Chapter 8 …
“I was just about to tell you there’s ice here, but you stepped on it in the meantime. You have such delicate bones that you look like you’d shatter if you were tapped, yet you always manage to fall in such a dramatic way.”
“Despite appearances, I’m pretty sturdy, so I haven’t broken a bone much.”
“Oh? You have?”
“Who hasn’t broken a bone at least once in their life?”
“Me.”
“……”
“I’ve never broken a bone. I always wondered what it would take to actually break one, but I guess falling like this would do it.”
Jung Taeheon smirked slightly, his tone playful.
Hic.
Ha-ju, at a loss for words, twitched her lips before speaking.
“……Let go. I can hic—fix it myself.”
She pushed Taeheon’s arm away and tried to plant her feet properly. As she slipped again, he immediately steadied her with his arm.
Just as she finally managed to stand firmly…
Cr-r-rack.
A bad feeling ran under her shoes. At the same time, she heard the sound of the umbrella ribs scraping the asphalt.
Standing still, Ha-ju looked down in shock.
The umbrella was badly bent, its ribs mangled. Not even an old plastic umbrella, yet such an expensive umbrella could be this fragile?
“I—I’ll try to fix it.”
The shock seemed to sober her slightly. Ha-ju quickly picked up the umbrella to check it. She grabbed the slightly bent rib to straighten it, but at that exact moment, a hiccup threw off her grip.
Snap.
The rib broke, and the umbrella was finally completely destroyed.
“It’s ruined.”
Taeheon reported the situation in a dramatic tone, as if he were narrating despite being “cash poor.”
Ha-ju, pale and trembling, had even stopped hiccupping from shock.
“……I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back.”
“Forget it.”
“But this was expensive. It looked almost brand-new…”
Ha-ju stared at the ruined umbrella in dismay.
“Then later, you can do me a favor or something.”
“……Can that really make up for it?”
“How would I know what favor I’ll ask for?”
He spoke with a teasing grin. Ha-ju, returning to a serious expression, replied:
“So… I guess I’ll just compensate you then…”
“I’ll make it something reasonable. Just count it as even. Now, hand me the umbrella.”
Taeheon interrupted her and held out his hand. Ha-ju handed over the broken umbrella, which he carefully gathered so the jagged parts didn’t stick out, then tossed it into a trash bin at the corner of the supermarket.
“Do you have OnStar?”
“No.”
“Then give me your number.”
He held out his phone to Ha-ju.
“Why…?”
“You need a way to contact me if you’re going to do the favor.”
“……You’re not going to ask for anything weird, right?”
“Weird? What kind of weird?”
He stared at her, waiting for her response. Ha-ju didn’t know what to say, so she just blinked at him, tipsy but cautious.
As the silence stretched, his gaze, looking down at her, seemed to soften. Then he furrowed his brows slightly and looked away, running a hand through his hair with a short sigh.
“Ha… you think I’d scold a freshman? Well, I guess I’m a bit of a stickler, so maybe.”
“……”
Calling him a stickler again… she must have noticed he still held a grudge. It seemed Taeheon was the type to hold onto things.
“……Okay. I’ll trust you.”
Ha-ju wrote her number and handed the phone over. Taeheon saved her name, smirking.
Ha-ju, feeling uneasy, added:
“Don’t save it under something creepy like ‘insurance fraud’.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got updated info; I wouldn’t do that.”
He put the phone in his pocket and continued.
“From now on, only take the route you came today when going home. That path has all the CCTVs.”
So that’s why he turned back a bit—he valued his own life. Seeing how he walked with her and knew this area well, she realized he probably lived nearby too.
Ha-ju felt guilty again for breaking someone’s expensive item, even if it was someone in a similar situation.
“Okay, I’ll do that.”
“Alright, I’m leaving.”
Taeheon waved and turned down the hill. Ha-ju watched his retreating figure for a moment, then headed home.
Suddenly realizing she hadn’t thanked him, she turned back, but he was already gone. Thinking to leave a message, she reached for her phone, but felt something unusually warm in her coat pocket.
Puzzled, Ha-ju pulled out the object first—a warm, chocolate-flavored canned drink bought from the supermarket in front of her house.
“When did you even put this here?”
The warm weight rolled in her hand. It was cold outside, and her house was right in front of her. Why did he put it in her pocket instead of keeping it for himself?
“This would be so expensive if bought here. Cash-poor or not, he really does spend money freely.”
The warm drink immediately brought circulation back to her cold hands. The numbness from the freezing weather slowly faded, replaced by a slight sting.
She noticed a small cut on her finger, likely from the umbrella rib, which started to sting as well.
By the time she reached home, the once warm chocolate drink had cooled to lukewarm, tasting bland, like hot chocolate watered down.
Taeheon didn’t contact her over the weekend. Ha-ju realized she had given her number, but hadn’t received his.
Since they were in different grades and the campus was large, it seemed unlikely she’d see him again unless he contacted her first.
During a liberal arts class she had barely enrolled in to free up Thursday afternoon, she checked her phone habitually.
Friday. Still no contact from Taeheon.
Looking up, she suddenly locked eyes with a man standing there, his expression caught between surprise and concern.
“You’re not seriously following me, are you?”
“I’m not.”
They reunited during the second week of classes, after the add/drop period, in a liberal arts classroom.
