Strangely Well-Matched

The next morning.

The classroom hummed with the particular brand of chaos that always filled the air before morning assembly. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Footsteps pounded up and down the hallway as students raced past, and in the back of the room, kids who'd printed their presentation materials were passing papers around among themselves. On the electronic board at the front, the opening slide of someone's presentation file sat glowing, waiting.

Kang Tae-jun sat at his desk, slowly flipping through a few sheets of paper.

This was the material for the graded presentation they'd be giving today.

He'd taken the content Ha-yoon had organized last night and refined the flow of the presentation himself. It had seemed simple enough at first, but now that he actually had to explain it in front of people, things that needed checking kept jumping out at him.

"You're gonna burn a hole through that paper."

Lee Hyun-woo said it from the seat beside him.

Tae-jun didn't look up from the materials.

"If I bomb this presentation, it's partly your fault."

"How is it my fault?"

"You did the research."

"Kim Min-seo did it with me, you know."

Hyun-woo pointed across the aisle with an injured look.

Kim Min-seo was checking over the presentation materials with one earbud in. Sensing their eyes on her, she lifted her head.

"What?"

"Tae-jun says if he bombs the presentation, it's our fault."

"Then don't bomb it."

Min-seo answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and went right back to her screen.

Hyun-woo let out a hollow laugh.

"Is our whole group this cold?"

"You're the one who looks the most relaxed."

"I'm not the one presenting."

Tae-jun finally rolled up the papers and gave Hyun-woo a light swat on the arm.

That was when the classroom door opened.

Seo Ha-yoon walked in with a clear file folder held against her chest. Her long golden hair was perfectly in place, not a strand out of order, and in one hand she carried a freshly printed set of presentation materials. After a brief greeting to her friends, she walked straight over to where her groupmates had gathered.

"Everyone's here early."

Hyun-woo pointed at Tae-jun.

"To be precise, this guy's the only one who showed up early because he's nervous about presenting."

"I'm not nervous."

Tae-jun denied it immediately.

Ha-yoon glanced at the crumpled papers in his hand.

"Looks like you've gone over those a lot."

"I just checked them over once or twice."

"For someone who only looked once, those papers are pretty wrinkled."

Tae-jun looked down at the materials. He must have been gripping them too hard — the bottom of the pages was a little folded over.

Hyun-woo burst out laughing as if he'd been waiting for this exact moment.

"So you are nervous."

"Shut up."

Ha-yoon listened to their exchange and smiled faintly. Then she set the clear file folder she'd brought down on the desk.

"The first slide looked a little empty, so I added a table."

Inside the folder was a set of presentation materials even cleaner than last night's version. Beneath the topic heading, she'd added a table briefly comparing communication methods by era. There wasn't much text, so it was easy to take in at a glance, and it connected naturally with what Tae-jun would be explaining in the opening.

Tae-jun looked over the materials.

"When did you do this?"

"This morning."

"You got up early."

"I always get up early."

Ha-yoon pulled out her own copy as she spoke.

"Don't try to explain everything from the start. Just briefly cover the differences in the table. There are examples later, so you don't need to talk at length on the first slide."

"Got it."

"And if you speak a little slowly at the beginning, you'll be fine."

Tae-jun looked at her.

"Do I talk fast?"

"Only when you first start."

Ha-yoon answered without the slightest hesitation.

"You settle down after a bit, but at the beginning you talk like you're trying to get it over with as fast as possible."

Hyun-woo nodded.

"That's true. The second this guy starts a presentation, he goes into rap mode."

"It's not that bad."

Tae-jun glared at Hyun-woo, but Ha-yoon was already checking the next set of materials.

She hadn't assigned him the presenting role simply because he was good at it. She'd been watching how he spoke — even which parts made him speed up. The fact that her judgment was that quick still struck him as a little remarkable. Then again, if you'd watched someone present multiple times in the same class, it was the kind of thing you might notice.

Tae-jun let the thought go and opened the new materials.

"Just take the opening slowly."

"Yeah."

"If a question comes up, don't go hunting through the materials in order. Lead with the conclusion."

"I said I got it."

"Then that's all."

