The thin voice of the Social Studies class began to fade in my thoughts. I stroked my chin with my fingers and looked up at the over thirty heads in front of me. Where do I stand in this hierarchy? Sometimes, these absurd numbers seemed more important than academic grades in this square space.
Now, Go Yohan was undoubtedly at the top of the hierarchy. Previously, Han Junwoo and Go Yohan were called the leading pair, but in truth, Han Junwoo held a higher position, albeit implicitly. The dark-skinned Han Junwoo was the epitome of the sought-after man, while the somewhat odd Go Yohan was unpredictable and oddly saintly in a way.
I had never been part of that hierarchy. Kim Minho’s words were not wrong. The most important things were strength, money, and an undeniable presence.
As usual, those with only strength were treated as futureless trash, those with only money became communal wallets, and those with merely good looks were treated like mere figureheads. Sometimes, as I had experienced, they were belittled for their arrogant looks.
Rationally assessing, the resources I possessed were high averages, not unique abilities. I managed to climb to that position purely through my keen senses and thanks to Han Junwoo. Being Han Junwoo’s close friend was sometimes more useful than any skill.
But Han Junwoo had fallen. Along with him, Hong Hwi-jun, Choi Donghwan, and Park Dongchul’s statuses plummeted. Kim Minho made sure today that I couldn’t escape that assessment either. Yet, I hadn’t hit rock bottom like those three, nor was I ignored. It was the same as before because I was close to Go Yohan.
I turned my head and looked at Go Yohan, who had started sitting next to me at some point and now seemed permanently placed there. Seemingly focused on the class, he occasionally blinked slowly, whether from sleepiness or something else. Looking at Go Yohan, the corners of my mouth gradually lifted. I rested my chin on my hand and tapped my cheek with my fingers.
Yes, the most reliable methods are often the most classic, like Kim Minho marking his territory with a loud voice at the back of the classroom.
I turned my head forward.
“Ah, shit…”
Annoyingly, Han Taesan was turning his head to look at me. It couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. As our eyes met, he acted like he was checking the time. Bullshit. His long neck covered with unkempt hair was visible, and a bluish bruise peeked out between his collar and hair.
Seeing the marks of violence immediately soured my mood, and I aggressively flipped through the textbook. The sound of the pages tearing almost helped relieve my stress. Good. I refocused on the class. The thin voice of Social Studies gradually echoed louder in my ears.
One thing that hadn’t changed since the incident was lunchtime. Five minutes before the class ended, Kim Minho threw a crumpled note at Go Yohan. The note flew to me instead. What luck. Why did I have to read it first?
I unfolded the note nonchalantly.
<Yohan Yohan, head straight to the cafeteria after class, ok?>
If this had been before third period, I would have read it without any issue, but now it seemed particularly distasteful.
“……”
I handed the note to Go Yohan without crumpling it. Go Yohan glanced at the paper and then, as if uninterested, tossed it to the floor. A clear rejection. But Kim Minho, unable to give up, grabbed the door and yelled just before leaving the classroom.
“Go Yohan! Let’s go! Run!”
Go Yohan’s response to Kim Minho was just a raised middle finger.
“Run yourself, pig.”
Kim Minho, momentarily speechless, soon spouted curses and hurried towards the cafeteria. Park Dongchul rushed after him.
“Hey! Come with! Ah, shit. These bastards, asked them to wait and they don’t even wait……”
Thus, the shared meals between me and Go Yohan continued as usual. There must have been similar days before today. If Go Yohan had followed Kim Minho, I would probably be eating alone, or maybe I would be chasing after them pitifully, or perhaps secretly nibbling on bread somewhere. Above all, it was most annoying that I didn’t realize I was heading towards the bottom without knowing.
Arriving at the cafeteria, I, appreciating Go Yohan’s loyalty, placed a large rolled omelet on his tray.
“……?”
While drinking water, Go Yohan looked at me with his eyes. His gaze dropped to the omelet and then up to me. I too communicated with my eyes, a bribe asking for his support. I stretched my lips into a long smile. Knowing what I meant, he bowed his head to meet my gaze and mimicked my smile.
He casually put down his cup without bothering to clean up the water spilling under the table. It was deliberate. Go Yohan always acted like he wanted to annoy someone. The spilled water thoroughly soaked the floor.
