Campus Log - Chapter 17

We walked to the business building without saying a word. The thick green canopy cast shadows over the sidewalk, but it didn’t stop the air from growing warm and heavy. Beads of moisture formed on the plastic cup.

The Ryu Eun-seok I knew was someone people sought out wherever he went, someone who didn’t dislike the attention, someone who could change the atmosphere with one smile, someone who naturally created a hierarchy just by enjoying what he had.

So the teary-eyed Ryu Eun-seok, the Ryu Eun-seok who fought with his friends while throwing in curses, and the quiet, gloomy Ryu Eun-seok now—every single one of them felt utterly unfamiliar.

“Half of that was a lie.”

As he walked, eyes fixed forward, he suddenly blurted out something nonsensical. When I looked up at him, confused, he pressed the cold cup to his cheek and muttered,

“I have been depressed lately, but it’s not like I’m living off triangle kimbap every day.”

His face was still turned ahead, but his eyes flicked toward me now and then.

“I can keep going to school. I can at least afford to buy you a cup of coffee as thanks, so what I said earlier, don’t take it seriously.”

It seemed he’d blurted it out in anger because his friends kept sneering at him. My heart had already felt heavy because of the coffee in my hand, but since things weren’t as bad as he’d made them sound, it felt like I could finally sip through the straw without guilt.

My class was on the first floor, and Ryu Eun-seok’s was on the second. But instead of heading straight up the stairs, he lingered in front of them.

“Hong Sang-hee.”

I suddenly realized he’d been calling my name a lot lately.

“Listen well in class.”

Ryu Eun-seok awkwardly raised his hand halfway, then lowered it again. The gaze that had been directed at me slipped off to the side.

“Yeah. You too.”

I returned the same farewell and turned away.

And quietly, the realization crept in—that my name was appearing far too often on one particular person’s lips.

***

Finally, there was news of rain this Wednesday. A weekday combined with rainy weather was the perfect recipe for visiting the amusement park.

The number of people had dropped sharply. Fortunately, I only had one class that day, so it seemed like I could head to Yongin in the afternoon to see the panda family.

Even as I skimmed through the lecture materials filled with complicated graphs, I couldn’t hide my excitement. Since I’d be there anyway, I should buy a few new stickers and put them in my diary.

I was quietly pleased with my own plans and smiling to myself when someone poked me in the back. The sudden touch was unpleasant, but I tried not to frown too much as I turned around.

By the middle of the semester, everyone’s seats had become more or less fixed. Because of that, the male senior who sat behind me had become familiar.

I didn’t know his name, but I knew he was in the same year as Kim Do-wan. Despite his older-looking face, he liked wearing hoodies. He was also the one who’d blatantly asked me last week if Ryu Eun-seok’s family had gone bankrupt.

“Are you Hong Sang-hee?”

Last time, they’d been passing around the wrong information among themselves, so I guess from that incident he’d figured out my real name. I nodded.

“You’re taking Corporate Ethics, right?”
“Yes.”

“Did Professor Kim Ki-jeong give out another case study assignment this time? Is that right?”
“Yes.”

The more the conversation continued, the harder it became to figure out what this guy actually wanted.

“He doesn’t like cases you just pull off the internet.”

So what was I supposed to do with that? Was he trying to show off? Normally, I could figure out what someone wanted fairly quickly, but right now I had no idea why this guy was talking to me.

“I took that class last year. I found a bunch of decent overseas cases, and I still have some left.”

While he rambled on, praising himself, his friend beside him was covering his own mouth with his palm. He was definitely holding back laughter. My mood instantly soured.

“If you need them, I can give you a few. I got an A+ in that class.”

Suspicion immediately crept up, as if it had been waiting its turn. No one in this world gives up their share purely out of goodwill.

Even dropping a thousand-won bill into the Salvation Army’s red kettle is ultimately for one’s own satisfaction. But for this guy to offer assignment materials so easily to a junior he didn’t even know existed until last week—where exactly was he finding satisfaction in that?

“Why?”

I asked the fundamental question. The guy’s face flushed red like someone overheated from the sun, and his friend beside him buried his face in his desk, shoulders shaking.

“Who are you, that you’d give me something like that?”

“N-no, I just—”

Right then, someone dropped a bag onto the empty seat beside me.