Ha-yoon answered calmly and went back to her seat.

Hyun-woo watched her go, then leaned toward Tae-jun.

"Looks like you've got yourself a personal manager."

"I'm the one presenting, that's all."

"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Hyun-woo just grinned and didn't answer.

Second period began, and their turn to present drew near.

When the previous group's presentation ended, the teacher checked the list.

"Next, Group Three."

Tae-jun stood up with the materials he'd prepared. Hyun-woo and Min-seo followed, and Ha-yoon went to the front of the classroom with the laptop. As the presentation file appeared on the electronic board, the chatter in the room gradually died down.

Ha-yoon looked at Tae-jun. It was nothing more than a brief, silent nod — just enough of a signal.

Tae-jun took a breath and faced the class.

"Our group researched how methods of communication have changed in modern society."

He spoke the first couple of sentences more slowly than usual. His voice carried steadily through the classroom.

"In the past, communication centered on meeting in person or exchanging letters. Now, people can talk without being significantly limited by time or place."

Ha-yoon advanced to the first slide. Tae-jun pointed to the table and briefly explained the causes of the change. He didn't stretch the words out. He delivered only the essentials, then moved on.

The case studies Hyun-woo and Min-seo had researched appeared on the screen next. You could contact someone far away almost instantly. You could share all kinds of information at the same time. On the other hand, short messages alone could fail to convey emotion or intent.

The presentation flowed more smoothly than expected. Tae-jun's voice grew more comfortable than it had been at the start, and he checked the materials less and less. Hyun-woo nodded from the back as if satisfied, and Min-seo was watching the other students' reactions.

After covering the final point, Tae-jun gave a short bow.

"That concludes our presentation."

Applause broke out here and there around the classroom.

Tae-jun was just starting to relax and step back when the teacher raised a hand.

"That was a solid summary. Let me ask one question, though."

Tae-jun's feet stopped.

"You said that as communication tools became more convenient, it got easier to maintain relationships, right?"

"Yes."

"Then can we say that new forms of communication always bring people closer together?"

It wasn't a question they'd prepared for. Tae-jun opened his mouth to answer right away, but no suitable sentence came to him. Just because something was more convenient didn't mean it automatically brought people closer. There was similar content in the presentation, but for a moment he couldn't remember which page it was on.

A brief silence settled over the room.

That was when Ha-yoon lightly nudged the materials on the desk with her fingertips. The bottom of the page that was already open — the section summarizing cases of misunderstandings caused by short messages.

Tae-jun's eyes found the sentence as if drawn there. Ha-yoon didn't say a word. The moment he checked the materials, she withdrew her hand.

Tae-jun looked back at the teacher.

"I don't think we can say it always brings people closer."

His voice was steadier than it had been at the start.

"There are more opportunities to stay in touch, but if all you exchange are short messages, you can easily misread the other person's feelings or intentions. So while convenient tools can bring a relationship closer, I don't think the tools themselves determine how deep that relationship is."

The teacher nodded slowly.

"That's a good answer."

Tae-jun let out a short breath. The presentation was over.

As the four of them returned to their seats, Hyun-woo immediately clapped Tae-jun on the shoulder.

"We survived."

"Survived what?"

"Your face completely froze when you got that question."

"I was just thinking for a second."

Min-seo cut in with a smile.

"If Ha-yoon hadn't pointed out the materials, I think you would've been thinking a lot longer."

Tae-jun couldn't argue. He'd been thinking the same thing.

"Thanks."

When Tae-jun said it, Ha-yoon looked up from organizing the presentation materials.

"I only showed you where it was."

"Still."

"You're the one who answered."

Her tone was even. She didn't inflate her own help, and she didn't point out that he'd frozen for a moment either.

"You handled the question well, too."

It was a short bit of praise. For a moment, Tae-jun remembered last night's chat.

The way of speaking had been different, and the situation couldn't have been more different. Ha-yoon's voice was gentle, and Shopsop's messages were offhand. And yet both of them had looked first at the part Tae-jun had done himself, rather than at the result.

Tae-jun headed back to his seat, glancing down at the presentation materials. Hyun-woo smirked beside him.

