Archive of Our Own ^beta

Masato walked through the university yawning, his pink hair had started to fade, and he had vaguely applied makeup that day. All because he knew very well what day it was.

He checked the time on his phone and yawned even harder when he saw the hour. He really hated having classes so early, I mean, why don't they think about the students? He really didn't want to have a class at 7 in the morning, his brain was really not working at that time.

However, even worse than that, was all the decoration blooming across the university facilities and even its green fields. The amount of hearts and romantic things spread everywhere, even though it wasn't Valentine's Day yet. But did anyone really care? No, only him.

He walked toward his classroom reluctantly, already thinking about what he was going to eat once class ended. He'd probably go to one of the cafeterias with Haneum and order something sweet, but he still wasn't completely sure. His steps got faster once he reached the right building, because he couldn't stand another minute with the cold piercing his bones.

He exhaled against his hands and rubbed them together, looking for some warmth as he headed to his usual seat. It was no surprise to him that the classroom was empty, it always was until the sun was fully up and the rest of his classmates (and the teacher) decided to show up.

Slowly, he leaned against the cold surface and a sharp shiver ran down his spine, but still he didn't move away. He was determined to recover at least a few minutes of sleep. Or so he thought.

"Satooo!" a new voice greeted, echoing in the empty classroom. Why was Junil still so loud at 6 am?

"Hi," was all he said, without lifting his head from his hiding place between his arms. He clearly heard his friend's grumpy sigh, but he really didn't care when his sleep was on the line.

But Junil never shuts up, he never does.

"Have you already thought about who to give your heart to?" And Masato finally looked at him, an annoyed and slightly rude glance. But what could he do? It was way too early to deal with that. "I'll take that as a no. What are you waiting for? I think I'll give mine to Haneum this year."

"As if you haven't given it to him every year..." Masato rolled his eyes while talking about his friends. Ugh. They were such a cute couple it gave him chills. "You know I won't tell you who I'll give my heart to."

"Oh, come on!" Junil complained, pointing at him indignantly with his index finger. "I've known you since first semester and you still won't tell me who you've been giving your heart to all this time?"

Masato shrugged. "You should guess if you want to know."

"So, you're telling me to shut up," Junil replied with a pout, and that made Masato laugh for the first time that day.

"Take it however you want."

"I hate you," Junil rolled his eyes, and Masato leaned back down again, seeking a little peace.

At his university, for some reason, there was a stupid tradition.

He looked at the red string tied around his pinky and sighed. Masato really couldn't believe he had been trapped in this dynamic every year. But this time was different, he was sure that was why Junil kept insisting without rest.

It was his last year of university. The last time he'd participate in this stupid collection.

The dynamic was simple; every year, during Valentine's week, all the students were given a ribbon tied to their pinky on the first day, an absurd way of bringing back the legend of the red thread. After that, the real show began.

It didn't matter if they were boys or girls, anyone could participate, even teachers. The tradition was to crown someone as the collector of hearts once a year. Did it affect anything? No, not really, it was just an activity many saw as fun, others as stupidity (namely: Masato).

So, he really hated this tradition.

Soon class began, but Masato could hear the murmurs of people behind him, so he turned to check as well and felt laughter carelessly forming in his throat.

Kim Junseo already had five threads. At 7 am? On the first day? Damn, that guy really worked fast.

Masato adjusted himself better in his seat, crossing his arms over the desk, ignoring that his notebook was wide open waiting to be used. He watched Junseo smile as if he had just won the lottery. Five threads worn like bracelets around his wrist, there was no doubt he would be the winner that year.

And that annoyed him, it was absurd that someone was really going to win that stupid tradition.

"What an idiot," Masato muttered, almost to himself, though Junil heard him instantly.

"See?" his friend said with a sly smile. "That guy is going to sweep this year, like always. Did you know last year he ended with over two hundred threads?"

Masato raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

"And here I thought people came to study."

Junil laughed loudly, giving him a couple of pats on the back that almost threw him against the desk. How was the teacher not scolding him yet? "C'mon, Sato! We have boring classes every day, but there's only one week to become a legend."

Masato huffed, hiding again between his arms.

"It's stupid to become a legend because of this."

The murmurs in the classroom kept growing: some were talking about who had already given Junseo a thread, others were planning strategies to get threads, there were even a couple of girls anxiously checking their friends' pinkies, as if they were going to miss the train if they didn't decide soon.

The worst part was that Masato knew exactly what would happen: soon that absurd social pressure of "who are you giving your thread to?" would start. He felt suffocated just thinking about it.

Meanwhile, Junseo casually turned to them, sporting a smile so perfect it seemed rehearsed.

"Junil, have you already given your heart?" he asked lightly, like someone commenting on the weather. He leaned against the back of his chair as if he were going to keep talking about it, and Masato really just wanted to ignore him, but he wasn't a rude person (unless it was about Junil).

"Not yet, but I'm clear on who I'll give it to," Junil replied, puffing out his chest.

Masato pretended to gag after hearing him. Haneum again. Who else?

"And you, Masato?" Junseo suddenly asked, with that dangerous smile everyone knew.

Masato lost his mocking smile instantly, and simply stared at Junseo as if he had just spoken the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

He shrugged, feigning indifference.

