Chapter 4: An Unavoidable Gaze.

The moment the man casually named a sum of money Yooha could never have imagined, Yooha’s gaze drifted back to him.

If it had been curiosity at first, now it was closer to an unconscious reaction born of pure shock.

Unable even to close his slack jaw, Yooha stared at the man blankly, eyes widened.

“Per night… th-three thousand…?”

“I stayed about ten days, and for the price, it wasn’t bad.”

“In the off-season it’d probably be cheaper, but there’s no reason to plan a trip around the off season just to save a few bucks.”

“Don’t you think so, Gihwan?”

The man lifted the end of his sentence as he softly called the other’s name, but his gaze had already shifted to Yooha.

With slightly curved eyes and gently upturned lips, he wore an easy, pleasant smile, yet his dark eyes lingered on Yooha’s face with unmistakable intent.

The moment Yooha realized he wasn’t even trying to avert his gaze anymore, he understood.

‘So it wasn’t my imagination when our eyes met earlier.’

‘He noticed me glancing at him.’

‘And that’s why… he’s staring straight at me like this.’

“Ah…”

Yooha, who had been unable to look away as if bewitched by a face anyone would unanimously call handsome, hurriedly gathered himself and averted his gaze.

The man had tilted his head slightly, smiling as if to ask whether Yooha had something to say.

Twice—no, not once but twice—and on a first meeting, no less.

Realizing how rude he had been, Yooha’s reason snapped back into place, and his heart began pounding as if he’d committed a crime.

Unsure how to recover the atmosphere that had gone cold as if doused with icy water, his lips dried out with tension.

Just then, a scraping sound echoed as a chair leg dragged against the floor.

The man stood up.

“Gihwan, do you have a lighter?”

“Huh? Ah… yeah.”

“I think I left mine in the car.”

“Let me borrow yours.”

“Here…”

“Thanks.”

After borrowing the lighter from the man he had been chatting with moments earlier, he turned and left the lecture hall without another word.

Only after hearing the door close did Yooha finally release the breath he’d been holding.

Even so, his heart continued to pound as if it might burst out of his chest, refusing to calm down.

The discomfort crept in so strongly that Yooha almost wished the man had just bluntly asked why he was staring.

They would have to keep seeing each other all semester unless one of them dropped the class.

As unease spread through his body like something gnawing at him from the inside, Yooha began tearing at the loose skin around his nails.

Feeling pathetic for making such a foolish mistake, he let out one sigh after another.

He kept glancing nervously toward the back door the man had exited through, biting down hard on his lower lip.

The unfamiliar anxiety churned through his mind, leaving it in complete disarray.

Gihwan also glanced toward the door for a moment, muttered something unintelligible to himself, and then looked away.

Lost in watching the door, Yooha flinched when the front door suddenly opened.

The professor finally entered, more than ten minutes late, wearing an air of unhurried ease.

“Let’s start by taking attendance.”

The professor slowly called out names, as if trying to memorize faces along with them.

When his own name was called, Yooha lightly raised his hand in response.

But the man never returned to the lecture hall, even by the time attendance ended and the orientation wrapped up.

****

Since the semester had only just begun, there were still more people borrowing books than returning them.

Thanks to that, Yooha—whose main duty was shelving—had a relatively calm shift.

Normally, he would have tried to squeeze every ounce of efficiency out of moments like these.

Today, however, his focus simply wouldn’t cooperate.

Instead, he kept finding excuses to check the automated return machine, trying to settle his restless thoughts.

Around five o’clock, after checking the machine once more, Yooha returned to the first-floor reading room and reopened the workbook he’d been using to prepare for tutoring.

But he couldn’t get far before closing it again.

Ever since that morning, nothing had been sticking in his head.

As Yooha had suspected, that man really was Shin Joowon.

When the professor called his name during attendance, Min Gihwan—who’d been talking with him—explained the situation on his behalf.

Even so, Joowon never came back, not even by the time Yooha left the lecture hall.

His coat and bag were still sitting in his seat when Yooha glanced back one last time.

Was he planning to drop the class?

It was still the add–drop period, so it wouldn’t be a problem if he did.

