Hey, Min Yoongi. I clenched my molars, but then I couldn't get enough, so I chewed the inside of my mouth. The taste of blood was slowly creeping in, but it didn't matter. There was something bigger to worry about. I raised my head and met your gaze, still absentminded. It was one of the few moments when I could truly lock eyes with you. Your eyelashes, which I had once thought were long and pretty, sparkled in the morning sunlight. With a trembling heart, you took a deep breath or two, then scratched the back of your head and asked.
"Why? What's going on?"
"this···."
There was a neat piece of letter on the open hand.
"You wrote it."
×
To be blunt, this letter was it. Aka, a confession letter. And I was questioning whether it was from Min Yoongi. There were many reasons. The paper was Min Yoongi's favorite blue, his handwriting was similar, with rounded "L"s, and it was tucked neatly into the pocket of his bag, which he often touched. And most of all... I liked Min Yoongi. That's why I wanted to believe it. That this idiot, after three years, had finally expressed his feelings to me. I wanted to believe that.
"No."
"uh?"
But this idiot.
"That's not me. Letter."
"···."
They were all consistently stupid.
×
"No, no, look again."
"Yeah, I looked at it again and it's not true."
"Look more closely! Okay? Check it out carefully!"
"What's wrong with him?"
I thrust the letter before Min Yoongi's eyes. He lifted his heels off the ground and back on. He was desperate. What was I thinking when I saw this? Like a balloon deflating, the high expectations scattered into thin air. Min Yoongi, who was constantly denying me as I struggled to get an answer. I said no, I wrote it. Finally, sadness washed over me.
"···."
"But you're popular. You get confessions all the time."
He playfully tapped me on the shoulder, seemingly incapable of understanding others' feelings. "Slap." I would normally have smiled and accepted the touch, but I firmly slapped it away, jealous of its familiarity.
"Okay... Don't talk to me."
I'm saying this isn't what I want.
×
It's not just because I like you. I believed we were in the "something" phase. My mom, who used to be a No Brand fan, somehow got wind of it and bought me some silver bell-scented shampoo. Without thinking much, I just squirted a bunch of it into my hair, ran it through my hair a few times, and washed it. Even I hadn't noticed much of a change, but Min Yoongi noticed it. That little thing.
"Did you change your shampoo?"
"Is it that obvious? I don't know."
"Yeah, that's good too."
The touch of a hand stroking my hair made my heart flutter all day long. The bus stop where we quietly carried on our casual conversation, the fluttering flower petals, even your eyes flashing a faint smile, it all felt like a dream. I think it all started then. I insisted on using the same shampoo as that day. I wondered if you'd notice. That your words meant so much to me, beyond imagination. I wondered if that foolish Min Yoongi would notice.
I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.
×
I lay down on the desk, pulling out a crumpled letter. The lovely letter, once so lovely that it made me laugh just by looking at it, was no longer so lovely when its source wasn't Min Yoongi. Who had sent it? Did it even matter now? He didn't really like me, so what did dozens, hundreds of "I like you" letters mean to me? A hand tapped the desk, and I sat up.
"Are you sick?"
"··· no."
"But why are you lying down? You're usually so energetic and running around."
The urge to grab him by the collar immediately surged through me. Who am I to deserve this, you rascal! But I couldn't. The mere fact that you were concerned about me made me feel better, and I felt so miserable. I just bit my lower lip. You rascal. You truly are a rascal in so many ways. Min Yoongi stared out the window for a while before finally focusing on the letter in his hand.
"I got a confession, but you don't seem to be in a good mood?"
"I don't like it. It's annoying."
Then, the eyebrows that had been relatively tolerant until now rose slightly.
"···Why? It's not like it's that annoying."
"What if I don't like it?"
"But the person who gave it to me was sincere-"
"What do you know, I didn't even want to receive this!"
... Hey. Min Yoongi's expression hardened. Ah, I shouldn't have done that. I said something terrible in the heat of my emotions. You glanced up to check, and you seemed very angry.
"What the heck, why are you saying that?"
"··· No, I···"
"I wonder what kind of feelings that person had when he wrote that letter."
"···."
"Even if you don't like it, you shouldn't say it like that, right?"
