The Heritage Club met twice a week after school in a sun-warmed room lined with old posters and display cases. It wasn't loud or busy—just quiet enough to hear the clock tick when no one was speaking.
Ji Hyun didn't mind the quiet.
What he minded was the way Jiyong made noise without saying anything at all.
He would tap his pen just off beat, lean too far back in his chair, or rearrange papers Ji Hyun had already sorted. And every time Ji Hyun looked at him, Jiyong would flash a small, knowing smile.
"Accidents," he'd say. "Relax."
Haeri, of course, never seemed to notice. Or if she did, she didn't let it show.
She was always pleasant—equal parts warm and efficient. She praised both their ideas, asked for both their input, offered them both tea when she brought some in from the teacher's lounge. Her compliments were even-handed, polite.
But still—there were moments.
Moments when she laughed just a little too easily at one of Jiyong's dry jokes. Or when she leaned in a little closer to look at something he'd written. When she listened, her eyes lingered on him a second longer.
Not much.
Just enough.
Ji Hyun didn't say anything. He just focused on the papers in front of him, made sure his voice was steady when he spoke, and never once let his hands tremble when passing something across the table.
⸻
A few days later, Hyun Soo dropped by the club room during break.
The door creaked open mid-discussion, and Ji Hyun looked up, the smallest flicker of relief in his eyes.
"Yo," Hyun Soo said, slipping in casually. "You alive?"
"Barely," Ji Hyun muttered, gesturing toward the pile of drafts on his side of the table.
Haeri looked up from her notes with a smile. "You must be Hyun Soo."
He gave a mock bow. "That's me. I come to check on this guy sometimes. Make sure he hasn't been smothered by project plans."
Ji Hyun huffed a soft laugh.
Haeri motioned to the chair beside her. "You can sit, if you want. We're just going over the timeline for the exhibition."
Hyun Soo nodded and settled into a stool near the shelves.
Haeri returned to the table, sliding easily back into her seat—across from Ji Hyun and Ji Yong, her skirt smoothing as she adjusted her chair.
And that's when it began again.
Ji Yong, now suddenly more attentive than he'd been all meeting, picked up his pen and started making notes. He leaned in just slightly, then "accidentally" nudged Ji Hyun's elbow. Twice.
Ji Hyun didn't flinch. He simply shifted his arm and adjusted his page.
Then Ji Yong leaned across the table, pointing—not at Haeri, but just past her—to Ji Hyun's draft.
"Your font's still uneven."
Ji Hyun didn't look up. "It's readable."
"Barely," Ji Yong replied with a grin. "I thought you were the detail-oriented one."
"I am. That's why your spacing's bothering me."
"Oh?" Ji Yong raised an eyebrow, his voice smooth, teasing. "I thought you liked it when things didn't line up perfectly."
"I like things done right."
Across the table, Haeri glanced between them, eyebrows raised—but her smile was soft, neutral.
"It all looks good to me," she said gently, tapping her own sheet.
Ji Hyun nodded once and returned to his writing.
But Ji Yong wasn't done. Not even close.
Without saying anything, he reached forward and flicked the corner of Ji Hyun's paper—just enough to shift it half an inch to the left.
Ji Hyun froze mid-sentence. His pen hovered. Then, slowly, he looked up.
Ji Yong met his eyes without blinking.
And for a moment, something electric crackled in the quiet space between them.
Not quite anger. Not yet.
Just quiet defiance. That kind of tension only two people locked in a long game could understand.
Across the table, Haeri remained focused on her paragraph—either unaware or choosing not to see the silent war unfolding in front of her.
At the end of the table, Hyun Soo leaned toward Ji Hyun, whispering behind a half-covered mouth.
"Should I bring popcorn next time?"
Ji Hyun sighed deeply but said nothing.
The club room dipped into silence again. Pens scratching. Pages flipping. A distant laugh echoed from the hallway.
Then came a steady, rhythmic tapping. Just faint enough to be dismissed by anyone not paying attention.
Ji Hyun's foot twitched.
Ji Yong's had found his under the table.
Not a kick. Just a graze. A light, teasing tap. Then again. And again.
Ji Hyun didn't move his foot.
Didn't look up.
He just kept writing, one hand gripping his pen a little tighter than before.
_________________________________________
"Ahhhh," Hyun Soo sighed, finishing the last of the soup. Then he let out a loud burp.
Ji Hyun's mother's sharp voice came from the kitchen. "Yah! You better not burp like that again in my house, or next time you're drinking radish water!"
Hyun Soo swallowed nervously. "Sorry, eomma. Your soup's really good."
Ji Hyun smirked across the table. "You're just trying not to get yelled at."
"Better than pretending to like bad food," she snapped back without missing a beat.
Ji Hyun's mother glanced toward Ji Hyun. "Your sister told me your project got selected."