But…

‘What if he’s dropping it because I made him uncomfortable?’

The thought slipped into his mind, and a long sigh escaped him.

He had no room for distractions, yet Joowon’s gaze—staring straight at him, head tilted slightly—kept replaying in his mind, making it impossible to focus.

His lips, which he’d been chewing on all day, were now scraped raw.

[Choi Jeongbin (11th grade): Teacher, is it okay if I only do the assignment up to here??]

[Choi Jeongbin (11th grade): (photo)]

[Choi Jeongbin (11th grade): But teacher, is something wrong?? Why did you move this week’s session?]

What snapped Yooha out of his spiraling thoughts was the string of messages from Jeongbin, the student he tutored on Saturdays.

Yooha carefully picked up his phone and calmly read through them.

Only after enlarging the photo to check it closely did he reply.

[Yes, that’s enough up to there.]

[Something came up this week, so I thought I might be late.]

[Your mother said it was fine, but is it okay with you?]

[Choi Jeongbin (11th grade): Oh no, I was just curious lol]

[Choi Jeongbin (11th grade): See you on Saturday, teacher~~]

If Jeongbin really had just been curious, he seemed satisfied enough with Yooha’s explanation.

Relieved, Yooha sent a brief “Okay” and placed his phone face-down on top of the open workbook.

The thoughts of Shin Joowon, which had briefly been pushed aside, flooded back into his mind.

‘Why did I have to take an interest for no reason…?’

He should have just let it go when he first heard the name, in one ear and out the other.

Maybe it stuck with him because he’d once hoped to work at a Taemun affiliate.

Or maybe it was simply because Joowon lived in a world so completely different from his own, making him fascinating despite himself.

“……”

What would it feel like to live that kind of life?

A life where a smooth, paved road stretches out before you from birth.

Where you don’t have to claw your way forward studying with everything you have.

Where you aren’t crushed by the pressure of having to earn money just to survive.

A life where you can travel the world for a year and casually pay thirty million won per night for a hotel.

Someone like that must live each day feeling nothing but enjoyment and happiness.

Staring into empty space, Yooha shook his head lightly, clearing his thoughts.

No matter how curious he felt, it was a fantasy he’d never experience in his lifetime.

Lingering on it would do him no good. Not wanting what you can never have. Not hoping for miracles like winning the lottery. Living each given day sincerely, doing the best you can.

That was what had kept Yooha going all this time.

‘Right.’

‘I should finish this quickly and prepare for Sunday’s tutoring tonight.’

‘I’ll push thoughts of Shin Joowon aside for now and focus on what I need to do today.’

‘That’s what matters most.’

Slowly exhaling, Yooha placed both hands against his cheeks.

Believing that a sharp sting was the best way to come to his senses, he squeezed his eyes shut and lightly slapped his cheeks, scolding himself back to focus.

****

Adjusting to new lectures and the return of relentlessly busy days was exhausting enough to drain every ounce of energy from Yooha.

Yet there was something else that made it even harder.

‘Do you have something to say to me?’

‘Why are you staring like that?’

Night after night, those not-quite-nightmares ambushed him without warning.

Although he hadn’t seen Shin Joowon anywhere on campus since that first encounter, Yooha had been meeting him in his dreams for days now.

The setting was always a lecture hall.

Joowon always sat beside him, repeating the same words.

There were dozens of times Yooha had shaken his head, trying to dispel Joowon’s afterimage that intruded even while he studied.

Last night, perhaps because he’d felt relieved that five days at school had passed without running into him, the Joowon in his dream clung to him more persistently than ever, leaving him shaken.

“Haah…”

Sitting there blankly without even bothering to fix his rumpled hair, Yooha scrubbed his face with dry hands.

He hadn’t slept properly in days, and the fatigue was overwhelming.

But with no room to rest even a single day, Yooha forced himself up.

Today was his appointment at the Center.

After bowing briefly to his aunt and uncle, who were eating breakfast, he went into the bathroom and washed his face first.

Splashing cold water over himself again and again only made his already pale face look even more drained of color.

Staring at the hollow eyes reflected in the mirror, Yooha thought quietly.

‘Maybe… it really would be better to apologize to Shin Joowon.’