"I think I won't give it to anyone this year."

Oh, he didn't know that comment would be so controversial. Junseo's eyes widened in surprise and Junil made a confused face, because clearly their morning conversation had been different, but he didn't push the subject.

"That's... wow," Junseo said, really at a loss for words, and Masato really wanted to laugh endlessly. When Junseo coughed and found his words again, he continued. "You should give your heart to someone, it's the last year."

What did he know about his last year? Kim Junseo was a semester ahead of him, in clear terms, that man was his sunbae who in the second half of the year would be busy in the real working world.

"I'll think about it," he replied with a fake smile.

In reality, Masato wasn't going to think about it.

Right when class ended, he left with Junil to wait for Haneum outside his class. He ran a hand through his hair, undoing the hairstyle he had made in the morning, because he was really a little frustrated. Could people stop talking about that tradition? It made his hair stand on end.

"Oh... you already have hearts," was the first thing Junil said when Haneum and Liyu came out of their class. Masato's gaze also dropped to his other friend's wrist, and damn, having 3 threads tied already was surprising.

So he stepped back and motioned to Liyu to do the same, and of course, Liyu obeyed instantly.

The four of them walked to the nearest cafeteria, but Junil and Haneum walked ahead. His eyes caught Junil's fingers playing with the red thread on his pinky, and Masato wondered if he was changing his mind just like he had doubted last year.

"They're really cute," Liyu said with a smile.

"Cute? I'm already tired of Junil," Masato replied, rolling his eyes, with a smile threatening to appear on his face. "He should just confess already."

"Would you do it?" the other guy suddenly asked. "I mean, if you were Junil, wouldn't you say it's not about winning the contest but that... you really like him?"

And Masato thought about it, though he already had the answer at the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, I would. It's impossible to think Haneum doesn't feel the same." He shrugged after speaking, instead moving forward toward the table under the shade their friends had already picked.

He sat at the table reluctantly and put his backpack on top of it. The four of them were still discussing what they could order for breakfast, because with their student budget, it was always better to pool money together and buy something for everyone.

"There are some big American combos for Valentine's," Haneum suggested while checking the menu on his phone.

"I don't want to keep experimenting with American food," Junil complained. Everyone remembered how he had made a weird mix and ended up sick for around three days, just last week.

"I think a stew with steamed rice will be fine and some..." Liyu stopped mid-sentence when his side was suddenly covered by a shadow. He turned his face to look at the person.

Jeon Leejeong. A sunbae.

"Liyu... can I talk to you?"

Oh, the poor boy looked so nervous, his face almost in flames and he looked at Liyu as if his eyes were the bearers of entire galaxies. Masato watched them in silence while spinning his pencil in his hand.

"Oh. Sure," his friend replied. Before leaving, Liyu turned around. "Guys, order the stew, I’ll be back."

It seemed like in his gaze there was a cry for help, for one of the three to intervene, but they only nodded with insincere smiles and a "Don’t worry!" from Haneum.

Soon, Haneum and Junil stood up to bring everyone’s breakfast, because they would need two hands to not ruin it all. In the meantime, Masato simply took out his notes for the next class and looked at them for a while to review, he really didn’t remember absolutely anything they had seen.

Soon, he heard the shouts of two people in the distance. The laughter bubbled and became really loud. Was Sanghyeon interrupting Leejeong’s moment? That kid, he really didn’t want Liyu to get a partner.

"Please, hyung. Ignore him," Woojin asked as he sat next to him. The table they had chosen was big enough for all their friends to be there.

Woojin was a sweet boy he met thanks to Haneum and Liyu, his sunbaes in the music program. He wasn’t as passionate and chaotic, but he was really fun, sometimes a bit cheeky when he got comfortable.

"What are you doing, hyung?" he asked while adjusting his guitar on the floor.

"Just reviewing. So, nothing interesting," Masato laughed a little at his own answer and pushed the notebook away. "Did you already have breakfast?"

Woojin shook his head and pointed at his backpack. "I brought some from home."

Masato nodded, letting Woojin take out a small lunchbox with sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil.

"You’re more organized than all of us together," Masato commented, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.

"Nah," Woojin smiled shyly. "It’s just that if I don’t prepare something, my mom chases me on the phone all morning."

Masato let out a low chuckle. It was refreshing to be next to someone who didn’t talk about hearts, red threads, and all that nonsense. Woojin seemed immune to the collective hysteria of Valentine’s week, and that was exactly what he needed.

Though of course, his luck never lasted too long.

Junil came back with Haneum, both carrying the trays of food as if they were transporting a national treasure. The stew steamed, and the rice shone under the cafeteria lights, drawing a collective sigh.

"We made it without accidents," Haneum announced with a proud smile, setting the plates down on the table.

"That’s a record," Masato commented, half serious, half mocking.

Everyone laughed, even Liyu and Sanghyeon who soon returned from… whatever that had been with Leejeong.

While they ate, the conversation inevitably turned to the tradition. It always happened, as if it were impossible to talk about anything else during that cursed week.

"So, Leejeong…?" Haneum started teasingly.

"Don’t even mention it. None of you saved me, only Sanghyeon," Liyu shut him down, but at the end of his sentence he let out an exhausted sigh. "And Sanghyeon made the worst scene possible."