She arched an eyebrow. "Finally. About time he did something that's not a complete waste."
Ji Hyun rolled his eyes but said nothing.
Hyun Soo leaned in and whispered quietly to Ji Hyun, "Looks like you're making her proud."
Ji Hyun gave a small, unamused smile.
Ji Hyun's mother turned her gaze toward Hyun Soo with a raised eyebrow. "And you! You've been looking like a baby panda lately—soft, round, and too comfortable. You should work out instead of burying your nose in books all day."
Hyun Soo stiffened, glancing at Ji Hyun like looking for backup.
Ji Hyun just shrugged, trying not to laugh.
"Did she just call me a baby panda?" Hyun Soo muttered.
Ji Hyun shook his head, barely hiding a grin. "She's got a point."
"Point? More like a dissertation," Hyun Soo said, biting into a rice ball.
"She roasts me and feeds me," Ji Hyun said with a chuckle. "This family's twisted."
Suddenly, loud barking broke the conversation.
Ji Hyun's mother snapped, "I told you—no Ga-ram in the house!"
Ji Hyun raised his hands. "He's not inside. Just at the door."
Ga-ram scratched at the screen door, tail wagging furiously.
Hyun Soo opened the door just enough to peek. "Poor guy... Banished again."
Before anyone could stop him, Ga-ram burst in, sliding across the floor and knocking into Hyun Soo.
"Ga-ram, no!" Ji Hyun's mother shouted, brandishing a dish towel.
Ga-ram barked happily, sending a small plate flying.
Hyun Soo laughed while Ji Hyun shook his head.
From the hallway, Ji Hyun's sister appeared, holding a tray.
"Where's the dog?" she asked, eyeing Ga-ram warily.
"I'm not coming any closer," she said, keeping her distance. "Last time I broke out in hives."
She carefully placed the tray down and backed away like she was avoiding a minefield.
Ga-ram barked again.
Just then, footsteps sounded from the hallway.
Ji Hyun's mother's voice carried: "What's going on here?"
"Quick, outside!" Ji Hyun hissed to Hyun Soo.
They grabbed Ga-ram together and hurried to the door.
Hyun Soo opened it, and Ga-ram bounded out eagerly.
Ji Hyun's mother appeared in the doorway, eyes narrowing. "I swear, if that dog's in here again—"
Ji Hyun held up his hands. "He's outside."
She gave a sharp nod and retreated.
The four of them—Hyun Soo laughing, Ji Hyun amused, the sister cautious, and Ga-ram safely outside—made a perfectly imperfect family portrait.
Hyun Soo looked at Ji Hyun with mock accusation. "This is definitely your fault."
Ji Hyun grinned. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
———————————————————
Days passed, but nothing between Ji Hyun and Choi Ji Yong really changed.
They still sat next to each other. Still bickered. Still acted like two magnets stuck together the wrong way—constantly repelling.
Ji Yong would fix his sleeves. Ji Hyun would roll his eyes.
Ji Hyun would mumble a correction under his breath. Ji Yong would repeat it louder, like it was his idea all along.
Every look was a challenge. Every silence was a dare.
And it was exhausting.
The only time Ji Hyun ever stayed quiet was during club meetings. It was the one place he treated seriously—focused, efficient, and somehow... calm.
Which only gave Ji Yong more room to press, to prod, to pick.
"Look at you," Ji Yong would whisper, leaning in with faux admiration as Ji Hyun took notes. "So mature. Are we sure you're the same guy who tried to stab me with a pencil last week?"
Ji Hyun would glare but say nothing.
Ji Yong would raise a brow. "Wow. Silence? What a rare treat."
Still, Ji Hyun stayed still. Like a rock. Like he refused to let Ji Yong win.
But Ji Yong always pushed one step further.
"You're kind of fun when you're suffering," he'd add, voice low, barely a breath.
⸻
Then, one afternoon, a notice appeared on the classroom board:
School Excursion – One-Day Cultural Experience
Mandatory for all second-year students.
Hyun Soo was instantly buzzing. "We're getting out of this prison! Even if it's just for a day."
Ji Hyun didn't smile. He stared at the poster, chewing the inside of his cheek.
"I don't know if she'll let me go."
Hyun Soo blinked. "It's a school trip."
"You haven't met my mom."
⸻
That evening, Hyun Soo showed up at Ji Hyun's house like a soldier on a mission.
Ji Hyun's mother raised a skeptical eyebrow when the trip came up. "Why does he need to go walk around temples when he should be reviewing his mock test scores?"
"It's part of our coursework, eomma," Hyun Soo said quickly. "Teachers said students who don't attend could lose marks."
Ji Hyun shot him a look—half warning, half gratitude.
She narrowed her eyes. "Really."
