Chapter 33. Stubbornness and Sadness

“Taeseong…”

“Noona, don’t get up. They said you hurt your ribs.”

Taeseong gently supported Minju by her arms.

Minju leaned into him, letting herself go limp—then suddenly collapsed into his embrace.

“…Noona.”

“I was… scared.”

Her voice trembled, and Taeseong lightly patted her back.

“What about Auntie and Uncle?”

“They’re on their way. I guess they contacted you because I left the message window open while I kept trying to reach them.”

Minju’s explanation sparked a question in Taeseong’s mind.

She had texted him to meet long before the accident had happened.

So why had she kept the message window open for so long?

Just as doubt deepened, Minju spoke again.

“Honestly, I was a little hurt.”

“Huh?”

Taeseong gently pulled her out of his arms and asked.

“That you chose to meet Haeyoung instead of me.”

“……”

“I wanted to see you as soon as I got back from the U.S., that’s why I reached out.”

“Noona…”

His voice quivered slightly with confusion. Sensing this, Minju took a small step back.

“You’ll stay with me until my parents come, right?”

“…Yeah.”

She realized now wasn’t the time to push.

Taeseong wasn’t the same as before—when he only liked her.

She’d have to take it slow, and bit by bit… steal him back from Cha Haeyoung.

Meanwhile…

As Gijun stepped out of the hospital, his phone rang.

“Hello?”

[Sorry, Gijun. I feel bad asking you this on a rainy weekend…]

It was his academic advisor, to whom he had just delivered some documents.

With a soft smile, Gijun resumed walking.

“It’s no problem, Professor. It wasn’t a big deal.”

He politely ended the call, exchanging the usual well-wishes.

Because the professor had been hospitalized unexpectedly, Gijun had stepped in to deliver documents originally meant for a teaching assistant. Since Gijun had a car and Haeyoung’s tutoring had been canceled, he had willingly accepted.

He muttered to himself on the way to the parking lot.

“Guess I’ll just sleep today.”

Something about not tutoring Haeyoung left an odd emptiness in him.

He couldn’t even remember what he used to do on weekends before tutoring her.

“I’m sorry, oppa. I’m supposed to practice basketball with Taeseong this weekend—for our P.E. performance test.”

When she said that, he had wanted to argue—wasn’t math more important?

For a high school senior about to take the college entrance exam, wasn’t math more critical than P.E.?

But he couldn’t say it.

Because he already knew: to Haeyoung, what mattered more than basketball… was Joo Taeseong.

“Then let’s do a makeup session next week during the week.”

Her feelings were too obvious for him to pretend not to see them.

“But the person you like… already has an old first love.”

“I always thought we were just friends. Of course, he… confessed…”

Gijun had always known about Taeseong’s long-standing crush. He never cared.

But he was worried about Haeyoung, who seemed determined to break through that deep-rooted love.

She was like a little sister to him. He didn’t want her to get hurt.

He just hoped her feelings for Taeseong would fade gently… like a passing fever.

But then—

“Joo Taeseong?”

What’s he doing at this hospital now… when he’s supposed to be with Haeyoung?

“Excuse me, where’s the emergency room?”

With a face like he’d completely forgotten his plans with her.

The unexpected rain poured longer and harder than expected.

Haeyoung, drenched, continued to dribble the basketball alone. Shot after shot—none made it in.

Each time she missed, she’d fetch the ball and shoot again.

As if proving she didn’t need anyone to learn.

“I swear, I’m getting at least one shot in today.”

She knew it was stubbornness and self-pity.

But she couldn’t bring herself to go home.

Better to exhaust her body than nurse a wounded heart.

Eventually, she realized she wasn’t mad at Taeseong for breaking his promise—she was mad at herself for liking him.

Stupid Cha Haeyoung.

Pathetic Cha Haeyoung.

Still, some part of her desperately hoped he’d come—even if late.

Thunk.

The ball hit the rim and bounced off, splashing through a puddle.

