Ha-neul froze mid-step, her head snapping toward me so fast I heard her neck click. Her jaw dropped, and her large light brown eyes went completely round behind her glasses. If she had been holding a glass of her favorite barley tea right now, it would have been a full-scale, catastrophic spit-take.
"M-mwo?" she stammered, her high-and-mighty vice-president composure fracturing into a million pieces. "What kind of ridiculous fiction are you spinning now, Mountain?"
I chuckled, shifting the heavy picnic baskets to my other hand.
"Why are you acting so shy all of a sudden? Isn't it completely obvious?"
"No, I'm not!" she fired back, her voice jumping an octave as a furious pink flush rapidly painted her ears.
"No, you're not?" I grinned, thoroughly enjoying the sheer chaotic joy of messing with her. "You mean you're not shy, or you're denying my first question about Jun-seo?"
Ha-neul stopped walking entirely, stomping her boot against the gravel. She crossed her arms tightly, trying to look intimidating, but the blush ruined the layout. "Why would you even ask me something so absurd? What, are you suddenly jealous that someone is going to steal me away from this house?"
I burst into a loud, echoing laugh that carried over the sound of the ocean waves.
"Steal you? Trust me, Ha-neul-ah, if someone out there is crazy enough to steal you, it definitely won't be our Student President. He sees you as a terrifying younger sister even more than I do!"
She narrowed her eyes into slits, her analytical brain kicking back online.
"Wait a minute. When exactly did you and Jun-seo become so close that you're already casually discussing my personal life behind my back?"
"Well..." I shrugged, offering a lopsided, unbothered smile. "The H-Wnot rehearsal room has basically turned into a little bit of a love council for me lately. Sometimes we boys just discuss things like that! We are guys after all, we have our metrics."
Ha-neul's irritation faltered for a fraction of a second. Her eyes layout-shifted, lighting up with a sudden, intense flash of pure, unadulterated female curiosity. She took a step closer, leaning into my space.
"So... what exactly did Jun-seo say about me?"
I instantly extended my left index finger, planting it firmly against the center of her forehead to physically block her from getting any closer.
"He said," I delivered sarcastically, keeping my face deadpan, "that you should probably stop overcomplicating things and just get back together with Kim Jae-man."
"YAH! Get your finger off my face!" she hissed, swatting my hand away with enough force to crack a cabbage.
Before she could launch a secondary counter-attack, we reached the base of the coastal hill. The terrain split perfectly. To the left, a steep, daunting flight of rough wooden stairs carved directly into the cliffside sloped aggressively toward the summit. To the right, a wide, completely flat gravel path curved gently around the base of the rocks, heading toward the lower shoreline.
I looked up at the looming wooden steps, my lower back instantly screaming a reminder of the hundred salted cabbages I had hauled during Kimjang.
"Aish," I groaned, my posture slumping. "I am already so incredibly hungry and bone-tired. I'm ready to just leave these baskets on the dirt and call it a day."
Ha-neul didn't scold me. Instead, a slow, smooth, and thoroughly ominous smile spread across her face. The flustered, blushing girl from a second ago vanished, replaced by a calculating expression that looked like she was charting a geometric trap.
"The family is already up on the hill, San-ssi," she said, her voice dripping with a sudden, sweet innocence that sounded terrifyingly fake. "A deeply picturesque, majestic view opens up from the top. Ah, please start going up first. I just realized I forgot the extra linen blankets back at the main house. I'll catch up."
I leveled a highly suspicious look at her. Her demeanor had changed in an absolute instant. One second she was completely annoyed by my teasing, and now she was... scheming.
'She wouldn't dare do something malicious to my actual belongings while I'm gone, would she?' I thought, analyzing her posture. 'No, Mrs. Lee is here. She wouldn't risk it.'
I let out a long, suffering sigh, adjusted my grip on the heavy picnic packages, and turned toward the cliff.
"Fine. Don't take too long, Bunny."
"Move along, Sloth," she smirked, already turning back toward the cottages.
Five minutes. Five grueling, agonizing minutes of manual labor.
My thighs were burning, and sweat was trickling down the back of my clean sweater as I dragged my giant frame up the vertical wooden steps. Every step felt like a personal insult from gravity. I kept my head down, focusing entirely on the rhythm of my sneakers against the wood, completely missing the surrounding geography.
Finally, my boots leveled out onto the flat, grassy plateau of the summit.
"I made it," I panted, throwing my head back to take in the view.
The sunset over the Jeju horizon was undeniably majestic, the crimson light painting the water in brilliant strokes of gold, but I didn't have the cognitive energy to appreciate the aesthetics. Because to my absolute, profound surprise... the hilltop was entirely, completely empty.
There were no blankets. No barbecue setup. No Mr. Lee humming trot music, and no Mrs. Lee arranging plates. Just an empty patch of grass blowing in the wind.
"What the hell?" I muttered, thoroughly confused.
I walked slowly toward the rocky eastern edge of the cliff, peering over the precipice to see if I had missed a secondary plateau.
My jaw dropped.
Directly below the hill, nestled inside a massive, crescent-shaped beach cove, was a vibrant, sprawling festival layout. Dozens of customers from my host grandparents' traditional tourist complex had gathered around three roaring bonfires. Fairy lights flickered across the black volcanic sand, a acoustic speaker was playing soft melodies, and right there in the center of the crowd—happily setting up a massive low table with Grandma's fresh kimchi—was the entire Lee family.
I stood at the top of the mountain, holding two massive, freezing-cold picnic baskets, completely isolated in the wind.
My mind rapidly replayed the sequence from five minutes ago. Right before I started climbing the stairs, I had passed a single middle-aged man wearing a professional hiking suit, walking down the steps toward the flat path on the right.
The flat road led straight to the beach cove. The stairs led only to an empty lookout peak.
Ha-neul hadn't forgotten any blankets. She had systematically, mathematically engineered a physical trap to punish me for the Kim Jae-man comment, making me haul forty pounds of picnic gear up a mountain for absolutely naught.
A thick, violent vein began to throb rhythmically on my left temple. I looked down at the beach, spotting her small, blurred figure casually grabbing a carrot slice from the prep table.
I gripped the basket handles until my knuckles turned white.
"I'm gonna kill her."