The Model Student's Life

Chilly winds were blowing, and with the college entrance exam looming right around the corner, the kids were gradually growing quieter. A palpable chill hung in the classroom air, thick enough for everyone to feel. Watching Kyung-soo sit there from morning on with a rigid expression, staring only at his books, Jong-hyuk and I didn't even think to strike up a conversation. We just huddled as close as possible to the warm stove, rubbing our hands to thaw them out.

We exchanged glances, both silently wishing the damn exam would hurry up and end.

"That guy's always so touchy before tests," Jong-hyuk muttered.

"Is being number one his whole life?"

"Happiness comes in rank order, after all. Can't be helped."

Just then, a throbbing headache hit me. Along with the unfamiliar pain came a dizzying disconnect. Scenes from photos seemed to come alive, and voices echoed as if from afar. It was me in my forties, before regression, and Jong-hyuk looking about the same age. The conversation began to unfold.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the disorienting sensation I still wasn't used to, desperate not to miss a word. I focused intently.

Kyung-soo downed his glass straight and sank into thought, dredging up the memory. Across from him, I quietly sipped my drink as time passed. Then, in a voice slow but deepening like unraveling long-buried emotions from the depths of his heart, Jong-hyuk continued.

The dizzying sensation faded, the conversation stretching like taffy before snapping back. I felt myself back by the classroom stove. Jong-hyuk looked at me worriedly, my face pale.

I'd been foolish. Even before regression, with only work ties and shallow relationships, I couldn't fathom the depths between true friends—the resentments, the probes. I'd simplistically thought, 'Kyung-soo's the smart one. Jong-hyuk supports him despite his tough family.' Jong-hyuk and Kyung-soo were legendary friends, rare even in past, present, or future. How much twisted life stories, pain, and endurance hid beneath?

I'd only known the surface legends. Childhood wounds cut deepest. Being a great adult doesn't make you a great father. That incident deepened Jong-hyuk's thoughts, but he was just an elementary kid then, like Joo-shin. His strongest protector hadn't scolded him but publicly sided with his rival. How would I have felt?

I'd hated my brother for "stealing" Mom's love, even abandoned him at an orphanage and ran. Not excusing myself, but craving parents' exclusive love as a kid is natural instinct, ego forming. Yet Jong-hyuk was forced to grow up prematurely, as if it were obvious.

That he didn't stray, stayed close to Kyung-soo, and only slightly neglected studies showed incredible patience and character.

But if rebelling against Dad by dropping studies means he never chases his dreams... is that a happy ending for Jong-hyuk?

Looking at his worried gaze, I could only smile painfully.

That evening, confirming Jong-hyuk was out on an errand, I rang his doorbell. His mother answered, greeting me brightly as always.

"Joo-in? I just sent Jong-hyuk to buy soy sauce. Weren't you with him?"

"He went with Joo-shin."

"And you...?"

"Just... I wanted to talk to your husband about something from last time."

"Oh... sure? He's in his study. I'm swamped making galbi marinade—go on in. I'll share some when it's done."

"Thank you."

Not 'some'—probably a whole pot. But thanks anyway. Thanks to Jong-hyuk's mom, unlike my previous life, I was getting plenty of protein and growing faster.

Standing before Jong-hyuk's father's study, I felt intimidated but pressed on, a strong premonition that backing out would bring regret. I knocked on the thick door, tense.

Knock knock knock.

"Come in."

The voice was usual, but echoing from the study, it carried authority.

Is this why Dad's shadow loomed so large for Jong-hyuk as a kid?

"Hello. I'm Joo-in, Jong-hyuk's friend."

"Yes. But to my study...?"

"It's about Jong-hyuk. Something I wanted to ask."

"Hm?"

"Does it bother you that Jong-hyuk loses to Kyung-soo in grades?"

"What? What nonsense is that?"

If I hadn't previously invested my lottery winnings transparently—for friends' families' health and good causes, not personal gain—I'd have bolted at his hardened tone.

Chills.

I'd barged into family privacy with dirty feet, rude question and all. But he didn't see me as a thoughtless kid, so instead of raging, he gave a stiff chance to explain.

"Do you know Jong-hyuk's slacking on studies?"

"I know he's lost interest."

"The reason? He worked hard up to elementary, even coming here to ask questions. If he suddenly lost interest, ever thought to talk?"

"It's his choice. I believe in respecting any path."

"Jong-hyuk's lucky to have a dad who trusts him 100%. But have you shared that envy other kids feel with him?"

"That's... Of course, as my son..."

"There's no 'of course'!"

The thick study door flew open with a bang. Jong-hyuk burst in, swinging a bag of soy sauce, yelling.

Stunned that his never-shouting son was shouting at him, Jong-hyuk's father rose from the sofa, staring.

"Jong-hyuk..."

Glancing at the shocked father's face on Jong-hyuk's dad, Jong-hyuk stood furious and flustered. Behind him, his mother.

"I... I thought you hated me. Thought you wanted Kyung-soo to beat me."

"What...? You're my son—why would I hate you? And why's Kyung-soo coming up?"

Supporting the bewildered mother, I headed to the living room. Their conversation drifted faintly through the open door.

"Sorry for the sudden commotion..."

"You... know something? I have no idea..."

"They just lack talks. Haven't shared hearts in ages—give them time. Don't worry."

I gently held her hand, explaining Jong-hyuk's tangled feelings as positively as possible.

She doesn't seem fully buying it... Sorry, sir.

"No... really... even so, that's... such..."

"It's misunderstanding piled up, I think. Maybe I'm wrong. But crushing Jong-hyuk's dreams before they start over nonsense like this would be a shame. He's surely..."

Jong-hyuk and his father emerged awkward but reconciled, like friends. The vibe flustered me, but I pinched my thigh to stifle laughter.

"Well... uh... there was a misunderstanding between us... We talked it out."

"You... I've always supported you quietly, no matter what—even that absurd joint guarantee. How could you say that to Jong-hyuk... uh... th-that..."

"No... it's..."

Seeing his flustered dad, Jong-hyuk's eyes widened in shock. I grabbed his hand, set the soy sauce on the table—he'd been clutching it—and led him home.

For dazed Jong-hyuk, I added an extra spoon to our small warm table, supper served.

After a simple neat meal, I dragged floor-staring Jong-hyuk out to the alley.

"I..."

"Hard to say? Don't. And sorry."

"What?"

"I stirred up your house anyway."

"That's..."

"Friends matter more than parents'. Goosebumps making me a chicken, but yeah."

"Crazy, keep 1m distance when talking."

He swatted my supporting hand, stepped back, head down, mumbling inaudibly.

"Anyway... th-thanks..."

"What? Didn't hear?"

"Crazy, you think I'll say it twice?"

Pulling at him to repeat, he shoved me off roughly. We turned the alley noisy once more.