I waited for the right moment. I had a very good idea, possible because I was always aware of the over thirty heads in the room. I was smarter than the average eighteen-year-old, or at least smarter than Kim Minho.
I waited for Kim Minho to voluntarily create a trap and walk into it.
For 24 days, Kim Minho was consistently loud and occasionally picked on Han Taesan. Miraculously, Han Taesan never cried, lashed out, or refused to come to school. He just didn’t speak. For 24 days, I gave Go Yohan the tastiest side dish. On the second day, Go Yohan seemed to think about it, and by about a week in, he was grinning and eating it without complaint.
On the 25th day, I acted. It was the day after I had run into An Ji-su near the academy. As usual, Kim Minho was noisy, subtly harassing Han Taesan to the extent it wasn’t too obvious. Han Taesan, repeating what he had done before, lifted his arms onto the desk and buried his face in them.
The classroom students turned half around alternately watching Han Taesan and Kim Minho. Among them was An Ji-su, who, having met my gaze, sighed loudly as if to let everyone hear. She was giving me a cue. It was distasteful, but finally, the time had come. Then, I spoke up.
“Minho, let’s just stop this.”
I felt thirty-six gazes turning towards me. The unpleasant attention was palpable, probably from Han Taesan. Revulsion rose to my throat.
“Eh. Did someone just speak to me? Kang Jun? Wow. Serious and solemn? Hey. Kang Jun, have you seen me being disciplined? Oh wow. Scary.”
“I’m not joking.”
As I became serious, the atmosphere that had soared with Kim Minho’s uplifted tone plummeted. The smile faded from Kim Minho’s face, and then, unexpectedly, he threw the book he was holding with a show of bravado. I casually glanced at his face while sitting in my chair.
“What’s this? You, challenging me?”
“Let’s talk outside.”
I approached Kim Minho, grabbed his arm, and whispered quietly, not really trying to keep it from being heard. Fortunately, Kim Minho moved just as I wanted. Raising his arm, he shook off my hand and glared at me.
Ah. Lucky he’s dumb.
“Let go. What did you just say to me? You lectured me? Wow, fuck. You scolded me?”
“I don’t want to. What can you do about it? Shit. What can you do?”
“Don’t you see the mood in the class? How long will you keep up this bullying? It’s been a month. There’s a limit. The semester’s ending soon. If you want to play, do it during the vacation. Why make more noise here? Let’s at least not cause a disturbance in the classroom.”
I pressed down the frustration that was welling up inside me and pretended to be concerned about the class.
“Fuuuuuck. Kang Jun, you’re really good at playing the good guy, huh? Holy shit—look at this guy. I never knew you were such a saint! Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do? You just sat back and watched, so why don’t you keep doing that, huh?”
“Haa.”
I let out a sigh and rubbed my forehead. Apparently, Kim Minho took that as hostility.
“What? Seeing Han Taesan getting pushed around is making you feel all righteous now? Oh, right, you used to be Han Junwoo’s buddy too, huh?”
Pathetic. No wonder Go Yohan ignores him. Kim Minho doesn’t know his limits.
“…….”
But I never raised my voice.
Kim Minho, like Park Dongchul, clearly lacked awareness. It was two weeks before final exams, and our school had just as many wealthy students as poor ones.
And those rich kids lived under the constant pressure of academic performance—something Minho didn’t understand. He had no clue that there were things far more terrifying in their world than his little power displays. Of course, a broke idiot like Minho wouldn’t know that. Which is probably why he didn’t realize what could happen in situations like this.
“Does he think he owns the whole classroom?”
The first bold remark came from the front of the room. Someone had finally spoken up.
The first step is the hardest, but once it’s taken, the second is easy. I was the first to break the silence, and someone less bold than me had followed. It was An Ji-su. The school’s top student.
And just like a dam breaking, more voices flooded in.
“If you’re gonna make a scene, do it outside.”
“Seriously, who’s ruining the class mood?”
“Guys, shut up! The teacher’s coming.”
“Ugh, Kim Minho’s been a loudmouth since forever. Now he’s just getting worse. Annoying as fuck.”
“Hey, guys, quiet down! The teacher’s coming!”
Sensing an opportunity, even Hong Hwi-jun jumped in. He used to be in Han Junwoo’s group but had since fallen out. And he criticized Minho even more harshly than the kids who actually cared about studying.
“Huh.”