"Yes. Very important. Required. Like... academically crucial."
A beat. Then she sighed. "Fine. But don't come back sunburned and useless."
"I won't," Ji Hyun said quickly.
"I was talking to Hyun Soo."
⸻
The morning of the trip was damp with dew and too-early yawns. The sky was still undecided between blue and gray.
Ji Hyun boarded the bus, eyes darting for a seat. He spotted a window spot midway down and slid in. Hyun Soo dropped beside him, still half-asleep.
The teacher's voice called out from the front. "Hyun Soo! Attendance check—come here!"
With a groan, Hyun Soo stood and left his bag behind.
That's when Ji Yong stepped onto the bus like it was a stage and he already owned the audience. He moved down the aisle slowly, eyes scanning. Then stopped—right next to Ji Hyun.
Without a word, he sat down.
Ji Hyun blinked at him. "That's Hyun Soo's seat."
Ji Yong didn't answer. He leaned forward instead, inspecting the seat cushion and then the back of the one in front—like he was seriously searching for something.
Ji Hyun narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing?"
Ji Yong's voice was perfectly flat. "Looking for where it says 'Reserved for Hyun Soo.'"
Ji Hyun stared. "Are you seriously doing this?"
Ji Yong didn't even glance at him. Just leaned back, calm as a monk, and pulled out his earphones.
Ji Hyun gave him a shove—sharp, irritated.
Ji Yong didn't budge. His shoulders didn't even shift. He might as well have been built into the frame of the seat.
"Unbelievable," Ji Hyun muttered, turning to the window in disgust.
The bus started to move, the engine groaning beneath them as it rolled out toward the countryside.
⸻
Their destination: a reconstructed historical village just outside the city—scenic, quiet, full of hanoks, calligraphy scrolls, and more birds than necessary.
Students moved in clumps, clipboards in hand, checking off worksheets they barely read.
Ji Hyun mostly stayed with Hyun Soo, who had returned after giving Ji Yong a scathing glare for stealing his seat. Ji Yong trailed just behind, hands deep in his pockets, one earbud in, eyes half-lidded like he was too bored to care.
Haeri walked beside them too, her expression soft, always a polite nod here and there.
But Ji Hyun noticed something strange—her eyes lingered just a second longer on Ji Yong.
Not that Ji Yong seemed to care.
Of course he didn't.
Still, Ji Hyun saw.
"Is it just me," Hyun Soo whispered, "or does she like him more?"
"Shut up," Ji Hyun hissed.
Ji Yong, without turning, muttered, "I can hear you."
⸻
During the museum portion of the tour, Hyun Soo raised his hand eagerly.
"Yes?" the guide prompted.
Hyun Soo squinted at a large painting. "Did people really wear those hats... indoors?"
A long, awkward pause.
"...Those are funerary masks," the guide said.
A collective groan swept through the room
Ji Hyun smacked a palm against his forehead. "I don't know this person."
Ji Yong didn't say a word—but the smug curve of his lips said plenty.
⸻
After lunch, students were given free time to explore.
Hyun Soo ran off to chase rumors of a snack stand.
Ji Hyun wandered, hands in his pockets, lost in thought—until he found himself beside Ji Yong again.
He didn't remember walking toward him. It just... happened.
They passed an old tea house in silence. No teasing. No sarcasm.
Ji Yong's expression was unreadable. His footsteps slow. Unbothered.
For a moment, Ji Hyun wondered if something was wrong.
Then wondered why he cared.
⸻
By the time the sun began sinking and shadows stretched long across the road, the bus returned to pick them up.
Ji Hyun dropped into the same window seat with a tired exhale.
Hyun Soo made it halfway down the aisle before being roped into helping load leftover boxes.
And Ji Yong, like clockwork, sat down next to Ji Hyun—again.
Ji Hyun's eyes snapped toward him. "Seriously? Again?"
Ji Yong didn't even blink. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve and stared straight ahead like Ji Hyun didn't exist.
Ji Hyun shoved him—harder this time.
But Ji Yong caught his wrist.
The contact froze everything. Not rough. Not soft. Just steady, like he wasn't planning to let go anytime soon.
"If you keep doing that," Ji Yong said calmly, eyes forward, "I'll hold your hand like this until we reach school."
Ji Hyun stared at him, stunned for a beat.
Then scoffed—loud, annoyed, sharp. "What is wrong with you?"
He yanked his wrist back like it disgusted him and immediately turned toward the window, arms crossed, knuckles white.
"I hate you," he muttered.
Ji Yong didn't respond.
But he didn't move either.
The silence that followed was thick— the kind that settles between two people who can't stand each other, don't know how to stop clashing, and are too stubborn to be the one to back down.
Whatever was happening between them, Ji Hyun didn't want to name it.
He just wanted the ride to end.