Chapter 22 — Sunhee Becomes a Problem by Existing

The Literature Department’s common lounge was supposed to be a place of respite—a neutral zone filled with the scent of old paper, cheap vending machine coffee, and the low hum of students debating structuralism. For Han Jae-in, however, there was no such thing as a neutral zone. Every square inch of Seiren University was being slowly partitioned, mapped, and colonized by the three girls currently orbiting his table like celestial bodies with dangerously high gravity.

Jae-in sat at a circular wooden table, his head buried in a thick volume of Kierkegaard. He was trying to lose himself in the philosophy of existential dread, mostly because it felt like a light beach read compared to the psychological pressure mounting in the room.

To his immediate left, Seo Yuri was ostensibly reviewing a student council budget proposal. Her pen moved with surgical precision. To his right, Min Chaerin was "studying" by staring at the same page of her textbook for twenty minutes, her leg hooked over the rung of Jae-in’s chair. And three tables away, Kuroe Hana sat alone, her eyes fixed on the back of Jae-in’s head with the intensity of a sniper waiting for a green light.

Then, the door swung open, and the equilibrium shattered.

"Jae-in! Oh my god, there you are!"

Lee Sunhee bounced into the lounge, her ponytail swinging with an offensive amount of casual energy. She was carrying a stack of fliers and a latte, and she radiated the kind of normalcy that felt like a flashbang to Jae-in’s overstimulated senses. She pulled out the empty chair directly across from him and slumped into it before he could even offer a greeting.

"I’ve been looking for you everywhere," Sunhee said, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "Professor Han said you might have the notes for the seminar I missed. You’re a lifesaver, seriously."

She reached across the table and playfully tapped Jae-in’s hand, which was resting on his book. It was a brief, friendly gesture—the kind of thing normal friends did a thousand times a day.

In Jae-in’s head, the noise didn't just start; it detonated.

'Contact duration: 0.8 seconds. Intent: Casual, but dangerously familiar,' Yuri’s internal monologue sharpened into a razor-edged directive. 'Lee Sunhee is an anomaly. She lacks the social intelligence to recognize the boundaries I have established. If she continues to touch him, the student council will need to review her club's funding. Better yet, I can relocate her volunteer hours to the basement archives. Dust allergies and isolation should dampen this… exuberance.'

'SHE TOUCHED HIS HAND! SHE TOUCHED HIS HAND!' Chaerin’s thoughts were a frantic, high-pitched screech that made Jae-in’s ears ring. 'WHY IS SHE LEANING SO CLOSE? I CAN SEE HER CLEAVAGE FROM HERE. IS SHE DOING THAT ON PURPOSE? SHE’S TRYING TO SEDUCE MY JAE-IN RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME. SHE’S A PREDATOR. A SMILING, BOUNCY PREDATOR. I SHOULD SPILL MY COFFEE ON HER LAPS. NO, THAT’S TOO OBVIOUS. I’LL JUST PINCH HIS ARM SO HE REMEMBERS I’M HERE. REMEMBER ME, JAE-IN. DON’T LOOK AT THE PREDATOR.'

'Target: Lee Sunhee. Threat Level: Low-Tactical, High-Irritant,' Hana’s thoughts were cold and methodical, cutting through the emotional noise of the other two. 'She is occupying the forward sector. She is obstructing my line of sight. If she places her hand on him again, I will "accidentally" drop my metal water bottle near her feet to create a psychological deterrent. She must be taught that proximity to him is synonymous with discomfort.'

Jae-in froze, his fingers gripping the edges of his book until his knuckles turned white. He could feel the heat radiating from Yuri’s "polite" smile and the literal trembling of Chaerin’s leg against his chair.

"Uh, yeah, the notes," Jae-in stammered, his voice sounding thin. "I have them in my bag."

