The school gate at 6 AM was a scene of controlled chaos, bathed in the pale, cool light of dawn. Students milled around, dragging suitcases and duffel bags, their voices a mix of sleepy mumbles and excited chatter.
Haneul spotted Ji-won immediately. He was standing a little apart from the main group, his posture as rigid as his suitcase. Haneul, buzzing with enough energy to power the entire school, bounded over and threw his arms around him in a tight, spontaneous hug.
"Jiwon-ssi! We're really going!"
Ji-won stiffened, his arms pinned to his sides. Public displays of affection were a language he didn't speak. Over Haneul's shoulder, he saw Min-seo watching them with a knowing, raised eyebrow.
Haneul, blissfully unaware, then turned and gave Min-seo an equally enthusiastic hug. "Min-seo-ya! This is going to be the best trip ever!"
Doyun stood nearby, trying to look casual, his own arms slightly open in hopeful anticipation. But before Haneul could move toward him, Ji-won reached out and gently caught Haneul's sleeve.
"Haneul," he said, his voice low. "Did you remember to pack extra charcoal? The humidity in Jeju can affect its quality."
It was a flimsy excuse, but it worked. Haneul's attention snapped back to him. "Oh! I think I did! Let me check!" He started rumptaging through his bag, the missed hug with Doyun completely forgotten. Doyun's shoulders slumped, and he shot a glare at Ji-won, who met his gaze with a blank, innocent look.
Soon, the teachers did a headcount, and they were off, piling onto a bus that would take them to the airport.
The airport was a new world of wonder. Min-seo was in her element, phone held out like a documentary filmmaker. "And here we have the rare and elusive Art Club, migrating to their natural breeding grounds!" she narrated, zooming in on Haneul's dazzled face as he stared up at the departure boards.
Amidst the general excitement, Haneul noticed Ji-won had gone quiet again. His knuckles were white where he gripped his suitcase handle, and his eyes scanned the bustling terminal with a barely concealed tension. The argument with his mother and the overwhelming sensory input were clearly taking their toll.
Haneul gently slipped his hand into Ji-won's, lacing their fingers together. Ji-won flinched for a second, then his grip tightened almost desperately.
"Hey," Haneul whispered, leaning close so only he could hear. "It's okay. Everything is going to be alright. We're together."
Ji-won looked down at their joined hands, then at Haneul's reassuring smile. He took a slow, deep breath, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. For the first time since leaving his apartment, he felt a sense of anchor in the storm. He was nervous, but he wasn't alone.
The airplane cabin hummed with the low roar of engines and the soft chatter of excited students. The seating arrangement, however, was a source of great frustration for Park Doyun. Haneul was nestled happily by the window, with Min-seo in the middle seat, leaving Doyun stuck on the aisle. Directly behind Haneul, in the window seat of the next row, was Ji-won, already immersed in a book, a picture of infuriating calm.
Doyun stewed for the first twenty minutes of the flight. He watched the back of Haneul's head, saw him point something out on the wing to Min-seo, and heard his bright laugh. It was all too much. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned over the back of his seat, his face inches from Ji-won's.
"Hey," Doyun hissed, his voice low so the teachers wouldn't hear.
Ji-won didn't look up from his book. He slowly turned a page.
"I'm talking to you," Doyun pressed, his annoyance growing. "I meant what I said. Stay away from Haneul. He doesn't need your… your gloom bringing him down. He's too good for you."
Ji-won's eyes continued to scan the page. It was as if Doyun were a mildly irritating fly. He offered no reaction, no retort, nothing. The absolute lack of engagement was more insulting than any insult could be.
Doyun's jaw tightened. "Are you even listening? Or are you just as empty-headed as you look?"
Finally, Ji-won lifted his gaze. His eyes, cold and flat, met Doyun's furious ones. He held the stare for three long seconds, his expression utterly unreadable. Then, without a single word, he looked back down at his book and resumed reading.
The dismissal was absolute. Doyun was left leaning over the seat, fuming and utterly ignored. He slumped back into his chair with a frustrated grunt, crossing his arms tightly. He had tried to pick a fight, but you can't fight a brick wall. Ji-won's silent, impenetrable indifference was a fortress Doyun had no idea how to breach, and it was driving him insane.
The humid, salt-kissed air of Jeju was a welcome change as they tumbled out of the airport. The excitement was palpable, a tangible energy that crackled in the tropical breeze. Soon, a large tour bus pulled up to whisk them to their guesthouse.
