CEL 36

Kim Hyunwoo

You really can’t live like that

If you don’t want to say who you’re dating, then at least put a dot next to the right one?? 1:58 PM

Kim Hyunwoo

A rich older noona, one year older 1:59 PM

Kim Hyunwoo

No???

A clueless freshman college student 2:02 PM

Kim Hyunwoo

Not this one either?

A minor Hey, you know dating a minor is a crime? 2:05 PM

Hamin, who had been staring at the messenger as it kept rising, locked the screen when the nonsense continued. Why did every adjective in front of a noun have to be like that?

After that “honey” remark that day, Kim Hyunwoo had stayed this way. One shock treatment with Kwon Doyoung had been more than enough, but Hyunwoo got caught in it too just by being nearby.

Dozens of times a day he received messages like, who are you dating, just tell me, isn’t that what friends are for. Now he was on the verge of neurosis.

While he frowned, a big finger poked his forearm.

“Who are you messaging like that? Don’t tell me it’s that high school kid?”

He turned his head. Han Jaeha, hiding his expression as much as possible, was glaring at his phone like he might chew it up.

Since they were sitting in the same lecture hall, it did feel strange.

The second semester had already started.

Whether he had deliberately chosen only the easy classes, or just got lucky, Jaeha’s orientation lectures always ended early, while the ones Hamin took had been run full time from the very first day. Because of that, their chances to meet naturally went down, and Jaeha seemed quite dissatisfied with that.

Compared to the first semester, it couldn’t even be called less, but Jaeha kept grumbling over text every time. That was why Hamin worried about how he would act in the class they took together.

But instead of the noisy behavior he expected from the moment they entered the lecture room, Jaeha was calm. No, more than calm, he seemed like a completely different person.

He looked each person in the eye and greeted them, and even gave careful answers to trivial questions.

Even to the obvious question, “Did you cut your hair over the break,” did he really need to answer?

Hamin was sure Jaeha was thinking the same thing, but Jaeha grinned and said playfully, “How did you know?” If he hadn’t belatedly remembered that the social Jaeha and the Jaeha he knew were almost like two different personalities, he would have thought Jaeha had gone insane.

He sat and stared straight at Jaeha, who was surrounded by people.

He laughed well and played well just like kids his age. At a glance he looked like someone without a trace of shadow.

He wasn’t the type to dig up others’ weaknesses. To be exact, he was closer to someone who didn’t enjoy prying into what others wanted to hide. Even if someone stepped up to say it, it would be annoying, so why go out of his way to hear something they didn’t want to say.

That was how it should have been.

“Why am I curious about that?”

“What are you curious about?”

He lifted his head at the question that answered his mutter. A familiar face.

Her name… was it Seoryeong?

Since the festival, they hadn’t had much reason to meet, so he had forgotten, but she was standing next to him, blinking and demanding an answer.

Fortunately she didn’t seem to expect that the world was so kind that he would listen just because she asked, because when he only blinked silently, she cut to the point herself.

“Um, sunbae… it’s nothing else, but I think I went too far at the festival… I wanted to apologize.”

“Festival?”

“I shouldn’t have said it like that, I was too harsh. I’m sorry.”

Had she really said something so harsh he deserved an apology?

To be honest, he barely even remembered what had happened then, but since she was going out of her way to apologize, there was no reason to spoil it, so he nodded.

“Saying it by text didn’t seem right, so I wondered when I might see you, but it’s lucky we’re in the same class.”

He wasn’t fond of this kind of small talk.

His eyes went vague with discomfort and he stared into the distance, and without him noticing when, Jaeha quickly slipped in beside him.

Their eyes met. Jaeha’s look said “No funny business,” which made Hamin laugh.

“Oh, you had a friend here. Anyway, I’m really sorry, and I’ll see you again, sunbae.”

“Yeah.”

Seoryeong bowed her head and finally left. Though “left” wasn’t quite right, since she only sat down close by, but at least she wasn’t right next to them anymore. As soon as she was gone, Jaeha jabbed at his phone and shoved it at him.

