The guest house was filled with the warm, contented buzz of students after a long day. Dinner had been a noisy, happy affair, and now, clean from showers and wrapped in warm clothes against the evening chill, they were preparing to gather again.
In their room, Ji-won stood before Haneul, carefully pulling a beanie over his still-damp hair. Haneul, buzzing with leftover energy, was recounting the day's events between giggles.
"…and then when Min-seo chased Doyun with that stick, I thought Seo-jun was going to cry from laughing!" Haneul chattered, his eyes sparkling. "And you should have seen your face when I did that dive for the ball! You were actually smiling!"
Ji-won finished adjusting the beanie, his hands lingering for a moment on Haneul's shoulders. He didn't reply, just watched Haneul's animated face, his heart swelling with a fondness so deep it almost hurt. He was captivated by this boy who could find so much joy in a volleyball defeat and a sandy burial.
Haneul's giggles softened into a warm, contented sigh. He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Ji-won's waist and resting his head against his chest. "I'm so happy, Jiwon-ssi," he murmured, his voice muffled by the soft fabric of Ji-won's sweater. "This is the best day. I'm so glad we're here together."
He tilted his head back, his expression full of hopeful, boundless optimism. "We can come back here in the future, right? When we're famous artists? We'll rent this same room."
Then, a delicate pink blush colored his cheeks. He rose up on his tiptoes, his hands resting on Ji-won's shoulders for balance. His eyes fluttered shut, and he presented his lips in a silent, sweet request for a kiss.
Ji-won's breath hitched. The trust, the love, the sheer happiness radiating from Haneul was overwhelming. He didn't hesitate. He bent his head, meeting Haneul halfway, and captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss that tasted of mint toothpaste and pure, unadulterated joy. It was a promise—a silent vow that he would do everything in his power to make a future full of these happy days together.
The common room of the guesthouse was cozy, but the real meeting was happening in a hushed, excited huddle in the hallway after the teachers had retired for the night.
"Okay, listen up," Min-seo whispered, her eyes gleaming with conspiracy. "The teachers are in their room. The coast is clear. We sneak out, hit the night market, see the street lights, get some real food, and are back before anyone knows we're gone."
A few of the art students gasped. "Sneak out? We can't! What if we get caught?" one of them hissed, looking nervously toward the teachers' door.
"We'll get in so much trouble!" another added.
Doyun, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, smirked. "Scared? It's just a little adventure. Live a little." He looked pointedly at Haneul. "Unless you'd rather stay in and color."
Haneul's eyes were wide with a mixture of terror and excitement. He glanced at Ji-won, who was standing silently in the corner, observing the debate with his usual analytical calm.
"It is a significant risk," Ji-won stated, his voice low. "The probability of being caught, while not absolute, is high. The consequences would be severe."
The nervous students nodded in agreement.
But then Ji-won continued, a subtle challenge in his tone. "However, the experiential data gained from exploring a new environment at night, observing the cultural shift in the city's atmosphere, and tasting local street cuisine could be valuable. More valuable than the perceived risk."
Haneul's face lit up. Ji-won had just framed rebellion as a "valuable experiential data" collection mission. He grabbed Ji-won's arm. "He's right! It's for our art! We need to observe life! And... and the food smells really good from here!"
Min-seo seized the momentum. "See? Even the human calculator says it's a good idea! It's our last trip! We have to make memories that aren't just sanctioned by the school!"
Between Doyun's taunting, Ji-won's twisted logic, and Haneul's infectious enthusiasm, the resistance crumbled. The hesitant students looked at each other, a slow, daring smile spreading on their faces.
"Okay," one whispered. "But if we get caught, I'm blaming all of you."
"Deal," Min-seo grinned. "Now, everyone, move quietly. We've got a city to conquer."
The conspiratorial huddle in the hallway was at its peak, plans being finalized in excited whispers.
"Okay, so we go out the back—" Min-seo was saying, when a door creaked open down the hall.
Every single student froze.
Their art teacher, Kang Hyuk, emerged from his room, blinking sleepily and holding an empty water glass. He stopped short, taking in the scene of twelve teenagers loitering in the hallway well past lights-out.
"What's going on here?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep but his eyes sharpening. "Why are you all still up? Playing games? Go to bed. All of you."
A chorus of panicked, innocent replies filled the hall.
"Just stretching our legs, seonsaengnim!"
"Couldn't sleep!"
"Talking about... art!"
