episode_0431

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The lingering heat of late summer didn’t take long to fade.

After the occasional drizzles that began on the first day of September, a few weeks passed.

Before anyone realized it, summer had retreated, and the season of cool breezes arrived.

Autumn.

A season where the air conditioner, left running for nearly four months, could finally be turned off, and a cardigan over a shirt became necessary.

Though it would still take about a month for the vibrant autumn foliage to fully color the landscape, the students’ outfits had already begun to brighten more than usual.

Even those who typically had no interest in fashion couldn’t continue dressing as they had in summer—the wind had grown far too chilly.

And just then, one such fashion-indifferent student whined listlessly to the flashy girl sitting behind her.

“I don’t wanna practice…”

“You think I’m doing this because I like it? My muscles are all stiff—I hate it too.”

“But Da-bin, you’re at least good at this…”

“No, I’m not. I’m just average.”

“Ugh…”

Second year, second semester.

Though there was still over a year left before graduation from the academy, this wasn’t the time to laze around like a grasshopper.

Students who stood out had already caught the attention of various agencies since their first year, and the second year was, in many ways, a period where “supplementary acceptance” held meaning.

If one reached the third year without a single offer, troublesome situations would inevitably arise.

In that sense, Lee Ha-yoon and Seol Da-bin were in a much better position than most, but that didn’t mean they could afford to idle while others were busy practicing.

Lee Ha-yoon, who had just pulled out her long-sleeved gym uniform after a long time, clung to Seol Da-bin’s arm like a deflated balloon as they trudged toward the training hall.

Because.

She still didn’t know what had happened between Seol Da-bin and Seo Woo-jin.

Last night.

The night before that.

Five nights ago.

A week ago.

She didn’t know what kind of moans Seol Da-bin had let out under him after receiving his call.

She didn’t know.

Because Seol Da-bin and Seo Woo-jin both intended to take this secret to their graves—away from their respective partners.

And so, as the two girls went about their usual routine—

– Ding-dong. Ding-dong.

“Hello? Ma’am? Sir?”

The doorbell at Seol Da-bin’s house, usually empty during weekday afternoons, rang twice.

A sigh laden with thoughts followed.

– Beep, beep-beep. Beep.

As if she had been coming and going for years,

the sound of someone slowly inputting the door lock password echoed.

431

Every house has its own distinct scent.

Some smell of spices.

Others carry the warm, woody aroma of timber.

And some—though it’s a bit rude to say—reek of musty mold or the stale air of a lonely bachelor.

In that sense, Seol Da-bin’s house often carried a faint fruity fragrance.

It wasn’t as if the house itself emitted such a scent, nor was it likely from a person’s body.

Perhaps the cleaners were just diligent—that was the only plausible explanation.

“…I’m sorry for coming in uninvited. …Really, I’m sorry.”

A quiet house, empty of people.

Baek Ji-ho, who had briefly returned home to Ilsan after weeks away, muttered an apology no one would hear as she took off her shoes.

They used to be next-door neighbors. Their parents were extremely close, and as children, they would come and go as if it were their own home—but those were stories of the past.

None of that mattered now.

Objectively speaking, this was nothing short of Baek Ji-ho exploiting the homeowner’s absence to break in.

Of course, if the parents had been home, she could’ve just said she stopped by to say hello while briefly back in Ilsan.

But regardless, the pang of guilt was unavoidable.

…This act right now.

It was all to dispel her own suspicions.

For all she knew, it might just be her own delusions—though she was half-convinced otherwise.

Baek Ji-ho whispered another apology into the air before stepping forward.

Naturally, she wasn’t here to steal.

Nor was this some ridiculous excuse like needing to borrow the bathroom urgently.

There was only one reason she had come here.

Moving with practiced steps to avoid disturbing the lower floor,

Baek Ji-ho arrived at none other than—

Seol Da-bin’s room.

“Haa…”

A warning sign at eye level read, “Knock First.”

Back in elementary and middle school, when she used to visit often, there had been nothing like this.

Seol Da-bin must’ve written and stuck it there herself as she grew older.

Remembering something she’d seen in a comic, she checked around the doorknob, but of course, there were no anti-intruder measures.

With no CCTV either, as long as she left no traces, no one would ever know about today’s actions.

Exhaling a tense breath, Baek Ji-ho swallowed dryly and turned the knob.

Fortunately, it turned smoothly without any resistance.

