The cafeteria was a buzzing hive of mid-day noise.
Trays clattered, chopsticks clicked.
Around our long table, the conversation drifted casually through the standard landscape of teenage life in late 2015. Two girls across from us were frantically debating the latest tear-jerker episodes of Reply 1988, while another classmate insisted that EXO's winter comeback was going to completely dominate the digital charts over BIGBANG.
"I'm telling you, Choi Taek's smile in episode eight was peak television," one of the girls insisted, waving a spoon in the air. "Nothing else this year even comes close!"
I nodded along absently, picking at my rice, but my mind was miles away. Beside me, Kang Min-ah leaned in close, pretending to reach for a side dish of pickled radish.
"Are you completely crazy?" she whispered sharply under her breath.
I let out a long, suffering sigh and set my chopsticks down with a dull clack.
"You've been asking me that exact same question for three whole periods, Min-ah," I complained quietly. "Aren't you even a little bit tired?"
"OF COURSE I WILL!" Min-ah suddenly barked at the top of her lungs, slamming her hand onto the table.
The entire Class 2-B table went dead silent. Heads turned from two neighboring rows, classmates shooting bewildered, startled looks at the Database Queen. Min-ah instantly froze, offering a tight, artificial smile to the room before coughing into her fist and violently lowering her volume to a fierce, dangerous whisper.
"Of course I will ask those questions!" she hissed, glaring holes into my forehead. "You know absolutely nothing about... the nature of the conflict they had! You're diving headfirst into a minefield without a metal detector, Mountain!"
I slowly shook my head, my deep voice dropping into an unyielding, serious register.
"At this point, Min-ah, I'm way too invested. I can't back off now. Not for myself, and definitely not for the sake of H-Wnot."
I leaned forward across the tray, resting my elbows on the table.
"I know for sure that their feud can't just be because of Jin-woo. There has to be... some massive, underlying misunderstanding behind the whole tragedy. But whatever it is... I need your last piece of the puzzle to see the whole picture. And after that, I'll know exactly how to deal with the problem."
I paused for a brief, heavy second, running a hand through my messy comma hair. "...Well. I hope."
Min-ah stared at my face, searching my eyes for any sign of hesitation. Seeing only stubborn Ukrainian resolve, she let out a long, defeatist breath that blew her bangs upward.
"Fine," she muttered, slumping back against her chair. "Okay... then I'll send you the encrypted archive file on New Year's Eve."
My jaw dropped.
"Why so long?!" I complained loudly. "That's almost two weeks away!"
"YAH!" Min-ah yelled again, pointing a plastic spoon directly at my nose. "Do you want to know the truth or not?!"
I quickly held up my hands in surrender, swallowing my protest.
"Okay, okay! I got it! Just... be sure that you're completely free this weekend. I'll text you later about the exact time for the JBC tour."
"Fine," she huffed, crossing her arms tightly.
I stood up from the table earlier than usual, slinging my blazer over my shoulder. When Min-ah shot me a curious look, I simply offered a vague nod. I had other pressing business to run before the next bell.
The most difficult business in the world, actually.
Relationships.
I wove through the crowded aisles of the cafeteria toward the elevated seating area where the third-year seniors usually gathered. The atmosphere up there was entirely different—quieter, cooler, and heavy with the natural authority of Kirin's top-tier trainees.
Sitting near the far window, surrounded by established upperclassmen—including the recently debuted Eun-ho—was Lee Sora.
She was as breathtaking as always. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the glass, catching the soft curves of her dark hair and highlighting her neat Kirin blazer. She was quietly sipping an iced drink, listening to a senior discuss vocal arrangements, looking like a complete star among stars.
I paused at the edge of the lower aisle, holding the small, glass-wrapped souvenir box from Jeju tightly inside my pocket.
My heart did a heavy, nervous thud against my ribs. Facing a hundred salted cabbages during Kimjang was simple.
Facing an angry, brilliant idol girlfriend with a peace offering? That was going to take every single ounce of courage I had.
That was definitely not fine.