Haneul, his heart hammering, squeezed Ji-won's hand tightly. Ji-won stood perfectly still, his face a mask of neutrality.
The teacher was not convinced. He crossed his arms. "Right. Well, the art discussion is over. We're waking up early to watch the sunrise tomorrow. For inspiration. You'll need your rest. Now, to your rooms. I'm not moving until I see every door closed."
Groans of disappointment were quickly stifled. Under the teacher's watchful gaze, they had no choice. They began to shuffle toward their rooms, shooting each other desperate looks.
"Goodnight, seonsaengnim," they mumbled as they closed their doors one by one.
The moment his door clicked shut, Haneul put his ear to it, listening. Ji-won stood behind him, a silent pillar of support.
"He's still out there," Haneul whispered. "I can hear him drinking his water!"
They waited in the dark, the only sound their synchronized breathing. Finally, they heard the teacher's door close again.
A soft tap came at their door. Haneul yanked it open to find Min-seo, her face alight with renewed mischief.
"He's gone!" she hissed. "Operation: Midnight Market is back on! Move, move, move!"
They crept back into the hallway, now a stream of silent, giggling shadows. Haneul immediately found Ji-won's hand again, lacing their fingers together. In the dim light, he could see a faint blush on Ji-won's cheeks.
"You're holding my hand really tight," Haneul whispered, grinning.
"It is a precaution," Ji-won murmured, his voice low. "To ensure you do not... trip in the dark and alert the authorities."
Haneul giggled, squeezing his hand. "Sure, Jiwon-ssi. Whatever you say."
And with that, the group of rebels slipped silently out the back door of the guesthouse, disappearing into the vibrant, waiting night of Jeju.
The fifteen-minute walk from the quiet guesthouse to the bustling city was a journey of pure, giddy freedom. The group almost ran, their laughter echoing in the quiet coastal night, fueled by the thrill of their rebellion.
When they reached the city, it was like stepping into another world. Strings of colorful lanterns glowed overhead, illuminating a vibrant street food market packed with sizzling grills and steaming pots. The air was thick with the mouthwatering smells of spicy tteokbokki, savory hotteok, and grilling meat.
Haneul was in heaven. His eyes widened like saucers. "Oh my gosh! Look at everything!" He immediately dragged Ji-won to the first stall. "We have to try the tornado potato!"
He bought one, coated in sweet chili powder, and took two enthusiastic bites. "Mmm! So good!" Then, he turned and held the rest out to Ji-won. "Here, you finish it!"
Ji-won looked at the half-eaten, spiral-shaped potato skeptically. "You've barely consumed a third of it. The waste is inefficient."
"It's not waste! It's sharing!" Haneul insisted, pushing it toward his mouth. "Now open up!"
With a resigned sigh, Ji-won took a bite.
Next was the hotteok, a sweet pancake filled with molten brown sugar and nuts. Haneul took one careful, delighted bite, his eyes rolling back in bliss. "Wow! It's so sweet!" He then immediately turned and fed the rest to Ji-won. "You have to try the gooey part!"
Ji-won, now with a mouthful of sweet pancake, could only chew, a faint dusting of powdered sugar on his lips.
They moved to a tteokbokki stall. Haneul speared one chewy rice cake, blew on it, and ate it. "Spicy!" he gasped, fanning his mouth before holding out the next one for Ji-won. "Your turn!"
Min-seo, watching this while eating her own full portion of odeng, shook her head. "You do realize he's not your personal human garbage disposal, right, Haneul?"
Haneul just beamed, completely unabashed. "He's my taste-tester! I just want him to try everything!" He then bought a stick of dakkochi (grilled chicken skewers), took one tiny bite, and presented the rest to Ji-won with a hopeful smile. "Last one, I promise!"
Ji-won looked from the offered skewer to Haneul's bright, expectant face. He leaned forward and took a bite, his gaze never leaving Haneul's.
"Good?" Haneul asked, his voice soft.
Swallowing, Ji-won gave a small nod. "It is... acceptable."
But the soft look in his eyes said it was more than acceptable. It was perfect. He was being dragged through a noisy market, fed half-eaten street food, and for the first time in his life, he felt completely, utterly content.
The vibrant chaos of the night market was the perfect cover for Doyun's secret mission. While Haneul was busy feeding Ji-won, Doyun huddled with his basketball teammates behind a large stall selling socks and phone cases.
