MY 10

“No, no, the snack bar.”

“Alright.”

Won Wooje, shaking his head from side to side, jumped to his feet. Then, as if it were only natural, he held out his hand. Han Seolwoo stared at it for a moment before grabbing his arm and pulling himself up with force. Won Wooje stepped in quickly and supported him, naturally wrapping an arm around his back.

As he moved his steps carefully, Han Seolwoo nibbled on his lip. He found himself thinking about the crutches he had left at home for no reason.

Hansan High School was full of energetic teenage male students. This place, where there was never a quiet day, was noisy and complicated every single day—whether it was during breaks, free time, lunch, or the time for coming to and leaving school. This was even more so for Han Seolwoo, who usually disliked loud environments.

Recently, Won Wooje had become a loyal knight protecting a fragile princess amidst that distracting crowd. It was due to an overprotectiveness that had grown even more severe since Han Seolwoo injured his leg. The other kids were busy whispering, half-joking and half-serious, surprised by his time-bomb-like, fervent loyalty.

They said Won Wooje’s father was the right-hand man of a mob boss, or that the boss was actually Han Seolwoo’s father. They presumed to guess their private lives, reciting string after string of theories about the correlation between major corporations and gangs these days, and how the inheritance worked this way or that.

Han Seolwoo suffered a headache amidst the rumors that were swelling up without form. It felt like Won Wooje’s “detonation buttons” had increased from one to about ten since his injury. Of course, that was not necessarily just a feeling.

“Do you not have eyes?”

“Ah, sorry.”

“Ah, sorry?”

“…I didn’t see you. Sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah, watch where you’re going. Friend.”

Han Seolwoo felt as if he were walking on thin ice every day. In particular, the cutthroat and crowded lunch hour, where there was no room to breathe, was the most terrible.

Won Wooje carried Han Seolwoo’s meal tray, carried his bag, carried his workbooks, and carried Han Seolwoo himself. He would buy him those hard-to-find PoXmon bread rolls, and sometimes he would even stick a straw into a strawberry milk out of the blue and shove it right up to his lips. When he unwrapped MaXchu candies and put them in his mouth by hand, Han Seolwoo struggled to turn his gaze away while minding the eyes of those around them.

He acted as if Han Seolwoo getting hurt was his own fault. Although the extreme treatment he had never received before was embarrassing, he did not dislike it. This was because Won Wooje, who was usually busy being nonchalant even if he looked after him well, had never acted this affectionately.

Their placid daily life was like a calm water surface. It looked peaceful at a glance, but the surface rippled at even a small breeze. Most of the reasons were due to Bae Junhyeok.

Won Wooje would act mean to him whenever he had the chance. Bae Junhyeok would make a troubled face or laugh it off, but every time that happened, Han Seolwoo became uncomfortable.

The reason was simple. It was because Bae Junhyeok looked like he liked Won Wooje. When he stood up, sat down, walked, or ran, his gaze was always directed toward Won Wooje. Most decisively, it was impossible not to know when seeing his expression brighten at Won Wooje’s call.

Won Wooje. Won Wooje, who was handsome, tall, and had a good build. Won Wooje, who was good at games, good at soccer, and didn’t have a sport he couldn’t do, was also unexpectedly good at singing.

A cheerful personality with an overflowing sense of playfulness, a loyal “man’s man.” As long as he didn’t throw a fit with his temperamental nature, there was no better kid to have as a friend. As much as he was cursed at, he was popular among both males and females. The boys found Won Wooje difficult to deal with, yet they wanted to be close to him. The only thing he couldn’t do was study; the only thing he didn’t have was a good personality.

For these reasons, Bae Junhyeok did not seem to harbor any animosity toward Won Wooje. He would snicker and feel entertained when Won Wooje made petty jokes or played trivial pranks.

Han Seolwoo was bothered. If he had hated Won Wooje instead, he would have felt at least a bit better. Because it was obvious he liked him, it felt even more that way. Since there was no way the thoughtless Won Wooje would ever realize those feelings.

However, that did not mean there was anything he could do. He didn’t want to bring up Bae Junhyeok and irritate Won Wooje for no reason.

Well, as we live like this, it will be forgotten. Since there aren’t just one or two kids living together, time will solve it. Repeating to himself not to care, he focused on other things. There were plenty of people to play with besides Won Wooje anyway. Since the main group of Grade 11, Class 3 consisted of six people in total.

Park Seongbin, Kim Chanju, Choi Sangyoon, Bae Junhyeok, and then Won Wooje and Han Seolwoo.

They were in a relationship that didn’t quite fit descriptors like close friends or best friends, yet they were on good terms without being awkward. As soon as they were in the same class at the start of the semester, they naturally flocked around Won Wooje and Han Seolwoo, but among them, both Won Wooje and Han Seolwoo had no one else they were particularly special with.

