Ch.8484. Empathy

That wasn’t what I meant.

I never intended for Suhyeok to distance himself from me.

Anger bloomed on Juyeon’s face.

Suhyeok couldn’t hide his surprise at seeing this side of Juyeon for the first time.

“…I was just trying to look out for you.”

Her voice still trembled.

Nevertheless, Juyeon was laying bare her true feelings.

“I thought hard about what would be best for you…”

“I didn’t say it because I wanted to hear that kind of response…”

“I just wanted you to…!”

Juyeon’s small hand firmly grasped the hem of Suhyeok’s t-shirt.

“Juyeon…?”

Juyeon’s head gradually drooped lifelessly.

“Suhyeok.”

“Yeah?”

“…It’s okay to ignore what I said.”

Juyeon disliked forcing things.

She was someone who hated both forcing others and being forced herself.

And Suhyeok was probably the same.

“So from now on, just keep being honest with me about whatever happens.”

Instead of answering, Suhyeok nodded.

He wanted to spare his words due to his confused emotions.

“I should go now. Juyeon.”

Since his business was finished anyway, there was no reason for Suhyeok to stay in Juyeon’s room.

“…Okay. Go ahead.”

“Thanks for the song.”

It was just as Suhyeok, wearing slippers, grabbed the doorknob.

“…You’ll still contact me today, right?”

Why did his not-so-broad back look so cold?

Juyeon was afraid.

What if Suhyeok changed once he walked through that door?

What if he started disliking her because of her careless words?

“…Yeah.”

As if trying to ease Juyeon’s anxiety, Suhyeok forced the corners of his mouth to turn upward.

“See you later, Juyeon.”

His silhouette gradually disappeared through the doorway.

* * *

When classes ended, Seo-eun headed to the club room after a long time.

With exam period in full swing, there had been no practice sessions or time to hang out, so she hadn’t had a chance to visit.

-Click

As the door opened, she saw the 23rd generation’s vocalist sitting on the sofa with a troubled expression, clutching her phone.

It was Juyeon.

“Juyeon!”

Happy to see her after so long, Seo-eun hugged her.

Juyeon accepted her embrace without resistance.

“Did our Juyeon miss her unnie?”

“…Yeah.”

A listless voice.

It was extremely rare for Juyeon to respond like this.

No, even before that, the instances where Juyeon sought out Seo-eun first could be counted on one hand.

“Did something happen, Juyeon?”

“Unnie.”

Her tone clearly said, “I need help right now.”

Juyeon rested her head on Seo-eun’s shoulder.

“Yes. Talk to me.”

“When you give advice…”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever regret it afterward?”

Seo-eun’s mind worked quickly to assess the situation.

First of all, the word “advice” wasn’t vocabulary that aligned with Juyeon.

The number of people she might advise was extremely limited.

Considering Juyeon’s personality, the probability of her offering advice first seemed low, but…

“Hmm… sometimes, yes?”

“Then what do you do?”

“Well, it really depends on who it was and what the content was.”

She was asking for more information.

“I gave advice after thinking really hard about it, but that person’s reaction wasn’t great.”

“Well, I need to know what you said to—”

“Relationship advice.”

Juyeon cut off Seo-eun’s words.

That was the upper limit of what Juyeon was willing to say.

Revealing any more would be disrespectful to Suhyeok.

Meanwhile, a short exclamation escaped Seo-eun’s lips.

“Oh… you gave someone relationship advice?”

“…It just happened? No, actually, I kind of just said it one-sidedly.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“That person’s reaction was worse than I expected.”

Juyeon seemed unwilling to provide any more context for understanding the situation.

Yet to give proper advice, one needed to look deeper into the story.

Seo-eun clicked her tongue in disappointment.

“That can definitely happen. Maybe what you said wasn’t appealing from that person’s perspective.”

It was an obvious statement, but hearing it from someone else made Juyeon’s stomach churn.

“…Yeah. I guess so.”

“Advice isn’t a big problem as long as there’s no forcing involved.”

Anyone could offer opinions as long as they weren’t imposing them.

Generally, problems arise when someone pushes their ideas too forcefully or gets upset when their thoughts aren’t accepted.

Seo-eun didn’t think Juyeon would have done that.

“Juyeon, you didn’t come on too strong, did you?”