"But he’s just not the right one!" Sanghyeon complained while drinking his strawberry milk. "I prefer Kaiwen."

Liyu only rolled his eyes, while softly muttering a "shut up" with his cheeks burning.

"This year I heard they want to make some kind of daily ranking," Woojin said, breaking his sandwich into small pieces. "They’re going to post on the board how many threads each person has."

"What?" Masato almost dropped his spoon. "Now there’s also a public scoreboard?"

Junil nodded with too much excitement.

"Yes! It’s going to be amazing. I can already imagine the tension… the competition…"

"The circus, you mean," Masato muttered, glancing at his red thread that was still alone, without company.

"Don’t complain so much, Sato," Haneum said, giving him a gentle nudge. "If you really wanted to, you’d be in the top five effortlessly."

"Exactly, you have the perfect ‘popular guy’ face," added Woojin, laughing.

Masato snorted, as if what they were saying was the most ridiculous thing in the world, though inside he couldn’t help but feel an uncomfortable sting. Not because he cared about winning, of course, but because everyone seemed to assume he had to play the game when he hated every second of the tradition.

"Besides, isn’t this supposed to be your last year?" Sanghyeon asked with his mouth full. "You should do something memorable!"

"My memorable plan is to survive classes and graduate," Masato replied, rolling his eyes.

The table burst into laughter.

In the background, the bustle of the cafeteria was a constant reminder: with every passing day, the red threads began to multiply on wrists and pinkies, filling the hallways with color. And even if Masato tried hard to ignore it, the tradition was catching up with him, as always.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

The second day, Masato noticed something interesting while walking through the hallways next to Yunseo. Even though the boy was talking here and there about how this was his first time witnessing a tradition like this, Masato wasn’t stressed. Actually, Yunseo was kind of cute.

But the most interesting thing was the way he saw with his own eyes how Junseo was being cornered against the wall in one of the less crowded hallways. I mean, everyone knows this building was known for usually being so empty (only chemistry students go in there), but he definitely wasn’t expecting that.

Slammed against the wall, with his breathing almost forced and discomfort in his eyes even though he wasn’t exactly in real danger. A boy Masato had never seen before next to Junseo was cornering him with one arm, while the other was holding his hand. He was probably begging Junseo to give him his heart.

Because at the end of the day, not only the winner was important, but also the person the winner loved. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to pressure another into giving them their heart. It was part of the ugly side of the tradition: obsession.

Masato slowed his pace without realizing it, and Yunseo’s words faded into the air as he watched the scene.

"Hyung?" Yunseo’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. The boy was staring wide-eyed, following his line of sight. "Is that Kim Junseo?"

Masato cleared his throat, walking again as if nothing happened.

"Yes, and it’s not our business."

But Yunseo, with that pesky curiosity of those who still believed in the magic of the tradition, took a couple of steps forward.

"Are they going to force him to give his heart? That’s not right…"

Masato held him by the arm gently, though his tone was firm.

"Don’t get involved, Yunseo. It could be dangerous." Even so, he couldn’t help glancing sideways once more. Junseo pushed the boy’s hand away with a brusque movement and muttered something Masato couldn’t catch. "And Junseo will handle it."

Junseo stayed there a few seconds after shaking the person off, exhaling as if he were angry. Then he lifted his head and, for a fleeting moment, his eyes met Masato’s.

It was enough for Masato to immediately look away, pretending to be interested in the faded poster of a chemistry club on the wall.

"People are crazy with this tradition," Yunseo commented, still impressed. "Is a heart really worth that much?"

Masato sighed. "Some believe it is. That’s why you’ll need to be careful in the future."

Later, Masato could still taste the bitterness on the tip of his tongue. The whole world really was going crazy over that stupid tradition. He kicked different stones on his way out of the university, but his wrist was grabbed firmly.

"Masato," someone called him.

When he turned his head to see who was interrupting his path to freedom, he found a face he never would have expected.

Fan Zheyi.

What is this guy doing here? Why does he have that determined expression?

Oh no.

"I know you don’t feel the same, but I still want to do it," he said bluntly. Zheyi unrolled the red thread from his own finger and offered it to Masato with his open palm.

"Oh god…"

"Just take it, I’m already embarrassed."

Masato really didn’t know what to say, but he took it in his hands and, just as the tradition dictated, tied it around his wrist.

"If it makes you feel better, you’re the first person who ever gave me a heart," Masato teased a little.

"That’s because everyone’s scared of you," Zheyi replied with a smile. His hands traveled to Masato’s cheeks and squeezed them almost tenderly. "We all know you hate the tradition, but I couldn’t let you walk around with nothing, pretty boy."

Masato glared at him, though the slight heat rising to his cheeks didn’t help his intimidating pose.

"You’re nuisance, you know that?"

"Of course. But a handsome nuisance." Zheyi winked at him before letting him go.

The red thread rested on Masato’s wrist as if it burned, far too noticeable for his taste. It was only the second day and he was already tangled up in a problem he hadn’t looked for.

"If someone else sees this…" Masato muttered.

"What? That someone dared to give you their heart?" Zheyi raised an eyebrow, amused. "Well let them see. Better yet, let them know."

Masato rolled his eyes, starting to walk again.