Couldn’t wait a moment before cheating?

What on earth was wrong for it to come to this?

Looking at his expression that seemed genuinely pissed off, Hamin shook his head. Just then, the professor opened the door of the lecture hall and walked in. Jaeha’s face still showed plenty of discontent, but at least he stopped talking and looked forward.

Hamin already felt tired hearing the clicking of leather shoes. Maybe because he was forcing himself to attend a class he didn’t want to hear, it was boring even though he hadn’t heard a single word yet.

Psychology of Human Relationships.

It was the most popular liberal arts class at Korea University.

As the name suggested, the purpose of this class was to focus on understanding the minds of others. The most important thing for knowing someone was to spend time with them, so the final exam was replaced with a group project presentation held once every two weeks. But the assignments were things like “drinking beer with a friend,” “going to a restaurant with a friend,” so in reality it wasn’t much different from hanging out.

The reason Hamin accepted this class that only wasted his time was simple. He thought neither of them would manage to register anyway.

Psychology of Human Relationships was a class overflowing with demand, from freshmen curious about their peers to returning students looking to chase after those chicks. For two people to both succeed in registering for it? That was impossible.

In the end, his guess was half right and half wrong.

He was about to send a text saying it couldn’t be helped while showing the screen of his failed registration, when Jaeha sent a screenshot saying “I bought two seats for the class.”

What the… how did he even buy a class just five minutes after registration opened.

It was absurd, but the mistake was that Hamin had not expected Jaeha to go this far. If he hadn’t heard that the project was done in pairs, he wouldn’t have taken the class even if Jaeha had bought two spots or twenty.

Anyway, for whatever reason, the professor who would be with them for the semester swept her eyes over the room from the podium. With her round glasses and gentle look, most students relaxed, but Hamin tapped his desk with an odd feeling.

People like that sometimes hit you from behind when you don’t expect it.

“Hello, everyone. I’m Han Chaeyoung, the professor in charge of Psychology of Human Relationships this semester. Nice to meet you. I heard this class is pretty popular among students, I guess that’s because I teach well, right?”

At the professor’s joke, the students all laughed together. At that age they laughed at anything, even at leaves rolling around.

It must be nice.

While Hamin thought that and scanned the students, Jaeha, who had been watching him, scribbled something and held it out.

No uncle-like thoughts allowed

He sure banned a lot.

Hamin snorted as he remembered all the things Jaeha had banned him from before, and when he pretended not to see, Jaeha raised his eyebrows.

Meanwhile, the professor continued talking. She explained the direction of the class and the grading system, and finally began talking about the group project that carried the most weight.

“As I just mentioned, the biggest part of the grade in this class is the project due at the end. In the past, it was done in pairs.”

The students started murmuring. The professor smiled, as if he had already expected this, and continued.

“The pros and cons of doing it with so few people were too obvious. The biggest problem was that too many couples formed, and it didn’t really fit the direction of the class.”

Seeing the students now not just laughing, Hamin sighed inwardly. No wonder he had felt uneasy.

“So this time I plan to increase the number of members. This semester you will form groups of five and do a project every two weeks. Of course, I know it won’t be easy. That’s how group projects are. With more people, there will be conflicts, there will be problems.”

Hamin openly frowned. This was something he had not expected.

“But I want you to experience that too. I think you will learn a lot. Discuss among yourselves and email me your group members by next class. For those who can’t form a group, I’ll assign you myself, so don’t worry.”

Having said the main points, the professor said teaching on the first day would be improper, and quickly left. Just as she had been late to class on her own, she left on her own.

Who was going around recommending this class as good?

Hamin stayed in the lecture hall watching the students form groups, then spoke to Jaeha.

“I’m going to drop it.”

“What?”

“It takes too much time.”

This time, even Jaeha didn’t argue. Even he thought insisting they keep taking it was unreasonable.

