I looked down at the floor.
Inside the plastic bag, the cream bun had been crushed flat, white filling smeared and spilling through the torn bread.
“I wouldn’t take it even if you offered me gold.”
My heart did not ache.
I was not sad.
I was not angry.
[…]
Min Yu-un said nothing.
I could not see him, but in that silence, I thought I felt something faint and fleeting—something almost like tears.
But I knew exactly how petty Min Yu-un had been. How cruel.
So I could not take his side.
“I’m sorry.”
I’m not the real Min Yu-un.
An apology offered in his place might have been a lie.
I did not care.
Maybe this empty, calculated gesture would be enough to save him.
“I apologize. I was wrong. All this time.”
Even so, I hoped Min Yu-un would not be hurt any more than he already had been.
Was it sympathy?
Empathy?
Pity?
I could not tell.
My face remained as composed as ever. My heartbeat stayed steady, no different from usual. When Han Tae-ryeong saw how little I wavered, he stiffened, his lips parting in surprise.
I waited in silence for whatever came next.
“Hah.”
A cold, derisive laugh cut through the air.
“So this is how you’re trying to get my attention now?”
Han Tae-ryeong’s icy gaze drilled into me, his mouth twisting into a sneer.
“Pathetic.”
I already knew where this was going.
There was no need to hear the rest.
“Min Yu-un?”
I had done what I came to do. I had delivered the apology and the cream bun.
So I turned to leave.
“Hey, Min Yu-un!”
As I walked away, Han Tae-ryeong grabbed my wrist and spun me back around.
“I’m not finished with you.”
So what?
I looked up at him with mild curiosity. Perhaps because there was not the slightest trace of tension in my eyes, he faltered.
“I’m asking why you’re suddenly acting so different.”
[I don’t want to! I don’t want to apologize!]
Min Yu-un’s shrill protest rang through my head, and I frowned faintly.
[Yoo Si-eon stole what was mine first! Everyone left me, abandoned me, and now they…!]
“If you’re going to apologize, do it properly, Min Yu-un.”
Without a second thought, I slapped Han Tae-ryeong’s hand away.
He stared at his now-empty palm as if he had lost track of what had just happened.
“Sorry for hitting your hand away.”
I said it before he could react.
Han Tae-ryeong opened his mouth, then closed it again. No words came out.
“You grabbed me first, so I thought it was fair.”
By then, even Min Yu-un’s shouting had faded into silence.
For a long moment, Han Tae-ryeong and I simply stared at each other. The height difference between us was obvious even when I stood on my toes, but I knew better than to expect him to lower himself to my level.
“And I already apologized.”
Even if it was not Min Yu-un’s true feeling, it was still an apology given in his place.
“Sincerely.”
Or rather, with the sincere wish to get this over with.
I swallowed the words I did not say and turned my back on Han Tae-ryeong.
Quest 1: Apologize to the main characters. 2/3
★ TIP: A sweet tip for you, who have never apologized before! ★
How about offering a cream bun as proof of your sincere desire to turn over a new leaf?
A system window flashed brightly before my eyes.
*****
The moment homeroom ended, I picked up my bag and left.
I passed through the school gates and retraced the path I had taken that morning. Just before reaching my house, I stopped and looked over my shoulder.
Yoo Si-eon, who had been following me, froze in place.
“Why are you following me?”
I had noticed someone behind me a while ago. At first, I ignored it. We might simply have been going the same way.
But by now, there was no mistaking it.
He was definitely following me.
Yoo Si-eon narrowed his eyes. He recovered quickly from his surprise and walked straight up to me.
“Min Yu-un.”
[I apologized, didn’t I? So why does he still hate me?]
Min Yu-un muttered as if he truly could not understand.
I did not know whether he was naive or simply self-absorbed.
A world where one apology magically turned everyone into friends.
Perhaps that was the fantasy Min Yu-un had been living in.
As I was thinking that this quest would never fix the root of the problem, Yoo Si-eon spoke.
“What you said this morning…”
“…”
“I know you didn’t mean it. So tell me what you’re really planning.”
I rolled my eyes.
No matter how many times I considered it, there was only one answer.
“I’m not planning anything. I meant every word.”
At my calm reply, Yoo Si-eon clenched his jaw. His gaze was sharp enough to cut, and the hostility rolling off him prickled against my skin.
“You expect me to believe that crap?”
“You don’t have to. Believe whatever you want.”
With that, I turned to leave.
“Wait!”