"You look pretty happy."

"The presentation went well, that's all."

"Not because Ha-yoon complimented you?"

Tae-jun rolled up the papers and swatted Hyun-woo on the shoulder.

"Be quiet."

Lunchtime.

The four of them, presentation behind them, gathered by the windows to eat. Hyun-woo was unwrapping a hamburger he'd bought from the school store, and Tae-jun was making do with bread and a drink as well.

Ha-yoon glanced once at the bread bag sitting on Tae-jun's desk, but she didn't say anything. Min-seo clicked her tongue first instead.

"Do you two eat like that every day?"

Hyun-woo held up his hamburger.

"It's got meat, vegetables, and bread."

"When you put it that way, it almost sounds complete."

Tae-jun cracked open his drink.

"As long as it's easy."

Ha-yoon picked up a side dish from her lunchbox and looked at the two of them.

"You're going to be hungry this afternoon."

"Then we'll just eat again."

Hyun-woo answered as if it were nothing. Min-seo shook her head but didn't press it.

A little later, the conversation drifted naturally from presentation scores to other things. Hyun-woo tried to sneak Tae-jun's drink and got his hand smacked for it, and Min-seo checked the assignment for next period. Ha-yoon was closing her lunchbox lid when her eyes happened to catch Tae-jun's phone screen.

It was the Origin Fantasia community. Tae-jun was checking the titles of newly posted threads. Hyun-woo glanced at the screen too.

"Logging on again today?"

"Probably."

"Presentation's over, so now it's just the game, huh."

"I won't play long today."

"You said that last time too."

Ha-yoon closed her water bottle and asked lightly,

"Do you always play that game with the same people?"

Tae-jun looked up.

"Not always. But there is someone I play with a lot."

"Someone you met in the game?"

"Yeah."

Hyun-woo cut in with a grin.

"He says he's tight with the rank one player."

"We're not 'tight.'"

"You play together every day and they ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even give you private coaching."

Ha-yoon's hand paused for a moment on the water bottle. Her expression, though, was no different from usual.

"They train you, too?"

"That person is just that good."

Tae-jun answered without the slightest suspicion.

"You end up learning a lot when you play together. Even if they are kind of terrifying."

"There he goes calling them terrifying again."

Hyun-woo laughed. Ha-yoon smiled, just barely.

"If you keep playing together anyway, I guess you two must work well together."

"It's less that we work well together and more that I'm just keeping up."

"But if you're going to keep playing together, one person being good isn't enough, right?"

Ha-yoon didn't ask anything more after that. Min-seo brought up another topic, and the conversation shifted naturally. Tae-jun didn't dwell on it either.

Except Ha-yoon's words stayed with him a little longer than the rest.

If only one person is good, you can't keep going together.

Shopsop was a player standing far, far above him. Even now, Tae-jun thought of himself as the one doing the following. And yet Shopsop called him back every time. Even when he made mistakes, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she never kicked him from the party, and she even set aside time to train him separately.

Tae-jun turned off his phone screen and folded the bread bag.

That night.

Tae-jun logged into the game a little earlier than usual. With the presentation over, there was no assignment he needed to prepare separately, and he really did intend not to play for long.

The character select screen faded, and Arc Saber appeared in the village square. The area was packed with players looking for party members and merchants trading gear. Raid recruitment posts scrolled rapidly through the chat window.

Tae-jun opened his friends list.

He was about to send a whisper when a party invite arrived first.

Tae-jun accepted immediately.

Tae-jun smiled and opened his equipment window.

Tae-jun's hands paused for a moment. He'd only just said he couldn't stay on long. Shopsop made it sound as if she'd picked a short dungeon from the start. Then again, she often adjusted the schedule based on how her party members were doing. It wasn't anything particularly strange.

A short while later, the two of them moved to the dungeon entrance.

An underground passage stretching away beneath a ruined fortress wall. Blue ore was embedded in the stone, and rows of ancient suits of armor stood along both sides of the narrow path.

The moment they entered, the first pack of monsters appeared. Shopsop moved forward without a word of explanation. Tae-jun followed right behind her.

