Chapter 8: The Unexpected Interruption

No matter how enjoyable tennis was, its novelty quickly wore off. Yoonwoo’s daily life was a relentless cycle of attending lectures, studying, working part-time, and looking after his twin younger siblings, who were in the tumultuous throes of high school. He simply couldn’t play tennis often, as even an hour on the court demanded a twenty-minute shower followed by a two-hour rest.

Yet, today, Yeon-chae appeared again, trailing him with a face like a drenched puppy. Yoonwoo found himself in an utterly awkward predicament.

“Senior, let’s play tennis tomorrow. You have a break after your first class, don’t you?”

“Huh? You know my schedule?”

Yeon-chae paused briefly, then his eyes crinkled as he offered a soft smile, skillfully deflecting the point.

“When you have some free time, morning exercise is a great way to use it. I’ll bring hamburgers and coffee, so let’s eat lunch together at the tennis court. We won’t have to go to the cafeteria, saving travel time… Senior, you like caramel macchiatos, right?”

“…”

The puppy was so persistent and resourceful that Yoonwoo found himself utterly speechless, unable to offer any rebuttal. After struggling in vain to conjure an excuse, he could only slump his shoulders and nod in defeat.

In this manner, he was repeatedly caught by Yeon-chae and dragged onto the tennis court. Then, one day, an escape route finally presented itself.

It happened as Yeon-chae, standing across the court as usual, tossed a ball towards him. Perhaps misjudging his strength, the tennis ball struck Yeon-chae’s racket with a resounding *thwack!*, creating an astonishing sound. The ball, having sliced through the air, spun with incredible velocity and hurtled directly towards Yoonwoo’s face.

“Hyung, look out!”

Yeon-chae cried out in a panicked rush.

Yet, the ball was swifter than Yoonwoo’s sluggish reflexes. The terrifyingly spinning tennis ball struck Yoonwoo squarely in the face. His nose tingled painfully, and his vision swam before his eyes. Soon, a sharp ache bloomed across the bridge of his nose, and a warm liquid began to trickle down his chin, dropping steadily onto the ground.

However, even as he crumpled to the ground, Yoonwoo silently applauded himself. ‘This is it, no more tennis!’

A perfect excuse had presented itself. Deciding to definitively put an end to the situation, Yoonwoo collapsed onto the court floor and feigned unconsciousness. Just before his eyes squeezed shut, he caught a final glimpse of Yeon-chae, his face ashen, sprinting towards him.

“Yoonwoo Hyung… Senior, Yoonwoo Senior!”

Yeon-chae, having rushed close, gripped Yoonwoo’s shoulders with both hands. As his upper body was lifted, Yoonwoo’s hair spilled out and swayed in the air. Yoonwoo held his breath, anticipating Yeon-chae would try to rouse him by gently tapping his cheeks or shaking his body.

But then, his body suddenly lifted off the ground.

Yoonwoo, carried on Yeon-chae’s back, found himself lost in thought. His legs dangled in the air, swaying with Yeon-chae’s every movement.

His plan had been to feign waking up if Yeon-chae shook him, then declare he was too exhausted to play tennis any longer, complaining bitterly. He figured Yeon-chae wouldn’t press the issue, especially since he’d gotten a nosebleed. However, Yeon-chae, looking utterly distraught, had swiftly hoisted Yoonwoo onto his back and started running. Yoonwoo had completely missed his chance to pretend to regain consciousness.

With every jostle of his body, drops of blood splattered onto Yeon-chae’s back. The sight of his shirt collar stained red filled him with discomfort. ‘Blood is tough to get out. I should buy him a new, nice one.’ Yoonwoo attempted to assuage his stinging conscience with money, but his efforts proved futile as Yeon-chae’s broad shoulders began to heave as if he were sobbing.

“Yeon-chae, are you crying…?”

Yeon-chae’s back flinched.

His pace slowly slackened. Yeon-chae was now passing near the lakeside. As it was the height of lecture hours, there was not a soul around. The sky that day was overcast, and occasionally, the rustling of wind against the tree branches could be heard.

Yoonwoo craned his neck to peer at Yeon-chae’s face, but beneath the shadow of his cap, only the sharp bridge of his nose was visible. His pale cheeks were thoroughly damp with moisture that could have been either sweat or tears.

Yoonwoo’s guilt intensified, and he stammered out an excuse.

“I wasn’t unconscious. I just pretended. Because I didn’t want to play tennis…”

Perhaps he had been too honest. Yeon-chae offered no reply, neither stopping his steps nor setting Yoonwoo down. He simply continued to walk in silence.

“Yeon-chae… are you angry?”

Moisture permeated the air, neither cold nor warm. From the perpetually overcast sky, a gentle spring rain began to fall, drop by drop. Water droplets clung to Yeon-chae’s sharp jawline.

“Don’t cry. I’m sorry.”

How startled Yeon-chae must have been, believing that Yoonwoo had been knocked unconscious by his own shot. Acting thoughtlessly, he had made the boy cry. With a remorseful expression, Yoonwoo reached out a hand towards Yeon-chae’s cheek. Yeon-chae did not flinch away from the hand that gently wiped the tears and raindrops from his face.

“…Did it hurt a lot?”

Yeon-chae finally asked, his voice hesitant. His voice, thick with emotion, sounded so pitiful that Yoonwoo quickly shook his head.

“No, it didn’t hurt at all.”

“But you had a nosebleed…”

“It’s stopped now. I’m perfectly fine.”

“That’s a relief.”

Sensing Yeon-chae’s mood had lightened slightly, Yoonwoo, with a relieved expression, tightened his arms around Yeon-chae’s neck. As he leaned his cheek against the nape of Yeon-chae’s neck, their skin touched. A faint scent of sweat, mingled with the fragrance of spring blossoms and fresh grass, wafted up.

