That day, he was thankfully able to walk home alone.
It was because Nam Yun-hwa, the second-year homeroom teacher, had spotted two second-years and taken them with her. She apparently needed some muscle — and she’d happened to find two second-year alphas who hadn’t gone home yet and were just loitering around. Cha-heun watched the two of them follow without even being able to refuse, gave a light wave, and quietly made his escape alone.
He’d been about to tidy up his desk drawer before heading out when he found a chocolate and a note inside.
Hyung, this is to thank you for the other time.
Seeing the cute little packet of chocolates sitting alongside a note written in neat handwriting, Cha-heun glanced over at the door for no real reason.
Could’ve just given it to me in person. What’s this about….
When he thought of someone who owed him, only Baek Yu-gyeong came to mind. It seemed like Yu-gyeong had stopped by and left it while he wasn’t there, but….
Then again, he might have been embarrassed.
He was at that age after all — it made sense. And honestly, it was a little cute. Cha-heun tucked the chocolate and the note into his bag and got up from his seat.
Though the handwriting is subtly different from what I saw before.
Then again, it could vary a bit each time he wrote. It wasn’t like Cha-heun was an expert on the matter.
He brushed it off without much thought and stepped out the door.
Today too, Cha-heun genuinely hated this world.
He had no idea how the minds of high schoolers were wired — or whether Baek Yu-gyeong was just a special case. Either way, one thing was certain: this was not fully developed human behavior.
Just yesterday he’d thought it was a little cute, the embarrassed way he’d passed on his feelings — and the fact that today had already shattered that impression was frankly astonishing.
He’d already known that his chances of having a normal school life were shot, but he’d never once imagined he’d feel the urge to scale the school wall just to get lunch.
“Hyung, I’m hungry. Hm?”
“Then why did you have to go and cause a scene — !”
Here’s what had happened.
Baek Yu-gyeong had spotted him in the cafeteria and apparently been so delighted to see him that he’d come sprinting over, saying he wanted to eat together — and that was where it all started. Whether his foot caught on something mid-run, Yu-gyeong had sent his lunch tray flying magnificently and dumped it squarely on top of Cha-heun’s homeroom teacher Ji Seok-hwan’s head. The principal standing beside him also ended up covered in food, and both of them got thrown out of the cafeteria for causing trouble.
What made it all the more absurd was that the one who’d actually fallen didn’t have so much as a speck on him. Baek Yu-gyeong hadn’t face-planted at all — he’d only launched the tray, landing cleanly on one bent knee right where he stood.
And then he got up, looked over the teachers’ situation, and started brushing off his own knee first.
Oh my, how clumsy of me. Are you all right?
He said that afterward and then flashed a bright smile. It was the kind of fresh, sparkling grin you’d only see in a sports drink advertisement.
For someone who’d just made a mess, he looked anything but sorry — if anything, he looked like he was having the time of his life.
Goodness, but the floor really is far too slippery. Someone’s going to get seriously hurt.
Instead of apologizing, Baek Yu-gyeong blamed the floor — and beamed at the food-drenched teachers. The whole thing was radiant enough that he looked like the solo lead of some teen romance drama.
Ah, right. This is a teen romance.
Utterly bewildering — but setting all of that aside, what was most unfair was what came after. The trip and the accident had clearly been Yu-gyeong’s fault, so the lecture should have been Yu-gyeong’s to sit through — but because Yu-gyeong had been running toward Cha-heun, the two of them were thrown out together.
Ugh, this kid.
It was infuriating and completely absurd — but just as Cha-heun was starting to think it was still better than Yu-gyeong getting chewed out alone, he caught something odd in passing.
From the chatter of the students still inside the cafeteria, apparently it was the first time Baek Yu-gyeong had ever set foot in there. In the middle of his exasperation, Cha-heun found himself wondering why a growing teenager would be skipping meals, and pressed him on it.
“But I heard you don’t eat school lunch? Why not?”
“Just. Hmm….”
Yu-gyeong trailed off vaguely, and Cha-heun didn’t push further — just gave him a light pat on the back.
Right. He didn’t need to be told to understand. From watching him all this time, it seemed like Baek Yu-gyeong had something of a germaphobia. That kind of thing would be tough to navigate in communal settings, and pressing further would only put him in an awkward spot.
He usually brought simple snacks with him, but said he’d forgotten today. Despite that, he’d apparently been passing by the cafeteria building when he happened to spot Cha-heun through the door and come chasing after him.
And then caused a disaster the moment he arrived.
Cha-heun shot Yu-gyeong a look that said he was absolutely exhausted by him, then let out a heavy sigh. Maybe it was the bright hair — but absurdly, the image of him charging over from across the room with a lunch tray in hand had reminded him of an overexcited golden retriever, and he found himself thinking it was sort of endearing. Picturing a retriever bounding toward him through the water with a stick in its mouth — even that felt almost funny.
…Just how excited do you have to be to flip a tray while running toward someone. What an unusual creature.
The more he thought about it, the more he couldn’t even be properly angry — he could only groan. He had a feeling laughter was going to slip out of him at any moment.