She had briefly worried that Seol Da-bin might lock her room out of habit, but that seemed unnecessary.

Like fretting over how to fight off an alien invasion—utterly pointless.

Holding her breath, she pushed the door open.

Inside was a room resembling the storage space in her own house—unsurprising, given the nearly identical layout.

But she wasn’t here to admire the interior.

Baek Ji-ho had come for one reason only.

“…It really is here.”

The teddy bear she had gifted Seol Da-bin.

To retrieve the recorder hidden inside it.

Lifting the bear from its place on the bedside shelf, Baek Ji-ho carefully examined the stitched seams.

Running her fingers along them, she found a section where the stitching was noticeably looser.

This must’ve been where she had hastily stuffed the recorder and spare battery.

She scraped at it with her short nails, but it didn’t give way easily.

First, she placed the replacement bear she had brought in its spot.

Since she had bought both from the same place, they were nearly identical twins, save for minor details.

And since it had only been about two weeks since the gift, Seol Da-bin wouldn’t have grown familiar enough with it to notice the swap.

Now, the only concerns were whether the recording had captured anything clearly amidst the stuffing—

and what if, contrary to her suspicions, nothing had happened during those two weeks in Ilsan…

But remembering how Da-bin had been moaning and masturbating feverishly through the wall up until the night before leaving for Ilsan…

Hmm…

“…….”

…First, let’s just check in my room.

With that, Baek Ji-ho took the bear and left, ensuring everything was perfectly tidied before returning home.

Was it fortunate?

The recording contained no sounds of Seol Da-bin doing anything questionable with another man.

Just her calling for her mom as if looking for something.

The click of a door closing.

Humming a tune.

An adorable sneeze, likely from an itchy nose.

Talking on the phone with a friend.

The sound of a YouTube video playing through speakers, probably because earbuds were bothersome.

The noisy whir of a hairdryer.

And, well.

The constant sound of her masturbating.

At least once a day.

Sometimes up to three or four times, even past midnight.

And it wasn’t just restrained moans and grunts.

– You fcking… Seo Woo… jin…. …Don’t, shove it in like a damn… animal…

Not Baek Ji-ho’s name.

But the name of a man she knew well—cursed between moans.

Compared to what she had overheard through the wall, this was…

Far more explicit.

In total, over the two weeks, there were just slightly more than thirty instances of masturbation sounds.

“No, no, this drama is seriously good! It’s a bit old, but it was so popular when I was in Japan!”

“Your tastes and mine are different, so I’m not watching it. Stop bothering me and come out. The screen’s blocked—I can’t see.”

“How do you even know my tastes? At most, you just know what I like during sex, you—”

“Stop being difficult and come out. Yo-zora, you only like stuff with some kind of emotional payoff, right?”

“…Isn’t that just normal taste? You don’t like that stuff?”

“I don’t mind if it’s moderate, but forced melodrama just makes me cringe.”

“Ugh… You sound like an old man… What’s wrong with emotional stuff…”

“Anyway, there’s a lot of dramas lately about people getting framed and ending up in prison. I’d rather watch that. Revenge, stuff like that.”

“That’s not just lately—there’s always been tons. I can think of at least ten off the top of my head… I’d rather…”

Two hours ago, she had abruptly called me out under the pretense of “Praise Yo-zora for Working Hard Day,” and we ended up tangled together.

After filling her tiny womb to the point of overflow, we settled on the couch, where Yo-zora, draped in nothing but a soft knit, rested her head on my thigh.

Back when we lived at the hideout, we used to bicker like this all the time.

Back then, it was annoying, but now it all felt like nostalgia—so I idly played with Yo-zora’s pale, soft breasts.

As she squirmed under my touch, she slithered down between my legs, as if planning revenge with a blowjob.

Then, suddenly.

A message notification chimed from my phone.

I was sure I had set all known contacts to vibrate-only.

Who could be messaging me now?

Pressing Yo-zora’s head down as she licked at the tip, I picked up the phone.

[Baek Ji-ho]

– Hello, sir.

– I think this is the first time I’ve contacted you like this since the double date during break.

– I’m sorry for the sudden message, but could we meet briefly?

Of all people, Baek Ji-ho.

The content…

[Baek Ji-ho]

– There’s something I’d like to ask you about Da-bin.

– Ah, please keep this from Da-bin.

…Well.

This situation seems.

A bit tangled.