers “The Na Eun-hyeok Photo Book.”

Then, upon entering middle school, he suddenly retired. Just when people thought he would live quietly as a commoner, he made headlines again as the top-scoring admittee to Hankuk University.

There wasn’t a soul in this school, myself included, who didn’t want to be friends with him. He was handsome, gentle, and brilliant. I still vividly remember how sales skyrocketed during the first-year festival just because Eun-hyeok stood at the one-day bar for a short while. When I told people I was in the Economics department, I was so used to being asked if I’d seen Na Eun-hyeok that I had a scripted answer ready.

So, me falling for him was only natural.

“Then we’re going to the Ag-Tech cafeteria. That okay, Eonha?”

“Yeah. I don’t care. What’s the menu?”

“Salmon steak and pasta.”

“We better hurry. There’s probably a line.”

Before leaving, I turned my head one last time to steal a glance at Eun-hyeok’s profile. In that instant, my body froze as if I’d been struck by lightning.

Na Eun-hyeok was looking this way. No—not just looking, he was walking toward us. Why?

“Oh, it’s Na Eun-hyeok.”

Gyu-tae and Seong-jin noticed his approach a beat late. I turned around in a panic, but saw only the empty, bustling hallway.

Does he have business with our group? Why?

My body went rigid. Every time I told myself not to be nervous, the tension seemed to double. The sunlight streaming through the large windows caught Eun-hyeok as he passed, casting a long shadow. That shadow gradually drew closer to me.

And finally, the shadow stopped right in front of my eyes.

The light caught his long eyelashes like sparkling jewels. His eyebrows and lashes were deep black, and his skin was transparently clear. His face, both beautiful and masculine, looked as serene as a pond reflecting a quiet autumn sky.

His clear, obsidian eyes met mine. Like a reflection in a pond, my image filled his pupils. I felt as though his transparent gaze was stripping me bare. I could feel my face turning crimson.

“Eonha. Can we talk for a second?”

A soft, kind voice resonated in my ears.

Countless phrases swirled through my head. Should I say a casual “What’s up?”, or smile warmly and say “Long time no see,” or just a simple “Eun-hyeok-ah.” No, does that sound too familiar? Then ‘Na Eun-hyeok’? Or ‘Have you been well?’

After agonizing over the options, the words I finally managed to squeeze out were:

“Why?”

I’m doomed.

I had a problem. I got far too nervous in front of people I liked. It wasn’t just ordinary nervousness; I became so stiff that people might think I was facing my sworn enemy.

My facial muscles locked up, causing the corners of my mouth to droop. My expression became wooden. My mouth felt bone-dry, and my throat burned. Even my tone was harsh. Unable to find the courage to look at his face, I dropped my gaze to the floor. I couldn’t even meet his eyes.

A preschooler standing in front of their crush would have fared better than this.

I desperately tried to spin my “happiness circuit.” Why? It wasn’t the best answer, but it wasn’t the absolute worst. If I could just say it with a bright, kind smile, Eun-hyeok would realize I wasn’t asking out of malice.

So please, smile, Chae Eonha.

But my expression remained frozen. I couldn’t even bring myself to look up at him. Countless words pounded against the back of my tongue, but my tightly sealed lips refused to open like the locked gates of a fortress.

Despite my unintentionally cold response, Eun-hyeok still cast his shadow over me. I tried to visualize the elegant curve of his eyes and his lips pulled into a pretty arc in my mind, then squeezed my eyes shut. His gentle voice flowed over me as if my reaction didn’t bother him at all.

“You’re taking the ‘Introduction to Financial Policy’ class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I was wondering if you’d picked your group members for the project yet.”

“I haven’t.”

Please. Please, Chae Eonha. You’re capable of speaking like a normal human being…….