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Chapter 47
“Think the Madman’s pop quiz will actually happen this time? It’s not another fake-out like last time, right?”
Noh-eul said as she picked up some dried snacks.
Ji-woo replied,
“I think it’ll be real this time. He wouldn’t lie twice in a row, would he?”
“You never know with that guy. He lives to mess with his students.”
Ji-woo nodded.
Noh-eul didn’t feel at ease. Ever since she left the lab, she’d been strangely tense.
Ji-woo suggesting they drink together — and the way she wasn’t being her usual chatty self — made it obvious she had something to say.
But really, what could Ji-woo have to say that was so serious?
Noh-eul ran through all kinds of guesses but came up with nothing.
Probably something trivial again. Nothing to get worked up over.
She took a sip of beer.
Ji-woo spoke first.
“Noh-eul.”
“Yeah?”
“Did it… bother you when I said you were my boyfriend yesterday?”
“…Yesterday? No, not at all. …Why? Did I look upset?”
Noh-eul answered as if it hadn’t even crossed her mind — though inside, she flinched.
Ji-woo hadn’t said anything at the time, but maybe she had noticed something. Maybe Noh-eul’s expression had given it away for a moment.
She’d assumed Ji-woo hadn’t thought twice about it, but apparently Ji-woo had picked up on her mood. The fact that she was bringing it up now, over drinks, probably meant she’d been thinking about it ever since.
Was she worried she’d offended Noh-eul somehow?
Maybe Ji-woo really was thoughtful and sensitive, and maybe she really had been troubled because of Noh-eul. Maybe Ji-woo was actually a decent person.
…Or maybe Noh-eul just wanted to think that.
Why did her thoughts always drift that way?
Even after seeing all that evidence that Ji-woo wasn’t like that — was this just confirmation bias? Seeing and hearing what she wanted to, inflating tiny clues into something big and meaningful?
She’d been so angry yesterday — swearing she wouldn’t try to understand Ji-woo again, that they could never be friends — and now, with just one question, she was ready to forgive her?
No. She couldn’t make the same mistake again.
Even if she was judging Ji-woo too harshly, it didn’t matter. Their relationship wouldn’t change.
Passport and toy. That’s all it was.
She wasn’t going to trust Ji-woo again, only to end up hurt like yesterday.
Ji-woo spoke softly.
“I just… thought maybe I crossed a line or something.”
“No way. What’s there to be upset about? I almost took that picture and passed it down to my future kid, you know?”
“…Seriously?”
“Yeah. Come on, it was just a joke.”
It was better to leave it at that — pretend she was really fine, that she hadn’t been hurt by a dumb prank.
“Even if it was a joke… if you were upset, I should still apologize.”
“I said I’m fine. Anyway, aren’t you cold over there? Feels like the AC’s blasting on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Guess it’s okay since you’re wearing long sleeves. Still, already wearing long sleeves? I’m dying from the heat.”
“…But still… I mean, when I said you were my boyfriend and grabbed your arm like that — I thought you’d have every reason to be upset.”
Noh-eul’s attempt to change the subject failed.
Ji-woo was clearly hung up on what happened yesterday. Maybe she’d acted without thinking, seen Noh-eul’s expression, and then gone home realizing she’d done something wrong.
Ji-woo continued,
“So if it even bothered you a little, can’t you tell me? I promise I won’t get hurt or mad.”
Of course she wouldn’t. Why would Ji-woo be hurt if Noh-eul was the one who’d been uncomfortable?
And honestly, how ridiculous would it be for Noh-eul to admit she’d been offended?
Someone like her, upset over something like that — people would just laugh at her for being pathetic.
Noh-eul said,
“No, really, why are you being weird? When did you start worrying about useless stuff like this?”
“……”
Ji-woo didn’t answer. Her face darkened.
She really did think Noh-eul had been upset — and was disappointed that she wouldn’t just say so.
Was it that obvious?
Noh-eul’s resolve softened a little.
Nothing had changed between them. She wasn’t suddenly deciding Ji-woo was a good person after all.
But if Ji-woo had been thinking about this enough to bring it up… maybe Noh-eul shouldn’t be so defensive.
She’d tell her just enough to make Ji-woo feel better — enough to let her apologize and move on. That was probably best for both of them.
Noh-eul said,
“It’s not that I was upset. It’s just… I knew that guy would probably badmouth me later.”
“Badmouth you? Why?”
Noh-eul found Ji-woo’s innocent look irritating.
Really? She didn’t get it? Really?
Fine. Noh-eul had to assume Ji-woo was truly clueless — otherwise she might think Noh-eul had caught on.
