As soon as the answer sheets were taken out, the correct answers flew into each classroom as fast as urgent dispatches.
The kid who received it dashed to the teacher’s desk like a shot and called out the answers, while the other kids were busy flipping through their test papers in unison to grade them. However, among them, Hwan for some reason had his test paper firmly folded up.
Though there was no one who wanted to know their score more than him right now.
Huiseo, who thought this behavior strange, asked from beside him, “Why aren’t you grading it?” But Hwan’s answer was firm.
“I’ll do it when I get back.”
“Why?”
“…I’m too nervous.”
Whatever the result might be, he said that in his current state of mind, he felt like he’d either have his legs give out and collapse, or conversely bounce up like a grasshopper in an unseemly display.
“That won’t do. I’m a prince, after all.”
He spoke pretending to be calm, but under the desk his anxious legs were trembling.
Seeing this, a smile leaked through Huiseo’s lips—pik.
Honestly speaking, Huiseo was more of the type to think that being nervous like this after it had already left his hands was rather pointless. However, knowing how hard Hwan had worked during this time, just this once he decided not to add any annoying comments.
This was almost the first time Hwan had gritted his teeth and worked hard at something like this. Especially if it was related to studying, all the more so.
So he sincerely hoped that good results would follow this first experience.
***
However, reality is always cold and doesn’t follow one’s heart, so after returning to the palace and finally self-grading his math test at his quarters, Hwan collapsed on the spot and fell ill.
“Are you crazy?”
The voice muttering this was filled with a sense of injustice.
Could this situation even make sense?
“…59 points?”
If a variety show did this much, it would get criticized for being rigged.
Of course, he did surpass the initial goal of 50 points. However, he ended up exactly 1 point—no more, no less—short of the 60 points that had “an overnight stay with Huiseo” riding on it. He was so dumbfounded he couldn’t even speak. Even if someone tried to get this score on purpose, they’d probably rack their brains for ages calculating the points.
Was this fate’s joke?
“How… how am I 1 point short? Are you messing with me?”
He got angry, then felt suffocated, then couldn’t bear how his vision kept flickering. The test paper he’d brought back so preciously was now crumpled carelessly and rolling around beside him. It perfectly resembled Hwan’s state.
“…It’s okay. You worked hard. You’ll do better next time.”
Beside such a Hwan, Huiseo, who had been reading the room, offered what he thought was consolation, but unfortunately, to the current Hwan, these words couldn’t reach him.
“…What good is next time.”
When we can’t be together right now.
He was aware that anyone watching would think he was being overly dramatic, as if he were parting with Huiseo forever. But even so, Hwan couldn’t hide the huge disappointment crashing down on him. Honestly, he thought he could do it with that much effort.
But it was ridiculous overconfidence.
Not knowing his place.
“…Hwan-ah.”
“Sorry. I’m going to wash up.”
Thinking he’d only show more pathetic sides of himself if he stayed like this, Hwan said this and got up. It was an escape route he’d barely found by forcing his shocked brain to work.
Right now, Hwan found it unbearably embarrassing to be next to Huiseo in this moment.
‘I should have sent Huiseo back first.’
‘I should have graded it when I was alone.’
Belated regrets flooded in like a tide. It wasn’t enough to only show cool sides of himself, yet after making such a fuss, he couldn’t even surpass 60 points. So he thought how pathetically stupid he must look to Huiseo, who was already so smart.
‘Would it have been different if I’d studied more normally?’
Chewing over regrets with an expiration date of today several times, Hwan fled in haste.
Because of that, Huiseo, who was left alone in an instant, also didn’t feel good.
‘Should I not have agreed to the bet?’
It felt like this was all his fault.
He’d responded partly to give motivation and partly wanting to let Hwan know the fun of studying. But it seemed he’d only made him more dejected because of that bet. Huiseo truly hadn’t known the results would turn out this regrettably.
Even if that were the case, he thought that given Hwan’s usual temperament, he’d laugh it off cheerfully…
He hadn’t known he’d be this greatly disappointed.
So it made him newly realize how seriously Hwan had worked for this exam, usually someone who lived putting down many things saying “it’s useless anyway.” Such frustration was like a privilege only those who worked hardest could feel.
‘Even if I say that, it’ll still be regrettable for him.’
Huiseo, who was grateful that Hwan had worked so hard, genuinely wanted to comfort him.
