Kim Woon-hak at 11 o'clock at night

7

For several days, Unhak's seat in the library was empty.

For the first day or two, I thought it was just a coincidence. It was exam time, so I figured he must be studying somewhere else, and I let it slide.

But from the third day onwards, I started to feel a little anxious.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. The question I asked that day.

"Unhak, you said you listened to the radio often before. Aren't you curious about who the DJ is?"

He asked with a smile as if it was nothing, but Unhak's answer was unexpected.

김운학

"Actually. I've been wondering sometimes. But... I wondered if I could listen as comfortably as I do now if I knew who that person was."

That was more complicated than I thought.

An open mind toward me, and at the same time, a gut feeling that I might be a DJ. And then, when I found out, the distance between us would change.

So at that moment, I paused for a moment.

I could have said it was true, but I couldn't open my mouth.

Perhaps that brief silence spoke volumes.

The next day, when I met Unhak at the library, he seemed no different from usual, but he seemed a little cautious.

The amount of time we spent making eye contact decreased, and instead of taking notes, we spent longer looking at our laptops.

We were still sitting at the same desk, but strangely, the conversation had quieted down.

I also started to notice his expression.

Since that day when I didn't reveal my identity, I've become cautious about what I say, fearing that it might once again draw a line.

A few days later, he stopped coming to the library at all.

I hesitated to send the message, but in the end I didn't.

Did he think I was avoiding him?

Or maybe my mind became complicated after I became certain that I was a DJ.

At 11 PM, I turned on the live broadcast for the first time in a long time.

Somehow I was looking forward to bearwith_u's comment.

The same place, the same familiar tone of voice.

But today it was quiet.

I was thinking about posting a picture of a tumbler with a bear sticker on it on the notice board, but I gave up.

'I'm sure he'll like it.'

The ID is a bear, and the profile picture is also a bear.

I chuckled for no reason, but my hands didn't move.

The comment section was no different than usual.

But, there was one thing missing: that familiar tone of voice.

Just the absence of that tone of voice made the night feel unfamiliar and distant.

After finishing the radio and closing my laptop, I looked out the window for a moment.

It was raining.

The sound of rain hitting the window,

And it seemed as if I could hear the quiet monologue of someone who might be somewhere.

I should have spoken first that day.

"Unhak, it's actually me."

I should have said that.

We missed the timing and that's what drove us apart.

Am I too late?

That thought bothered me.

The night was strangely quiet, simply because a familiar presence had disappeared.