Chapter 58: The Scent of a Spring Day

“Everyone confirm their group assignments? If you haven’t checked yet, log into ETL and take a look. The assignment I gave today is due by next Thursday—put it in the submission box next to Room 110.”

As the professor’s voice signaled the end of class, the classroom erupted into the sound of rubber-tipped chair legs scraping against the floor. It was a cacophony of desks rattling, chairs being tucked in, male students shouting about getting lunch, and female students lining up to ask the professor questions.

I stared blankly at the paper in my hand. It was a list of arbitrary financial assets that needed valuation. Since it was early in the semester, the task wasn’t overly difficult. According to the seniors, the real hell begins once we start learning Analysis of Variance (ANOVA).

But my personal hell was starting right now.

As I fumbled to shove today’s materials into my bag, my skin prickled. It felt like an omen of what was to come. Hundreds of people passed by me, some in a hurry and others lingering, but I felt like I could pick out a single specific footstep amidst the crowd. That is to say…

“Eon-ha-ya.”

Na Eun-hyeok’s footsteps.

Eun-hyeok stood before me. Still seated, I looked up at him like an idiot. Wearing a plain white t-shirt under a denim jacket, he looked exactly like a “college senior” character from a spring-themed K-drama. In reality, we were in the same year, but I finally understood why drama protagonists fall in love in the spring.

His low, gentle voice calling my name seemed to carry the scent of flowers. I knew the perfume he used was likely a blend of wood and musk, but for some reason, whenever I heard his voice, I thought of blossoms. They say loving someone is like blooming a flower in your heart; perhaps the scent was coming from there.

While lost in these poetic thoughts, my mouth decided to malfunction.

“Yeah.”

“Did you follow the lecture okay? Do you have a minute to talk?”

“No. Ah, I mean, yeah.”

No? What do you mean, no? You have to talk to him if you’re going to do a group project.

Eun-hyeok stood over me, casting a long shadow, and gave a small smile. He didn’t seem to be mocking me for my clumsy correction. He was simply maintaining his usual warm politeness toward everyone. I knew this, but having him right in front of my eyes made my heart thud against my ribs. I tore my gaze away from him and glared at the chalkboard in the distance, hurriedly packing my things without looking at him.

“You can take your time.”

“No, I’m fast—ack!”

And then, I messed up.

Clatter. My cloth pencil case hit the floor, and the pens inside came flying out. Luckily, they didn’t roll too far. I hurriedly pushed my chair back with my thighs and crawled under the desk, crouching down. My frantic hands grabbed everything in sight—pens, dust, whatever—and shoved them back into the case.

God, how pathetic do I look right now? The sorrow of constantly making mistakes in front of the person I liked made the tip of my nose sting.

The last item, an eraser, had bounced a bit further away. Unlike the pens huddled under the desk, the eraser was about half a span further out. Just as I reached out my hand to grab it…

A lukewarm warmth touched the back of my hand.

“Ah…!”

Startled, I tried to bolt upright and slammed my head straight into the bottom of the desk. Ow… Tears welled up in my eyes. I was sure a bump was forming. As I rubbed the crown of my head and carefully tried to crawl out, I saw Eun-hyeok’s palm flattened against the sharp corner of the desk, shielding me. He had moved to prevent me from hitting my head again. I felt a rush of gratitude mixed with overwhelming embarrassment.

“Here.”

As I sat there awkwardly rubbing my head and looking only at the desk, Eun-hyeok handed me my pencil case. The eraser I had been reaching for was nestled safely inside.

“Th-thank you.”

I bowed my head and took the case from his hand. A small, airy chuckle drifted down from above me. That sound immediately pulled me back to a specific moment in time.

The age of twenty. The day Na Eun-hyeok first left an imprint on my life.

They say life is a series of coincidences, but sometimes it feels more like a series of misfortunes. Everyone has those days where it feels like every possible unlucky event in the world is targeting them specifically. Even if your head tells you it’s just passing bad luck, your heart isn’t always so resilient, and on those days, you eventually find yourself bursting into tears.

