Grand Strategy

Even without this, I already had so much on my mind that my head felt ready to explode—and now one more worry had been piled on top.

Eunchae's unnaturally extreme lack of presence was clearly not normal by anyone's standards. I'd been privately curious about the reason, but the moment I tried to dig into those memories, Eunchae immediately complained of a severe headache.

Of course, she bounced right back to normal afterward and launched into a nonstop stream of tactless chatter. Still, as an "adult" who'd witnessed that scene, I couldn't help but feel concerned.

But the moment I tried to settle in for some serious thinking, I got interrupted—another symptom of Saiyan Syndrome, apparently. A car slammed to a sudden stop right in front of me as I waited for Eunju at the bus stop.

A black 850i. If my memory served, it was the same car as Eunju's father's. Not her "real" dad—her stepdad.

The window whirred down, and exactly the person I'd expected appeared. A clean-cut, kindly smiling man in his middle years.

"Haven't we met once before?"

"Hello! You're Eunju's father, right?"

Adult or not, he was still an adult to me. He was clearly at least department-head level, so I shot up from my seat and bowed politely at the waist.

"We keep running into each other. Do you live around here?"

"No. It's one of Eunju's academy days, so I was waiting for her."

"Is that so?"

Had I been a little too brazen about waiting for his daughter at this late hour? He seemed slightly taken aback by that confident demeanor.

"You don't need to worry too much. I have something important to tell her, but I don't have her number, so I came to see her in person."

"You still don't have her number? I guess you're not that close, then."

"We're just school seniors and juniors who chat a bit because of the election. You know Eunju's running for vice president, right?"

"I heard about it at the parent-teacher conference. Eunju herself never answers unless you ask. Hmm..."

On the surface, their "legal" father-daughter relationship looked perfectly fine. But clearly an unbridgeable gap remained between them.

This was exactly like me and Harin. Our generations were a little different, but as fellow fathers of high school daughters, a sudden wave of empathy washed over me.

"By the way, student? This might sound a little strange all of a sudden, but..."

"I just transferred here not long ago from the countryside. My dad's a taxi driver, and my mom's a full-time housewife. My grades are just so-so, so after graduation I'm planning to go to a technical college, learn a trade, and get a job right away."

"...?"

Surprised I'd hit the bullseye so bluntly? But while a high school girl might be harder to read, this middle-aged guy was way too easy.

Because I would've asked the exact same things.

"And there's nothing going on between me and Eunju. She's so reserved that she's careful even about making friends, and all the friends around her have excellent reputations."

"Ha, student? You're making me feel like a complete snob here."

"All parents feel the same way. After today, I probably won't even have reason to meet Eunju again. So you can rest easy."

"I think you're misunderstanding something, student. I'm not the kind of person who wants to control my daughter's relationships however I please."

"It's not controlling—it's protecting. I don't know Eunju that well, but she seemed to be trying hard to live up to those expectations. You could say it's the ideal family I always wished for."

"Ha..."

Eunju's father finally let out a bitter laugh. Maybe I'd overstepped a bit, but the truth was I'd just needed someone—anyone—to pour out my real feelings to.

"Sir?"

Just then, the driver in the front seat called out urgently. The reason? A bus was rumbling into the stop.

"Damn... If Eunju asks, just cover for me somehow. Looking at you, student, you seem more than capable."

"Don't worry. Have a good night, then."

The car carrying Eunju's father hurried off toward home. At the same time, Eunju stepped off the bus that had just stopped.

"Sunbae...? What were you doing with my dad just now?"

Of course Eunju had seen everything. Having witnessed a situation that made no sense from any angle, the fact that I'd shown up unannounced barely even registered as a question.

"Talking about you."

"You only met my dad once, and you were talking about me?"

"Maybe that's because you've been too quiet at home? So when the only acquaintance of his daughter he knows shows up, he wanted to ask something—anything. I only said good things, so don't worry."

Strictly speaking, I'd only listed facts. But since Eunju herself was so flawless, it naturally turned into a praise relay.

"Haa... I don't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠get it. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠why are you even here?"

"I have something to say. First of all, I'm sorry about last time. Like you said, you never once said anything like that out loud, but I went and misunderstood and jumped to conclusions on my own."

That wasn't true at all. Eunju had reacted both silently and through the atmosphere as if Ji-hye had stabbed her in the back.

So she'd clearly deceived me, but right now I had something I absolutely had to say, so please just let this slide for now.

"No... I acted in a way that invited misunderstanding. And then I treated you like a weirdo. That was my fault."

Did she still have some last shred of conscience left? Eunju admitted that the misunderstanding hadn't been a misunderstanding.

Of course, she showed no intention of talking about the truth, so I had no choice but to keep wondering why she'd lied.

"Anyway, you don't have anything to say to me today, right? Can I get straight to the point?"

"I don't particularly have anything to say to you, sunbae."

I'd learned over the past few days that Eunju was surprisingly talkative. Fortunately, today she really claimed to have nothing to say.

"Then I'll talk. The reason I've been acting weird the past few days is..."

"Could we go somewhere quieter to talk?"

"..."

But saying she had nothing to say didn't mean she wouldn't cut this conversation short. I'd set the mood a bit, sure, but did we really need to change locations?

In the end, I followed Eunju to a nearby neighborhood park. Past ten at night, not a soul was around—just a single streetlamp casting a soft glow over the cozy space.

"Haa..."

Eunju let out a deep breath and turned around. The way she clutched her academy textbook to her chest with both hands made her tension especially clear.

Perhaps because of the lighting, the baby fat under her large eyes stood out more than usual. Her trademark pouting chick-like lips were trembling slightly.

"What... were you going to talk about?"

"You seem really nervous."

