Overlooking Your Eyes

By the time the cafeteria doors opened at six o’clock, Yeong-won still hadn’t managed to complete all 30 questions. He had to spend an additional 20 minutes catching up, and it was all because of that passage about buffer zones. He couldn’t concentrate, reading the same passage six times over. But really, what fault did the passage have? This was entirely Yoo Seon-woo’s fault.

If he hadn’t seen Hyun-jin’s teasing earlier or if he had brushed it off like everyone else instead of overthinking it or if Seon-woo hadn’t suddenly approached him, buried his face in his shoulder, or brushed against his neck, none of this would have happened.

It had been so long since he’d felt this distracted that the sensation was strange almost fascinating. Even when Hyun-jin sang, danced, or pulled all kinds of stunts next to him, Yeong-won could block it out and focus. That was his greatest strength. Yet here he was, unable to concentrate just because of some strange behavior from someone he barely knew. Frustrated, he shoved his English workbook into his bag and stood up. Seon-woo was still beside him, focused on solving something at his desk.

He felt hungry, probably because of all the extra mental effort he’d spent. Resolving to eat dinner quickly and get back on track, he headed toward the front door.

“….…”

But in the hallway, his steps faltered. Though he wanted to hurry to the cafeteria, a part of him wondered if he should at least ask Seon-woo to eat together since they had been alone in the classroom. It felt wrong to leave without saying anything.

This hesitation, this sudden softheartedness, it reminded him of his father. And that frustrated him. He hated that about his father, how he could never refuse anyone’s request, even when it meant taking a loss. That trait had gradually led their family to ruin, and Yeong-won had witnessed it all.

Leaning against the hallway wall, he debated for a moment before shaking his head and stepping away.

We’re not close enough to eat together. There’s no point in wasting time on these thoughts.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Ah…”

Suddenly, Seon-woo emerged through the front door, leaving Yeong-won frozen in place, now looking like someone who had indeed been waiting. He started to deny it, but explaining would take too much effort. Instead, he simply looked up and met Seon-woo’s gaze.

“If you pull anything weird like earlier, I won’t let it slide.”

“Didn’t you say what Kim Hyun-jin did was just a joke? I was doing the same thing he did.”

“It’s not the same. Not even close. He didn’t…”

Trap me in place like that, making it so hot and strange. He didn’t touch my neck.

The words crowded his mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them aloud. Nobody could. Swallowing all the thoughts pressing against the back of his lips, he turned around and started walking down the hallway in silence.

“What’s so different about it?”

Even though he’d started walking first, Seon-woo quickly caught up with his long strides, closing the distance between them. Now they were walking side by side. Keeping his lips pressed together, Yeong-won descended the quiet stairs. A few other students were heading to dinner as well, but the halls were nearly empty.

“Well? What’s so different? Did Kim Hyun-jin do something worse?”

“…I want to eat alone.”

It was a mistake to let himself end up in the cafeteria with Yoo Seon-woo.

Carrying his tray of omelet rice, miso soup, tteokbokki, chicken nuggets, salad, and pudding, Yeong-won found an empty table and sat down. Though the school itself was quiet, the cafeteria was relatively busy, likely filled with dormitory students coming for dinner. Still, it wasn’t as bustling as it was during lunch, leaving plenty of completely vacant tables.

Scooping a small bite of omelet rice into his mouth, Yeong-won glanced up as Seon-woo sat across from him. The moment Seon-woo sat down, he felt several gazes settle on their table. Whether Seon-woo didn’t notice or simply didn’t care, he appeared completely unfazed.

“Doesn’t trying to get along with everyone tire you out?”

“Huh?”

“Like now, doing all this with someone you barely know, like me.”

Taking another bite of omelet rice, Yeong-won began mixing his salad, coated with sesame dressing, with his chopsticks.

“What exactly have I done?”

For a moment, he wondered if Seon-woo was upset, but his expression showed no sign of anger. Popping a slice of apple from the salad into his mouth, Yeong-won continued.

“You keep starting conversations, trying to do stuff, asking questions. Like earlier, you suggested going to the snack bar together. And you even told the teacher you wanted to sit next to me.”

“If you’re asking if it’s exhausting, no, it’s not. I don’t do this with everyone else.”

“….…”

“I only do it with you, Yeong-won. I asked the teacher because I wanted to sit next to you.”

“…Why just me? We only went to the same middle school. We weren’t even in the same class. I don’t think we’ve ever talked before. Even Hyun-jin says he doesn’t know you. It’s weird.”

Seon-woo, who hadn’t touched his dinner yet, leaned back in his chair. His gaze didn’t waver as he met Yeong-won’s. Realizing that avoiding his gaze would only lead to another unresolved conversation, Yeong-won held steady.

