Chapter 57
Han Jaemin’s words clung to me long after we parted. The me I don’t know. Was that the me before I became me? If so, what did his words even mean? A cold dread slithered through me, then settled like ice in my gut. There was no way to know. No way to find out. No way to prove anything.
“Chanhee.”
Yu Hyunjae’s cautious voice pulled me back. I looked up and met his gaze across from me.
“Still not feeling well?”
“No.”
“……”
“Saying that just means you’re lying, and you know it.”
He let out a quiet laugh. I exhaled and closed the textbook in front of me. It was absurd—going to school, sitting through classes, eating, talking—yet life kept moving. In the end, I’d decided to go along with what Yu Hyunjae wanted.
“Hey, guys.”
Go Hankyul squeezed in between Yu Hyunjae and me, his voice hesitant. I forced what I hoped was a natural expression, though my guard never dropped.
“Did you hear about that?”
Go Hankyul’s face turned unnaturally serious. I frowned. What was he even talking about? He hesitated, then blurted it out.
“Our class’s tug-of-war preliminaries. Against Class 9.”
I blinked, glancing between Yu Hyunjae and Go Hankyul, confused.
“Class 9. You know, the one full of kids prepping for sports college.”
“Ah.”
For a moment, I’d forgotten school life wasn’t just about commuting and sitting through classes. I tried to look troubled as I met Go Hankyul’s gaze.
“That’s bad news.”
“Right? The prize money’s huge this time, and apparently, people from all over are coming to watch. Plus, our class is basically public enemy number one to the other classes.”
“Why?”
“You serious?”
Go Hankyul’s eyes widened.
“We’ve got two first-grades.”
“So what? They don’t let you use mana in school sports festivals anyway.”
“Yeah, but just having you two in the same class makes everyone nervous.”
It made sense. I’d planned to skip the sports festival entirely, using some excuse about family matters. Before I could speak, Yu Hyunjae cut in, his voice quick.
“Perfect. Chanhee’s really good at sports.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. He’s got amazing athletic talent. He used to represent his class in soccer back in elementary school.”
“Hey, Hyunjae…”
“Well, it is surprising. I always figured you were more of a brains-over-brawn type, Chanhee.”
Go Hankyul nailed my image in one sentence. It was true—I usually breezed through combat drills and tests without much effort, relying more on raw mana than physical ability. Or so I’d thought, until Yu Hyunjae mentioned this “natural athletic talent” for the first time.
“I haven’t really done much besides the basic training in the special class lately.”
“Dude, even basic training feels like it’s gonna kill me.”
“Anyway—”
Yu Hyunjae, uncharacteristically, cut off Go Hankyul and spoke urgently. I shot him a puzzled look, but he ignored it.
“Chanhee and I are gonna go all out that day, so don’t worry, okay?”
“Damn, that’s reassuring as hell.”
“Right, Chanhee?”
Yu Hyunjae finally turned to me, lifting the corner of his mouth in a smile. I could see right through his attempt to keep me from backing out, but I played along. If this was what he wanted, I had no intention of running.
“Shouldn’t be too hard to take down a few sports college wannabes.”
A few of our classmates, eavesdropping, chimed in with oohs and aahs. I narrowed my eyes at Yu Hyunjae, who just shrugged as if to say, What?
***
Middle and high school sports festivals had their quirks. First, they focused on pure physical contests where mana was off-limits. Second, this gave ordinary students—and even low-ranked special class students—a chance to showcase their raw athletic ability. In a world where rankers existed, those who couldn’t use mana were socially limited to roles like athletes, lower-tier police, or military personnel. Among those, athletes held the highest social status, and various associations scoured middle and high school sports festivals to scout the most exceptional non-ranker talents.
I stared at the rope laid out in front of me, briefly debating my options. Even if I subtly leaked a bit of mana, no one would notice—and because of that, the participants were absurdly on edge.
“You were just debating whether to use mana, weren’t you, Yu Chanhee?”
Go Hankyul, standing behind me, whispered as if he’d read my mind.
“How’d you know?”
“Just a hunch.”
I swallowed the question of since when did you know me so well and slowly gripped the rope as the referee instructed. It was probably better not to use mana at all and avoid unnecessary trouble. The tall, strong-looking guy in front of me—Yu Hyunjae—suddenly turned around.
“Fighting.”
He mouthed the words so quietly only I could hear, and I smiled faintly in response. The whistle blew, and the tug-of-war began. It had been so long since I’d used pure physical strength that it felt strange, almost foreign. Shouts erupted from all around.
There was something undeniably thrilling about a sports festival where victory depended solely on raw physicality, not mana or skill. It made sense why the Olympics still existed, even in a world of rankers. As the preliminary round ended and I panted for breath, Go Hankyul clapped me on the back.
“First time I’ve ever seen you like this.”
I rarely exerted myself enough at school to be out of breath, so of course no one had seen me like this before.
“You seem… really human.”
Go Hankyul laughed as he said it. Human? What did that even mean? I almost asked, but the next team’s match started, and we scattered.
“Too bad we lost.”
Yu Hyunjae approached me, striking up a conversation. I brushed the dirt off my hands and answered with a laugh instead of words.
“Thanks for participating with me.”
“What’s there to thank? It’s not like we had a choice.”
“Still.”
Yu Hyunjae dusted the dirt off my shoulder.
“I really wanted to do something normal like this… with you.”
“With me?”
“Yeah. With you.”
Human. Normal. I couldn’t even begin to guess what those words meant anymore. Intellectually, I understood, but in my warped reality, I doubted anything “normal” could ever feel normal again. As if reading my thoughts, Yu Hyunjae suddenly slung an arm around my shoulder.
“What’s this all of a sudden?”
“Wanna go get some tteokbokki after?”
“Where’d that come from?”
“You like it, don’t you?”
You did. Not me. I bit back the words and just nodded. Walking with my shoulder trapped under his arm, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
“How did you know I like tteokbokki?”
“Huh?”
Yu Hyunjae looked down at me, confused.
“I don’t even know what foods you like.”
“Why wouldn’t I? Obviously…”
He trailed off, tilting his head as if realizing how odd that was.
“I thought I heard it somewhere.”
“Heard what…?”
“Maybe I mixed you up with someone else. Must’ve been a mistake.”
Yu Hyunjae answered casually. I wondered if fragments of his past life—our past life—were floating around in his mind like broken shards, but there was no way to confront him about it, not when he seemed utterly unaware. And even if his memories did return, what good would it do? It wouldn’t change my fate. If anything, watching him suffer more than he already did was the last thing I wanted. I quietly resumed walking, tucked under his arm.
“So, we going or not?”
“……Fine.”
We trudged back to the classroom, just two ordinary friends with arms slung over each other’s shoulders. Only then did I realize how perfectly normal this scene would look to anyone else. Hey, Chanhee. Remember that place in front of our middle school? The tteokbokki there was amazing. You remember, right? Or is that just another one of my false memories? The garden behind the classroom was eerily quiet and beautiful. All I wanted was to fall asleep in the warm shelter of Yu Hyunjae’s arms.