Amidst the murmuring, I heard a low voice. It came from right next to me. I turned my gaze and saw Go Yohan grinning. He pressed his sharp canine tooth against his thumb—a habit of his—and spoke.
“They’re right, Minho. You’ve gone too far.”
“What the fuck, Go Yohan. Who the hell’s side are you on?”
“Nah, I mean—doesn’t it make sense? You’re ruining the class atmosphere, and that’s just not cool.”
He bit down on his thumb and flashed a teasing smile. Watching that, a strange satisfaction welled up inside me—pride, even. I almost laughed out loud. Good. Go Yohan was smart. But what really surprised me was that even Lee Seokhyeon chimed in to back us up.
“Yeah, man. If you’re gonna joke around, at least read the room.”
“What? Seokhyeon, you little fuck—”
Minho’s face turned red with anger, and just as he was about to spit out a curse, Go Yohan suddenly stood up, marched out into the hallway, and—out of nowhere—threw open the door to the neighboring classroom.
“Teacher! Kim Minho keeps making a racket during self-study!”
It was absolutely ridiculous. And the teacher who came out of the other class was none other than the notorious PE teacher. Without a shred of hesitation, Yohan pointed straight at Minho.
“Him. He’s too loud. Please scold him.”
Turns out, PE had a lot of pent-up frustration toward Minho, who regularly skipped his class. Without even checking the situation, he grabbed Minho and dragged him out, shouting the whole time about how next time, he’d be calling his parents.
And just like that, it was over.
Minho stood in the hallway, staring out the window, no doubt ordered there by PE. But his eyes were locked on me.
Idiot. What are you gonna do, glare me to death? I didn’t care if Minho hated me. What mattered was that, from now on, the class would start subtly ignoring him. The results were even better than expected. I never thought Seokhyeon would take my side.
And Go Yohan?
Somehow, I had known he would help me. I had an odd confidence in that. But why? My mind was a swirling mess, euphoric and chaotic all at once.
I acted as if nothing had happened, quietly sitting back down and flipping through my workbook.
Unfortunately, my actions had made someone I despised very, very happy.
During cleaning duty, I ran into Han Taesan. He hesitated for a long time before finally speaking.
“……Thanks.”
As he kept his head down, picking at his fingernails, I clicked my tongue internally.
“Thanks? If anything, I should apologize for not stepping in sooner.”
“N-No… Really, I—I mean it… Thanks for… for helping me.”
“Don’t be too grateful. It wasn’t anything special.”
Who said I did it for you? You just happened to benefit from it. God, this guy’s self-importance is nauseating.
Peace showed no signs of ending. Not even when finals were over. Han Junwoo still hadn’t returned. And yet, Kim Minho could no longer be as loud as he used to be in the back of the classroom.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. He had attempted to restore the old atmosphere a few times, but every effort failed. Every time Minho tried to speak up, someone would shut him down. Most of the time, it was Hong Hwijun, who seemed to enjoy tearing him down. The rest of the class, however, knew better than to go after him more than they had that day.
After all, this backlash wouldn’t last forever. Eventually, Kim Minho would make a comeback. He might have wavered for now, but taking him down completely wasn’t easy.
The only ones truly enjoying this were the teachers. Seeing a subdued Minho, they seized the opportunity to nag.
“That’s right, Minho. You’re in your final year now. Time to focus and get your act together.”
“Ugh, what the hell…”
“You know our school was ranked among the top-performing high schools this year, right? This year is crucial. Stop bothering the students who actually study and get your shit together.”
To put it bluntly: You’re poor and bad at studying.
Minho clamped his mouth shut and slammed his book onto the desk with a loud thud. The sharp sound drew all eyes to him. Wow. Real subtle. He was practically screaming I’m pissed off without saying a word. I shook my head in disbelief, but next to me, Go Yohan suddenly straightened his back and smirked.
“Kim Minho, don’t throw your book.”
“What? Fuck off.”
“Fuck off?”
“…….”
“Did you just say fuck off to me?”
“I—no, that’s not what I meant… Ah, come on, man, I was joking. Joking! Why are you taking it so seriously? Crazy bastard.”
“Yohan, Minho, both of you, quiet down!”
The teacher banged his fist against the blackboard, but Yohan remained rigid, staring at Minho in silence. Minho, noticing the shift in the room, shrank back into his seat. Only then did Yohan turn his head toward the teacher.
“Hah… funny bastard.”
