Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: Na-young Han
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"Cheating!"
One kid finally couldn't hold it in anymore and jumped up from his seat, shouting when he saw the big 100 stamped on his test paper too.
Even kids this young weren't all just playing around.
Most of them did, but in a class, there was at least one—or in a whole grade of hundreds, just a handful—who started caring about grades early on.
I wasn't sure if they matured faster or if their parents pressured them into staking their lives on scores, but those kids existed.
So, when a slacker like me—who only ever played around and bombed every test—snatched first place and even got a perfect score they'd never seen before, it got under their skin.
"Cheating? What makes you say that?"
The teacher opened his mouth with a slightly baffled look.
"Even the last test, he averaged in the 30s, and now suddenly all 100s? That doesn't make sense!"
It was a fair point.
But for some reason, it felt like he was looking down on me, which rubbed me the wrong way.
Didn't it?
I might suck at studying, but I got into a university on the outskirts of Seoul after three tries. You think I couldn't handle problems like these?
And.
"He's right. I was a little suspicious too, but this test had essay questions you couldn't cheat on, right?"
Just like he said, math had essay problems.
English even asked kids to write subjective answers in English about stuff like that.
"That answer impressed me and the other teachers."
Objective problems were easy, but essays? Man, those were tough. I sweated over them.
"Can you call that cheating?"
"Uh, ugh..."
Luckily, he wasn't just blindly insisting. He grudgingly nodded at the teacher's words but glared daggers at me.
His stare was so sharp it nearly sliced me.
"Wow... Ji-hoon, you're amazing."
Na-young had lost some weight since that first day, and the stuff on her face had faded enough to be hard to notice, but her face was still no beauty. She compared her rain-of-red-ink test to mine and marveled.
"It's nothing."
It wasn't much so far, but if I aged just a bit more without studying like crazy, no way this brain of mine could stay top of the class.
"Still... you're really amazing."
She really wanted to praise me, huh.
"Thanks."
The feeling wasn't bad, so I smiled and gently brushed her bangs aside.
Her hair, now properly washed at home with no grease, fell aside to reveal pretty eyes.
"Eek."
Our eyes met, and she blushed, turning her head away shyly.
Na-young expressing more emotions and talking more lifted my mood too.
If things kept going like this, no problems. All that was left was her looks.
"I'll teach you when you need to study for real, so focus on losing weight and getting pretty for now, okay?"
Honestly, grades didn't matter much right now.
For my eyes at least, she needed to get pretty first, so looks came before studies.
"Yeah...!"
Exercise hurt and sucked, but since it was with me, Na-young smiled brightly and answered.
That innocent smile stabbed my chest like needles.
Because today, I planned to make her cry.
Purely for my desires.
'Sorry, Na-young.'
I mouthed an apology in my head while kneading her chubby cheeks—one of her favorite things—and waited for time to pass.
School ended, and naturally, Na-young came to my house.
She dropped her bag, changed into gym clothes, and headed out.
We were jogging to lose weight, but today we'd try a different route.
"J-Ji-hoon."
Na-young, grinning ear-to-ear and sticking close behind me, started trembling as people gathered one by one around us.
Classmates were somewhat used to her now, but the stares from total strangers—way more than at school—made her shrink.
"Whoa, she's seriously ugly."
"Ugly and super fat too."
"At that level, might as well give up on life."
Most glanced at Na-young's looks and passed silently, but some young punks mocked her loud enough for everyone to hear.
I thought she'd gotten tough from school bullying and wouldn't cry anymore.
Big mistake.
"J-Ji-hoon... sob... Ji-hoon..."
Choking back sobs, she clutched my shirt without blaming me for bringing her here.
She just wanted to escape this place.
"Don't cry, Na-young."
There was no reason for Na-young to stick to me forever.
Even if she owed me for her beauty, she could ditch me for some hot guy and forget it all.
So, how to rule that out completely? After agonizing, I had my answer.
Gaslighting, as they call it.
Make her feel nothing even for the handsomest, coolest guy, dependent on me alone.
And since her mind was still immature, it worked wonders.
Especially isolated and bullied like this.
She already relied only on me, so it wasn't strictly necessary—but for insurance, I needed to solidify the foundation.
"H-Here... I h-hate it...!"
Tears streaming, she buried herself in my arms.
Na-young, easily twice my size, clinging to me had the punks cracking up.
Even I could see the anchovy guy and pig girl combo as funny.
"Sob... waa... hic."
She cried pitifully, desperately ignoring the comments.
"It's okay. Don't mind them. No matter what they say, you're not weird at all, Na-young."
Just fat and dirty-faced.
"I said I'd make you pretty, right? What if it's even worse then?"
I pulled her face from my chest—she didn't want to show it.