"You’re unbearable."

"And you’re very grateful, I know." Zheyi followed him as if nothing, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Now you can buy me a coffee to make it up to me."

Masato clicked his tongue, but didn’t answer. The murmur of students in the distance reminded him he couldn’t stay still with that hanging on his wrist. And yet, he didn’t take it off.

"I won’t give you any false hopes," Masato teased back, sticking out his tongue playfully.

"You’re rude," Zheyi laughed, but accepted it. "See you around, Sato. Don’t take it off."

Fan Zheyi blew him a kiss as he left, and Masato rolled his eyes again —probably at this point, his eyes would pop out of their sockets from rolling them so much.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

Masato walked lazily through the streets of Seoul, he couldn’t believe he had forgotten to go grocery shopping, now there was nothing for dinner and he didn’t have enough balance to order chicken from his favorite place.

When he entered the store, the sound of the bell rang through the restaurant. Quickly, the owner approached him with a smile.

"Masato! Sweetheart!" the older woman greeted him before wrapping him in a hug. "It’s been a while since I last saw you around here."

"I’m sorry… university has been exhausting," Masato lied. Because the real reason for his absence was standing right at the counter.

When he walked up to the register to finally place his order, the other man leaned forward with a smile. The way his arms stood out through the t-shirt should be fucking illegal, but it wasn’t, and it was paired with that seductive smile.

"I missed you too, not just my mom," Junseo said.

"I don’t care," he muttered quietly as he pulled out his wallet. But Junseo burst out laughing.

"Is that a thread on your pinky? Who’s the unlucky one?" the other asked almost insistently, but Masato just shot him a glare.

Masato clenched his jaw. He could feel the red thread burning more now that Junseo had noticed it.

"It’s none of your business." He paid quickly, almost throwing the bill onto the counter.

Junseo leaned an elbow on the counter, leaning forward shamelessly, so close that Masato felt his breath against his ear.

"Of course it’s my business." His voice dropped lower, more intimate. "Because I don’t remember giving you permission to accept other people’s hearts."

Masato pushed him softly with his shoulder, pretending annoyance while picking up the bag with his order.

"I don’t need your permission. Besides, it wasn’t even serious."

Junseo tilted his head, watching how the thread naturally wrapped around Masato’s wrist, as if it belonged there.

"Then why don’t you take it off?"

The question hung in the air. Masato didn’t answer; he simply turned on his heels and headed for the door.

"Hey, sweetheart!" Junseo’s mother called after him. "Don’t take too long to come back, okay?"

Masato raised a hand in farewell without turning, but he still caught how Junseo, amused, murmured just loud enough for him to hear:

"Exactly, sweetheart. Don’t take too long."

The red thread on his wrist seemed to laugh at him with every step he took out onto the street.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

"You got a heart?!" Junil almost shouted it in the middle of class, but Masato nodded disinterestedly. "Oh my god, now everyone’s going to do it too."

"You talk like I’m liked by a lot of people," Masato mocked, but his comment didn’t get the expected response.

"Where’s the lie?" Junil asked him, genuinely confused. "Aren’t you aware that if they made a ranking of the most desired singles you’d be in the #1 spot?"

"Oh, shut up."

But unfortunately, Junil’s words weren’t loaded with anything other than the truth. It was surprising how magically threads started to appear on his desk and a bunch of people began approaching Masato to give him their hearts. This is absurd!

Now, everyone was watching Masato attentively and he appeared in the stupid ranking that the students had implemented that year. Even though he wasn’t one of the first, because clearly Lee Sangwon, Jang Haneum, and Kim Junseo were leading the top.

He wasn’t one of the first, but he was in 5th place.

"I can’t believe it," Masato murmured, sitting on the grass with his head in Haneum’s lap. "I think I can’t feel my arms."

Haneum laughed loudly, agreeing with his friend. "And it’s only the beginning."

"It’s all Zheyi’s fault," Masato complained. "Who even thinks of giving me his heart just because the guy he likes got hearts first?"

His hair was slowly caressed, but Haneum hummed in agreement. Zheyi had signed Masato’s fate, where everyone saw an opportunity.

"I had to reject Jiayang, how embarrassing…"

"Poor guy, he’s a good kid. Why didn’t you give him a chance?"

"How am I going to give him a chance? I wasn’t going to get his hopes up, idiot."

"Now you have a university celebrity title," Haneum teased.

Masato lifted a hand where his wrist was covered in threads, waving it in front of his eyes.

"This isn’t celebrity, this is torture."

Soon Junil approached while eating a sweet dessert, but with a really amused expression. And Masato knew things were going from bad to worse.

"Masato! Are you aware that your picture was posted on the student forum’s top 10? They nicknamed you the sleepy pink-haired prince! Sleepy prince!"

Masato closed his eyes even tighter, as if he wanted to sink into the ground.

"I’m going to drop out of university. I can’t live with this."

"Stop taking it so seriously," said Liyu, who arrived with a drink in hand and an expression between amused and curious.

The group fell silent for a few seconds after Masato let out an indignant squeal, until Haneum started playing with a strand of Masato’s hair.

"Well, cheer up. Of the top five places in that ridiculous ranking, you’re the only one who doesn’t even try. That makes you unique, right?"

