How much time had passed — around the point where Kang I-hyeon’s house was no longer visible, Shin Chae-il opened his mouth.
“When you’re going to stay out, let me know in advance. Even when you’re staying at a friend’s place, you should know your parents worry.”
“…Yes….”
Shin Chae-il kept his eyes on the road ahead as he drove. The car was filled with nothing — not even the common sound of music or news — only a blank silence that seemed to reflect Shin Chae-il’s nature perfectly.
“Was that a friend’s house?”
“Yes. Kang I-hyeon — a friend I made a few days ago.”
“Low grades, nothing particularly outstanding about him either…. He seems like someone who’s all surface and no substance. Not a very good friend, it seems.”
The high-handed words fell on Cha-heun. For a moment he started to say something — but in the end closed his mouth.
…There was probably no reason to pick a fight with Shin Chae-il.
From what he’d vaguely heard, Shin Chae-il was someone remarkable enough to be mentioned as a candidate for Deputy Prosecutor General. Come to think of it, a father taking interest in his son’s social circles wasn’t unusual at all. Some parents with high standards disapproved of sons who made friends with poor students — especially one in the prosecution, that went without saying.
Ah, I see. So that’s why he came running when he heard about the sleepover?
Cha-heun neither agreed nor disagreed, and quietly turned to look out the window.
Following Shin Chae-il home, he stepped through the front door — and as soon as he entered, he could make out someone standing behind the inner door at the far end of the long entryway.
…Shin Jae-heon?
Wondering if the guy was actually waiting there to beat him up, Cha-heun flinched and stepped back — and Shin Chae-il, walking in from behind, gripped his shoulder firmly once and let go, then stepped forward first to open the inner door and walk in.
“…A, Father.”
“Shin Jae-heon. Get down on the floor.”
Having no idea how to read the situation, Cha-heun was looking around in confusion when Shin Chae-il picked up a golf club that had been leaning against the sofa. Cha-heun’s heart lurched and he rushed toward Chae-il.
“W-wait, Father.”
“Shin Cha-heun, go to your room.”
“No, I — ah….”
“Shin Cha-heun.”
“…….”
His body went rigid.
What is this feeling?
Those frost-sharp black eyes had not lost their edge with the passing years — they moved with the vitality of a predator. The air around him grew heavy and thick, making it hard even to breathe. A scent like the air of a winter dawn hung at the edges of his nose, cold enough to be frightening.
Perhaps it was that broad, solid frame that hadn’t softened with age. From this man there came something beyond the ordinary weight of a middle-aged person — the particular pressure that only a seasoned, experienced man could carry.
Cha-heun exhaled a short, held breath, squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, and looked steadily at Shin Chae-il.
…Is going inside the right thing to do here? This is his child — parental discipline?
Shin Chae-il seemed to be a strict father who cared a great deal about household order. He’d come out to fetch a son who’d been about to stay the night elsewhere, and the moment he’d heard about a fight between brothers, he’d intervened immediately — enough to reach for a club.
…Still, a golf club is a bit much, isn’t it? Getting hit with that would genuinely hurt.
Feeling like he might break into a cold sweat, Cha-heun kept stealing glances at the golf club gripped in Chae-il’s hand — and finally opened his mouth.
“Then. …Then I’ll get hit too.”
“…What?”
“We fought together, so…it’s strange if only my — only he gets hit.”
Shin Chae-il stared at him with an odd expression.
It was the look of someone watching something inexplicable.
A minute stretched on like ten — then Shin Chae-il leaned the golf club against the sofa.
He seemed to study Cha-heun once more for a moment, then told Jae-heon to conduct himself with dignity, and left again, picking up his coat on the way out.
The moment Shin Chae-il was gone, the heaviness that had filled the air seemed to lift just slightly. Only then did Cha-heun let out a breath, and stared after the direction he’d disappeared.
Surely not…. He came back because of Shin Cha-heun, even when there’s things going on outside….
He’d picked up bits of phone conversations — apparently there was a major case big enough to make the news lately, and the Eastern District Prosecutors’ Office was very busy.
The man was its Chief Prosecutor on top of everything else, so it went without saying how occupied he must be.
…And in the middle of all that, he’d come home because of Shin Cha-heun alone — looking at it this way, he wasn’t such a bad father. At least not to Shin Cha-heun.
“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?”
Around the time that thought wrapped up, a sharp voice cut through the quiet. Cha-heun turned his head calmly.
Shin Jae-heon was glaring at him with his face screwed up tight.
“…What do you mean.”
“Playing the good son now that Father’s watching? After you’re the one who went and tattled.”
Cha-heun looked at Shin Jae-heon’s brazen, blame-shifting attitude and let out a sigh. He’d stepped in to keep the kid from getting hit with a golf club, and yet there wasn’t a trace of gratitude or remorse anywhere on him.
I’m the idiot for worrying. Who was worrying about whom, exactly.
Shin Cha-heun shot him a sideways glance and disappeared into his room.
The next morning, the moment he arrived at school and spotted Kang I-hyeon already at his seat, Cha-heun walked straight over and set his bag down in the seat beside him.
“…Hey. You alright?”
He’d come over intending to apologize for leaving like that the day before — so the fact that I-hyeon was the first one to ask after him was odd. Cha-heun tilted his head.
