Conflict and Reconciliation
"…Geum Taeyang?"
"Uh, Lethe, I think there might be a bit of a misunderstanding."
Strange didn't even begin to cover it. A beautiful woman and a handsome man stood facing each other, addressing one another by the most peculiar of names. Rage filled her eyes. Bewilderment filled his.
"Oppa…? Do you know her?"
"I know her, but…"
He'd figured they would never meet in person, that if he just kept the teasing in check it would all be fine—and so Seong Yuhan had spent his streams needling Ari for sport. This accidental encounter hit him that much harder. Had they run into each other later, the feelings might have cooled. Instead, the two of them had been on terrible terms until mere moments ago.
He already knew she'd had a mental break and abruptly gone on a four-day streaming hiatus, and given the timing, sharp-eyed as he was, Yuhan had more or less guessed that he was part of the reason. That same quick read of the room told him something here was badly, badly off. The revulsion on their faces, the direction it was aimed, and the relationships involved—there had to be a massive misunderstanding at work.
"Lethe, could we talk for a second, just the two of us…?!"
"You piece of trash! You came all the way to an orphanage to pull this shit?!"
A hard life and a string of part-time jobs had taught Yuhan to keep a certain composure no matter what got thrown at him, and he was doing his best to take in the situation as calmly as he could. Ari, however, was another story.
She had walked an elite path her entire life and remained at the very top among students in the country. Her home was harmonious, her parents were wealthy, and she had mostly associated with people of decent character. That formidable mind of hers always produced logical conclusions and excelled at finding the grounds for the right answer. In ordinary circumstances she kept herself thoroughly in check—but there were times when that control simply failed her.
Whenever she went up against someone hostile.
It had been that way as a child, squaring off against the scary older girls in the neighborhood, and again in her school days, arguing with the class delinquents. Ari had never been good at governing herself in those moments. And meeting Yuhan now, to her, belonged in exactly that category: a confrontation with someone who stood on the opposite side.
Yuhan felt no particular animosity toward Ari. Ari did not see it that way. Her reason had already slipped its leash, and her judgment had long since gone cloudy. The urge to save the child caught in Geum Taeyang's grip tangled with the conviction that you could never, ever let a delinquent look down on you—and Ari lunged, reaching for his collar.
Or rather, she tried to. She would have, if Sehee hadn't stepped in between them.
"Who the hell are you to talk to Oppa like that?!"
Sehee's shout planted bewilderment on Ari's face. That mind she so prided herself on could not keep up with what was happening.
"What… I was trying to help you…!"
Smack.
A bright, ringing crack. Sehee had slapped Ari across the cheek. Silence dropped over them like a curtain.
"What's a woman doing charging in to hit a man?"
Ari's expression went rigid in an instant. The delinquents she had met in her life had all had their limits. They understood perfectly well that throwing a punch would wreck their school lives, and worry for that life—and for their futures—always sat somewhere in them. Because of that, Ari had never been hit by anyone.
Being struck for the first time in her life was shocking enough. It didn't end there. A child who had decided she was being threatened had hit Ari in order to protect the man Ari had decided was the threat. There was only one thing that could mean.
The thought that her own judgment had been wrong flashed through Ari's mind.
She had never once in her life believed she had made a wrong call, and in practice her judgment had always landed exactly on target. And now, because of a mistake in that judgment, she had tried to overpower a man with force. Six people had witnessed it. There was no wriggling out. She had tried to hit a man because she had been wrong.
Ari could not hold on to her composure.
"…Did I really look that much like a delinquent to you? Like I was going around threatening kids?"
"I'm sorry… I truly have nothing I can say…"
A café near the orphanage. At a table in the corner sat me and one beautiful woman. Her name was… unknown. Her handle was Lethe. A woman I sure seemed to keep getting tangled up with.
I usually kept my head even in embarrassing situations, but a little while ago I had genuinely thought I might lose my mind. I could understand how the scene might have looked, but Lethe had still gone off like a rocket I never saw coming, the women behind her had been glaring at me like I was the enemy with cameras in their hands, and then there was Sehee hitting Lethe on top of it. A mess didn't get messier than that.
