Day Eleven. 10:02 AM.
Silence.
The kind that wasn't peaceful.
The kind that screamed something happened.
Min-Jae stared at his cereal. The cereal stared back, soggy and confused.
Across the apartment, Soo-Min sat in her room, scrolling through photos of the party.
There were pictures of them laughing, throwing confetti, eating cake, Min-Jae wearing three party hats at once...
And then the hug.
Someone had captured it.
She zoomed in.
Min-Jae's face in the photo… looked happy. Too happy.
She turned her phone face down.
---
Scene 1: Cold War of Avoidance
They passed each other in the hallway.
"Morning," he said.
"Mm-hmm," she muttered.
They reached for the same spoon.
"You take it."
"No, you."
Then awkward silence.
The spoon was left untouched. Bokki eventually claimed it like a trophy.
Even Bokki sensed the frost.
That night, she found him watching a drama rerun.
"You're rewatching Love Under Garlic Lights?"
"You said it was so bad it made your brain rot."
"I said that so you'd stop quoting it."
He didn't look up. She didn't sit down.
They existed in separate corners of the same apartment, like awkward magnets refusing to face the right way.
---
Scene 2: The Jealousy Vending Machine
The next day, Min-Jae was approached by Ye-Rin.
"Hey. Game night again. Bring Soo-Min."
"She's busy."
"You two okay?"
"We're great," he lied.
She smiled. "Then you won't mind if I invite someone who's had a crush on her for years."
He nearly dropped his phone.
"Who?!"
"Remember Dae-Woo? Tall. Dimples. Owns a Vespa."
Min-Jae's soul sagged.
Dae-Woo was everyone's Vespa-riding dream boy.
Back at home, he casually asked, "Hey, you ever liked guys with scooters?"
Soo-Min didn't look up. "Why? You getting one?"
"What if I did?"
"Then I'd fear for the public's safety."
He stormed into the kitchen and angrily bought a soda from their building's vending machine.
It said:
> Insert 1,000 won to cool down your jealousy.
---
Scene 3: The Rain Scene
That evening, it rained.
Hard.
Soo-Min left for groceries without an umbrella.
Min-Jae watched her go.
Ten minutes later, thunder cracked.
He waited.
Then ran after her with the world's worst umbrella — small, broken, and printed with cartoon cats.
He found her at the corner store, soaked, holding instant noodles.
"You forgot an umbrella."
"So did you. That thing's not an umbrella. It's a suggestion."
He stepped beside her. They walked silently under the leaking cartoon canopy.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he finally asked.
"Why are you avoiding me?"
"I'm not."
"You literally started watching Love Under Garlic Lights again. That's emotional regression."
"You've been walking around like I turned into your ex."
Rain poured.
They stopped beneath a bus stop shelter.
"It's because of the hug, isn't it?" he whispered.
She didn't respond.
"Did it mean something?" he asked.
Still nothing.
He turned to leave.
Then she grabbed his wrist.
Pulled him back.
And hugged him.
This time… longer.
Real.
Quiet.
The rain fell around them like a movie set.
And when they pulled apart, their eyes met.
"I don't know what this is," she said. "But it's not fake."
He nodded.
"I was scared to say it. But yeah. Me too."
They stood there. No labels. No big declarations. Just two drenched idiots under the same broken umbrella, holding on to something that finally made sense.
---
End of Chapter 12