"Exactly," Masato grumbled, moving his head in his lap. "I don’t care about the ranking, or the threads, or anything."

But while he spoke, his fingers instinctively closed around the red thread on his wrist. And although no one commented on it, the suspicion lingered in the air.

Masato looked around and found a scene that only deepened his headache and frustration. What was that stupidity?

At the table where Junseo and his friends had been eating earlier, little by little people began to gather in a circle.

"Should we go see?" Junil asked.

But Sanghyeon, Woojin, and Yunseo were already sneaking over there.

"It’s your turn to watch them," Haneum said as he pulled his hands away from Masato’s hair.

"I’m going to find myself new friends," the boy complained.

He quickly stood up and walked toward the crowd with his hands in his pockets. He already imagined the scene, so he didn’t go with any expectations, but the murmurs of the people filled his ears, all with different thoughts.

"Junseo-sunbae… this is my heart for you."

The murmur turned into a chorus of "ooohs" and giggles. Some pulled out their phones, others whispered about whether he’d accept or not.

Masato stood still, watching from a distance. He could notice Junseo’s discomfort disguised behind that dangerous smile everyone knew. The same smile he used to get his way, even though Masato knew perfectly well that deep down he wasn’t enjoying any of it.

Junseo took the bouquet calmly, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you, I really appreciate it," he said softly. But he didn’t tie the thread to his wrist. And that refusal, though polite, fell like a silent bomb in the hallway.

Masato wanted to add something, but he didn’t know if he could take that liberty in front of everyone.

The girl lowered her gaze, muttered something inaudible, and hurried off with flushed cheeks.

Masato let out a low snort. The crowd dispersed little by little, but Junseo lifted his gaze at that exact moment and their eyes met once again, just like the day before.

The air between them tensed for a second. And this time Masato didn’t look away; instead, he made a gesture toward the bouquet. He savored with mockery the realization on Junseo’s face, who quickly put the flowers aside.

An idiot who, for being kind, forgets his own allergy.

"Ridiculous," he muttered to himself, though he didn’t know if he was talking about the tradition… or about the way his chest tightened every time Junseo was at the center of everything.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

On the second-to-last day, Masato had really lost count of how many hearts he had, he just wanted this to be over already. He got together with his friends to do assignments and someone would find him and give him their heart, it was already… exasperating.

And worst of all, after Lee Sangwon had formalized his relationship with Zhou Anxin, he quickly dropped from the top out of respect.

And now? Now for some reason the name "Masato Aoyagi" was in second place, only below Junseo.

He was so tired. He really couldn’t believe how everyone kept approaching, the last person was He Zhongxing with a rose in his mouth and his heart tied around his neck. God, it was quite a spectacle.

Was it really that bad?

If you’re Kim Junseo, probably yes.

Masato slowly walked toward a seat in Junseo’s family’s shop, Junil, Woojin, and Sanghyeon were there with him, all excited because they had always wanted to see the place Masato called every time the group gathered at his house.

They had finished classes early enough to be there, and Masato was fucking happy he didn’t have to receive another heart because the practice didn’t extend outside the university.

"When are you going to give your heart to Haneum? You’re taking too long," Masato said, pushing himself back in the chair.

"It’s hard! He really doesn’t feel the same way, guys," Junil murmured softly, as discouraged as a little abandoned lamb.

"Don’t be discouraged, Junil-hyung!" Sanghyeon exclaimed. "I know he does like you, but you know he likes to act nonchalant."

And Masato let out a dry laugh. "Nonchalant? That idiot has never been nonchalant. Junil, he doesn’t treat anyone the way he treats you." He scolded him while pointing at him with his phone.

"Stop lying."

"I’m not lying, Junil!"

Junil buried his face in his hands, completely frustrated. "You don’t understand… if he rejects me, I don’t know if I could keep seeing him like I do now."

Sanghyeon put his drink down on the table with a dramatic thud. "That’s what makes it more romantic! You have to risk it all!"

Woojin scoffed and rolled his eyes. "And what if it ruins the group? What if he really rejects you? Think about that, poet."

Silence fell for a second, and Junil sighed. "Exactly. I don’t want anything to change."

Masato looked at the red thread on his own finger. It was ironic: everyone wanted to give it to him, and he didn’t want to receive any. Junil, on the other hand, had the boy he wanted right in front of him, and still overthought it.

"Seriously, hyung… you should do it. It’s your last year together. Wouldn’t you rather regret trying than regret staying quiet?" Sanghyeon spoke with that youthful passion that always characterized him, and Masato had to admit that, although corny, it didn’t sound so bad.

Junil barely smiled, without conviction. "We’ll see…"

Before Masato could respond, the shop’s bell rang, and a strange murmur ran through the place. Masato turned his head out of pure instinct.

And there he was.

Junseo, walking in with his usual calmness, greeting customers as if the whole shop belonged to him and not to his parents. His steps took him straight to the table where they were.

Masato swallowed, very aware of the way his heart was pounding against his ribs. But Junseo only greeted them like the other customers, quickly shutting himself in the kitchen.

"Is this Junseo’s restaurant?" Junil asked, surprised, but Masato only shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal.

"His parents’, actually."

"You see Kim Junseo every time you come?!" Sanghyeon put his drink down dramatically again.

