Ji-a waited by Min-hyeok’s car in the parking lot, arms crossed and eyes cold. Min-hyeok saw her as he walked closer. He didn’t look surprised. Inside, he thought,

Let’s see what she wants this time.

He walked up to his car and stopped in front of her. Ji-a looked at him with a sly, challenging look in her eyes.

Min-hyeok raised an eyebrow slightly.

“What’s this? Why are you here, Ji-a?”

She crossed her arms tighter. 

“I left Yeonjun this morning to come with you,” she said. “But don’t get the wrong idea. I’m still dating him. So don’t start hoping for anything.”

Min-hyeok didn’t show any reaction. He put his hands in his pockets and looked at her with a small, amused look.

“Ji-a, I dated you for two years. I probably know you better than he does, trust me. I’m not hoping for anything. I didn’t come to save you because I still care about you.” He paused for a moment. 

“Let’s just say… I had other reasons.”

Ji-a was surprised but didn’t show it. 

“Oh yeah? What kind of reasons?”

“Reasons that don’t concern you.”

“Good to know.”

And with that, she walked away without looking back.

—

Min-hyeok clicked his tongue and shook his head as Ji-a walked away. Without another word, he turned and made his way to the parking lot. His car beeped as he unlocked it, and he slid inside with a sigh. He drove out of campus without looking back.

Before heading home, he stopped near a convenience store and went inside. He walked straight to the counter.

“A pack of Narlboro Reds.”

As the cashier reached for the box behind him, Min-hyeok looked to his left and there he was. Ji-hu, alone, pulling a soda from the refrigerated shelf.

Their eyes met. Ji-hu’s face turned serious right away. He slowed down but kept walking.

Min-hyeok looked at him with eyes that seemed to mock him.

Ji-hu reached the counter just as the cashier put down the pack of cigarettes. He was clearly uneasy and almost shouted,

“Are you done? I’m in a hurry.”

Min-hyeok’s face stayed the same. He looked at Ji-hu for a moment, then turned, reached for a shelf about two meters behind him, and grabbed two boxes of XL condoms. With a smooth motion, he tossed them onto the counter. They landed with a loud slap.

Ji-hu gripped the Coke bottle tighter.

Min-hyeok paid, took the bag, and left without looking back.

Ji-hu stopped for a moment, then touched his fingers to his left side near his lower ribs, rubbing it like it was bothering him.

“Spoiled, shameless bastard…” he muttered.

—

Yeonjun kept driving after school, not wanting to go home. He didn’t want to see Ji-a, not after everything. He didn’t even know if they were still together. His thoughts spun with worry. He kept asking himself where he could go, what he should do next. Nothing felt right.

He felt lost, unsure of what would make him feel even a little better.

As he waited at a red light, he saw his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“I look like shit.”

He suddenly made up his mind. He couldn’t face Ji-a tonight. He knew exactly where he needed to go. He turned the wheel and drove off.

After parking on a quiet street, he got out of the car and looked around. Gated houses stood on both sides, with clean sidewalks, dark windows, and hedges trimmed so neatly they looked perfectly even.

He walked up to a tall, cream-colored stone wall. The black gate in front of him looked just like he remembered. A small digital keypad glowed softly on the side. There was no nameplate or sign to show what was behind it, nothing for anyone who didn’t already know.

He paused for a moment before typing in a six-digit code.

I hate this place, he thought.

A soft beep sounded, and the lock clicked. The gate opened smoothly without a sound.

The air inside smelled faintly of cedar and something more artificial, something floral, expensive, and cold. The garden was as perfect as he remembered. Trimmed hedges. A pond with dark koi gliding just beneath the surface. Subtle garden lighting illuminated a curved stone path that led toward a house set deeper in.

A gardener was working nearby, focused on a shallow stone basin filled with mossy rocks and small pine trees, arranged like a tiny mountain scene called Seokbujak.¹ When he saw Yeonjun, he quickly straightened up and bowed his head to greet him.

Yeonjun didn’t slow down. He gave a simple nod and turned his head. He followed the path he knew well. The house came into view. Wooden beams, black tiles, and glass panels shone under the garden lights. The design was traditional, but everything showed modern wealth. It felt controlled and cold.

He stopped at the front step for a moment.

Suddenly he remembered the keycard. He had left it behind a year ago, thinking he wouldn’t need it again. He stared at the door, then pressed the bell. He heard light footsteps approaching from inside. The door opened, and a woman stood there, surprised.

“Young master?” she asked.

Yeonjun gave a small, tired greeting. “Hello.”

“Please, come in,” the housekeeper said politely. Yeonjun stepped inside.

She bowed her head slightly. “I’ll let the lady know you’re here. Will you go to your room?”

“No,” Yeonjun replied. “I’ll wait in the living room. Thank you.”

She nodded and walked toward the stairs to inform the lady.

A few minutes later, a young woman walked into the living room. She was wearing tight workout clothes, leggings and a tank top, like she had just finished exercising. Her hair looked perfect, like she had been expecting someone, though it was clear she hadn’t.

She looked down at Yeonjun with clear disdain, like he wasn’t worth her time.

“You came without calling?”

Her voice was calm but distant, giving nothing away and showing no warmth. Yeonjun felt uneasy. The space between them felt heavy.

I shouldn’t have come here.

¹ A traditional Korean miniature landscape arrangement, typically composed of rocks, moss, and small trees set in shallow stone basins—often designed to evoke natural mountain scenery.