“I know you well, Yeong-won. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

For a moment, the air around them felt colder, heavier. The shift in atmosphere was subtle but distinct. Gone was the playful expression from before, Seon-woo’s face was now serious, devoid of any hint of humor. It struck Yeong-won how much that expression transformed him.

“From who?”

He braced himself for the answer, fearing it might drag up the unsavory rumors that had followed him through his first year of high school. He tensed, waiting for Seon-woo to bring up the infamous loan shark incident that had turned the school upside down.

“From here and there.”

The response was so casual that it deflated the tension in an instant. The smile returned to Seon-woo’s face like a reflex, as if it were second nature. Picking up his chopsticks and leaning forward over the table, he continued nonchalantly.

“I told you this morning, you’re famous. You’ve been the top-ranked student for two years straight. Who wouldn’t know about you? Actually, if you count middle school, that makes five years.”

“That’s really it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I was curious about you, and when we ended up in the same class, I was happy about it. I wanted to talk to you because I liked you. Do I really need more reasons?”

“….…”

As much as he wanted to believe that wasn’t the whole story, it was hard to deny the sincerity in Seon-woo’s behavior. Nothing he had done so far suggested any ill intent. He wasn’t bullying him or mocking him, he was friendly, smiling, and kind. Yet, despite this, suspicion and wariness came naturally to Yeong-won.

It wasn’t Seon-woo’s fault, it was his own nature. Years of seeing his father, crushed by betrayal from those he had trusted and cared for, crying into his drink late at night, had made him instinctively recoil from unearned kindness.

“Do I really need another reason?”

“…No. Just eat. I need to finish eating quickly and get back to studying. Because of you… things got messy… I couldn’t focus, and I have a lot of mistakes to review. If I want to finish everything I planned today, I don’t have time.”

“Because of me doing what?”

Yoo Seon-woo looked at him with genuine curiosity, like he truly didn’t understand. Annoyed, Yeong-won glared at him and stuffed another bite of omelet rice into his mouth, rubbing his nape absentmindedly. Just thinking about what had happened earlier made his neck feel hot all over again.

“…Just eat your food.”

“Did you like it?”

“What?”

“Your neck’s red again.”

“….…”

“And your face too.”

Looking at Seon-woo’s bright, smiling face, his eyes crinkling with laughter, Yeong-won felt whatever energy he had left to argue drain away. How could anyone say harsh words to someone who smiled like that? If he was honest, it was a beautiful smile, almost angelic. As silly as that sounded, it was true. For a moment, all of his emotions disappeared, leaving him staring dumbfounded at that face. Feeling self-conscious, he rubbed the back of his neck again with his fingertips.

“I’m just going to eat dinner and head home, so you can study in peace.”

Chewing on a crispy chicken nugget, Yeong-won nodded. It was a relief to hear that Seon-woo wouldn’t be lingering around. That meant he’d have the classroom all to himself for self-study during the 2nd to 4th periods. A quiet, distraction-free space to focus was exactly what he needed. His mind was already racing through what he planned to tackle in the remaining hours.

“Is that why you look so happy? I can see it all over your face.”

“Yeah. I’m happy.”

Seon-woo laughed again, but Yeong-won paid him no mind, finishing off the last chicken nugget and eating just enough to feel comfortably full.

***

By 10:30 PM, Yeong-won had completed everything he’d planned for the day without a single lapse in focus. The sound of his alarm broke his concentration, signaling that it was time to pack up. His neck and back ached slightly from maintaining the same posture for hours, but the satisfaction of finishing his tasks outweighed the discomfort.

Turning off the alarm, he tucked his workbook into his bag and stood, straightening the chair before slinging his bag over his shoulder. On nights like this, he often wished he could afford the monthly dormitory fee to stay on campus, but it wasn’t even an option given his family’s finances.

There had been a time when he’d let that bother him, when the idea of not being able to afford something as small as a few thousand won felt suffocating. But not anymore. He had learned to let go of things he couldn’t change, knowing that lingering frustration would only hurt him in the end.

Locking the classroom door behind him, he stepped into the hallway. It was eerily dark, with most of the lights already turned off, and the building felt empty. Careful not to trip, he ran his hand along the railing as he slowly descended the stairs.

The chill of the March night air greeted him as he stepped out through the unlit main entrance. The crisp breeze brushed against his face, carrying a hint of lingering winter.

“…I don’t want to go home.”

The words slipped out, as they always did when he left school at this hour. The thought of returning to that cramped one-room apartment and facing his parents’ questions about how his day went or whether he had studied hard enough made his head throb.

Crossing the dimly lit schoolyard, he exhaled a long, weary sigh.