WTFUDLS 39

WTFUDLS

Chapter 39

…You.

“……”

…You.

“……”

…You.

Ji-woo stared blankly at the wall.

Ever since coming back from the trip, only one scene kept replaying endlessly in Ji-woo’s head — over and over, sometimes sped up, sometimes slowed down, zoomed in and out, endlessly looping.

They tried to focus on other things, wondering why their mind kept returning to it, but the moment they let their guard down, that memory resurfaced again.

Ji-woo thought:

Could it be that I… maybe I…

…like No-eul?

Otherwise, how could I keep thinking about her like this?

No-eul was… she was a good person. Fun to be around, considerate, smart, easy to talk to…

Ji-woo recalled all the times spent with No-eul and the feelings that came with them.

They had looked forward to hanging out with her, felt disappointed when they couldn’t see her, and felt a little hurt when she seemed especially close with someone else.

But those were things you could feel between close friends too, right? That alone didn’t mean it was love. Ji-woo had never desperately missed her, never felt heartbroken because of her.

Wait… I’ve thought about this before, haven’t I?

They couldn’t recall exactly when, but it had definitely happened.

Only, back then, No-eul didn’t linger in Ji-woo’s mind like she did now. Something was different.

So had Ji-woo’s feelings for No-eul changed?

It felt like their mind wasn’t in a normal state. Everything that happened recently had left them overly agitated, unable to think clearly.

They decided to calm down first, to give it time before making any conclusions. If they thought about it like this and decided, “I must like No-eul!”, things could spiral out of control from there.

Once you start thinking you like someone, you start noticing them more, and the more you notice them, the more you like them — a cycle that feeds itself.

Maybe after things settled down, these feelings would turn out to be nothing.

Yeah. Ji-woo couldn’t possibly like No-eul. Couldn’t possibly…

Ji-woo subconsciously believed that they couldn’t like No-eul that way.

But why?

Because…

“……”

Ji-woo knew the answer — but didn’t want to believe it.

Realizing what they’d been thinking shocked them, and left them uncomfortable. The idea that they could like or dislike someone for that reason was hard to accept.

Ji-woo was confused. Everything they believed about themselves was shaking.

Would No-eul know that Ji-woo was this confused because of something she said?

Did she really mean what she said that night? If No-eul hadn’t been serious and only said it to humor Ji-woo, and Ji-woo was the only one agonizing over it, that felt unfair somehow — like they were stuck in their own delusion.

But no matter how much they thought about it, Ji-woo couldn’t tell if No-eul had been serious.

Their gut said she had been. You can just tell from the tone of someone’s voice sometimes.

But the memory was already getting hazy, and Ji-woo wasn’t even sure if they remembered it right. Maybe they were just hearing what they wanted to hear.

Since it was vacation, they couldn’t see No-eul every day like before. They’d only see her Friday, when they met to prepare for the contest.

Three days left until then…

Ji-woo felt like they’d spend all three days thinking about this.

It was driving them crazy.

Playing with their phone, Ji-woo finally sent No-eul a message.

[ What are you doing? ]

“……”

They waited for the “1” to disappear.

One minute passed, then two — but the “1” didn’t go away.

Why isn’t she checking her messages? Ji-woo grumbled, checking the time. It had only been four minutes.

Still, the waiting was torture.

Do I have an excuse to call her?

Maybe they could ask what to bring for Friday. They had talked about it before, but they could just pretend they forgot.

That sounded reasonable enough.

Ji-woo called No-eul.

The ringing tone played.

Normally, calling her didn’t mean anything, but today Ji-woo’s stomach fluttered nervously.

[ What. ]

“Hey, why didn’t you reply?”

[ …Ah. Sorry. What’s up? ]

“Uh… remember what we were supposed to prepare for Friday?”

[ Yeah. ]

“What was it again? We talked about it before we left, right?”

[ How do you forget something that small. ]

“I was thinking about something else at the time.”

[ We each take one competitor company to research. Yours was Bigware. ]

“Oh, right.”

[ ‘Oh, right,’ huh. ]

Ji-woo gave an awkward laugh, mind scrambling for a way to bring up that topic naturally.

“I’ll make sure I’m ready.”

[ Sure. I’m hanging up. ]

“Hey.”

[ Hm? ]

“…Did you get home okay yesterday?”

[ Yeah. ]

“That’s good… Why didn’t you ask if I got home okay?”

[ You’re calling me right now, aren’t you? Guess that means you did. ]

“You’re such… a capital-T Troll.”