The rain was steadily growing heavier.

With the April spring rain, cherry blossoms fell like snow. Wet petals collected everywhere their footsteps touched. Once this rain ceased, all the fully bloomed spring flowers would vanish. Yoonwoo felt a pang of regret at this thought.

‘I wish this moment could linger a little longer, more slowly.’

Yet, seasons do not tarry in one place, and soon it was early summer.

It felt as though midterm exams had just concluded yesterday, but final exams were already looming. Around this time, Yoonwoo became so swamped that he no longer had leisure to chat with Yeon-chae as before. Their interactions were limited to fleeting glances during the lectures Yeon-chae audited.

That day, Yoonwoo was diligently dozing off in the reading room of the business school library. Despite his efforts to study, when he reopened his textbook before the exam, it seemed filled with unfamiliar content. Disheartened, he had stayed at the library until 1 AM, yet drowsiness relentlessly overcame him, perhaps because he had worked a café part-time job until late afternoon.

As he was nodding off for a long while, a soft warmth touched his right cheek. His eyes snapped open just as his head was about to hit the desk. Yoonwoo lifted his head, a startled expression on his face.

“Oh, Yeon-chae.”

Having woken from his sleep, Yeon-chae was right before him. Sitting beside him, Yeon-chae’s cheeks, as he peered at Yoonwoo, were radiant and bright. In the gloomy, dreary library during exam period, only Yeon-chae smiled with a refreshing air.

“Senior, are you very tired?”

Yeon-chae leaned closer, whispering his question into Yoonwoo’s ear. His gentle breath tickled Yoonwoo’s neck, following the soft timbre of his voice. Yoonwoo’s cheeks flushed for no apparent reason, and he fanned himself with his hand. Perhaps it was because the air conditioning wasn’t on, but it felt a little warm.

“A little. When did you get here?”

Glancing around cautiously, Yoonwoo also asked in a low voice. “A while ago,” Yeon-chae mouthed silently this time.

Given the late hour, the reading room was largely empty. A few students, seated in the distance, could be seen slumped over, fast asleep. Still, unwilling to disturb the quiet space, Yoonwoo gestured to Yeon-chae and exited the reading room.

“Ugh, I’m so tired!”

The moment he stepped outside the building, a sigh escaped him involuntarily. Yoonwoo stretched his arms wide, then twisted his waist from side to side. Yeon-chae, who had followed him out, stood quietly beside Yoonwoo as he performed his midnight stretches.

“It’s late, aren’t you going home? Do you have a lot to do?”

“Yes, well… And you, Senior? Are you staying long?”

Yeon-chae mumbled, letting his words trail off, then quickly turned to Yoonwoo and asked. Yoonwoo stroked his chin, lost in thought. It was true he had a pile of work, but after waking from his nap, he felt hungry. He considered going home to cook some ramen and finish his tasks, but he feared he would collapse into sleep the moment he entered his room.

“I really should stay longer, but I’m getting peckish. I guess I’ll go to the snack bar and grab some cup ramen.”

He wished for something more substantial than cup ramen, but it couldn’t be helped. As he reluctantly came to this conclusion, Yeon-chae, in turn, shook his head.

“The snack bar is closed. It only stays open until evening, you know.”

“Ah… then I’d have to go all the way to the College of Social Sciences.”

Inside the College of Social Sciences, there was a 24-hour convenience store. However, the thought of traveling all that way at this hour drained his energy. ‘Should I just go home, cook ramen, and sleep? Won’t tomorrow’s me handle tomorrow’s problems?’ Just as his thoughts, like a musical repeat sign, circled back to a slightly more perilous conclusion, Yeon-chae spoke up.

“Should we order Chinese food? I know a place that delivers 24 hours.”

“Oh, really?”

Yeon-chae presented a plausible alternative. Yoonwoo’s interest was immediately piqued.

Yeon-chae spread a mat on the lawn in front of Building 58. When Yoonwoo asked where the mat had come from, he evasively averted his gaze. His curiosity piqued, Yoonwoo pressed him to tell.

“I bought it at the convenience store.”

“What? The College of Social Sciences convenience store?”

Yeon-chae quietly nodded his head. He must have vanished somewhere while waiting for the delivery and returned from the convenience store.

“I ordered delivery because I was too lazy to go there myself, but I just ended up troubling you. We didn’t even need a mat.”

“No, it’s fine. I just went quickly.”

Under the faint streetlight, the tips of Yeon-chae’s ears glowed faintly red.

Yoonwoo’s face briefly registered an apology, but it was Yeon-chae who had insisted on the lawn earlier. There was no real need to eat on the grass; an empty study room would have sufficed. Eating *jjajangmyeon* under a cherry tree in the dead of night was also quite amusing. Yeon-chae, it seemed, was willing to go to the trouble of visiting the convenience store again, even after ordering delivery, just to enjoy the fresh air while eating. Finding his pursuit of ambiance on the campus at 1 AM rather endearing, Yoonwoo chuckled.

While Yoonwoo chuckled to himself, Yeon-chae busily set out various items. When he placed something on the mat, Yoonwoo tilted his head and asked.

“What’s that?”

“It’s mosquito coil.”

“Oh…”

Yoonwoo hadn’t even known the campus convenience store sold mats and mosquito coils. Yeon-chae truly was a meticulously prepared person.

‘Next time, I should eat *jjajangmyeon* with him on the lawn at night again.’ ‘Perhaps after exam season, we could even have a beer with it.’ Thinking it was surprising that Yeon-chae enjoyed such ambiance, Yoonwoo peeled back the plastic wrap from the *jjajangmyeon* bowl. The warm breeze of the early summer night gently caressed his neck.