"You're the best!" Sunhee grinned, blissfully unaware that she was currently being targeted by a bureaucratic assassin, a delusional childhood friend, and a tactical stalker. She leaned even further across the table, her face inches from his. "By the way, are you going to the library later? I’m struggling so hard with the Joyce essay. Maybe we could look at it together? My treat for the coffee!"

The air in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

'A library invitation,' Yuri’s mind hummed with cold calculation. 'Enclosed spaces. Whispering. Dim lighting. Absolutely unacceptable. I will schedule a mandatory emergency council meeting for Jae-in at that exact time. If the meeting doesn't exist, I will create one. I will even draft the agenda now. Item one: The immediate removal of Lee Sunhee from the library premises.'

'A DATE! SHE’S ASKING HIM ON A LIBRARY DATE!' Chaerin’s internal world was a swirling vortex of self-pity and rage. 'He likes Joyce. She knows he likes Joyce. She’s using his interests against me! That’s cheating! Jae-in, say no. Say you have to help me with my… my… my everything! I’ll cry. If I cry right now, he won’t go. I can feel the tears coming. Just a little more pressure and—'

'Library. Row 4, Section B. Blind spots are numerous,' Hana’s thoughts analyzed the logistics. 'If they go, I will have to occupy the adjacent aisle. I will need to remove the lightbulbs in her vicinity to ensure she cannot read. Darkness is a natural deterrent for civilians.'

Jae-in looked at Sunhee’s expectant face. She was just a girl who wanted help with an essay. She was the last tether he had to a world where a smile was just a smile. And that was exactly why she was in danger.

"I... I think I'm actually pretty busy later, Sunhee," Jae-in said, his eyes darting toward Yuri, whose smile hadn't wavered but whose thoughts were currently drafting a formal reprimand for Sunhee’s department head.

"Aw, really? Even for an hour?" Sunhee pouted, reaching out again to nudge his arm. "Come on, Jae-in. Don't be a hermit."

At that moment, the door to the lounge opened again. Two other students walked in, but Jae-in didn't hear them. He only heard the triple-layered roar of the girls around him as Sunhee’s finger made contact with his sweater.

'Enough,' Yuri thought.

'GET AWAY FROM HIM!' Chaerin screamed internally.

'Initiating deterrent,' Hana decided.

Before Jae-in could react, the "coincidences" began.

Yuri stood up gracefully, her chair scraping against the floor with a sharp screech that made Sunhee jump. "Oh, Sunhee, I almost forgot," Yuri said, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I saw your name on the list for the campus beautification project.

There’s a mandatory briefing in the administrative building starting… well, five minutes ago. You should probably hurry if you don't want to lose your credit."

"Wait, what? Today?" Sunhee blinked, confused. "I didn't get an email."

'Of course you didn't. I just sent it to your spam folder with a backdated timestamp,' Yuri’s mind added with chilling efficiency.

"You should check," Yuri urged, stepping around the table and placing herself physically between Sunhee and Jae-in. She didn't push Sunhee, but she occupied the space so completely that Sunhee was forced to lean back.

While Sunhee was distracted, Chaerin let out a small, pathetic whimper. "Jae-in-ah… my head. Everything is spinning."

She slumped sideways, her head landing squarely on Jae-in’s shoulder. Her thoughts were a frantic mess of: 'Feel me? Feel how soft I am? Stay here. Don't look at her. Look at your poor, sick Chaerin.'

"Are you okay, Chaerin?" Jae-in asked, though he knew exactly what she was doing. He felt the weight of her leaning into him, her hair smelling like strawberry shampoo, a scent that was becoming a permanent fixture in his olfactory memory.

Behind them, a loud clatter echoed through the lounge. Hana had "tripped" while walking past, and her heavy metal water bottle had slammed onto the floor inches from Sunhee’s foot.

"Whoa!" Sunhee yelped, pulling her feet back.

Hana stood over the bottle, staring at Sunhee with a blank, unblinking expression. She didn't apologize. She didn't move. She just stood there, a silent, menacing presence.