I wiped her damp eyes with my thumb, then spoke protectively.
"Hey, big bros. Apologize to Na-young."
"Pfft. A-apologize...? Pfft."
"Ahaha. Sorry. Sorry. Haha."
"We're really sorry, Na-young. Hahaha!"
They apologized like I forced them, so it didn't feel genuine.
I wanted it, but it soured my mood anyway.
"Hey, you punks."
A burly guy glaring at them—not just me—stepped up.
His muscular, fierce face screamed "don't touch."
"Making a kid way younger than you cry—what the hell, you little... ahem."
He almost swore but coughed, mindful of us kids.
A caring guy under that rough exterior.
"Anyway, apologize properly, yeah?"
"......"
The punks, weak against the strong, finally looked sorry—but insincerely.
"Tch."
The guy clicked his tongue, unsatisfied, but with Na-young still crying, dragging it out wasn't ideal.
"Scram."
The punks bolted like they'd been waiting.
"Don't mind them."
I pulled candy from my pocket, placed it in her hand, and smiled.
Backfire.
My scary face smiling looked fiercer; even I flinched. Na-young must've too.
She wailed louder, clinging harder.
I rushed her home.
"You okay now?"
"Hic... hic..."
She shook her head, sniffling.
"Sorry. I changed the route thinking you'd get bored of the same path, didn't expect that."
She shook her head no—it wasn't my fault.
"From tomorrow, same old route only."
She nodded eagerly.
Though I'd still take crowded paths sometimes to make her rely on me.
"Alright, cream time?"
"Eek..."
Cream application hour.
Na-young hated it, but no choice.
She resisted so much, she probably hadn't even opened the cream I gave her to use at home.
So, I had to apply it once a day myself.
I carefully covered her vast face, extra thick on bad spots.
"Okay, now wash up."
"Yeah!"
Like she'd been waiting, her cream-white face beamed as she skipped to the bathroom.
The door slammed shut. Alone cleaning up.
Door lock beeping.
Dad was busy saving his crumbling company, rarely home. Had to be Mom.
"Welcome home?"
Mom, as expected.
"Who's here?"
She spotted unfamiliar small shoes neatly at the entrance.
"Yeah."
"A friend?"
"Yeah. You're home early today?"
"The section chief... no, section chief had stuff, left early, so we did too. Oh, you wouldn't get it, Ji-hoon."
I got the gist.
No work, stuck bored at the office, boss leaves first—time to bounce.
"Ji-hoon! All washed... Oh, hello...!"
"......"
Na-young emerged from the bathroom, hair dripping, spotted Mom, and bowed deeply.
"A girl?"
"Yeah."
Mom seemed flustered.
"Saw shoes bigger than yours, thought boy... it's a girl...?"
She muttered low, but I heard.
"Mom, can Na-young eat here?"
"Eat...?"
"Yeah."
"Well... sure."
Not thrilled, but she allowed it.
"Ji-hoon, come here a sec."
She beckoned me to the kitchen cautiously.
"Ji-hoon... that... not your girlfriend, right?"
"Na-young?"
"Yeah, her. Friends are fine, but if you like each other, unavoidable... but to me, as a girlfriend... hmm, not quite."
From Mom's view, a pretty daughter-in-law was ideal.
Even if not, mutual love might win her over—but Na-young's current looks? No way.
Fine as friend, not son's girl.
"Not yet."
"Not yet...?"
"Yeah."
"You like her?"
"Yeah."
"Ji-hoon, is she your only close girl friend?"
"Yeah."
"Oh dear..."
Mom rubbed her forehead like it hurt.
"What's wrong?"
I knew—ugly, twice or triple my weight, filthy grotesque face—but played dumb, tilting my head.
"Ji-hoon, you're too young for girlfriends. Just stay friends with Na-young."
"Just friends?"
"Just friends. You'll lose interest when you grow up."
We were "just friends" now, but the second she got pretty? No way simple friends.
I'd confess, or she'd gain confidence and confess to me.
"Sorry, Mom."
"Huh?"
"I like Na-young too much for just friends."
"...!"
Already hooked on future Na-young—how could I stay just friends?
"So I can't do what you say."
It hurt like nailing Mom's heart, but she was wrong too.
No matter how ugly or fat, even a mom shouldn't say that.
Plus, Na-young could hear everything—couldn't side with Mom now.
"Sorry."
Vacation soon. Short or long, I'd fix Na-young's looks to Mom's satisfaction.
She might not get it now, but then she'd see Na-young as a gem and understand.
Why I chose this.
I left stunned Mom and went to Na-young.
She greeted me casually despite the gloom—and subtle joy—but couldn't hide her damp eyes.
"Cry if you want, Na-young."
Those words burst the dam she'd held back.
I gently held her until the sobs stopped.