CEL 20

But when he tried to pick up white instead, thinking he should color something else since he wasn’t an expert, another rebuke came.

“We don’t use white either. It makes it muddy.”

“Then why is it even in there?”

“Because sometimes we do. Just not now. If you mix green with lots of water, it’ll look like this. Try it.”

After a bit of hesitation, Hamin soaked the brush with water and brought it to the easel. Not knowing how to control it, the green paint dripped down to the floor.

Watching it, he stopped the brush just before it touched the paper. Even he knew this wasn’t right.

“Art is too hard.”

“You’re harder, sunbae. Don’t ruin my assignment and just get out.”

Jaeha barely held back his laughter as he saw Hamin set the brush down without argument. The truth was, he had expected Hamin to mess up his drawing. Even though it was a well-done sketch and it would’ve been a waste, he still wanted to see it happen. It was a strange thought.

“Why were you acting like that earlier?”

“Like what?”

“You usually talk back, so why did you just sit and listen?”

Hamin shrugged. He wasn’t angry, so there was no reason to get angry.

At his age, bickering with kids was pointless. And honestly, just sitting around with others like that was unfamiliar to him, so he hadn’t thought much at all.

“Just because.”

“Everyone there seemed to dislike you. Did you do something to them?”

“Wouldn’t it be stranger if they liked me?”

“What’s so wrong with you, sunbae?”

Their puzzled gazes tangled in the air. Hamin’s look asked, is this kid crazy? and Jaeha immediately glared back a look asking, did I just say something crazy?

“You don’t have a great personality.”

“…Do you know that your own personality is worse?”

He hadn’t put it that harshly, but Hamin frowned slightly. Jaeha asked,

“Have you ever thought about getting along with people?”

“What for?”

“Because you get more out of it than you think.”

Hamin shook his head. Getting close to them wouldn’t improve his grades, and when similar people gathered, jealousy always followed. He didn’t want to waste his energy on that.

“Just handling you alone is enough.”

After tossing that out indifferently, he fiddled with the tools on the desk. Jaeha drew in a sharp breath.

How could someone say things like that so casually?

The calm look on Hamin’s face only made Jaeha’s frustration spike. Ever since meeting Seo Hamin, his blood pressure had never been normal.

“Let’s go now.”

When Jaeha spoke, Hamin was still touching things curiously, but he followed without any sign of regret.

Any time he looked like he might show a hint of cuteness… no, not cute. Who would call him cute?

Jaeha quickly shook his head like he was possessed and pushed the thought away.

“But why aren’t you at your booth?”

“I ran away because it was a pain.”

“And yet you hide that personality so well.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment?

Seeing his doubtful face, Hamin laughed.

“It’s a compliment.”

“You have a talent for making compliments sound unpleasant. You should fix that.”

“Thanks.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

They walked while exchanging half-serious words. Hamin tilted his head with a puzzled look, realizing they weren’t heading toward the law department’s booth.

“Where are we going?”

“Straight back?”

What if we don’t?

Hamin answered with his expression, and Jaeha clicked his tongue softly. If Hamin went back, he would only end up slicing more fruit until the festival closed, cleaning up afterward, then going home to sleep.

It wasn’t really Jaeha’s business, but letting Seo Hamin spend what was probably the first real festival of his life like that felt wrong.

So this was just… sympathy.

“It’s a festival. If all you do is work, that’s labor, not a festival.”

“Even festivals need workers.”

“You know, sunbae, your mouth is the problem.”

Hamin was about to reply he’s the same, but seeing Jaeha looking strangely cheerful, he swallowed the words.

The Han Jaeha past thirty hadn’t been like this. Of course, neither had he himself past thirty.

Remembering that made him laugh for no reason. Being with Jaeha made him feel younger too.

He opened his mouth and closed it again without saying anything, pretending he might speak. Jaeha’s expression turned rigid and relaxed, and when it repeated a few times, he seemed to realize Hamin was teasing him. Looking around, he brought back a big cotton candy and pushed it into Hamin’s hand.

“Stop eating air and eat this instead.”

“This is bigger than my face.”

“Perfect. Eat hard and make sure you win.”

Do I even need to win against this thing?

He obediently bit into the cotton candy. Of course it was sweet.

“You’re not eating?”

“Not my thing.”

Then how was he supposed to finish it alone?

He grumbled inwardly but kept eating, and the size shrank faster than expected. It melted in his mouth the moment he put it in, so he ate quickly.

Jaeha, watching him conquer the cotton candy without even looking embarrassed, asked,

“Do you want anything else to eat?”

“Not really.”

He said that, but his black eyes swept the area and stopped in front of a bread booth. He stayed there for a while.

“You want bread?”

“Not really.”

Despite the curt answer, his eyes were fixed on the apple pie.

Holding back laughter, Jaeha bought one with a festival coupon. Hamin muttered, “It’s fine,” but as he nibbled on the pie, his expression softened.

“You just ate something sweet, and now you’re eating sweets again?”

“The apple pie here is soggy. That makes it good.”

Was that sarcasm? His lips curled up, so it must have been a real compliment.