That day had been particularly brutal. I missed my alarm and was late for my first class. In my second class, I realized I’d forgotten to bring an assignment that was due. While eating lunch, I got a call from home saying my father had lost a chunk of money after co-signing a loan for someone. Thankfully it wasn’t a life-ruining amount, but we ended up in a shouting match over the phone. To top it off, I had back-to-back classes for the next four periods, meaning I had to sprint between buildings without a moment to process my emotions. My backpack felt twice as heavy because a friend had finally returned a thick major textbook they’d borrowed.

The bag felt like a “fatigue bear” weighing down my shoulders, and my body felt as heavy as if it were soaked in water. I tried to catch the school shuttle after the last lecture, but it sped past right in front of my eyes. The interval was fifteen minutes, and waiting felt like too much of a burden.

Forget the shuttle; I just wanted to go home. I made a decision: I’d walk down to the main gate and catch a city bus instead. Plenty of buses passed through there. It would be packed at this hour, but I’d rather be squashed by people and get home to lie down sooner.

Since it was late, the campus was nearly empty. The few people I saw were heading the opposite way to catch the shuttle. I stepped weakly onto the unpaved road. The sensation of a pebble poking through the sole of my sneaker felt irritating. I trudged toward the Law Building and turned. The downhill path toward the main gate was devoid of people, lined only by rows of parked cars. I gritted my teeth as my knees threatened to give way with every downhill step.

Why did he have to co-sign that loan? They say being “too nice” is a useless trait, and my father was the prime example. Both my parents worked, and my mother would always complain about him: “I work myself to the bone to earn money, and that man blows it all just to look generous.” Luckily, he’d never lost enough to make us go hungry, but my mother still hated it, saying that “dust piles up to make a mountain.”

I should probably wire them the money I’ve saved up. Need to put out the fire first.

But as the saying goes, on unlucky days, the luck stays bad until the very end. On days like this, you have to stay sharp, but that’s exactly when your guard drops. I only thought about my parents for a split second, but in that gap, I tripped over my own shoelace.

“Whoa—!”

Normally, I would have caught my balance, but today my body wouldn’t listen. Weighted down by the heavy bag, I fell straight onto the asphalt. I threw my hands out instinctively. My face was safe, but my palms and knees scraped harshly against the ground.

“Ugh… it hurts…”

Embarrassed that someone might have seen, I tried to scramble up. Fortunately—or unfortunately—no one was around. I sat there in the middle of the road where neither cars nor people often passed, feeling dazed. My palms were raw and bleeding. My knees were worse. The jeans I’d bought just a week ago had a gaping hole in the knee. Through the tear, I could see my mangled, bloody skin.

It stung. I felt like crying. I knew I had to get back and treat it, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand up. My hands hurt, my knees hurt, my bag was heavy enough to throw away, and most of all, the air surrounding me today felt too heavy to breathe.

I wanted to give up on everything. I felt a surge of resentment that teleportation didn’t exist. I stared intensely at my wounds to keep the tears back, my eyes growing hot.

“Chae Eon-ha?”

A voice came from behind me.

I turned my head. The backlight made it hard to see his face. My first impression was just that he was tall and had a good build. I squinted and shielded my eyes with my hand, and finally, his face came out of the shadows. A man in a white shirt and beige khakis, with a black leather bag slung over his shoulder.

It was Na Eun-hyeok.

Everyone knew who he was. His enrollment had been covered in the entertainment section of the newspapers. Even without the news, anyone who saw his face once wouldn’t be able to forget it. Seeing him up close, he really was handsome. If God had ever sculpted a perfect being, it was Na Eun-hyeok.

Regardless, he and I weren’t close. We’d brushed past each other in the student lounge a few times, but we’d never spoken. We ran in different circles and took different classes. To me, he was just “that famous, handsome guy in our major.”

That was, until he asked me:

“Eon-ha-ya, are you okay?”