"Only sometimes."

Masato began to bounce one of his legs repeatedly, a little anxious that the topic had changed so drastically.

"Junil, you should give him your heart today. I think the contest ends early tomorrow."

His friend fiddled with the red thread on his finger, a little indecisive. And Masato understood, he understood so much it scared him.

The fear of losing a friendship because of the reckless feelings we have is worse, it winds itself around your chest and ends up blooming to kill you if you never get it off of you. So he took his hands and gave him a smile.

"Believe me, he likes you."

Later, when his friends left one by one, Masato stayed there in the shop, sitting in a corner watching how Junseo and his parents moved back and forth with every order. It was already a bit late when they finally finished, but Masato was still there.

So Junseo came closer and sat right in front of him.

"So now you give love advice," he said amused. He had his seductive, silly smile, but Masato saw no trace of discomfort in it.

"So you’re not allergic anymore," he asked back. But he could clearly see the way Junseo’s neck was a little affected.

"Oh, about that." Junseo fiddled a little with Masato’s fingers, so tenderly that Masato felt the tingling devour him from the inside. "Thank you."

"It’s nothing, I wouldn’t want you to die."

Junseo let out a short laugh, but his eyes stayed fixed on Masato’s, as if searching for something hidden in them.

Masato looked away immediately, uncomfortable with how much that silence could tell him.

The shop door rang again and they both turned their heads almost at the same time. Masato froze.

A boy from another class —tall, with the typical confidence of someone who thought he already had it won— walked in carrying a huge bouquet of red roses, with the thread wrapped around it. He walked straight toward the table where they were.

Masato blinked. He felt as if suddenly the air had become too heavy, so he also pulled his hands away from Junseo’s and looked elsewhere, trying not to be involved in what was about to happen.

"Junseo-ssi, can you accept my heart?" The boy placed the bouquet in front of him with a theatrical gesture, strong enough for some customers to look over curiously.

Junseo raised an eyebrow, puzzled. He opened his mouth to respond, but Masato was already clenching his teeth. His leg trembled again under the table, and this time he didn’t even bother to stop it.

The boy waited, confident smile, as if the answer was already set in stone.

Junseo shifted his gaze toward Masato, just for a second, but that second was enough to set him on fire.

Masato didn’t know if it was anger, jealousy, or simply exhaustion, but he felt the words slip out without thinking.

"He already has too many hearts."

The boy looked at him, confused, and so did Junseo. Masato realized too late what he had said, how obvious it sounded, and wanted to sink into his seat.

But Junseo… smiled. That calm smile he didn’t give to just anyone.

"I’m sorry," he said then, looking at the other with softness but firmness. "I can’t accept any more."

The boy stayed a second too long, uncomfortable, before taking the bouquet and leaving the shop with the same doorbell noise.

Masato breathed, but it was hard.

Junseo leaned his elbow on the table, tilting his head toward him. "Since when do you speak for me?"

Masato wanted to respond with something sarcastic, something to deflect the tension, but his throat was dry.

Junseo chuckled softly and stretched out his arm, pushing Masato’s still trembling hand on the table with one finger. "I didn’t know it bothered you."

Masato stayed still, his heart pounding in his ribs.

"It doesn’t bother me, idiot," Masato denied instinctively and cursed himself for opening his mouth because there was no way to argue it. Only humiliation remained. "I can’t let you beat me."

Junseo stared at him and burst out laughing, genuinely amused. And Masato ignored him, god, he felt like a tomato and his pink hair didn’t help at all.

But something caught his attention, it was the way Junseo untied the knot on his pinky and extended the thread to Masato.

"Take my heart, you’ll need it to beat me."

Junseo said that last part and stood up, without looking back at Masato again. Even though Masato’s heart was going crazy as he left the shop with Junseo’s heart in his hands.

"Damn it," he muttered, covering his mouth.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

The first thing that caught his attention when he entered his classroom was the way half the student population (that is: the whole class) was gathered around Junseo.

And Masato knew the reason very well—there were only a few hours left before the contest ended, but Junseo’s pinky was already empty. He walked slowly toward his seat, while Junil leaned in to tell him the news. In reality, he didn’t know why he had signed up for all his classes with Junil; at that moment, he really just wanted to die of embarrassment.

"Who could it have been?" he heard people whispering.

"Probably some third-year girl, right? It had to be someone important for him to accept."

"Hey, what if it was someone from our class?"

But nobody knew the truth.

"Junseo gave his heart to someone," Junil told him. "No one knows who it is. Do you have any idea?"

And Masato, completely avoiding his friend’s gaze, replied: "Why should I know?"

Junil only made an exasperated noise, annoyed by the answer.

"You woke up in a bad mood today, huh."

Masato dropped his head on the desk, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. The entire class was murmuring, each one inventing different theories, and the center of it all was Junseo, as if he had planned the spectacle himself.

"In a bad mood?" Masato repeated, his voice muffled against the table. "More like tired of always hearing about Junseo."

Junil watched him closely, tilting his head. "That’s strange. You’re never this bitter."

Masato was about to shoot back something venomous, anything to change the subject, when he heard Junseo’s voice on the other side of the classroom. His careless tone contrasted with the expectant atmosphere surrounding him.

