WTFUDLS 42

Chapter 42

“Ah, hello, everyone.”

Hyunsoo walked into the classroom with his face tanned dark.

Noeul said,

“Looks like you had a really fun summer vacation.”

“Yes, yes. I went surfing in Yangyang.”

“Ah, singing about the sea, huh? So you actually went.”

“Yeah, you little devils. Even if it weren’t for you, I had friends to go to the sea with,” he said.

Hansol, sitting on the sofa and looking at her phone, snickered.

Hyunsoo looked at her and said,

“Huh? Did you just laugh at me?”

“I was just laughing.”

“Nope. That was full-on mockery. I saw it clearly.”

“You misread it.”

Hyunsoo and Hansol bickered back and forth.

Noeul watched them and quietly chuckled.

But her laughter wasn’t entirely innocent. There was something about the situation that didn’t sit right with her.

Hyunsoo loved sports. He didn’t discriminate; he played all kinds of sports. He had practically spent the summer in Yangyang surfing. His body was tanned overall, and his thighs and forearms had grown thicker. With his hair cut short, he seemed more masculine than he had in the first semester.

In contrast, Noeul had spent most of her vacation holed up in academies. Her skin was pale, and her limbs weren’t particularly muscular. Noeul’s face carried too many “minuses,” so no matter how muscular or tanned she got, it wouldn’t improve her appearance. At best, it wouldn’t make her unpleasant to look at.

Seeing Hyunsoo made her think maybe she should’ve taken better care of her body.

Hyunsoo had improved, but she felt like she had only gotten older.

When you meet someone after a long time and they’ve lost weight, gotten fitter, or become more stylish, there’s a subtle tension. Outwardly, you compliment their appearance, but inside, you compare yourself. You think, “We were at the same level, or they were below me, and now they’ve pulled ahead. What have I been doing?” and feel frustrated with yourself for neglecting your own care.

Conversely, if someone has gained weight or aged noticeably, it brings relief: “At least I’m better than them. Geez, they really should take care of themselves.”

Noeul told herself that getting an English certification over the vacation was enough. Appearance wasn’t something she cared about, so there was no need to feel competitive.

But sometimes, not having looks feels the same as not having youth. When describing youth, “young” is immediately followed by “beautiful.” Youth seems to require both.

Noeul felt that even though she was at the right age for youth, she didn’t deserve its attributes. Freedom, romance, clumsiness, brilliance… those didn’t apply to her.

For someone unattractive, it felt like they skipped youth and went straight to being old. Words like adult, grown-up, or member of society suited her, but not “youth.”

Maybe it was the start of a new semester. Noeul felt she was thinking more than usual.

Hyunsoo had already pulled a chair and sat in front of Hansol. This image—maybe it’s what many imagine as a college student, youth, or young life. Hansol was beautiful enough that Hyunsoo and Hansol didn’t clash, at least visually, in the same frame.

Hyunsoo and Hansol seemed to have grown closer since the summer trip to the valley. Hansol didn’t chatter as much as she did with Noeul, but they did joke around.

Hansol said she only hung out with people who were fun and compatible. Hyunsoo was fun and compatible, right? Couldn’t Hyunsoo be a better friend for Hansol than Noeul?

Two feelings coexisted in Noeul.

One was that she didn’t think Hansol would like someone simple like Hyunsoo. Hansol was thoughtful. She’d quickly get bored of Hyunsoo after a few exchanges and would never get the same satisfaction she got from talking with Noeul.

The other was anxiety that Hansol could always get close to someone else. Even without Hyunsoo, a fun, compatible friend could appear anytime.

Noeul hated that anxiety. So whenever someone got a little close to Hansol, she compared herself in her mind: Who would be a better friend for Hansol? Just like now.

Hyunsoo was better looking than Noeul, free-spirited, funny, and simple. But he was too shallow to be a conversation partner for Hansol. Noeul had far more in common with Hansol. When she concluded that she was a more suitable friend, she felt relieved.

If she were considering suitability as Hansol’s “boyfriend,” she would have lost every comparison. But as a friend, she had a chance.

Maybe she could claim the spot as Hansol’s closest friend. Noeul hadn’t met anyone she clicked with this well before. Hansol probably hadn’t either. So being close friends… wasn’t unreasonable.

Of course, she didn’t intend to rely completely on Hansol. She wasn’t giving up a position where she couldn’t live without Hansol. She just wanted to enjoy the joy that best friends provide—just that. Without that joy, life felt empty.

“Noeul, we should go,” Hansol said, picking up her bag.