Now that he thought about it, Hamin always soaked his pork cutlet in sauce too.

So that was it. He just didn’t like anything crispy. His taste was like an old man’s. Jaeha clicked his tongue and realized that now that Hamin was full, there wasn’t much else to do. The square had some weird triangle sculptures, but they were pointless, and the citizen group booths didn’t draw a glance. That left the flea market, tarot, or shooting range.

He was wondering which might interest Hamin, when Hamin pulled him toward the shooting booth.

“Let’s do this.”

“For free?”

Jaeha had been leaning toward the shooting too, but since Hamin asked first, he seized the chance. Hamin lowered his eyes, looking conflicted.

“If you win, I won’t follow you for a week.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Why? You think I’m annoying, right?”

What kind of obvious nonsense was that?

Jaeha felt very annoyed. It was troublesome and irritating. But when Seo Hamin wasn’t around, it bothered him too. So yes, Seo Hamin was a nuisance, but that was his own feeling. A stalker had no right to say it.

“Isn’t it you who finds following me troublesome now?”

“After the festival I’ll have to prepare for finals anyway. The scope is wider.”

It didn’t even sound strange that he was already studying for an exam a month away.

“Traditionally, the winner’s supposed to get a wish.”

“Even verbal contracts have legal effect. That’s an unfair deal.”

“The winner gets one wish, whenever they want.”

He pretended not to hear.

Hamin was ready to refuse, but Jaeha’s eyes were shining. He wavered. They were the same eyes Jaeha had when they first met in the past.

…With him looking like that, should I just let it happen?

After all, Hamin had served in the army, while Jaeha at this point hadn’t. There was no way he would lose.

He was still weighing it when the staffer at the front, arms crossed, asked impatiently,

“Are you going to play or not? There’s a line behind you.”

“We’ll play. Here.”

“Sunbae, are we doing this?”

“…Yeah.”

He reluctantly answered. Holding the pellet gun, he felt embarrassed, like an adult trying to beat a kid. Well… he could just go easy.

He raised his hand slowly, but he heard a bang next to him, and the target dropped. Ten points.

He blinked. Unlike his dazed self, Han Jaeha hit two more tens the moment he picked up the gun.

Hamin, who hadn’t even fired once, stared blankly at the round board. Jaeha grinned and said,

“Aren’t you going to shoot?”

Hamin aimed late. He thought starting late wouldn’t matter. At worst, it would be a tie. That’s what he believed, but…

“No way. You’ve served in the army, right? Say the soldier’s creed.”

“What are you talking about?”

Hamin kept mumbling to himself. Jaeha caught pieces of it –how did I lose?– and the joy of winning mixed with satisfaction.

It had only been a one-point victory, not much to brag about, but Hamin’s reaction made Jaeha keep laughing.

“What’s your wish?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“Say it within a week.”

“Why’s the deadline so short?”

“Statute of limitations runs out faster than you think.”

“It’s five years. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Jaeha snorted at the nonsense and looked at Hamin’s bare arm.

“Our department’s doing henna. Do you want me to do one on your arm?”

“Henna? How long does it last?”

“About a week or so.”

Hamin looked down at his pale arm with interest. His job made appearance important, so he had never done anything like that. And to put Jaeha’s drawing on his body – he had never even thought of it.

But if it faded in two weeks at most… maybe he could try it.

Just as he was about to agree after a short thought…

“Hey! Seo Hamin! Did you boil your phone into soup or what!”

Hamin’s eyes widened at the man stomping toward him with angry breaths. It was Kim Hyunwoo.

Seeing his face, Hamin finally remembered why he had agreed to join the festival in the first place. How had he forgotten?

Hamin asked, flustered,

“…Did you call me?”

“Of course, you bastard! Do you know how many times? I circled this place three times, thinking, what if he actually didn’t get into Korea University and was too ashamed to admit it so he ghosted me? You crazy jerk!”

“…I didn’t answer?”

“What’s this now, some kind of act? Memory loss? Or did the cell tower suddenly collapse?”

Leaving the fuming Hyunwoo aside, Hamin pulled out his phone in a daze. There really were five missed calls.

He blinked blankly. The fact that he hadn’t answered someone’s call surprised him. Since joining ENHA, the first thing he had learned was to always answer calls, even at three in the morning, whether from a client or a colleague.

Texts, messenger, email – it was the same. He had never ignored a message while doing nothing important. That kind of slip-up was something he had made only as a rookie.

“…It’s true.”

“Thanks to you, I know this campus better than the students here.”

“Sorry.”

“But who’s this…”

After venting, Hyunwoo finally turned to the stranger who had been stuck to Hamin’s side the whole time. He had thought it might just be a passerby, but he was too close to Hamin for that.

“My junior.”

“Your junior?”

“Western painting. He’s in fine arts.”

At those words, Hyunwoo’s eyes widened, and he looked between them.

They really didn’t match.

That “Seo Hamin” was walking around with a student from another department was strange enough, and the fact that it was fine arts made it stranger.

“Not engineering, not business… fine arts?”

“Yeah. He draws well.”