"N-no. It's nothing like that."

She said that, but her breathing was still shaky. I got that she'd been startled by my sudden visit, but why was this kid trembling so much?

No way... right? Was she still stuck on Wonhui's theory and scared I was about to ambush her with a confession?

I'd heard from the young sailors. These days, just liking someone could be enough to hurt them.

Eunju was uncomfortable with me. Up until last week I'd only talked about Harin, then suddenly this week I'd shown intense interest in her—so that obsession was scary to her.

Of course it was all a misunderstanding, but that was how Eunju saw it. First, defuse the time bomb that looked ready to explode at the slightest touch.

"Uh... Eunju? I don't know what you're thinking, but whatever it is, it's definitely not that, so you can relax."

"R-really?"

Because no crazy person snatches back a campaign promise they'd already given once. So no matter how many simulations Eunju had run, she wouldn't have thought of that.

"So what I wanted to say is..."

Still, she was clearly suspicious of me. The sound of her swallowing was so blatant it practically roared.

I'd agonized over how to bring this up more times than I could count. But I'd told too many lies up to now.

Setting aside the guilt, the fact that Eunju had lost a considerable amount of trust in me was real. So here, a frontal assault was better.

"You know that campaign promise I mentioned before?"

"Casual Clothes Day? Actually, I casually floated the idea to my friends and the reaction was good. So we were going to make it our main platform..."

"Could you withdraw that for me?"

"Nweh?"

Eunju's voice shot up into the air, piercing through her usual neat tone. The fact that she couldn't even pronounce it properly meant this was something she'd absolutely never expected.

"W-what are you talking about, sunbae? Suddenly asking me to withdraw a campaign promise..."

"I'm really sorry! I should've said it right on Monday, but I kept missing the chance. But it's true. You absolutely cannot use that promise."

"We've almost finished election prep, and we have to submit the platform by Friday. If we withdraw that promise, we'd have to completely rebuild everything from scratch starting now. And then you suddenly..."

"I know how shocked you must be. But anyway, that promise is a no-go!"

"What's the reason?"

"Well... the other side is using the same promise."

"...?"

Even Eunju needed a bit of time to process this situation. Still, in less than thirty seconds, the counter-question came right back.

"I-I don't understand? The other side meaning Ji-hye unnie? Are you saying they're copying our promise?"

"Uh... strictly speaking, it's the opposite. They had it first, and you guys ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠came later."

"I've never copied any campaign promise. In the first place, that promise was something sunbae..."

"Exactly! I messed up. I happened to hear that promise and naturally assumed it was yours, so I brought it up. But it turned out it wasn't."

"That doesn't explain anything! Who exactly did you hear that promise from?"

"Well... Harin."

"..."

Eunju's expression darkened in an instant. She clearly hadn't expected that detestable name to pop up again here. Still, she held onto her last bit of patience and asked again.

"You heard it from Harin? When?"

"Last Sunday. Harin said she was campaigning, so I naturally assumed she was on your side. I brought it up thinking you all already knew, but it turned out she was on the opposite side."

"That doesn't make sense. Were you close enough with Harin to meet up separately on the weekend? Close enough to talk about election promises? Where did you even meet?"

At home... but the moment that got out, the plagiarism wouldn't be the problem—I'd have to apply for leave right away to go find the runaway Harin.

"At home..."

But I answered exactly as it had floated into my head. Naturally, Eunju's eyes were now moving past contempt into pure shock.

"H-home? You talked about that with Harin at home? Sunbae, this is like you and Harin are..."

"Harin lives in the same villa complex as me. We ran into each other by chance in the complex over the weekend and the topic came up. I'm really sorry, Eunju."

"..."

But was I crazy enough to reveal that the two of us were living together here? Surprisingly, there was a simple solution.

This was more than enough reason for me to run into Harin by chance.

"Haa... I know it's hard to accept. I should've said it that very day, but stuff kept blowing up and I never got the chance. But Eunju? I'm not just asking you to back down for free. Look at this."

I thrust forward the proposal I'd prepared in advance. Spreading out the project plan page by page, I launched into my explanation.

"I've prepared as many contingencies as I could, so with this you should be able to pick and choose without even needing a separate meeting. First, for the main platform, use the one here..."

"Are you making fun of me right now, sunbae?"

"..."

But no matter how mature Eunju was, she was still only eighteen. The one who'd dragged her into an election she never even wanted to run in was me.

And just now, her campaign promise had been exposed as plagiarism. On top of that, it was all because I'd dragged it out instead of saying everything at once. The fact that she hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slapped me across the face already put her on the same level as Jesus and Buddha.

"Y-yeah, I know you're furious. That's why I've been too scared and kept missing chances to tell you. But Eunju? I know it's shameless as hell to ask you to trust me now, but just read it once. If there's nothing worth salvaging even here, then you can do whatever you want with me..."

Without a word, Eunju took the proposal. Or more precisely, she half-snatched it with force.

I could see her shoulders heaving as she breathed roughly. From those large, pretty eyes now poured a murderous aura I'd never seen before, and her once chick-cute lips were pressed tightly together, trembling.

"I don't need this crap."

With those words, Eunju slammed the proposal I'd stayed up all night writing into the neighborhood park trash can. Then she strode off home with footsteps that looked ready to smash the Earth.

"..."

So this was how it ended. Of course, I never really thought I could be forgiven.

Causing an industrial accident and then doing a full dogeza doesn't bring the dead back. It just earns you a pathetic free pass of "Ah~ at least he's reflecting pretty hard."

I'd just wanted to launder my conscience with one pathetic night of effort. Completely self-serving self-consolation that didn't give a damn about the other person's feelings.

I still hadn't become an "adult."