"Stop exaggerating," he was saying as he got comfortable in his seat, wearing that half-arrogant smile. "Why do you all care so much?"

The class burst into protests and laughter. Masato glanced sideways at him, and for a second he thought Junseo was looking directly at him, with a mischievous spark in his eyes.

His throat went dry.

Junil kept talking, oblivious. "Hey, what if he gave it to someone unexpected? Like... someone he doesn’t want anyone to find out about."

Masato shot him a deadly glare, his heart pounding way too hard, and Junil pulled back, confused. "Wow, relax, I was just joking."

But Masato wasn’t listening anymore. His mind could only replay last night’s scene: the thread being untied, the heart extended toward him, and those words that still made him tremble.

"Take my heart, you’ll need it to beat me."

He had it hidden under the sleeve of his jacket, and every time he remembered it, it felt like the air was leaving his chest.

He didn’t know how much longer he could keep pretending nothing had happened.

So he tried to just let the day play out normally until the time of truth came, but the problem was that he had never been in the top before, much less seen how the day unfolded, so his heart was pounding hard against his chest.

Specifically, the day started with Haneum and Junil following their hearts (that is: finally confessing, ending Haneum’s streak of hearts), and his younger brother Sen receiving a heart from Woojin (that is: nearly giving him a heart attack).

"You should drop it," said Junseo. Masato jumped in place, startled.

"What are you doing talking to me at university, are you crazy?" Masato whispered quickly, leaning forward as if that could hide him from all the curious eyes around.

Junseo just shrugged, dropping his backpack on Masato’s chair without asking permission. "So what? Everyone’s already talking about me, one more thing won’t change anything."

Masato frowned, dragging the bag away with his foot to get his space back. "Well, it matters to me."

"Oh yeah?" Junseo tilted his head, with that smile that looked like it wanted to provoke him or devour him. "Isn’t it even more suspicious that you get nervous just because I talk to you?"

Masato felt blood rush straight to his ears. "Shut up."

Junseo chuckled under his breath, enjoying every second of his discomfort. Then he leaned closer, enough to make Masato retreat in his chair. "Relax, Aoyagi. I’m not going to say anything."

Masato froze, his mouth half-open to respond, but nothing came out.

Junseo smiled even more, satisfied with the reaction, and leaned back in his chair as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb seconds earlier. "Anyway... you should be thinking about how you’re going to survive this afternoon’s ceremony."

Masato blinked. "What?"

"You don’t know?" Junseo narrowed his eyes, amused. "The committee said that at the end of the contest the top three have to go up on stage. For the official closing."

Masato’s stomach twisted violently. "Go up...?"

"Of course." Junseo looked at him calmly, resting his chin in his hand. "And since you’re in second place, I guess... we’ll see each other up there."

Masato looked at him like he had just heard his death sentence.

Junseo, on the other hand, looked more relaxed than ever. So much so that he leaned in again, brushing his arm against Masato’s. "You have my heart, Masato. You better not embarrass me."

Masato held his breath. His mind screamed idiot, idiot, idiot, but his chest only knew how to beat faster.

He really didn’t know how he was going to survive, but just when classes ended, all his friends self-invited themselves to his house, under the excuse of choosing the perfect outfit.

All his clothes ended up scattered around his room; some on his bed, some on the floor, and the rest in his friends’ hands. Each one examined the pieces as if they were treasures and forced them onto Masato. Different styles had already gone through his body, but they still weren’t tired.

"How do you want to look? Cute or sexy?" asked Liyu, holding up one of his shirts that showed his shoulders. "You should go sexy."

"I think he should go for a soft look, because Junseo with all his muscles will be the hottest one there," replied Junil, his head resting on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

"I want to look like a normal person, thank you very much," said Masato, clearing his throat to remind them he was still there.

But they all ignored him spectacularly.

"Maybe casual is enough," Yunseo suggested, for a moment being the voice of reason. However, he approached Masato with some clothes in his arms. "This is the ultimate outfit, put it on."

They all stared at him expectantly, and Masato had no choice but to lock himself in the bathroom with the clothes in hand.

Actually, it wasn’t that bad and it was still his style.

When he came out, all his friends went quiet, whispering among themselves. Some praised his striped shirt, others the necklaces around his neck, and he saw Liyu nod approvingly at the jacket he was wearing.

"You look hot," said Junil, and Haneum burst out laughing.

"I don’t know if you’re being serious or lying, I hate you all." Then, he looked at the only one in the room who would tell him the truth. "Woojin, say something."

The tall boy tried to say something, but fell silent. His gaze was intense, for the first time really studying Masato closely, as if analyzing him part by part.

"You look amazing, hyung."

The silence after Woojin’s words was so awkward that Masato felt the heat rush straight to his neck.

"What the hell with that seriousness?" Haneum teased, throwing a cushion at Woojin’s head.

"I’m just telling the truth," he replied, shrugging, but not looking away from Masato until the latter finally turned around, his ears red.

"This is absurd," Masato muttered, clenching his fists against his jacket. "It’s not like this is a date."

"Of course it is!" Liyu shouted, giving him a shove on the shoulder. "It’s the date. The entire university is going to be there, and so is Junseo!"

