Episode 39
22 May 2025, Thursday. Late morning. SNU's chemistry faculty, Building 501, study lounge on the 3rd floor.
"Dongsaeng. I need to talk to you."
They stepped into a small, empty hall between corridors. Den explained the situation quickly—about the dress, about So-mi's plan—then finished bluntly:
"So… I need to somehow get into the girls' dorm room and steal that dress."
Min-jae reacted instantly, almost physically recoiling.
"Are you out of your mind?"
What is this, the Stone Age?
There are cameras everywhere. Cameras in the dorm corridors. Night guards on every floor. Electronic locks on the rooms. How exactly do you imagine sneaking in there unnoticed?"
Den scratched his chin, thinking aloud.
"I don't know… maybe through the balconies?"
Min-jae shook his head hard.
"You'll get caught immediately, and security will be called."
"I don't know how things work in Russia, but here we don't climb into women's dorm rooms through balconies.
That ends very badly."
Den stubbornly repeated:
"I need that dress."
Min-jae exhaled sharply.
"Unbelievable… of all the people God could send me, it had to be you."
He paused, then added with resignation:
"We'll ask Han-bin."
Now Den frowned.
"That's an even crazier plan."
"After Monday, she looks at me like I brought doom upon the entire human race.
She'll never help me."
Min-jae patted his shoulder.
"She will.
Girls love romantic stories. Trust me. She'll help."
22 May 2025, Thursday. Noon. SNU's chemistry faculty, connecting passage between Buildings 500 and 502.
They stood on an open skybridge between buildings, facing Han-bin.
Her arms were crossed over her chest.
Her entire posture radiated one clear message: absolutely not.
"I don't even want to hear it," she declared coldly.
She pointed a finger straight at Den.
"Den oppa.
You're a cruel, stupid, tactless, uncivilized idiot."
Then her finger swung toward Min-jae.
"And you—if you keep this up," she said, sweetly dangerous, "you're going to the movies tonight not with me, but with your precious hyung."
"Do you understand me, Kang Min-jae?"
Min-jae visibly shrank under her glare and shot Den a guilty look.
Han-bin continued, her voice sharp but shaking with real emotion.
"Poor Mi-yeon. She cried all night.
All night!"
She threw Den a contemptuous glance.
"And you two want me to help disturb her poor heart again?
Not happening."
Den didn't interrupt.
He listened—quietly, seriously—letting her anger spill out.
When there was finally a pause, he spoke calmly.
"Han-bin. Listen.
You don't want the dress recovery to be connected to my name?
Fine. No problem."
"Just let me do something that makes her smile.
Give me the dress so I can restore it.
I'll give it back to you.
You can say you took it to some fancy dry cleaning place with new technology. Whatever sounds convincing.
He lowered his voice.
"Just… give me a chance to fix at least that.
Please."
Han-bin looked at him long and hard.
Up at him, actually—he was a head taller—but the weight of her gaze felt heavier than height.
"…You're really something else, Oppa," she muttered. "You know that?"
Den nodded.
"I've been told."
Han-bin exhaled, then finally relented—just a little.
"Fine.
I'll see what I can do."
She straightened, already reclaiming control.
"Wait in your dorm's lobby after classes."
She snorted, flipped her hair, and walked away with that confident, graceful stride—
very deliberately timed so Min-jae couldn't help but watch her go.
Min-jae swallowed.
"…I told you," Den muttered to Min-jae. "The balcony route would have been easier."
But the tension had clearly left his shoulders.
22 May 2025, Thursday. Evening. SNU, men's dormitory, lounge across the lobby.
Den and Min-jae were sitting in the dormitory lounge when Han-bin walked in.
They didn't even have time to stand up.
Han-bin marched in like a field commander entering enemy territory.
No greeting. No hesitation.
She walked straight to Den, placed Mi-yeon's dress into his hands with deliberate care, and only then spoke.
"Mi-yeon takes this dress out of the closet from time to time," she said flatly.
"So don't take too long. If she notices it's missing, I am telling everything.
You will deal with the consequences of that yourselves. I'm washing my hands of it."
She looked directly at Den.
"And if you ruin it even more or lose it.
I'll personally buy you a Japanese ceremonial sword."
Den lifted his eyebrow.
"Why not Korean?"
Han-bin scoffed icily, "Koreans didn't practice seppuku."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Did you understand the level of danger we're talking about?"
Min-jae didn't breathe.
Den nodded slowly.
Han-bin snorted, making it very clear what she thought of this entire operation. She turned, opened the door, then paused in the doorway and added without looking back:
"Don't screw this up, Oppa.
I won't help you a second time."
And she was gone.
The door closed.
For a few seconds, the room was completely silent.
Den and Min-jae looked at each other.
Min-jae finally exhaled.
"…We're dead if anything goes wrong."
Den nodded. "Life is too short either way."