As the students surged forward, a familiar dance began. Doyun, seeing his chance, made a beeline for the seat next to Haneul, who was already halfway down the aisle.
But Ji-won, moving with a quiet, deliberate speed, subtly stepped into the space Doyun was aiming for, effectively blocking his path. He didn't look at Doyun; he simply stopped to "adjust" the strap of his backpack, his body a silent, immovable barrier.
In that split-second delay, Min-seo, camera already rolling, slid into the coveted seat next to Haneul with a triumphant grin. "Shotgun with the sunshine!" she declared.
Doyun stared, thwarted. He glared at the back of Ji-won's head, who was now calmly proceeding to take the seat directly in front of Haneul and Min-seo, as if his actions had been completely innocent.
Fuming, Doyun had no choice but to retreat to the back of the bus with his basketball friends, slumping into a seat with a scowl.
As the bus pulled away, the mood lifted. Someone started singing a popular trot song, and soon the entire bus, art students and athletes alike, joined in, their voices loud and joyful. Haneul was singing at the top of his lungs, Min-seo was recording the chaotic choir, and even the teachers were smiling.
In the front seat, Ji-won didn't sing. He stared out the window at the passing palm trees and volcanic landscapes, a world away from his grey city. But the corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he listened to Haneul's off-key but enthusiastic voice right behind him. He had successfully navigated the first small battle, and for now, surrounded by song and on the way to the sea, he allowed himself a moment of quiet, victorious peace.
The guesthouse was a charming, rustic building nestled just a stone's throw from the beach, the sound of waves a constant, soothing backdrop. As the art teacher, Kang Hyuk, stood with a clipboard and a set of keys, the final, most crucial logistics were being decided: room assignments.
"We have ten rooms for fourteen of us," he announced. "Girls, you'll have your own rooms. Teachers will share one. That leaves the rest of you to pair up."
Before anyone could even process the information, Haneul's hand shot into the air. "I'll share with Jiwon-ssi!" he declared, his voice a little too bright and fast.
All eyes turned to him. He blushed but stood his ground, offering a perfectly logical, flimsy excuse. "We have to work on our contest piece! It just makes sense! We can brainstorm at night! Right, Jiwon-ssi?"
Ji-won, who had been staring intently at a seashell on the ground, gave a single, curt nod. "It is the most efficient arrangement."
It was delivered with such finality and cold logic that no one, not even the teacher, could argue. The decision was made.
The girls were assigned their rooms. The two other art students paired up. Doyun was lumped in with his basketball teammate, a burly boy named Seo-jun who was already talking about taking both beds.
Doyun stood frozen, his suitcase handle gripped so tightly his knuckles were white. He watched as Haneul happily took the key from the teacher, beaming at Ji-won as if they'd just won the lottery. A hot wave of jealousy, so potent it felt like sickness, washed over him. He wasn't just sharing a room with a teammate; he was being shut out. While he was stuck listening to Seo-jun snore, Haneul and Ji-won would be just a wall away, in their own private world. The unfairness of it was a physical ache in his chest.
The moment the bedroom door clicked shut, the careful composure they'd maintained in public vanished. They were alone. The room was simple and clean, with two single beds pushed against opposite walls.
Haneul dropped his suitcase with a thud, his excitement finally exploding. With a gleeful laugh, he launched himself at Ji-won, who had just begun to unzip his own meticulously packed bag.
"We're here!" Haneul cheered, wrapping his arms and legs around Ji-won in a koala-like hug.
The force sent them both tumbling backward onto the nearest single bed. They landed in a heap, Ji-won flat on his back with a soft "oof," and Haneul sprawled on top of him, still giggling.
"Haneul—" Ji-won started, his voice breathless, but he was cut off.
Haneul nuzzled his face into Ji-won's neck, squeezing him tighter. "I'm so happy," he murmured, his voice muffled against Ji-won's skin. "We can cuddle all night. No one will know."
The words, whispered so innocently, sent a jolt of heat straight through Ji-won. His arms, which had been frozen at his sides, slowly came up to circle Haneul's back. Cuddle all night. The image flooded his mind—Haneul's warm weight beside him in the dark, their limbs tangled together, the sound of his breathing. A deep, crimson blush spread from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. He was grateful Haneul couldn't see his face.