I glanced at Minho—the silent, defeated fool—and smirked. Stay a loser for the rest of your pathetic life, dumbass.
“What’s so funny?”
“Huh?”
A low, quiet voice whispered in my left ear. For a split second, it felt like a blade had sliced through the muscles in my neck. A chill ran down my left arm. My body, which should have moved freely, felt stiff. Instinctively, I covered my mouth with my right hand, suppressing a sharp inhale. Did he hear me?
“You look like you’re having a lot of fun.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Go Yohan leaning in, his face alarmingly close to my ear. Shit. My face heated up, and I instinctively averted my gaze. Yohan’s desk was covered in neatly underlined passages, the telltale markings of someone who had at least pretended to study. It was nonfiction. A strange sensation settled deep in my gut.
“It’s nothing.”
“What kind of ‘nothing’ is it? Tell me too.”
His whisper grew more intimate, the teasing lilt in his voice unmistakable. For some reason, I couldn’t answer immediately. My brain had frozen, struggling to process his voice. My brow furrowed. I don’t like this. I really don’t like this.
Then, Yohan’s slender fingers brushed against the curve of my ear. I flinched and glanced around.
“It’s really nothing.”
“Then what’s nothing supposed to mean?”
“I just thought something was funny on my own.”
I had no intention of sharing my twisted thoughts with him. The mere idea embarrassed me. But before I could think of an excuse, Yohan suddenly flicked his fingers off my ear, as if discarding something. The breeze shifted my head slightly away from him, preventing me from seeing his expression. His voice, trailing down my nape, carried an unexpected chill.
“Ah, what the hell.”
“What the hell?”@@novelbin@@
I didn’t even get the chance to explain. His gaze had already turned cold.
“Kang Jun, don’t talk to me.”
“Wait, what?”
“Fuck… you’re annoying me.”
“No, hold on. Hey.”
I reached out, but he smacked my arm away and ignored me. My mind raced as I desperately tried to figure out what I had said wrong. There was no answer. He’s really doing this just because I didn’t laugh?
But from that moment on, Go Yohan truly didn’t say a word to me. And that silence got under my skin more than anything. A strange unease sprouted in my gut.
Surrounded by the noise of the classroom, I buried my head in my workbook, mindlessly underlining questions I wasn’t actually reading. Every now and then, I felt a gaze. I’d pretend to check the time, only to find my eyes meeting Han Taesan’s. His large eyes wavered for a moment before sinking back into nothingness. At the same time, my own mood plummeted, as if sinking into the depths of the ocean. So this is what it feels like to find kindness revolting.
I realized for certain that what was happening between me and Yohan wasn’t just some passing tension—it was a battle.
That realization came when lunch started.
Go Yohan left to eat outside with Lee Seokhyeon.
Park Dongchul and Kim Seokmin exchanged puzzled looks before casually suggesting I grab my wallet to join them. But Yohan cut them off.
“Jun said he’s staying to study.”
Since when? My mouth fell open, and I shot Yohan a glare. He returned the look, mirroring my expression perfectly. But all those breaks spent with my nose buried in my books had come back to bite me.
“Ah… well, Jun has been studying a lot today.”
Park Dongchul agreed. Yohan’s brow twitched slightly, and his gaze lowered. His sharp eyes swept over Dongchul, his face subtly contorted in distaste.
“…….”
I wasn’t stupid enough to insist on coming along and cause a scene.
I tapped my workbook lightly with my mechanical pencil, then smiled as if this was all just casual, friendly banter.
“Yeah, I still have tutoring homework to finish, so I can’t go today. You guys go ahead.”
See that? Your little stunt doesn’t faze me.
Yohan’s gaze narrowed further. I refused to let it get to me.
Go Yohan was tall. The tallest in the entire school. His height was officially recorded as 187 cm during the last physical checkup.
The kids in our class used to joke that it was lucky he had stopped growing. But at some point, I realized he hadn’t stopped.
Back in the summer, Yohan had no trouble passing through the classroom door. But by the time winter started, I had noticed he now had to duck slightly to enter.
I couldn’t remember where exactly his head had reached against the classroom door in the spring, but in winter, it was unmistakable.
Go Yohan always stood in the back. Because of his height.
Just like now.
The ones pretending to pity me—the ones playfully whining that I should just come along—never saw the look on Yohan’s face.
Only I, standing right in front of him, could see it.