If Yoo Si-eon had not shoved the cream bun in front of my face, I would have kept walking.
“This thing you gave me.”
His voice was low.
“It’s expired.”
*****
Yoo Si-eon stood alone on the field, watching Min Yu-un’s retreating back until he finally forced himself to move.
When he returned to the classroom, he looked around, but Min Yu-un was nowhere to be seen. Biting his lower lip, he walked to his desk.
A cream bun sat there by itself.
For a moment, he could not bring himself to sit down.
Then, carefully, he picked it up.
“He told me to follow him. I thought he was going to threaten me again, but… an apology? Seriously?”
He stared blankly ahead as Min Yu-un’s face replayed in his mind.
Eventually, his gaze dropped to the bun in his hand.
The soft bread came into focus first.
Then the black numbers stamped on the plastic wrapper.
The expiration date.
It had long since passed.
A short, bitter laugh escaped him.
“Of course.”
So that’s the game.
Does he really think I’m stupid enough to fall for it?
I’ve had enough, Min Yu-un.
There had been a time when Yoo Si-eon blamed himself, when he had drowned in misery wondering what he had done wrong.
But not anymore.
Whatever warmth he might once have felt for Min Yu-un had frozen solid long ago.
“I was a fool to expect anything else.”
That thought lingered with him after class ended.
He followed Min Yu-un, intending to confront him about the expired bread. And yet, for some reason, he could not make himself speak.
Was it because of the faint hope he still had not managed to let go?
Then Min Yu-un turned around.
His hair was black enough to rival the night sky, and his eyes were darker still.
But today, he seemed strangely faint, as though his very presence had thinned.
Something stirred in Yoo Si-eon’s chest.
That languid gaze.
That weary posture.
That indifferent air.
Everything about him felt wrong, as if the person standing there was not Min Yu-un at all.
In the end, I let Yoo Si-eon inside.
I had no idea how he had ended up with an expired bun, but I could not dismiss it as a simple mistake and send him away. I led the hesitant Yoo Si-eon to the sofa.
“Wait here a second. I’ll get you something to drink.”
Fighting the heavy fatigue urging me to collapse into bed, I kept my voice even.
Yoo Si-eon looked up at me for a moment, then shook his head.
“…No. It’s fine.”
“Then I won’t.”
Seizing the opportunity, I sat down beside him.
I still had an apology to give, but the urge to rest was becoming overwhelming. I let out a sigh that was almost a yawn before finally speaking.
“Sorry.”
Yoo Si-eon’s gaze shifted toward me at the sudden apology.
“I’ll say it again. I’m sorry.”
My voice was calm, stripped almost bare of emotion.
And yet, beneath it, there remained the faintest thread of sincerity.
Yoo Si-eon studied me with downcast eyes. His gaze felt different from this morning.
“Why did you torment me so much?”
[I told him so many times. Does he still not get it? How many times do I have to say it?]
Min Yu-un’s irritated, exhausted voice echoed through my mind, overlapping with Yoo Si-eon’s unexpected question.
[Because I was jealous.]
“…Because I was jealous.”
I took a slow breath and repeated Min Yu-un’s words exactly.
“I did it because I was jealous.”
[Everyone likes you. They all love you.]
“Everyone seemed to love you.”
[They all abandoned me. They didn’t care how lonely I was. They only cared about you.]
“I thought I had been thrown away because they loved you more. So I took it out on you.”
I understood how Min Yu-un felt.
The suffocating loneliness of being trapped in isolation.
I had spent my entire life enduring that same solitude.
Alone.
With no one to lean on.
So yes, there had been times when even I felt that sharp stab of jealousy toward people who received love so easily. I had wanted to take their place. To stand in the warmth they enjoyed as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
But I knew those desires were nothing more than selfish indulgence, so I buried them deep.
Min Yu-un was different.
He was too young.
Too immature.
He had never learned how to love, and he had never been properly loved himself.
Of course, that did not excuse what he had done.
Not in the slightest.
But maybe, just maybe, I could understand him.
A little.
After a long silence, I spoke again.
“It wasn’t your fault. I was stupid.”
“…”
“So you can go. You don’t like being around me, do you?”
As I slowly rose from the sofa, Yoo Si-eon sprang up as well, almost as if he were afraid I would leave.
“No, I…”
“I’ll replace the cream bun. Sorry about the mistake.”
“…That’s not the problem.”
I stopped mid-step and turned to meet Yoo Si-eon’s eyes.
He flinched.
“Then is there something else I need to apologize for?”