"Okay, here's the plan," Doyun whispered, his eyes glinting. "We loop around, come up behind them, and give them the scare of their lives. Seo-jun, you're on loud noise duty. I'll grab Haneul, you guys grab the others. They'll scream like babies."
Seo-jun cracked his knuckles. "This is gonna be great. They'll never see it coming."
"Let's move!" Doyun commanded.
They slipped away from the main thoroughfare, intending to take a parallel alley and circle back. The plan was simple. The execution was not.
Two turns later, the bustling sounds of the market faded, replaced by the quiet hum of residential streets.
"Uh… Doyun?" one of the players, Kim, said, looking at the identical-looking houses. "This doesn't look right."
"It's fine," Doyun said, his confidence wavering. "It's just a shortcut."
They took another turn. And another. The streets grew narrower, darker, and completely deserted.
"Okay, I think we're lost," Seo-jun admitted, stopping in the middle of a quiet lane.
"We're not lost!" Doyun insisted, pulling out his phone. "I'll just pull up the map." He stared at his screen. "No signal. Who has no signal in the middle of a city?"
A chorus of "Me neither" and "My phone's dead" echoed around him.
Panic began to set in.
"Great plan, Captain," Kim muttered. "Prank the art kids. Instead, we're having a midnight tour of Jeju's most boring neighborhoods."
"We're not pranking them, we're giving them a free comedy show," another added. "They're probably back there eating, and we're out here looking at someone's laundry."
Doyun groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Just… everyone shut up and let me think."
He looked down the long, dark, silent street. Somewhere in the distance, he could still faintly hear the laughter and music of the market they had so confidently left behind.
"Okay," he sighed, utterly defeated. "New plan. We find our way back and pretend this never happened."
The initial thrill of the sneaky adventure had completely evaporated, replaced by a cold, gripping fear. The art students huddled together in the middle of the bustling market, their heads swiveling in every direction.
"They're gone," one of the girls whispered, her voice trembling. "Doyun and his whole team... they're not here."
"I told you this was a bad idea!" another student wailed, on the verge of tears. "We're going to be in so much trouble! What if they got hurt? What if they were taken?"
The mood plummeted. The vibrant lights and delicious smells now felt sinister. Min-seo, who had been their fearless leader, looked pale. "Okay, don't panic. Everyone, spread out! Look for them! They couldn't have gone far!"
---
Meanwhile, in a dark, silent residential area, a very different kind of panic had set in.
"I'm telling you, this is the wrong way!" one of Doyun's teammates, Kim, cried out, his voice cracking with frustration. "We've passed that blue house three times! We're going in circles!"
"We are not!" Doyun snapped back, his own fear making him angry. "I know where I'm going! It's this way!" He pointed down an even darker, narrower alley.
"No, it's not!" another player, Joon, yelled, pointing in the opposite direction. "The market sounds are coming from over there! You're leading us deeper!"
"I'm the captain! You follow me!" Doyun shouted, his pride stung.
"Well, this captain is lost!" Joon screamed back, his composure breaking. "I'm not following you anymore! I'm going this way!" He turned and stormed off in the direction he believed was right. After a moment of hesitation, the rest of the team, crying and scared, ran after Joon, leaving a stunned Doyun alone in the dark.
---
By a miracle, Joon's direction was correct. The lost basketball team stumbled, sobbing with relief, back into the bright lights of the market, right into the arms of the searching art students.
"There they are!" Min-seo yelled, rushing over. The moment of relief was short-lived as she saw their tear-streaked faces. "What happened? Where's Doyun?"
"We got lost! We fought! He went the other way!" Seo-jun blubbered. "He's all alone!"
The group fell into a fresh wave of panic. They were incomplete. They had lost their captain.
It was Ji-won who cut through the chaos, his voice calm and authoritative. "Everyone, stop. You will all go back to the guesthouse, now. Follow the main road directly back. Do not stop. I will find Doyun and meet you there."
Haneul grabbed his arm, his eyes wide with terror. "No! You can't go alone! What if you get lost too?"
Ji-won turned to him, his expression softening for just a second. He placed a hand over Haneul's. "I have an excellent sense of direction. I will find him and I will come back. I promise. Now, go."
The finality in his tone brooked no argument. With one last, worried look, Haneul let himself be pulled away by Min-seo, leading the now-quiet and chastened group back toward the safety of the guesthouse. Ji-won watched them go, then turned and vanished into the dark maze of streets, a lone figure on a rescue mission.