Lethe had looked in genuinely bad shape, Sehee had been far too worked up after I'd nearly been in danger, and if the noise drew the orphanage staff over it would have been awkward for everyone—so we'd agreed to scatter for the moment, and I'd peeled Lethe off and brought her here alone.
Right. For two people who had never even met, we'd already been through a lot. It was time we actually talked.
"Still shaking that badly? Try to loosen up a little."
"Y-yes. I'll try."
"……"
"W-why are you looking at me like that…"
"Was getting hit that much of a shock? Well—I guess it would be."
"No… being hit is fine. It's that I tried to hit you…"
Talking to her, I got the sense she'd lived a gentler life than I'd expected. Born a woman in this world and she'd grown up without a single fight? Well, it wasn't as if everyone went around throwing punches.
"Pfft. Weren't we done with that? Did you honestly think one of your punches was going to land on me?"
"Uh… no…"
"You're not supposed to say no to that."
"I'm sorry…"
Variations on the same conversation, over and over. It took a fair while before Lethe finally unwound. If I hadn't accepted her apology, she looked ready to extend that streaming hiatus another week. Watching her beat herself up like that, there wasn't much reason not to accept it.
Once she'd relaxed, the talk was what you'd expect—the feelings that had piled up between us over the past few days, apologies for the same. Sometimes the kind of incident that looks ready to curdle into a real grudge comes apart with a little conversation. And a single word of apology can start building a bond.
Our interest was internet streaming. Our work was internet streaming. Even going back over that day's broadcast after it ended. The vibe we gave off could not have been more different, but we had a surprising amount in common. Before I knew it, we had become pretty good friends.
"So you come here every week, Taeyang?"
"That's right. It's the place I'm most comfortable, and the Director's always short-handed. Helping out just makes sense, doesn't it?"
"But you only get one day off a week. Wouldn't it be nicer to see friends or something?"
"Mm… I don't have any friends. Not that I wouldn't still come even if I did."
Lethe looked at me like that was the most fascinating thing she'd ever heard. When I asked if it was really that interesting, she started telling me about herself. About her boyfriend. About the difference of opinion they'd had over volunteer work, and the friction that had come of it.
Honestly, I didn't really get it. What was so bad about your girlfriend doing something good? And from the sound of it, it was only once in a while anyway.
"Doesn't seem like something to get that angry over… If you're doing a good thing, isn't that just a good thing? It's not like you're out volunteering every single day."
"Oh… that's how you see it?"
"Well, that's how it is, isn't it?"
"…That's impressive."
"Heh heh. It's not that big a deal."
The longer we talked, the more I felt how easily the conversation flowed. A new topic would come up, we'd turn it over, and before long we'd find ourselves saying the same thing. With every round of that, my estimation of Lethe climbed. The way she treated me had completely changed by then, too.
Even so, the conversation didn't run all that long. Bad as the day had started, we hadn't come here to hang out. We'd gathered for volunteer work. It was time to head back.
"Lethe. I'll talk to the kids, so don't worry about it—just keep shooting the content you were working on."
"What? I was thinking I should just cancel and go home… I've already made a lot of mistakes today."
"You already apologized plenty, didn't you? If you still feel that bad about it, we can do a collab stream or something later."
"Th-that wouldn't be nearly enough!"
She really did have a lot she felt sorry for. I wasn't even asking for anything.
From what I'd heard, her content sounded pretty solid. It would clearly do our orphanage some good, too. And more than anything, it was the content she'd insisted on shooting even while fighting with her boyfriend. I wasn't the kind of jerk who'd get in the way of that.
"It's fine. It's the content you wanted to shoot, right? Ah—come to think of it, what's your name, Lethe? We still don't even know each other's names or ages, do we?"
"Ah… my name is Seol Ari. I'm twenty-three. And you, Taeyang?"
"Hmm…"
Ari's face was remarkably bright. Relief and happiness sat in the curve of her eyes. I hadn't felt uncomfortable before, but we'd gotten close in a short time, and we couldn't keep calling each other by our handles forever. She'd looked fairly young when I first saw her, and sure enough, she was. Same age as me.
We really did have a lot in common.
It had happened in a rush, but she was the first friend I'd made. A same-age friend, no less.
"Seong Yuhan."
"Twenty-three."
I said it with a bright smile.
"Let's go, Ari."
A faint flush rose to Ari's face.
Very faint.