The first time they'd met, he would have stared only at her character, terrified of losing track of her movements. It was different now. When Shopsop pulled the gaze of the monsters on the right, Tae-jun peeled off to the left as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Just before she used an attack skill, he applied a support effect first.

Three monsters charged them at once.

The short message popped up. Tae-jun immediately spun his character around and blocked the monster approaching from the rear.

Even without Shopsop giving separate instructions, the order of their attacks linked together naturally. Tae-jun shoved the enemies back, and Shopsop's area skill landed in that exact spot.

A thunderous blast. The monsters collapsed all at once.

The two of them didn't stop. They moved straight on to the next zone.

The second area was full of floor traps. The path was narrow, and spears jutted out at regular intervals — mistime it and you'd be shoved right back the way you came.

Shopsop stepped forward first. Tae-jun didn't blindly follow her character. He watched the movement of the floor and advanced the instant the spears retracted. Shopsop paused briefly. The moment Tae-jun's character arrived beside hers, she started moving again.

There was no reply. Instead, Shopsop's character crossed the next trap in a swift burst. Tae-jun laughed and followed after her.

In the final zone, a colossal statue of a boss was waiting. The moment the boss opened its eyes, the entire floor flushed red. A massive arm slowly rose.

Tae-jun stopped attacking and sidestepped. A beat later, the boss's fist slammed into the floor.

A deafening crash. The shockwave exploded outward in a ring. Tae-jun was already in the safe zone.

No instruction came from Shopsop. Tae-jun checked the direction the boss was turning and moved to the opposite side, then drew its gaze so she could attack. The instant the attack missed, Shopsop's character slipped in behind it.

A chain of skills erupted. Tae-jun linked in the skills he still had left. The boss's health dropped fast.

Right before the last attack, Shopsop's character eased back — just a fraction. Tae-jun saw the movement and immediately used a defensive skill. The boss collapsed, detonating one final shockwave as it fell. Both characters lost a little health, but neither went down.

The message appeared in the center of the screen. Tae-jun leaned back against his chair and let out a breath. It had taken far less time than expected.

A reply came after a moment.

Tae-jun stared at the chat window. He started to type a reply, then stopped.

The presentation that afternoon came back to him. The moment he'd frozen after getting that question. Ha-yoon hadn't answered for him. She'd only lightly pointed out the materials he needed, then waited for him to pick up the words himself.

Just now, Shopsop had done the same thing. She hadn't called out every timing the way she usually did. She'd waited so that Tae-jun could see it and move first.

The way the two of them did things was strangely alike.

Tae-jun let out a low laugh and sent his reply.

This time, the reply didn't come right away. The two characters stood side by side in the empty space the boss had left behind. The light of the blue ore remaining on the floor flickered slowly.

A moment later.

A smile spread across Tae-jun's face.

It was a short answer. Tae-jun didn't ask anything more.

Today the presentation had gone well, and in the dungeon he'd shown that he'd improved. Both Ha-yoon and Shopsop had only taken a single step to point him in the right direction, and only when he needed it.

The two of them couldn't have been more different. One was in the same classroom. The other was on the other side of a screen. Their way of speaking was different, and the atmosphere around them was different. And yet whenever he did something together with either of them, the flow was strangely, almost unnaturally comfortable.

Tae-jun didn't bother trying to find a reason for it. He simply thought that today, a lot of things had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lined up in a strangely good way.

Tae-jun laughed and closed the game.

At the same moment, Seo Ha-yoon lingered for a while on the name of the Arc Saber who had just logged out.

During the day they had sat across from each other with presentation materials between them. At night they had walked the same dungeon as two different characters. Tae-jun, who at first had always been a beat behind, was now starting to read her movements, little by little.

Ha-yoon quietly closed her friends list.

On one corner of her desk sat the materials they'd used for today's presentation. Slipped in on top of them was the presentation script Tae-jun had handed over. Ha-yoon gently smoothed out the crumpled bottom of the paper and tucked it into the folder.

Then she turned off her computer a little earlier than usual.

To Tae-jun, they were still two different people.

But to Ha-yoon — in the daytime and at night alike — he was the same person, their rhythm falling into place, little by little.