“…No. It’s not that, but that person made it sound like they won’t share their concerns with me anymore.”

“Hmm… so you feel hurt by that?”

“I think so.”

What Juyeon feared and disliked:

That was Suhyeok no longer seeking her out.

Him no longer sharing his secrets with her.

Him no longer being able to be honest with her.

The more Seo-eun listened, the more curious she became about the protagonist in Juyeon’s story.

Could it be a guy?

And if it’s a guy Juyeon is close to…

The pool of likely candidates narrowed significantly.

“Juyeon.”

“Yes?”

“Actually, there’s no real reason to feel so hurt about this.”

Juyeon bit her lip slightly.

“The person who shares their worries. The person who listens to those worries.”

“Between the two, the latter bears the greater burden.”

“Unless it’s paid consulting, listening to someone’s concerns is labor without guaranteed compensation.”

Seo-eun continued while stroking Juyeon’s hair.

“It’s an interaction that happens purely out of goodwill.”

“Even if my advice helps solve that person’s problem, my life doesn’t change dramatically.”

“What changes is that person’s life. Not mine.”

Listening to this, Juyeon started to feel oddly self-conscious.

“…So you’ve been seeing us that way all along, Unnie.”

Hearing the club president, who had been the 23rd generation’s official counselor, speak like this made Juyeon naturally feel like she had been a nuisance.

“Ahaha. That’s not it.”

Seo-eun stretched Juyeon’s cheeks as if to say she shouldn’t even think that way.

“Want me to explain why?”

“Why is that?”

“Because I really like you all.”

At her answer, Juyeon’s eyes trembled.

“The reason it feels good when you rely on me is because I care about you that much.”

Seo-eun couldn’t help but notice her agitation.

It was time to press further.

“Juyeon.”

“Yes…?”

“Do you like that person that much?”

A trap meticulously set under the name of advice.

Juyeon couldn’t handle the resourceful Seo-eun.

From the start, this was a game she couldn’t win.

“I think… so… maybe…”

Just as Seo-eun thought she had caught her prey.

As if struck by lightning, Juyeon shuddered and abruptly stood up from the sofa.

“Oh, Unnie!”

“Yes?”

“I just remembered I have something urgent to take care of!”

“All of a sudden?”

“Um… that… I have a final paper due at 4 o’clock that I need to submit!”

It was an obvious lie to anyone watching.

But Seo-eun decided to let it slide.

“I see. You’d better hurry then.”

“Y-yes! Sorry, Unnie. For calling you here and then leaving like this.”

“No, no. Grades come first. But tell me how it goes next time.”

Seo-eun still had something to confirm.

“…Okay.”

“I’d like it if Juyeon kept coming to me for advice too.”

An unspoken pressure: if you don’t come, I’ll feel hurt just like you do.

Recognizing this context, Juyeon felt scared but grabbed the doorknob anyway.

“Yes. I’ll definitely talk to you again.”

“Good luck with your remaining exams, Juyeon~”

“…You too, Unnie.”

Juyeon, who had hastily escaped the club room, walked quickly toward home.

Seo-eun’s words echoed in her mind.

Do you like that person that much?

Do you like that person that much?

Do you like that person that much?

Do you like that person that much?

Is that it?

Was that it?

I… Suhyeok…

Like…

Juyeon’s hand quickly touched her rapidly beating heart.

If the body doesn’t lie, then this reaction was undeniable evidence.

Her mind went blank.

Juyeon, who had stopped abruptly on the street, looked up at the midday sun beating down.

She recalled Suhyeok’s face as he struggled with his unrequited love, pouring out his anguish.

His face as he downed glass after glass of alcohol, saying it was too painful.

His words suggesting that remaining friends would be better.

When did unrequited love become as contagious as a cold?

Juyeon ran both hands over her face.

There was still so much she didn’t know.

The unknown emotion that she thought she would never understand had suddenly appeared right in front of her.

…So this is how you felt, Suhyeok.

Her closed eyes slowly opened.

This was the world Suhyeok had been seeing.

Her heart felt empty, as if someone had punched a hole in her chest.

The dull pain showed no signs of subsiding.

To have feelings for someone who has an unrequited love for someone else.

So this is how terrible it feels.

Suhyeok.