He could feel the steady, happy beat of Haneul's heart against his own chest, which was currently hammering a frantic, exhilarated rhythm. In this small room, on this narrow bed, with the boy he loved in his arms, the world finally felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.
Haneul stirred, stretching like a cat in a patch of sun. He blinked the sleep from his eyes, the unfamiliar ceiling of the guesthouse room coming into focus. The space beside him on the bed was empty, but still warm. He sat up and looked around.
His suitcase was gone. His eyes drifted to the small wooden cupboard in the corner. He shuffled over and pulled the doors open.
His breath caught. Inside, his clothes—which he'd thrown into his bag in a chaotic jumble—were now neatly folded and organized. His t-shirts were in one stack, his pants in another, and even his socks were rolled into perfect little balls. A faint, familiar scent of clean laundry and something uniquely Ji-won clung to the fabric.
A deep blush warmed Haneul's cheeks. He unpacked for me.
Rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes, a giddy smile spread across his face. He hurriedly got ready and bounded downstairs to the common area where lunch was being served.
He spotted Min-seo sitting at a long table and plopped down beside her, his tray clattering. "Where is everyone?" he asked, his eyes already scanning the room for a certain someone.
"Planning," Min-seo said, gesturing with her spoon to a huddle of students and teachers at another table. "Since it's too chilly for swimming, they're figuring out what to do this afternoon. Your roommate is over there, being all logical and helpful, of course."
Haneul's gaze found Ji-won immediately. He was standing slightly apart from the main group, but when the art teacher asked for input, Ji-won offered a quiet suggestion that made the teacher nod in agreement.
Just then, Ji-won glanced over and their eyes met. Haneul's smile widened impossibly, and he gave a tiny, enthusiastic wave. Ji-won's expression didn't change, but he gave a nearly imperceptible nod before turning back to the conversation.
"Ugh, the tension," Min-seo fake-gagged, rolling her eyes. "It's so thick you could paint with it. So? How's the 'efficient arrangement' going?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
Haneul's blush returned full force. He poked at his food, trying to hide his grin. "It's... very efficient," he mumbled, the memory of neatly folded clothes and a warm, shared bed making his heart flutter.
The afternoon on the beach was a perfect split-screen of activity. The art students had settled on a rocky outcrop that offered a stunning view of the churning, grey-green sea, sketchbooks open on their laps. The basketball players, having found a weathered volleyball net, were engaged in a loud, energetic game.
Haneul was curled up close to Ji-won, his private sketchbook open. He wasn't sketching the landscape; he was making quick, secret studies of Ji-won's profile as he focused on shading the dramatic clouds. The world was reduced to the sound of waves and the soft scratch of Ji-won's pencil.
THWACK!
A stray volleyball flew from the court and landed with a soft thud right next to Min-seo, spraying sand over her sketchbook.
She jerked her head up, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as she identified the culprit—Doyun's team. "HEY! Watch it, you oafs! There are artists at work here!" she yelled, shaking her charcoal at them.
The players laughed, offering apologetic waves. It was clearly an accident. The moment settled.
Then, Doyun, his eyes flicking from a smiling Haneul to a focused Ji-won, felt a spike of petty irritation. He served the next ball with a little too much force and a little too much aim. It sailed over the net and smacked Min-seo square on the back of her head.
There was a moment of dead silence.
Min-seo slowly put her charcoal down. She stood up, brushing the sand from her pants. Her expression was terrifyingly calm.
"That," she said, her voice low and deadly, "was on purpose."
She spotted a stray, fairly substantial piece of driftwood nearby. In one fluid motion, she snatched it up.
"YOU'RE DEAD, DOYUN!" she shrieked, launching herself off the rocks and charging toward the volleyball court like a vengeful Valkyrie.
The scene erupted into chaos. The other art students howled with laughter, pulling out their phones to record. The basketball players scattered, yelling and laughing as Min-seo chased a frantically backpedaling Doyun down the beach, swinging the stick with impressive fervor.
Haneul was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes, clutching his stomach. Ji-won watched the spectacle, his usual stoicism broken by a genuine, amused smile. In the middle of the beautiful, serene landscape, their chaotic, wonderful friendship was playing out in its most perfect form.
The chaotic chase finally ended with a winded Doyun surrendering, promising Min-seo a week's worth of bubble tea. As the laughter died down, one of Doyun's teammates, Seo-jun, called out to the artists on the rocks.
"Hey! You guys can't just sit there all day! Art vs. Sports! Come on, a real match!"