I bit my lip hard and pulled it back. My throat tightened. Ironically, more than feeling sorry for the person who wrote the letter, I felt a surge of resentment. You shouldn't have said that. Shouldn't you be thinking of me first, before some kid whose name I don't even know? I, I like you. It's just the childish feeling of my age. But I can't help it. I'm not as mature as you. I'm not broad-minded enough to understand everyone else's thoughts. In my eighteen-year-old world, there's only you and me. Tears welled up in my eyes, uncontrollable, like a blistering explosion.
"Okay, sorry."
"··· Kim Yeo-ju? Are you crying?"
"I misspoke. I'm sorry."
"···."
The emotional byproducts that flowed out wouldn't stop, no matter how hard I tried to suppress them. From that moment on, even the words I'd kept inside were helplessly pushed out, uncontrollably. My immature heart couldn't control itself.
“··· But Yoongi, you know. I··· hate you so much right now.”
"···."
"I'm different from you, I'm so bad at it, I hate that you never take my side no matter what, and I hate that you get so angry at me like this."
"···."
“And… even if I say this, you still don’t know that I like you.”
"···."
"I really, really hate you... I think I could die."
Ah, what am I even talking about? I ran my sleeve over my reddened eyes one last time and stood up. It's over now. Min Yoongi's face, drenched in embarrassment, was proof of that. Even the distance we had barely maintained was now blown away by my selfishness, and we could never be the same again.
I ran out of the classroom like that.
×
I arrived at the infirmary. With my already reddened eyes and feverish face, the school nurse readily allowed me to rest. Skipping class when I wasn't sick was a once-in-a-lifetime extravagance. Lying on the bed, I pulled the rustling blanket up to my neck, and buried my head as the scene from earlier flashed back vividly. Why on earth did I do that? It felt good to let go of all my feelings, but the shame of what I had done was eating away at my mind.
"··· I guess I'm really crazy. It's not like we're not seeing each other anymore."
Even in this situation, I was worried about Min Yoongi, who I had left behind in the classroom. Did I push too hard? Did I needlessly upset him? Was this something I should have kept to myself from now on? That. My lips licked a few times in confusion before kicking the blankets away. A sigh escaped me.
"It's completely over now."
At that moment, the curtain covering the bed was pulled back.
"It ends as anyone would wish."
Why are you here?
×
It was an awkward encounter. My posture was stiff, like a boulder, and Min Yoongi sat on the edge of the bed, flapping the curtains. He kept his gaze fixed on me.
"Kim Yeo-ju."
"sorry···."
"Why are you apologizing? That's not what I came here for."
... wasn't it? Min Yoongi frowned at my reaction. It really wasn't. I instinctively picked up the apple I'd just swallowed and wiggled my fingers. He hesitated, then spoke first.
"sorry."
"uh···?"
"I'm sorry for getting so angry at you so suddenly."
Surprisingly, Min Yoongi apologized. I thought it would be a rejection of the confession he'd made earlier, but thanks to him, my eyes, which had been wandering sideways, were once again fixed on him. This alone seemed to lift my spirits a little, but it seemed like he hadn't finished what he'd prepared to say.
"I did that because the person who wrote the letter seemed just like me."
"··· What are you talking about?"
"I like you, but I don't have the courage to tell you, so I'll just write you a letter. I said that because I feel like you."
"···."
For the first three seconds or so, I couldn't understand. He wasn't the one who wrote the letter, but he was so angry because he felt exactly like me? After mulling over Min Yoongi's words a couple of times, I finally grasped his meaning.
"You..., do you like me...?"
"huh."
"···."
I thought it was a dream. So I rubbed my eyes once, and put my hand under the blanket and pinched my thigh. But nothing changed, only a red mark remained. It was definitely Min Yoongi who was confessing to me, not confessing.
He leaned in, his body about three inches closer to me, still dazed. A gasp of breath hit me, and only then did reality dawn on me. Min Yoongi's bright, radiant smile was something I could never dismiss as a dream.
"I guess we're not friends anymore, right?"
"···."
Just then, a fresh flower petal blew through the window and landed in front of me. And then...
The moment I saw his cheeks, which were a deeper shade of red than that, I could no longer deny it.
"My lady."
Now a warm breeze brushes the tip of my nose,
Cherry blossom petals are in full bloom,
Facing you together.
"I like you a lot."
That it's my first spring.
Reader: What is this?
Yeonmang: Trash