He thought maybe he should have taken that law-whatever class instead.

Regret came late. But in fact, from the very beginning, the only class Jaeha wanted to take with him was Psychology of Human Relationships.

It had to be that way.

Now that the semester had started, Seo Hamin would be busy saying he had assignments or it was exam period and slipping away. Then there would be almost no time to see him. In that sense, Psychology of Human Relationships, where he could secure time with Hamin under the name of assignments, was a class he had to hold on to.

That class suddenly becoming a five-person group project was also absurd for him. He didn’t want to share Seo Hamin with anyone, but the regret he couldn’t let go grabbed him tightly inside.

If I drop this, then I won’t be able to take the same class as sunbae.

He didn’t think carelessly that there would be another chance next semester. He and Hamin were still in a relationship that couldn’t be clearly defined. In other words, a relationship that might not exist tomorrow.

If Hamin changed his mind and cut off contact, this thin bond could collapse at any time. That fact left him restless.

Seo Hamin must not do that. After making him this way, that must not happen.

But this was not something that could change just because he insisted. Feeling gloomy, he muttered without realizing.

“I want to break sunbae’s leg. So you can’t go anywhere.”

“Then you’ll get at least a real prison sentence.”

“What about you, sunbae? I can’t do anything every day because of you and live only thinking about you. You drove me crazy like this.”

Hamin paused then answered.

“… I think you could be charged under the anti-stalking law.”

Jaeha immediately frowned.

“Forget it.”

“But anyway, you can’t sue me.”

“Why, because it’ll be dismissed for lack of evidence?”

His stiff mouth corners lifted slightly. His cheekbones rose faintly, and a he laughed.

Smiling like that again.

In any case, Seo Hamin had to fix that habit of doing that only when he was at a disadvantage. While he rubbed his ear that kept heating up against his will, an answer he hadn’t expected came back.

“No, because it would be mutual.”

“… What does that mean?”

He asked blankly, then belatedly looked around. Fortunately, the others were too absorbed to pay attention to even small conversations. He wanted to grab Hamin’s shoulder and shake him demanding what he meant, but that was impossible.

This was why he liked Hamin’s house.

He thought of the neat room that resembled its owner. The floor was white, the wallpaper was white, it looked like a psychiatric hospital, but everywhere he touched there was the scent of forest that reminded him of Hamin, so it was a space he couldn’t help but like. Now that vacation was over, what excuse could he use to keep going there?

While his thoughts naturally extended in that direction, one of the girls who had stuck to Hamin before class, acting friendly, came hesitantly closer. She looked familiar. Then he realized she was someone from the festival.

“Sunbae, have you decided your group?”

Sunbae, what sunbae, when did you even meet?

Jaeha mocked her inwardly but kept a calm face. Compared to Western Art and Law, which were almost polar opposites, she was closer as someone from the same department, but that didn’t matter to him.

“No, I’m going to drop it.”

“What? Why? This professor gives good grades.”

“It takes too much time.”

“Sunbae, you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Professor Han Chaeyoung is the wife of the ‘crazy ghost.’ So students in this class get extra points without realizing it.”

Hamin blinked at Seoryeong’s words. He understood that the crazy ghost she mentioned meant Professor Lee Hangjin, but the rest was new to him. When he looked around consciously, he saw quite a few familiar faces.

He gives good grades?

Professor Lee Hangjin had a fickle, difficult personality, and was known as one of the hardest professors to get grades from. In his Real Estate Law class, fewer than three people per semester got an A+, and the school community was always full of complaints. Even Hamin had been extremely cautious through every step of his class.

But this one was supposed to give good grades just for taking it?

While he was lost in thought, Jaeha suddenly cut into the conversation.

“Hello, nice to see you again. The last time was at the festival, right?”

“Oh, yes. Hello. I’m Kim Seoryeong.”

“If you’re Hamin-sunbae’s junior, then we must be the same age. Are you a sophomore?”

“Yes.”