“Of course he would. Someone like me, dating a pretty girl like you? Everyone would mock me behind my back. You’re the only one who doesn’t see it.”
That last part — that was what Ji-woo wanted to hear.
Noh-eul continued,
“It’s not your fault. I just have a bit of an inferiority complex, that’s all.”
Ji-woo pouted, her big eyes glistening — the kind of expression that said, Aww, you poor thing.
That should do it. Ji-woo had said what she needed to say, heard what she wanted to hear.
Time to wrap this up.
“Aww, forget it. What do you know about having an inferiority complex, huh? You wouldn’t understand how I feel.”
Ji-woo would probably say something like, Hey, I do understand! and then they’d both laugh and move on.
But instead Ji-woo said quietly,
“You’re not ugly.”
“…Why do you keep saying that? What’s this weird bit you’re doing?”
“It’s not a bit. You’re really not ugly.”
Her tone was firm — a mix of frustration and sincerity.
Noh-eul didn’t know how to respond. Maybe she should just play it off as a joke.
“…Really?”
“Yeah!”
“Okay, thanks. Guess friends are all I’ve got. Cheers.”
She lifted her beer glass.
That should’ve been the end of it.
But Ji-woo didn’t lift her glass.
Instead, she looked almost angry.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“…What? No, I do! I said thanks, didn’t I? You’re the best friend.”
“I’m not saying that as a friend. You’re really not ugly.”
Ji-woo looked genuinely upset now.
Noh-eul was confused. What on earth was this about?
“Okay, okay. I believe you.”
“……”
“…?!??!”
Noh-eul froze. Ji-woo’s eyes were filling with tears.
Her brows knit, lips pressed tight, face flushing red — like a kid about to throw a tantrum in a department store because she wasn’t getting a new game console.
Noh-eul’s brain short-circuited.
She couldn’t figure out why Ji-woo was crying or what to say — she just sat there blinking dumbly.
Then, a fat tear rolled down Ji-woo’s cheek.
What the hell is happening right now?
Ji-woo’s nostrils flared slightly as if she’d met her mortal enemy.
Through trembling lips, she said,
“Why won’t you believe me?”
“…Huh?”
“I said it so many times! Why won’t you listen or believe me?”
Her voice quavered more with every word.
“I meant it when I said you’re not ugly…”
When she blinked, the tears pooled at the corners of her eyes and spilled over, one after another.
She sniffled, her lips quivering.
“……”
Noh-eul just stared at her, dumbfounded.
Noh-eul had no idea how she’d walked home from the bar. Her head had been pounding the whole way.
It felt like she’d buttoned something wrong — and not just one button, but two thousand five hundred and eighty of them — and now she couldn’t tell where she’d messed up.
Where had her thinking gone wrong?
When Ji-woo cried, that’s when it hit her.
She hadn’t been listening at all. Ji-woo had been serious from the start, and Noh-eul had completely shut her out.
The realization that she’d been that blind and defensive was… jarring.
But could Ji-woo really have meant it? Did that make any sense?
Noh-eul had dismissed it because it sounded impossible — but Ji-woo hadn’t looked like she was lying.
Those tears had been the kind that come from genuine hurt — from not being believed when you’re telling the truth.
Could there be some hidden reason she’d go that far to lie? Some elaborate prank that required Oscar-level acting?
No. There was no reason for that.
“Wow…”
Noh-eul realized just how defensive she really was.
She’d been so certain Ji-woo was lying that she’d twisted every piece of evidence to fit that belief.
No wonder nothing Ji-woo said had gotten through until she started crying.
Why did Ji-woo think that way, though?
Something had to be off — her eyes, her brain, something.
But still… if Ji-woo didn’t think Noh-eul was ugly, that meant a lot of the things she’d written off as fake — the compliments, the concern, the kindness — might’ve been real.
“……”
It was too much to process.
How badly had she misunderstood Ji-woo all this time?
“Am I really that awful to you? So much that you can’t believe a word I say?”
Awful? No way…
“I know I don’t measure up to you, but… I still want to be close to you.”
Doesn’t measure up? No… no way…
It was all too confusing — like discovering some huge secret about her own life.
The whole world felt like it had been lying to her.
She didn’t know where to start rethinking things — or what to believe anymore.
Part of her felt giddy at the thought that Ji-woo really didn’t think she was ugly.
Another part still doubted it, wondering if Ji-woo had some ulterior motive.
And realizing that her so-called “rational” thinking had actually been driven by insecurity and self-defense — that was maybe the biggest shock of all.
She lay down on her bed,
resting her arm over her eyes,
and sank deep into thought.