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“Nothing, it’s just. Your father…. He didn’t seem to like me very much.”
Kang I-hyeon glanced at him and thought back to Shin Chae-il, who had passed by.
A black sedan parked in a quiet, affluent residential street — and the man who’d stood before it had been entirely out of place.
The marks of time had settled into every corner of his face, yet his appearance was refined. Unlike Cha-heun, he had a broad chest and a large frame that made him look like an athlete — his father had given off the kind of impression you’d only expect to find in a film.
…The expression.
Beneath the polished exterior, his eyes had carried an inexplicable edge of hostility. Technically it had been close to a blank expression — but how to describe the emotion it held? Shin Chae-il had looked at him the way someone looks at something they hold in contempt, then taken Cha-heun and left — as if proximity to him might spread something contagious.
Kang I-hyeon rubbed the back of his head, vaguely embarrassed.
Reading I-hyeon’s reaction, Cha-heun recalled what Shin Chae-il had said the night before, turned it over in his mind, then spoke.
“Ah. That. He probably doesn’t like you because of your grades. Your name doesn’t show up in the top rankings school-wide. He cares about that sort of thing.”
“…Ah. …That tracks.”
“Yeah. But my grades are bad too.”
Cha-heun said that and then combed through his memory. Shin Cha-heun’s report cards in his recollections were full of 8s and 7s. That is to say — grade levels 7 and 8. Not all that different from Cha-heun’s own high school grades in his original life.
Why does this kid have grades like this if he’s not even in athletics.
Cha-heun’s eye twitched. He’d suddenly thought that from Shin Chae-il’s perspective — a prosecutor — it made sense he’d dislike his son hanging around with other poor students.
Come to think of it, that bastard Shin Jae-heon, all delinquent as he is, goes to a decent university.
Considering he attended what was arguably the best private university in the country, he was head and shoulders above Shin Cha-heun academically. Even the department seemed to be one of the more prestigious ones in the humanities — Shin Jae-heon was apparently quite the student.
…In that case, should I be studying, or just let things stay as they are.
He couldn’t decide whether to feel relieved that he didn’t have to squeeze out decent grades with a brain that wasn’t cut out for it, or whether to feel sorry as an adult watching a student perform like this.
Cha-heun finished his thoughts and spoke to I-hyeon, who was watching him with a slightly dazed look.
“So you can imagine how much he hates seeing bad students hanging around each other…. By that logic you’re actually better than me. You at least do kendo. I can’t even do that.”
“Pfft.”
Kang I-hyeon let out a short laugh and shook his head a little. Then, as if the events of the day before had come back to him, he gave a rueful laugh and said:
“Shin Cha-heun, my mom really liked you though.”
“I like your mom too. Can I come over again sometime?”
“Hey, don’t say things like that….”
“I know. Let me know if there’s ever a chance.”
“Seriously, don’t say things like that. It sounds way too sincere.”
“…….”
Cha-heun gave him a meaningful smile and held I-hyeon’s gaze — and Kang I-hyeon hooked his head under his arm and squeezed.
During gym class, the third-year gym teacher had an issue and had to step out, so they were told to combine with the second-years and freely form teams for either footvolley or dodgeball. It seemed like the boys would split off for footvolley and the girls for dodgeball. He’d expected Kang I-hyeon to be the first one bolting out the door in excitement — but looking around, I-hyeon was nowhere at his desk.
Now that I think about it, he’s never there during gym class either. …Or maybe he has some arrangement to use it as personal training time?
A reasonable enough guess. That thought passed through his mind briefly — and with things as they were, Cha-heun used the excuse of feeling unwell and quietly slipped to the back.
First of all, it was because he couldn’t play footvolley. Second, it was because he’d realized Shin Cha-heun’s body wasn’t particularly sturdy. It had been the day he’d knocked those delinquents down — the next day, he remembered aches surfacing all over his body.
The body is just physically weak.
It wasn’t unbearable, but there was no reason to put himself through unnecessary suffering. The problem seemed to be that the frame itself was slender and not particularly robust.
He was about to sit down casually on the tiered bleachers that lined the edge of the school grounds — when someone grabbed him around the waist and lifted.
“Whoa, what the—”
Shin Cha-heun jolted at the sensation of his body leaving the ground and whipped his head around.
Lately there had been so many people bumping into him from behind after swarming around him in groups that he’d thought it might be them again. It had been oddly noticeable, especially the second-year girls who’d been gathering near the third-year classrooms and running into him from behind — he’d been quietly curious about why.
…Even allowing for the fact that they’re at the age where everything is exciting…. They’re going to end up falling at this rate.
Just the other day he’d even caught one girl who had nearly toppled over — he’d been worried one of them might actually get hurt.
Someday when I get back I’ll have to think of a way to keep the kids from running in the halls. Isn’t that also part of what a teacher is supposed to do?
Well — I’m probably dead in the real world, aren’t I.
…Maybe it was because he was alive here and it didn’t feel real — but the thought that his original self might be dead suddenly made the air feel tight in his chest.
Shaking himself out of the daze, he turned to see who had grabbed him around the waist — and it was none other than Baek Yu-gyeong. Yu-gyeong had the same bright face as always, grinning and giving him a little wave.
“…Baek Yu-gyeong?”