What a ridiculous guy. But that aside…. In my life, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone be this happy to see me.
Not even family had welcomed him like this.
…Looking at it that way, he was kind of sweet. And also a complete headache. Mixed feelings, going back and forth.
“I’m really hungry though…. Hyung, is it okay with you if I, a growing boy, goes hungry?”
As Yu-gyeong’s whining started up again, Cha-heun — now leaning toward the headache end of those mixed feelings — swept a tired gaze over him. Head tilted slightly down, staring up at him, whimpering about being hungry — it should have been insufferable by now, but the kid was so stupidly pretty that it was hard not to feel a little sorry for him.
A growing boy.
For someone who looked so delicately pretty, he was laughably well past 180 centimeters in height — and the fact that he was asking to grow even more from here was just offensive. In the middle of all his exasperation, Cha-heun thought about how he’d become ‘Seo’ Cha-heun and ended up shorter in this body, and the injustice of it made him snap back more curtly than intended.
“…And what exactly are you planning to do with even more height.”
“What do you mean — I need to be able to wrap you up properly in a hug, hyung.”
“Then it sounds like you don’t actually need to grow.”
“Mmmm.”
“Can you back up a little?”
“I’ve been emotionally wounded. You hurt my heart, hyung, so you have to take responsibility. Ow, ow.”
Clutching the area around his chest and going ow, ow — not even remotely funny.
But really, why does this kid keep pressing closer lately?
It had been worse ever since that I think I actually really like you the other day.
He kept feeling Yu-gyeong squeeze tighter and press closer, and then the memory of that I think I’m a little worked up resurfaced, and Cha-heun quickly conceded.
“Fine, okay. I’ll buy you something from the school store. Something from the store — actually, you can have snacks instead.”
“The stuff at the school store tastes bad. I know a good place outside, let’s go there. Hm?”
“Unfortunately, I only have enough money on me to buy something from the school store.”
“And lucky for you, I happen to have plenty of money. We’re meant to be, aren’t we.”
Not meant to be — what they were was a certified disaster, and definitely not operating on the same wavelength.
How long had he been standing near the wall in a standoff with Baek Yu-gyeong before he finally gave in and was about to casually vault over it? It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to buy Yu-gyeong a meal.
“Baek Yu-gyeong.”
Just then, someone called out to Yu-gyeong from behind, and Cha-heun whipped around, startled.
Don’t tell me a teacher spotted us about to go over the wall.
The thought that this, on top of skipping school before and his poor grades, would be absolutely the end of him drained the color from Cha-heun’s face.
Fortunately, the one who had called Baek Yu-gyeong’s name was none other than Ji Hye-han. Unlike when he’d seen him at the gymnasium, Ji Hye-han was in his school uniform, neatly put together as always, and was walking toward them with an expressionless face.
No — on closer look, there was something that appeared to be a hint of anger in that composed face.
“…Hye-han, why are you —”
Thinking Ji Hye-han might have come to enforce school discipline, Cha-heun went pale again.
Ji Hye-han came close, gave Cha-heun a brief nod of his head, then fixed his gaze on Baek Yu-gyeong — who was plastered right behind him — and stepped a little closer.
“Baek Yu-gyeong.”
“Hmm? What’s the matter, Hye-han?”
The moment he arrived, Hye-han grabbed Yu-gyeong by the collar and glared at him with a look that could cut.
“Ji Hye-han — !”
Cha-heun startled and moved to intervene, but Yu-gyeong naturally gave him a small nudge back and smiled.
“Hyung, it’s fine. More importantly — what’s going on, Hye-han? You startled my hyung. If he gets scared away from me, are you going to take responsibility?”
At Baek Yu-gyeong’s smooth, unhurried question, Ji Hye-han’s brow drew together.
“‘What’s going on?’ You do something like that and you have the nerve to act calm about it?”
As Hye-han’s voice started to rise, Cha-heun quickly stepped in.
“What happened?”
Ji Hye-han said nothing, his expression twisting into a scowl.
“…….”
“Baek Yu-gyeong, what did you do?”
When Hye-han refused to answer, he tried the other side — and Baek Yu-gyeong’s expression went stiff. Yu-gyeong’s bright demeanor from just a moment ago had vanished completely; his eyes were wide and fixed on Cha-heun with an unblinking stare.
Just seconds ago he’d seemed to be in the middle of a not-quite-argument with Ji Hye-han, but now it was like Hye-han didn’t even exist — his gaze refused to leave Cha-heun’s face. Those round, cream-colored eyes were almost unsettling.
Don’t look at me like that. It’s obviously you who caused trouble and Hye-han who came to deal with it.
Cha-heun gave a single nod, then turned his attention back to Hye-han.
“…So then, Hye-han — what happened?”
Ji Hye-han’s brow furrowed, then finally he let out a sigh and answered.
“…Baek Yu-gyeong signed my name down for every single sports event on the athletics festival participant list and then disappeared.”
At something so entirely beyond anything he’d imagined, Cha-heun’s jaw dropped.