If he now patronizingly said, ‘You failed the bet but I’ll stay here anyway,’ it seemed like it would only scratch his wounded pride more rather than help it recover. Also, Huiseo didn’t want to leave room for thinking, ‘Even if I don’t reach the goal, he’ll give in if I whine,’ later on.
Due to such circumstances, even what he’d originally agreed to give would be difficult, but…
‘…What could there be?’
A way to soothe Hwan’s heart even a little.
Huiseo pondered while looking at the door Hwan had firmly closed.
***
At that moment, Hwan was standing blankly looking at his own wet face in the mirror.
He tried washing his face repeatedly wanting to shake off his gloomy mood, but it was completely useless. He couldn’t help his constantly sinking feelings. Thinking about it again, that 1 point was still absurd. It was so regrettable. If it had been a score nowhere near the goal, he would have thought, ‘Yeah, that’s more like me after all.’
Regrets dripped down.
His wet face in the mirror also seemed to be crying, tears dripping down.
‘Pathetic. Really.’
Thinking about it, it was really nothing, yet being so shaken like this was also pathetic. So Hwan stood there like that for a long while, frustrated once again.
Then finally barely pulling himself together and leaving the bathroom, Hwan saw his empty room and drooped his shoulders down once more.
‘…He left.’
Of course, he was the one who left first saying he’d wash up, and Huiseo must have thought he was going to rest and went back. However, his childish and fickle heart wanted to grumble, ‘Still… when I’m this dejected, isn’t it too much to just leave without a word?’
It was regrettable, disappointing, and bitter.
At times like this, he really was second to none in being cold-hearted and indifferent.
But suddenly, this thought also occurred to him.
Perhaps Huiseo was also as disappointed as himself—no, even more so.
Realizing belatedly that he hadn’t properly observed what Huiseo’s face looked like just now because he himself had been so greatly disappointed, Hwan’s heart sank with a thud. He tried hard to trace his memories, but he simply couldn’t remember.
‘Was it stiff?’
Or did he roll his eyes looking at me pathetically?
It seemed like he’d said it was okay, but maybe inside he was really angry. Actually, even if that were the case, he had nothing to say.
‘…Who can I blame.’
Hwan raised his hand to wipe down his dry face and let out a deep sigh.
It seemed he’d have to find Huiseo as soon as day broke tomorrow. He decided to make the first move before disappointed Huiseo could say anything else.
That he was sorry.
‘That I’ll work harder…’
More than now.
If he begged earnestly, wouldn’t Huiseo’s heart soften and he’d think something like, ‘I’ll let it pass just this one more time’? At the end of his lengthening thoughts, Hwan finally hit his own head saying, “Ugh, idiot,” and collapsed onto the bed, lying down.
For now, he wanted to rest a bit.
Even lying down like this, he actually tossed and turned for a long time due to his uncomfortable feelings, but eventually unable to overcome the accumulated physical fatigue, he dozed off into a light sleep without realizing it.
But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, the door opened roughly—bwalk—and Hwan couldn’t help but wake up from sleep, startled.
‘What?’
Even if he was a prince who was treated terribly outside, this was inside the palace.
It meant that at least here, people couldn’t act so rudely.
So there actually weren’t many people who could burst open Hwan’s door and enter like this. Moreover, among those few people, someone who would do this without caring about propriety, someone for whom Hwan would allow this…
If you subtracted one by one and followed along, there was ultimately only one person left.
That may be so, but “being able to” and “actually doing so” were issues as different as heaven and earth. Because of that, with a dazed face wondering if this was a dream or not, Hwan called out to the other person.
“…Hui, Huiseo-ya?”
“Already sleeping? Are you going to sleep?”
“Huh? No, I was, just lying down for a bit.”
“Then come out.”
“Uh…?”
Before Hwan could even ask what was going on, Huiseo, having finished what he had to say, left like the wind just as he had appeared.
‘…What? That forcefulness?’
Not understanding the situation but his heart pounding at the unexpected appearance, Hwan got up as if possessed. Then, as if he might lose track of Huiseo who had left first, he hurriedly followed him out without even thinking to fix his disheveled hair.
The scene he saw next was Huiseo standing alone in the front yard of his quarters.
At his feet was none other than a soccer ball.
“…What.”
The voice that followed was somewhat curt, but still much softer than before.
Because when it came to Huiseo and a ball, there was one precious memory that came to mind.