The narrow alley was a pocket of profound silence, a stark contrast to the vibrant market just a few blocks away. Ji-won moved with a predator's quiet grace, his phone held out, the beam of its torch cutting a sharp path through the darkness.
The light swept across a recessed doorway and caught on a huddled form. Someone was curled into a ball, knees drawn to their chest, shoulders shaking with silent, ragged sobs.
Ji-won adjusted the light.
It was Doyun.
Gone was the arrogant basketball captain. In his place was a terrified, lost boy. His face was streaked with tears, his eyes wide with a fear he could no longer contain.
When the light hit him, he flinched, looking up like a startled animal. The moment his blurry vision registered Ji-won's impassive face, a dam broke.
He scrambled to his feet and practically launched himself at Ji-won, wrapping his arms around him in a desperate, clinging hug, burying his wet face in Ji-won's shoulder.
"I was so scared," he choked out, his body trembling. "I thought I'd be stuck here forever."
Ji-won went rigid. The unexpected physical contact was a shock to his system. His arms remained stiffly at his sides. He tolerated it for a few seconds, the sound of Doyun's crying the only noise in the dark alley.
Then, gently but firmly, he placed his hands on Doyun's shoulders and pushed him back, creating a space between them.
"Let's go back," Ji-won said, his voice devoid of judgment or mockery. It was simply a statement of fact. A solution.
Sniffling, Doyun wiped his arm across his eyes, smearing the tears and dirt on his face. The raw vulnerability was quickly being replaced by a deep, humiliated blush. He nodded, unable to meet Ji-won's gaze.
Without another word, Ji-won turned, his phone torch illuminating the path out of the alley. Doyun followed a step behind, no longer a rival, but a chastened follower, his head bowed as he walked in the wake of the boy he had tried so hard to bully, who had now become his unlikely rescuer.
The walk back was shrouded in a heavy silence, broken only by the crunch of their footsteps on the gravel and Doyun's occasional sniffle. The bright lights of the main road and the distant sound of the market grew closer, but the humiliation of the last hour clung to Doyun like a shroud.
He glanced at Ji-won's profile, illuminated by the moon. The guy hadn't said a single mocking word.
"Hey," Doyun began, his voice rough. He cleared his throat. "Ji-won."
Ji-won glanced at him, his expression unreadable.
"I… I'm sorry," Doyun forced out, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "For being such a jerk to you. All the time. It was… stupid."
Ji-won didn't respond, just kept walking.
"And… thanks," Doyun added, his voice dropping to a mumble. "For finding me. You didn't have to."
They walked a few more steps in silence. Doyun was sure that was it. He'd get a cold shoulder, which was probably more than he deserved.
Then, Ji-won spoke, his voice quiet but clear in the night air.
"Haneul would have been sad if you were lost."
Doyun stopped walking. The words weren't an acceptance of his apology. They weren't a "you're welcome." They were something else entirely.
Ji-won stopped a few paces ahead and looked back at him.
"He cares about you," Ji-won continued, his tone matter-of-fact, as if stating a simple, universal truth. "Therefore, your safety was a variable that needed to be corrected."
It was the most Ji-won thing Doyun had ever heard. But beneath the cold, logical phrasing was a meaning that made Doyun's chest feel warm. Ji-won hadn't come for him. He had come because losing Doyun would have hurt Haneul. It was an acknowledgment of Doyun's place in Haneul's world, and an unspoken promise to protect that world, even the parts of it that annoyed him.
A slow, genuine smile spread across Doyun's face for the first time all night. He wasn't a rival. He was a variable in Haneul's happiness equation, and Ji-won was the one ensuring the equation stayed balanced.
"Yeah," Doyun said, his voice lighter as he caught up to Ji-won. "Okay. I get it."
He fell into step beside him, the tension between them finally dissolving into a quiet, mutual understanding as they walked the rest of the way back to the guesthouse together.
The relief of seeing the familiar shape of the guesthouse was short-lived. As Ji-won and Doyun approached, they expected to see an empty yard. Instead, they found a scene of utter defeat.
The entire group—art students and basketball players—was lined up outside the main door, their heads bowed, shoulders slumped. They were standing in a silence so profound it was louder than any scolding.
And standing before them, arms crossed over his massive chest, was the basketball team's gym teacher, Mr. Kang. He was a mountain of a man, and his expression was a thundercloud. The art teacher, Kang Hyuk, stood slightly behind him, looking deeply disappointed.
Min-seo, seeing them approach, gave a tiny, frantic shake of her head, her eyes wide with warning.