"What does Junseo have to do with anything? Shut up," Masato practically choked, covering his face with both hands.

They all laughed in unison, enjoying his misery far too much.

Junil, who had been quiet until then, nodded with theatrical seriousness. "It’s your destiny, Masato. The top three isn’t just a ranking, it’s... a battlefield."

"Yeah, right," Masato replied dryly, dropping onto the bed among the scattered clothes. "And I didn’t sign up for any war."

But despite his complaints, he stayed there for a moment, looking at his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. The shirt, the jacket, the necklaces... everything fit more than he expected. And, though he’d never admit it out loud, he thought for a second about how Junseo would see him.

That thought made him sit up suddenly. "Alright, get out of my room. I need to mentally prepare myself not to make a fool of myself."

"How ungrateful!" Liyu complained, but even so they all picked up their things between laughs and jokes, leaving one by one until he was alone.

The silence fell heavy. Masato looked at himself once more in the mirror, sighing.

🎗️🎗️🎗️

Masato walked alone through the university, just like on Monday. He felt each of his steps heavy in the silence, wondering if the lack of students around was because everyone was really waiting for that stupid announcement.

In the distance he saw the stage and really cursed Fan Zheyi under his breath—if he hadn’t started all this, he could have stayed far away from the stupid tradition, the stupid ranking, and stupid Junseo.

With slow but determined steps, he finally arrived. He stood behind the stage, watching everyone waiting outside.

The problem with a tradition like that was that many guys who didn’t want to be involved ended up in it against their will, just like Masato. Such a stupid tradition, while Masato still had his heart tied to his pinky.

It hadn’t started yet, since there were still a few minutes left before the final count ended, but Junseo was there, chatting with his friends in the other corner, smiling as if this was fine, as if it was just another day.

It made him dizzy, made him want to throw up, and made him angry. His stomach churned remembering last night, the way he had been so defensive when he saw someone trying to give Junseo a heart, the way he was so jealous that all his friends had found someone who gave them their heart too, leaving a different tint on the celebration.

From afar, while watching Junseo, he remembered the thread tied around his wrist. It was Junseo’s heart.

The same Junseo he had grown up with, the one he had followed since he was a little kid and the one Masato let go of as he grew older because he wanted to prove he wasn’t a child.

That was the Junseo who had always kindly carried him every time he fell and scraped his knees, the one who kissed the band-aid and told him it couldn’t hurt if he’d just kissed it. The Junseo who stole his first kiss in middle school and his first love.

The boy who made him realize he liked men, the one who hugged him around the waist every time he saw him, and the one who cried on his shoulder when he got his university acceptance letter.

Deep down, Masato knew what he had to do for this contest to end right then, but he didn’t know if he was strong enough to do it. And yet, he did.

He stepped forward with strong but determined steps. "Kim Junseo!" he shouted.

The person in question turned to look at him, a little confused. Why was Masato talking to him at the university?

But his steps didn’t stop until he was standing right in front of the other man. "Kim Junseo."

"Yes, that’s my name," Junseo replied nervously. A forced joking tone that screamed "What the hell are you doing?", but Masato couldn’t care less.

Masato swallowed hard. His heart was pounding so violently against his chest he thought everyone around could hear it.

The murmurs began to spread through the place, like fire catching on dry grass. Everyone turned toward them, expectant, excited to witness what looked like the first seconds of a public confession.

But Masato wasn’t there to please anyone.

"Give it to me."

His voice came out firmer than he expected; even he was surprised.

Junseo raised an eyebrow. "Give you what?"

Masato extended his hand, showing the red thread still hanging from his wrist. The tight knot on his pinky was like an open wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding.

"Give me your hand," he repeated. "I’ll give you my heart."

Silence fell absolute. Some students gasped, others laughed in disbelief. Junseo blinked several times, processing those words, before taking a step toward him.

"Are you... sure?" he asked, and his voice was so soft it almost got lost in the noise.

Masato clenched his teeth. If he said no, he could turn his back and pretend nothing had happened. If he said yes, the tradition would end for the two of them in that instant, even if it meant exposing himself in front of everyone.

His fingers trembled as he gripped the thread. "I have always been sure."

Junseo looked at him with those eyes that had been with him since they were kids, filled with a tenderness that hurt. And then, without asking permission, he took Masato’s hand, stepping close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed.

The murmuring around them became a roar.

"Then..." Junseo said with the smallest, sincerest smile. "I don’t plan on giving it back. Because it’s mine now, you know?"

Masato felt the air leave his lungs. His stomach twisted, between fear and euphoria.

And before he could reply, Junseo gently tugged on the thread, finally separating it from its owner. Masato still felt dizzy, as if some part of this had to be a lie because it was too perfect.

But it wasn’t a lie, and Junseo made sure he knew it.

For the first time in their push and pull, Masato got to taste the lips that had been tormenting him so much. The lips that were his downfall and the mouth he had longed to know like nothing else.

Even if they had an audience, it was just the two of them. Junseo clung to his waist and Masato’s hands clutched his shirt tightly. At no moment did they look at anyone else. What was the point of that?

Under the blanket of university tradition, Junseo’s and Masato’s red threads intertwined tightly. At the end of the day, the method to make Junseo not reject your heart was simply to be Aoyagi Masato.