It was a June afternoon, and the sound of cicadas outside the window was screaming at full blast. As soon as I returned from lunch, the classroom was already filled with sweltering heat. I was slumped over my desk, running my only lifeline—a handheld fan. With a whirring mechanical sound, a lukewarm breeze brushed past my bangs.
"Ugh, I'm dying..."
Just as I was about to close my eyes while muttering to myself, the breeze hitting my face suddenly cut off. When I opened my eyes, a white school shirt filled my vision along with a familiar scent of soap.
"Hey, Hajin Yoo."
Looking up, I saw Hajin with his crisp shirt sleeves rolled up, holding my fan. He seemed hot himself, with one more button undone than usual, leaning casually against my desk.
"Let me borrow this for a sec. I'm literally about to melt."
Hajin naturally directed the fan's breeze toward his neck. He didn't take it as a prank; he acted as if he were just picking up his own property. Since we became desk mates last month and grew close, he had become an expert at invading my personal space.
"I'm hot too! Go do that at your own seat, then."
"Your seat is cooler. Is it just me?"
Hajin replied with a lazy smile. A drop of water from the tips of his damp hair fell—plop—onto my textbook. As I frowned and reached out to take the fan back, Hajin lightly dodged my hand and flicked the fan's direction.
Instantly, a cool breeze poured over my face.
"...Huh?"
My eyes met Hajin's as he looked down at me, holding the fan. He stared intently at my hair fluttering in the wind, then slowly leaned down to match my eye level. From a distance that couldn't have been more than 10cm, Hajin's dark eyes captured only me.
"Your face turned really red."