Mr. Kang's head slowly turned. His gaze, cold and furious, landed first on Doyun, then on Ji-won.
"Well, well," his voice boomed in the quiet night, making several students flinch. "Look who decided to join the party. The missing captain and his… escort."
Doyun froze, all the color draining from his face.
"Care to explain," Mr. Kang continued, his voice dropping to a dangerously low rumble, "why I was woken up by a hysterical group of students confessing to a midnight field trip that I did not authorize?"
Haneul, from his spot in the line, risked a glance at Ji-won, his face a mask of pure terror.
The gym teacher took a step forward, his shadow falling over them. "I am waiting. Someone, start talking. Now."
The tension was thick enough to slice. Mr. Kang's glare was a physical weight on the students.
The art teacher, Kang Hyuk, cleared his throat gently. "Mr. Kang, perhaps we can discuss this in the morning? The students are clearly tired—"
"Tired?" the gym teacher boomed, cutting him off. "They weren't too tired for a midnight stroll! I want an explanation. Now." He scanned the line of terrified faces. "Who organized this?"
A panicked silence followed. Then, one of the art students, a boy named Jin-sung, blurted out, "We were… sleepwalking! A collective somnambulistic episode! The sea air… it affects the inner ear!"
Mr. Kang's eye twitched.
Another student, seeing this fail, tried a different approach. "We were conducting a… a lunar study! For our art! The light of the full moon on the urban landscape is a crucial, yet understudied, phenomenon!"
From the back, Min-seo whispered a desperate, "No, don't—"
But it was too late. Seo-jun, the basketball player, puffed out his chest. "We were on a covert training mission, sir! Building endurance and… and night-time navigation skills!"
Mr. Kang's face, which had been a mask of fury, was now turning a dangerous shade of purple. He took a slow, deliberate step forward. "A training mission," he repeated, his voice deceptively quiet. "To the… night market?"
Haneul, seeing everything falling apart, decided to go for the heartstrings. He looked up with wide, innocent eyes. "We just wanted to try the tornado potato, sir… It looked so lonely…"
At this, the art teacher, Kang Hyuk, who had been trying to maintain a stern facade, lost his battle. A loud, unexpected snort of laughter escaped him. He quickly turned it into a cough, covering his mouth, but his shoulders were shaking.
This was the final straw for the gym teacher. The art teacher's laughter, combined with the sheer, ridiculous audacity of their excuses, made the vein in his forehead pulse visibly.
"SLEEPWALKING? LUNAR STUDIES? A TRAINING MISSION FOR POTATOES?!" he roared, his voice echoing across the quiet beach. "DO I LOOK LIKE I WAS BORN YESTERDAY?!"
The entire lineup flinched as one. Their excuses, meant to save them, had only dug their grave deeper. And the art teacher's uncontrollable giggles in the background were not helping at all.
The gym teacher's roaring echo faded, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. The students braced for the worst—expulsion, calling parents, eternal detention.
But then, something unexpected happened. A slow, grim smirk spread across Mr. Kang's stern face. It was a terrifying sight.
"Fine," he said, his voice now a low, ominous rumble. "You've all had your fun. You've used your… creative minds to their fullest tonight."
He let the words hang in the air, his eyes sweeping over the lineup one more time.
"Get to bed. Now," he commanded. "Rest well. Because tomorrow morning at 5 AM sharp, we are going to have a different kind of training mission. One I think you'll find very… inspiring."
The way he said "inspiring" sent a collective shiver down fourteen spines. It promised pain. It promised sweat. It promised utter exhaustion.
"It's not a punishment," Mr. Kang added, the smirk returning. "Consider it a… pedagogical necessity."
He had clearly been listening to Ji-won earlier. The use of the phrase was a final, mocking twist of the knife.
Without another word, he turned and strode back inside the guesthouse, leaving the students standing in the cold, stunned and terrified.
The art teacher, Kang Hyuk, gave them a final, helpless shrug as if to say, "You brought this on yourselves," before following his colleague inside.
As the door closed, the group collectively deflated.
"5 AM?" one of the art students whimpered.
"What do you think he's going to make us do?" another whispered, her voice trembling.
Min-seo just groaned, dropping her head into her hands. "We're doomed."
Haneul looked at Ji-won, his eyes wide. Ji-won met his gaze, his own expression unreadable, but a single, clear thought passed between them: the price of their midnight adventure was going to be paid in sweat, and it was going to be steep.