The art students looked at each other, hesitant. But Haneul's eyes lit up. "Yeah! Let's do it!" He jumped to his feet, dusting sand off his pants. "We can take them!"
This was met with a chorus of protests from his fellow artists. "Haneul, they'll destroy us!" one cried.
But Haneul was already pulling a giggling Min-seo to her feet. "We have spirit! And... and tactics!"
Ji-won remained seated, a small, knowing smile on his face. He had no intention of participating in such an illogical, chaotic endeavor. Instead, he pulled out his phone, opened the camera, and focused it squarely on Haneul.
"Jiwon-ssi, aren't you playing?" Haneul asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"It is more efficient to document your inevitable defeat for posterity," Ji-won replied, his voice flat, though his eyes were smiling.
"Hey! We're not going to lose!" Haneul pouted, before turning to his ragtag team. "Okay, team! Positions!"
The match began, and it was every bit the disaster the art students had predicted. They were hopeless. Min-seo tried to spike the ball with the force of her rage but mostly just whiffed. Another student tripped over his own feet. The basketball team was howling with laughter.
But Haneul was a whirlwind of enthusiastic, if unskilled, energy. He dashed across the sand, yelling "I got it! I got it!" even when the ball was miles away. He attempted a dramatic, leaping save and landed face-first in the sand, popping back up with a grin, spitting out grains.
"Don't worry, team! We've got them right where we want them!" Haneul yelled, completely undeterred by the score of 10-1.
From the rocks, Ji-won recorded it all, his phone following Haneul's every move. He wasn't capturing the game; he was capturing him—the boundless joy, the ridiculous optimism, the way he lit up the entire beach even in certain defeat.
Doyun, serving again, smirked. "Ready to give up, Sunshine?"
"Never!" Haneul shouted back, planting his feet with comical determination. "The day is young!"
Ji-won zoomed in on Haneul's determined, sandy face. He knew they were going to lose spectacularly. But as he watched the boy he loved, he thought it was the most beautiful victory he had ever seen.
The final point was a brutal, unreturnable spike from Doyun that landed squarely in the middle of the art students' court. The score was a humiliating 15-3.
"AND THAT'S GAME!" Seo-jun roared, pumping his fist.
The basketball team erupted in cheers, while the art students collapsed onto the sand in a panting, defeated heap.
"Alright, losers!" Doyun announced, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Punishment time! The winning team gets to bury the losers in the sand!"
A wave of mock terror and shrieks went through the art students.
"Run!" Min-seo yelled, scrambling to her feet.
It was no use. The athletes were faster and stronger. The beach became a scene of chaotic, laughing pursuit.
Haneul, squealing with laughter, tried to make a break for it but was easily scooped up by a cackling Seo-jun. "Got the ringleader!"
"Jiwon-ssi, help!" Haneul cried out, kicking his legs playfully as he was carried toward a soft patch of sand.
Ji-won, who had been calmly recording the entire match, finally put his phone away. He watched as Haneul was gently but firmly laid down. He didn't intervene. A small, amused smirk played on his lips as he watched his boyfriend get captured.
Soon, all the art students were lying in a row, protesting through their laughter as the basketball team began shoveling sand over them with their hands.
"Not the face! I need this face for painting!" one artist wailed.
"Think of it as becoming one with your subject!" Doyun shot back, meticulously sculpting a mound of sand over Min-seo's legs.
Haneul was wiggling and giggling as Seo-jun and another player buried him. "This is so cold! This is inhumane!"
Doyun walked over, his own artistic vision taking hold. He finished burying Haneul up to his neck, then, with a flourish, he reached down and drew a giant, goofy smiley face in the sand on Haneul's "chest."
"There," Doyun said, dusting off his hands. "Now you look as happy as you always are."
Haneul laughed, his head the only thing visible, his bright smile matching the one drawn on the sand. "I demand a retrial! We were psychologically disadvantaged!"
From his vantage point, Ji-won finally walked over. He stood over Haneul, looking down at his buried, smiling boyfriend.
"Are you documenting my humiliation?" Haneul asked, pouting up at him.
Ji-won knelt down, his expression soft. He gently brushed a stray grain of sand from Haneul's cheek. "No," he said quietly. "I'm documenting your happiness."
He then picked up a handful of sand and, with a rare, playful glint in his eye, let it trickle onto Haneul's head, completing his transformation into a true sand-sculpture. The entire beach echoed with the sound of shared, joyful laughter.