“This is a problem about applying functions.”

“What’s that.”

Han Seolwoo was helping Won Wooje with his math homework. It was for the purpose of planting a minimum of common sense in someone who had no interest in studying.

“Yeah, you have to choose the one where the asymptote and range are correctly paired from the options.”

“What’s an asymptote.”

“An asymptote? Hmm…”

Han Seolwoo, lost in thought, drew a graph on the paper with a scratching sound.

“On this curve that extends infinitely like this, a moving point on the curve gets farther from the origin. When we consider the distance between this point and a certain fixed straight line to converge to zero, we call that fixed line the asymptote.”

“…”

“Is it hard?”

At the clarifying question, Won Wooje made an indifferent face. Glancing at his reaction, Han Seolwoo tactfully moved on to the next problem.

“Then let’s do this first. Rational numbers and irreducible fractions…”

“What’s a rational lumbers.”

“Uh, first, a fraction…”

“What’s a furst fracshun.”

His insincere pronunciation was completely mangled. Suddenly realizing it was a joke, Han Seolwoo furrowed his brow. Only then, having gained Han Seolwoo’s attention, did Won Wooje burst into a snicker.

“…Die, go out and die. Just die. Drop dead.”

With a cold, serious face, he hit Won Wooje with his notebook. Won Wooje, hunching his shoulders, dodged while laughing out loud. It seemed he had no intention of doing homework or anything from the start.

“Ah! Isn’t your language a bit harsh just because I don’t know a few fractions, Teacher?”

Won Wooje said while rubbing his stinging back. Han Seolwoo, with an annoyed face, closed the notebook with a loud sound.

“Your level is the harshest.”

“Wow, look at that bluntness. I’m so hurt I can’t concentrate at all. I’m just gonna give up on the exams.”

Won Wooje flopped down on the desk. Han Seolwoo, staring at him in disbelief, let out a sigh.

As if there was ever a time he didn’t give up. He was already in his second year; did he really have no intention of studying? He felt hopeless about his future path, wondering what he planned to do.

A shadow cast under his long eyelashes. After hesitating with his lips for a moment, Han Seolwoo swept his hair up.

“…Are you not going to college?”

At the sudden question, Won Wooje raised his head. He had a face that asked why he was asking something so obvious.

“Why would I go to college.”

“Are you really not going?”

“What is that. How do you even do that.”

“Ah, geez, stop joking!”

Han Seolwoo got annoyed. Won Wooje, raising his upper body with a grin, stretched.

“Ah— why would I go. Do I really have to slave away for a total of 12 years—6 years of elementary, 3 years of middle, and 3 years of high school—and then keep studying until I’m twenty? Is this the Joseon Dynasty or something?”

Han Seolwoo fell silent as he watched him speak while even counting on his fingers.

“Just watch, even if you study like crazy and go to college, it’s obvious you’ll just end up drinking and smoking. Don’t they give everyone a diploma these days as long as you pay? A person like me is wisely saving time.”

Won Wooje, who had been spouting eloquent words, flopped back down again.

“Ah, so damn smart. Won Wooje, you admirable brat.”

Han Seolwoo, who had been silently listening to the nonsense, lowered his eyes.

“…You have to go with me.”

“What?”

“I’m asking if you’re not going with me, to Korea University.”

Han Seolwoo let out another sigh.

There was nothing wrong with what he said. But at the very least, those words did not apply to Won Wooje. It was a good thing that middle and high schools were standardized; if they weren’t, they wouldn’t have even been able to dream of being in the same school.

Since they had been stuck together from kindergarten through elementary, middle, and high school, he couldn’t imagine living apart. There were only two years left now, and the future that had felt vague seemed to have arrived right in front of him.

“Eh? How could I go there?”

“…”

“Are you sick somewhere?”

Won Wooje touched Han Seolwoo’s forehead with a serious face. Han Seolwoo still didn’t look at him, maintaining a cold expression.

“Hmm. Then, seeing my baby’s face…”

“…”

“Should Wooje at least work a part-time job at the Korea University convenience store?”

Won Wooje, propping his head on his hand, gave a slight smile and acted nonchalant again.

“Are you crazy?”

Han Seolwoo frowned in disgust. Won Wooje, who had been snickering, slid down and flopped onto the desk again.

“Ah, now that I think about it, it is a bit over the top. When I think about you drinking and hanging out with bastards you’ve never seen before without me… I think I’d get a bit pissed off.”

“…What do you mean drinking? You go to college to play? You have to go and study even harder to graduate.”

Han Seolwoo crinkled his eyes at the incomprehensible talk. At that sight, Won Wooje looked even more appalled.

“Ugh, spoken like a true moralist. You’re too much, really too much.”

“…”