Silence fell.

Ji-woo could tell No-eul was about to end the call.

So they blurted out:

“Hey… I’m really sorry for being such a mess the other night.”

[ I told you it’s fine. I really don’t care. ]

“No, but… even when I drink, I never act like that. You know that, right?”

[ Hm… Do you? ]

“Come on, you know I don’t! I’ve never done that before!”

[ Maybe you haven’t~. ]

“Stop joking around…”

[ Why are you so worried? I’ll just tease you about it in front of everyone. ]

“No, don’t—!”

No-eul chuckled softly.

[ Reflect on your sins. I’ll think about whether to tease you or not. ]

“…Hey, but why did you say that?”

[ Say what? ]

Ji-woo’s grip on the phone tightened.

“…When you said I’m prettier than Han-sol. Why’d you say that if you didn’t mean it?”

[ ……. ]

When No-eul didn’t answer, Ji-woo grew tense.

They quickly added,

“You just said it to shut me up, right? You knew I’d keep pestering you otherwise.”

[ It wasn’t something I didn’t mean. ]

“……”

Ji-woo froze mid-step, eyes darting around.

They should say something — anything — but words wouldn’t come.

[ I’m hanging up. ]

The call ended.

Ji-woo stayed still, not moving.

Han-sol, meanwhile, had been struggling with herself lately — fighting off a version of her that felt more childish than ever. The kind of childishness that came from feeling like you were losing a friend.

Back in elementary school, girls often hung out in small groups. Some groups had even numbers, some odd. Odd-numbered groups were less stable — more fights, more people leaving.

Because someone always got left out.

Even in close-knit circles, there were pairs — “best friends.” But in a group of three, that couldn’t happen without someone being the third wheel. So they clung to the idea that “We’re all equally close.”

But was that ever really true?

Even among friends, humans crave exclusivity. “You think of me as your closest, right? Because you’re my closest too.”

Han-sol had always hated that kind of competition. She thought fighting over friendship was stupid. So she would deliberately yield the “best friend” spot. She’d say, I’m not first. You two are closest. I’m second. That way, no one had to be jealous.

But in college, somehow, she’d found her closest friend — someone who never let anyone too close. No matter how intimate things got, there was always a few steps of distance.

That distance sometimes made Han-sol lonely, but she hid it well. If she showed it, her friend would only pull further away. And Han-sol didn’t want to be the kind of person who clung and made others uncomfortable.

Still, it comforted her to think she was the closest to that person. Even if the distance remained, no one else could cross it either. That gave her a strange sense of pride.

At least, it used to.

Lately, irritation kept bubbling up — because of No-eul and Ji-woo.

Han-sol knew she had no reason to feel jealous. Ji-woo wasn’t even in the “friend” category — she was someone No-eul liked.

And yet, when No-eul gave Ji-woo attention, irritation flared.

She told herself she wanted them to be happy, that it was right for a friend to want that. But then another thought crept in: If they’re together… then the person closest to No-eul will be Ji-woo, won’t it?

That thought burned.

Did she want to own No-eul? To be closest to her above anyone else?

Han-sol couldn’t even define what she wanted from the relationship.

And then, she overheard it:

– Who’s prettier, me or Han-sol?
– …You.

Han-sol had been awake.

She blinked up at the ceiling, lying perfectly still.

Why did her chest hurt so much?

She had always thought Ji-woo was prettier than her. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was true.

So why did hearing it sting so much?

Had she secretly wanted to be prettier than Ji-woo all along? Maybe she’d just been lying to herself — pretending she didn’t care, because facing that truth was disappointing.

But then again, she hadn’t felt sad when Ji-woo got more votes for “prettiest” during the drinking game. Back then, she’d been more annoyed at Hyun-soo, the idiot who started the game, and felt sorry for Hye-mi, who didn’t get a single vote.

So maybe it wasn’t about looks. Maybe it was that Ji-woo suddenly felt closer to No-eul — like she’d stolen the spot Han-sol thought was hers.

But that didn’t make sense either. Being prettier didn’t mean being closer.

Han-sol couldn’t figure out what this feeling was. It wasn’t exactly pain, but it wasn’t comfortable either.

Maybe, in time, she’d understand it.

For now, she just hoped her irritation wouldn’t flare up again.

With that low-grade melancholy simmering inside her, Han-sol went to meet No-eul.

It was vacation, and with nothing else to do, they had decided to grab a drink after No-eul’s class.

But when she saw her…

“Han No-eul.”

“…?”

“Why the long face?”

“……”