As she watched it roll away, her vision blurred.

“Ah—”

A weak groan escaped her lips.

As she stepped toward the ball, she faltered.

“Dizzy…”

She pressed her hand to her temple and bowed her head.

She could feel her body burning up. Still, she pushed forward.

No more practice—she couldn’t continue.

“I need… to go home.”

Enough waiting.

Wiping rain from her eyes, Haeyoung trudged toward the ball.

She crouched, picked it up, and tried to stand.

“Ah—”

But the fever had risen. The world spun. Her legs gave out.

“Haeyoung!”

Someone caught her from behind.

Through hazy vision, a familiar face appeared.

“Gijun… oppa?”

He held a large umbrella. Not a single drop of rain touched her now.

But tears still streamed down her face.

Holding her firmly, Gijun asked with anger in his voice:

“What are you doing here?”

“Taeseong… was late.”

“If he’s late, you go home. Why wait in the rain?”

His voice trembled with suppressed fury.

“Because I hoped… he’d come.”

“……”

“Even if he was late, I wanted him to come…”

But she couldn’t finish.

Haeyoung lost consciousness in his arms.

Taeseong rushed out of the hospital and jumped into a taxi.

After staying with Minju while waiting for her parents, he finally remembered his promise to Haeyoung—and the unsent message.

Panicking, he pulled out his phone—but it was dead.

He tried to go to the convenience store to charge it, but Minju stopped him.

“Noona, I need to tell Haeyoung I can’t come. Just a quick trip to the store—”

“Taeseong, I don’t want to be alone.”

“Noona—”

“She probably went home already. It was pouring outside…”

“……”

“Still, just in case—”

Thankfully, her parents arrived before the conversation ended.

Taeseong immediately left and hailed a taxi.

He gave up on charging his phone—getting to Haeyoung was more important.

“Driver, please go a bit faster.”

Heading to the park, Taeseong pleaded.

But the driver replied in his usual slow tone:

“Ah, the traffic’s heavier than usual today because of the rain.”

“Haa…”

Frustrated, Taeseong ran a hand through his hair and slumped in his seat.

He was heading to the park, but honestly, he hoped she wasn’t there.

He wished she’d gone home, angry but dry—better that than being sick.

By the time they reached the park, the rain had stopped and the sky turned blue.

He jumped out at the entrance and sprinted to the court.

Panting, he sighed with relief.

“Ha… thank God.”

Because Cha Haeyoung wasn’t there.

Hands on his thighs, he bent over and exhaled.

Now that his mind was clearing, it made sense—of course she wouldn’t have waited in the rain.

She wasn’t crazy.

She wouldn’t wait for him in the pouring rain.

“Crazy bastard.”

As his breath returned and his head cleared, the truth dawned on him.

Maybe thinking she’d wait for him wasn’t a feeling—it was a selfish, delusional hope.

“Selfish jerk.”

He stood up, closed his eyes, and cursed himself.

“Showing up late and expecting someone to wait—what kind of crazy mindset is that?”

He ruffled his hair in frustration.

It felt like something sharp was growing inside his heart.

It bothered him. It scared him.

It made him uncomfortable.

That sharp thing was the realization that… he had expectations for Cha Haeyoung.

He didn’t want her meeting Gijun. He didn’t want her hurt.

And now he’d even wished she waited for him in the rain.

Suddenly, he was afraid—

Afraid of how much more he might start to expect from her.

Taeseong rushed home and went straight to the second floor.

He stopped in front of Haeyoung’s room.

Knock knock.

He knocked, but there was no response.

“Cha Haeyoung.”

Knock knock.

He called again.

“Are you in there?”

Still no answer.

“I’m sorry for not keeping my promise. I had a reason—”

Before he could finish, footsteps approached, and the door flung open.

Taeseong’s face lit up—then immediately darkened.

Because the one stepping out of Haeyoung’s room…

…was Gijun.