'Distance established,' Hana’s mind noted. 'The subject is now physically and psychologically unsettled. Her heart rate has increased by 15%. She is preparing to flee. Mission successful.'

Sunhee looked from Yuri’s predatory smile to Chaerin’s limp body on Jae-in’s shoulder, to the silent, staring girl with the metal bottle. Even for someone as socially oblivious as Sunhee, the vibe in the room had turned from "study lounge" to "ritual sacrifice" in under sixty seconds.

"Uh… you know what? I’ll just… I’ll check my email," Sunhee said, grabbing her bag and backing away. "And maybe I’ll just use SparkNotes for the Joyce essay. Feel better, Chaerin! See ya, Jae-in!"

She practically bolted for the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut, the tension in the room shifted. It didn't disappear; it just changed shape.

'Problem removed,' Yuri thought, returning to her seat. 'Now, back to the budget. And perhaps I should look into the library’s security footage. Just to ensure no further "accidental" meetings occur.'

'She’s gone! She’s gone!' Chaerin’s thoughts were a celebratory explosion of glitter. 'And he stayed with me. He didn't follow her. He let me lean on him. He loves me so much. I should stay like this for the rest of the day. Maybe I’ll "faint" so he has to carry me to the infirmary.'

'Area clear,' Hana’s thoughts settled into a low-level hum. 'Resuming observation. He is safe. For now.'

Jae-in sat there, Chaerin’s head still on his shoulder, Yuri’s pen scratching rhythmically nearby, and Hana’s eyes burning into the back of his neck. He looked down at his Kierkegaard book.

“The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe,” he read silently.

He wanted to laugh. Kierkegaard didn't know the half of it. The "tribe" wasn't a group of people; it was three girls who could hear his pulse and who saw every other human being as a weed to be plucked from his garden.

"Jae-in-ah," Chaerin whispered, her voice tiny and manipulative. "Can we stay like this for a little longer? I still feel kind of dizzy."

'I’m not dizzy at all,' her mind confessed. 'I’m perfect. I’m in heaven. I want to live in this spot forever. I want to be his skin.'

"Sure, Chaerin," Jae-in said, his voice deadpan.

He didn't have the energy to fight it anymore. He realized with a sinking feeling that he was becoming an accomplice to his own isolation. He had watched them drive Sunhee away—the only person who treated him like a normal human being—and a part of him felt relieved.

He hated that relief. He hated that he enjoyed the weight of Chaerin on his shoulder and the protective wall Yuri and Hana built around him. It was a warm, suffocating blanket, and he was starting to get used to the lack of oxygen.

'He’s not pulling away,' Yuri’s thoughts noted with satisfaction. 'He is beginning to understand. The noise of the world is too much for him. Only I can provide the structure he needs to thrive.'

'He’s so warm,' Chaerin thought. 'He’s my heater. My Jae-in heater. I’ll never let him get cold again.'

'He is calm,' Hana observed. 'The perimeter is secure. I will remain here until the sun sets.'

The afternoon sun filtered through the lounge windows, casting long shadows across the floor. To anyone walking by, it looked like a peaceful scene: a group of students quietly supporting a friend who wasn't feeling well.

But inside Jae-in’s head, the noise was a deafening, overlapping chorus of possession. He realized then that Sunhee hadn't just been a person to them; she was a symptom of a world they were slowly deleting.

[Jae-in, since you’re already helping Chaerin, I’ll bring some tea to your apartment later. You look like you need to relax.]

Yuri’s text appeared on his phone. He didn't even have to look at her to hear her thought: 'And while I’m there, I’ll check the locks. It’s for his safety, after all.'

Jae-in closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. He could hear their thoughts, their breathing, their very intent. It was a prison, but it was a prison that cared deeply about his comfort.

As he drifted into a light, stressed-induced daze, the final thought he heard before falling into a nap was a triple-layered harmony, perfectly synchronized in its obsession:

'Mine.'