Chapter 45
I quickly scanned the lobby. It was eerily quiet—only Yu Hyunjae and I were there, and no matter where I looked, I couldn’t sense anyone watching us.
“What’s going on?”
Hyunjae looked at me, confused. I checked the message again. It read as if someone had been watching me. Had Han Jaemin planted someone to keep an eye on me? I racked my brain, trying to recall if anyone suspicious had crossed my path. Faces of people I barely remembered flashed through my mind, but no one stood out.
[What the hell are you talking about?]
A reply came almost immediately.
[Han Jaemin: ㅎㅎ Looks like the selection test is over.]
[Han Jaemin: You and Hyunjae look close.]
“Chanhee.”
Hyunjae sensed something was off and stepped closer. I put my phone away and forced a smile.
“Let’s go.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No.”
Hyunjae’s expression hardened. I could tell something was bothering him, but I deliberately avoided looking at him and walked ahead. If I saw his face, I knew my resolve would weaken.
“It’s nothing.”
Hyunjae didn’t say anything and slowly followed me. Ever since I decided to maintain my relationship with Hyunjae, I had been thinking about how to handle Han Jaemin, but I hadn’t expected things to escalate this quickly.
***
The next day, I had to go to school as usual, even after the selection test. I hadn’t slept a wink all night, and my face felt rough as I entered the classroom. I could feel a few students glancing at me and whispering—probably about yesterday’s incident. I didn’t have the energy to care.
As soon as I sat down, I slumped over my desk, using it as a pillow. The noisy chatter of the classroom faded into the background. It was possible that Han Jaemin had just been testing me with his message, but I had a strange feeling that he had assigned someone to watch me. If that were true, who could it be?
“Chanhee!”
Someone lightly tapped my shoulder. The voice was familiar by now. I lifted my head to greet them but hesitated for a moment.
Hankyul was looking at me with his usual bright expression—an almost annoyingly harmless and innocent face, untouched by misfortune, trials, or fate.
“You look like you’re in bad shape.”
“Do I?”
I rubbed my tired face with my hand and looked ahead. No, it couldn’t be. Suspecting people like this wasn’t healthy.
“Did you do well on the selection test? Not that you’d do badly.”
“Just like usual.”
“Wow. If anyone else said that, I’d think they were being a jerk.”
Hankyul dropped his bag and plopped down in the seat next to me.
“I messed up halfway through. I mean, that thing looked way grosser in person than in the videos. Who knew it’d be that different?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
I forced myself to push aside my tangled thoughts and opened my textbook. I wished for a quieter environment, but as if mocking me, someone behind me started talking loudly.
“Our grade has three first-grades.”
“Huh? Three?”
The selection test results were supposed to be announced at the end of the school day. It wasn’t unusual for impatient students to spread rumors like this.
“But we only had two first-grades before.”
“Who got promoted?”
“Damn, that’s intense.”
The gullible kids were already treating it as fact. Even if it were true, it was obvious who the third first-grade was. I just wanted class to start so this annoying chatter would disappear.
“Chanhee.”
Hankyul called my name again. I slowly turned to face him.
“Who do you think it is? The third first-grade.”
“Even if it’s true, what’s the point of knowing?”
“One of them has to be you, right?”
“I don’t know. How would I?”
“You do know.”
Hankyul whispered. I furrowed my brows at him.
“I don’t know.”
“Why not?”
Hankyul spoke slowly, with emphasis.
“Because it’s you, Chanhee.”
***
Time flew by, and before I knew it, fourth period was over. Ignoring Hankyul’s invitation to lunch, I slumped over my desk again. Hankyul tried talking to me a few times before finally leaving the classroom alone.
I kept repeating to myself that Hankyul’s words this morning had been harmless—no malice intended. Whether the reason was biased or justified, everyone would assume I was a first-grade. Hankyul’s reaction was natural. Still, I couldn’t stop wondering if he was Han Jaemin’s planted spy.
“Chanhee.”
This time, the voice was low and soft. I deliberately stayed slumped over for a few seconds before slowly sitting up. Yu Hyunjae stood beside me, his school uniform neatly in place.
“Not feeling well?”
“No.”
“Then why aren’t you eating?”
“I just… don’t have an appetite.”
I snapped back without meaning to. Hyunjae ignored it and pulled out the chair next to me, sitting down slowly.
“Aren’t you hungry, though? You didn’t eat breakfast either.”
“I’m just tired.”
I kept avoiding Hyunjae’s gaze. Deep down, it was a subtle defensive instinct. If Hyunjae’s affectionate behavior toward me wasn’t his own will but something forced upon him, then I was still a bad person to him. Like a witch who loses her prince’s love the moment the potion’s effect wears off, I wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjae suddenly turned cold toward me again.
“Are you still upset about what happened after the selection test yesterday?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I asked a selfish question.
“Do you think that too?”
“Think what?”
“That I’m only maintaining my first-grade status because of my father.”
Hyunjae rested his elbow on the desk and propped his chin up, looking at me before letting out a soft laugh.
“So that’s what’s been bothering you?”
“Answer me.”
“No.”
Hyunjae replied firmly. I unconsciously released the tension in my fingertips.
“You were always strong.”
“Even without my father?”
“Yeah. Even without him.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Just…”
Hyunjae continued, still smiling.
“I just feel like that’s how it has to be.”
“…….”
“You’d be you, no matter what.”
I covered my face with my hands. I still wasn’t immune to moments like this.
“You really say things like that…”
Hyunjae’s hand slowly reached for my face. He began gently fixing my messy bangs. The unfamiliar yet comforting touch made me secretly wish this moment could last forever.
“Tell me if something like this happens again.”
After smoothing out my bangs a few times, Hyunjae slowly pulled his hand away.
“I want to be on your side every time.”
It was the most reassuring thing he could have said. But I knew all too well that my situation made it impossible to simply smile and say, I will. His words felt like an unattainable dream.
“Then… could you forgive me no matter what I do to you?”
“What I do?”
“Yeah. Not exactly a mistake, but… if an unavoidable situation comes up.”
Would you still smooth my hair like this and tell me you want to be on my side? I swallowed the rest of my words and hung my head. Right now, everything felt like my fault.
“No.”
I shook my head. The more I thought about it, the more selfish the question seemed.
“That was a ridiculous thing to ask.”
“What?”
“Asking for forgiveness after doing something wrong doesn’t make sense.”
“Why not?”
Hyunjae asked sincerely. I answered just as seriously.
“How can you be forgiven for doing something wrong?”
“You are forgiven.”
“Huh?”
“People live by forgiving each other’s mistakes.”
I blinked, speechless. He was right. People didn’t carry every wrongdoing in their hearts forever. They sincerely repented, were forgiven, and sometimes paid the price to earn that forgiveness little by little.
So then… the wrongs I had done to Hyunjae—or rather, the wrongs the past Yu Chanhee had committed against him—could they truly be forgiven? I wanted to confess everything to Hyunjae right then and ask, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Before I could finish my thought, my phone vibrated on the desk. I checked the sender. If it had been Han Jaemin or Cha Suhyun, I would have thrown the phone away. But the message was from an “Unknown” sender. I slowly picked up my phone and opened the message.
[Unknown: I feel sick.]
[Unknown: I said I’d kill you someday.]
[Unknown: Does asking for forgiveness even make sense?]
I looked around, my face pale. The empty classroom, with only Hyunjae and me left, was unnaturally quiet—just like yesterday when I received Han Jaemin’s message. I slowly turned to face Hyunjae. He was watching me with concern.
Who could it be? Who?