Noeul checked the time and stood.

“Oh, right.”

Hyunsoo asked,

“Where to?”

Hansol replied,

“Our liberal arts building.”

Noeul liked that Hansol referred to the two of them as “we.” It subtly showed Hyunsoo how close they were. It was childish, but she liked it.

They walked toward the liberal arts building. Hansol suddenly pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“Dad” appeared on the screen.

She didn’t answer and put it back. Noeul didn’t comment.

Along the way, Hansol rested her hand on her pants pocket. Calls seemed to keep coming, but she didn’t answer.

“Noeul, do your parents keep calling if you don’t pick up?” she asked.

“They don’t call again. If there’s a missed call, I call them.”

Hansol nodded silently.

Noeul cautiously asked,

“Do your parents keep calling?”

“…Yeah. Until I pick up. Sometimes 60 calls.”

“Hmm…”

“Sometimes it really messes with your head.”

“They don’t understand why you can’t answer?”

“…Yeah. They think, ‘What kind of big deal are you doing that you can’t answer one call? Why carry a phone then?’ It doesn’t make sense.”

It was the first time Hansol talked about her family. She vented her frustrations.

“They always complain why I come home late… When I stay at school all night for a group project, they say I should do it during the day….”

“Very conservative.”

“Yeah. Even when we went to the valley, they complained so much. We leave early morning and come back evening, fine, but why must we overnight? We’re not going to work. Why go so early and return so late without an overnight stay?”

“It’s hard to reason with parents. At that age, they’re too fixed in their beliefs.”

“Right… I had nowhere to say it, so just venting.”

Hansol felt she had complained too much and hurriedly ended her story.

Noeul said,

“Sometimes it’s good to vent. Just once in a while.”

Noeul sounded casual, but inside she felt a thrill. How many people got to hear Hansol’s complaints? Probably only Noeul.

Listening to Hansol’s complaints felt like a privilege, like having a “best friend certificate.”

Noeul feared relying 100% on Hansol, but wanted Hansol to rely on her. That way, Noeul’s importance would increase, and leaving her would be harder for Hansol.

It was a cowardly thought. Noeul kept herself ready to withdraw anytime, to be unhurt alone, while wishing Hansol would be defenseless and hurt when Noeul wasn’t there.

“Hi~!”

Jiwoo waved excitedly at Noeul and Hansol.

They had seen each other often over vacation, so it wasn’t exactly long-awaited, but meeting after the semester started felt different.

Noeul and Hansol waved back and sat next to Jiwoo.

Noeul looked the same as always—steady and consistent.

Jiwoo felt reassured seeing that. Their relationship seemed unchanged.

Yes. That’s how it should be. Nothing changes, nothing to worry about.

Jiwoo felt like a child waking from a dream where friends drift apart after growing up, relieved that things were still the same.

She felt lucky to still be friends with Noeul.

“Did you come from the classroom?” she asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“This is my first class today, so this morning…”

Before Jiwoo could finish, three female juniors came over to their seats.

“Hello~”

All three were familiar juniors.

“Oh, hi. You guys are taking this class too?” Jiwoo asked.

“Yes! The seniors said it was fun, so we applied.”

“Right, we did too,” said one, playfully whining to Noeul:

“Senpai, you have to buy me a meal.”

“Me? Oh… why?”

“After last semester’s group project, when we all drank together, you lost a drinking game to me. Loser buys a meal.”

“Oh, I see.”

She playfully slapped Noeul’s arm.

“Why are you talking like it’s someone else’s business~?”

Jiwoo blinked.

“Slapping her arm…? Were they really that close?”

Noeul said,

“Nope. I just acted like it was my own problem.”

“Liar~”

“I’d just say, ‘Oh, I got an F,’ if I ever did.”

A girl wearing a hat interjected,

“But oppa, you’ve never gotten an F.”

Jiwoo blinked faster.

“Oppa? Oppa…? They call him that? When did they get this close? Wasn’t Noeul just studying over vacation?”

Noeul said,

“I mean hypothetically. Who actually gets an F? I’m not brainless.”

A bespectacled girl snapped,

“I actually got two Fs last semester!”

“Really? Wow, people actually get Fs.”

“Geez, you’re annoying~”

The girl shook Noeul’s shoulders vigorously.

Jiwoo was increasingly incredulous.

“They speak informally? And can grab her shoulders like that? How did they get this close? Is this normal? I took months to get close to Noeul.”

She glanced at Hansol, who was absorbed in her phone as if nothing was happening.

“Am I the only one annoyed right now?”