He picked up his phone and typed a message to So-mi.
I have the dress.
So-mi was studying in her bedroom. She lifted her head from her hand, stopped reading her textbook, and read the message.
Despite herself, she smiled.
What a lunatic. He actually managed to get it?
The smile disappeared almost instantly.
Her face settled back into its neutral, controlled expression.
She typed back.
Impressive. I'll send a car for it.
22 May 2025, Thursday. Late evening. Yu-ra's apartment building.
Yu-ra was lying in her room, slowly turning a paper rose between her fingers.
She sighed.
She picked up her phone.
Set it down.
Then picked it up again.
Finally, she typed a message to Den.
Hey. What are you doing?
Den was walking down the dormitory stairs with the dress carefully folded in his arms, on his way to meet So-mi's driver in the parking lot. He typed as he walked.
Participating in a secret rescue operation.
Of sorts.
Yu-ra let out a quiet laugh.
Saving the world?
A few seconds later, Den's reply arrived.
Something like that. Not the whole world. Just a small, important part of it.
Yu-ra smiled to herself and quickly typed several messages one after another.
I have faith in you.
Btw, at the end of November, the student council is organizing a paintball competition between the Chemistry and Physics departments again this year.
I know it's still far in the future. But you should sign up now and tell your friends to do so as well. Places fill up fast. There are only so many spots.
I'll be one of the referees.
I want to see how you perform in action.
A moment later, she read his answer.
If no one buys me a Japanese sword before that, then I'll definitely sign up.
Yu-ra stared at the screen, amused.
"…Japanese sword?" she murmured.
"What is he even talking about?"
She smiled anyway.
Such a strange guy.
And somehow… very endearing.
She decided not to ask.
23 May 2025, Friday. Late afternoon. Bus stop near SNU's upper campus.
The weather felt almost like summer.
Warm, thick air lingered even after classes, carrying the faint sweetness of something blooming nearby. The sky was clear, light, untroubled—nothing like yesterday's rain.
This time, she came early.
Yuna hurried across the street, nearly jogging. She slipped into a small café, ordered quickly, and left just as fast, holding two paper cups of ice cream. The cold seeped through the thin cardboard, but she didn't slow down. She headed straight for the bus stop.
She sat down on the bench, placing the two cups carefully beside her.
One vanilla.
One strawberry.
She glanced toward the path from campus, then again. Her foot bounced lightly against the ground.
Okay.
I'll just say thank you.
That's all.
Thank you for yesterday.
And then… maybe I'll ask if he wants to have lunch together tomorrow. The noodle place, near the gates. Casually. Like it's no big deal.
It's not weird. People do that.
And ice cream first. Ice cream is safe.
She looked at the cups and smiled to herself, already imagining how she would hand one to him.
He'll probably say he doesn't mind the flavor. Or that he likes vanilla. Or strawberry.
Either way is fine.
Down the path, he appeared.
Do-hwa was walking toward the stop, shoulders relaxed, steps unhurried.
And then he saw her.
She was sitting there, sunlight catching in her hair. Pink jacket. Bare legs. Cup of ice cream in her hand.
His heart skipped.
She looks… really beautiful.
He slowed without realizing it.
Ice cream is good.
I could ask what flavor she likes.
That's normal.
Then maybe talk a little.
Maybe suggest getting ice cream together sometime.
That would be great!
He took another step.
Then he noticed it.
Two cups.
He stopped.
Two…?
He stared, his thoughts shifting abruptly.
She must be waiting for someone.
Of course she is.
The conclusion hit him instantly.
Someone like her… of course she'd have a boyfriend.
That's normal.
That's how things are supposed to be.
He swallowed, his chest tightening for reasons he didn't fully examine.
I shouldn't get in the way.
It would be awkward.
I don't want to see that.
He turned.
Without looking back, he took the path through the park instead, heading for the next bus stop.
Half an hour later, Yuna was still there.
The ice cream had softened, melting into pale, uneven puddles beneath their plastic lids. One cup tilted slightly in her hand.
Her shoulders had slumped.
This is stupid.
I'm trying to impress a guy who doesn't even notice me.
She stared ahead, eyes unfocused.
Everyone else has someone.
Min-jae and Han-bin are basically a couple already.
Den and Mi-yeon… it's obvious.
Se-a is always hovering around Chang-woo, even while pretending he's not good enough for her.
Su-yeon and So-mi? They have more admirers lining up than they care to remember.
Her grip tightened around the cups.
And me?
I'm completely alone. Chasing the heartless, blind guy.
She sniffed softly, annoyed at herself.
That's it. No more!
After exams, I'm signing up for a dating site.
I want to be happy too.
A bus approached.
She stood, threw away the melted ice cream without looking, and boarded.
The doors closed. The bus pulled away.
The bench was left empty.
Sunlight fell across the quiet bus stop, warm and indifferent.
It had been waiting for no one at all.