This World is too Cruel to Men

While other kids, brimming with youthful sentimentality, reveled in the falling snow, happily letting it blanket them, Yun-Seo clearly wasn’t one of them.

We were walking just fine when she suddenly announced she needed to buy an umbrella.

We were at the very back of the long line of students, so I got the teacher’s permission and she headed to a nearby convenience store.

I figured she’d just grab an umbrella and come right back out, so I let her go alone. But lo and behold, she emerged with only a single umbrella in hand.

And not even a full-sized one.

It was one of those flimsy plastic convenience store umbrellas, the epitome of cheapness.

The kind only one person can use, and even then, it’s bound to break somewhere after a short while.

It was a clear indication of her selfish intent to stay dry, leaving me out in the cold.

Since I was secretly hoping for some improvement in our situation, even if covering the bottom half was difficult, I couldn’t help but let my annoyance show.

“Excuse me? Have you perhaps misplaced your conscience?”

“…What’s with the sudden accusation?”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?”

“What is?”

“Your friend is waiting outside, shivering in the freezing snow, while you finish shopping, and you come out with only one umbrella? Wow, that’s just… unforgivable.”

I pointedly stared at the still-wrapped umbrella in Yun-Seo’s hand. She bristled defensively.

“There was only one umbrella left in the entire store! What was I supposed to do?”

Apparently, she felt incredibly wronged, being accused of being inconsiderate when she’d simply been forced by circumstance.

Her reaction was even more intense than usual, which confirmed my suspicion.

‘Well…’

My Yun-Seo wouldn’t do that.

I practically raised her.

How could I not buy her an umbrella?

That’s something only an ungrateful beast would do.

Now that I realized my mistake, I felt a pang of guilt.

“Really? Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Yun-Seo, despite her sharp tongue, has a good heart. As soon as I apologized, she forgave me.

“Well…the snow did start pretty suddenly.”

I imagined at least half the people who left home empty-handed that day must have cursed under their breath the moment the snow started, rushing to the nearest convenience store.

So, it wasn’t surprising that an item usually tucked away in a corner was down to its last piece.

Anyway, given the tiny size of the convenience store umbrella, I decided against sharing and started back towards the movie theater.

I didn’t want to inconvenience the others who had arrived earlier, so I quickened my pace, despite the reluctance.

Or, I tried to. Just then, someone tugged on my coat from behind.

It was, of course, Yun-Seo.

Caught off guard, I lost my balance and stumbled backward.

The perfectly timed tug, combined with the slightly slippery ground, sent me tilting.

My vision tilted with me, giving me a dizzying view of the sky.

‘…What the…?’

Didn’t I fall like this before? I felt a phantom pain in the back of my head.

Fortunately, unlike the first time, there was something behind me to cushion the fall.

My vision continued to tilt as if in slow motion.

And just as the overcast sky filled my view, something firm and surprisingly comforting stopped my head from hitting the pavement—

“Eek?!”

What was this feeling? It couldn’t be a hidden steamed bun she’d been saving for herself, could it?

‘When did she get so…’

Big? I wasn’t talking about what was currently supporting my head.

That would be crazy. It was Yun-Seo, after all.

Still, her unexpected support made me realize how much time had passed. When I first met her, she was just a little kid with a smooth, shiny forehead.

How long had it been?

…I didn’t have time to dwell on such thoughts. Just as surprised as I was, Yun-Seo, flustered, shoved me off.

And following that shove…

“…”

“…”

An awkward silence descended.

While Yun-Seo was the victim of this accidental collision, I, too, was speechless.

I had nothing to say. I swear I didn’t fall on her intentionally, but the point of contact was…well, a bit awkward. It just happened.

The silence stretched on until Yun-Seo finally spoke.

“Um…sorry.”

“…Huh?”

I was honestly shocked.

Yun-Seo, despite being humbled by our previous encounter, was still incredibly proud.

I never expected an apology from her. I’d even prepared a defense in case she tried to blame me.

“I pulled you suddenly… Are you okay?”

“Ah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Why was she acting so differently?

They say a sudden change in personality is a bad omen.

But Yun-Seo, despite her pretensions of maturity, was still a middle schooler.

It had to be the result of her previous defeat.

There was no other explanation.

Knowing her as well as I did, after almost ten years, it felt like I was talking to a Yun-Seo doppelganger. Her apology was that shocking.

Anyway, thanks to Yun-Seo’s body and the ice cream freezer behind her, we both managed to continue our journey to the movie theater.

“…Hey.”

Yun-Seo’s voice called out to me as we walked, slightly apart. I braced myself for a delayed outburst, but reality was even more surprising.

“…Want to share the umbrella?”

“Did it look like I was offering it to you? I bought this with my own money!”

She snapped, some lingering annoyance coloring her tone.

But I couldn’t really refuse.

The snow, which had been falling steadily since we left, was getting heavier.

At this rate, I’d be transformed into General Hwang by the time we reached the cinema.

“Then…”

Sharing the umbrella proved difficult. Our height difference made it awkward.

“Here, you hold it.”

I took the umbrella from her and held it up.

That was better, at least in terms of height.

But the umbrella was still tiny, making it impossible to fully share.

My solution was to sacrifice my right shoulder.

I’d rather have one side soaked than my entire body.

But Yun-Seo, who had graciously shared her purchased umbrella, seemed displeased with this arrangement.

Matching my slower pace, she stopped abruptly.

“…Are you stupid? There’s no point in using the umbrella like that.”

She grabbed my coat and pulled me towards her. I was yanked back under the umbrella, the small gap between us vanishing completely.

So soon after the previous incident, this new contact felt… strange. I couldn’t pinpoint why, but it did.

I glanced at Yun-Seo and saw that she looked just as awkward, perhaps even more so than me.

Dokgun, seeing Yun-Seo’s face peeking out from above the scarf he’d tied for her, mistook her awkwardness for embarrassment.

But the truth was entirely different.

She was awkward, yes, but not for the reason he thought.

‘Thump… thump…’

Yun-Seo swallowed nervously, feeling the warmth radiating from Dokgun through their touching shoulders.

She had pulled him closer because she felt bad seeing his shoulder getting wet outside the umbrella’s coverage.

The space between them, which had seemed ample before, was deceptively narrow.

She couldn’t escape the feeling of him against her.

And that worried her.

If she could hear the soft patter of snow on the umbrella so clearly, how loud must the drumming in her chest be?

Her heart was pounding.

She worried Dokgun would hear it, but at the same time, a part of her hoped he would.

This inner conflict left her confused.

And amidst this confusion… the movie theater finally came into view.