The Knot Begins to Tangle (1)
It had been a week since the new semester began, and this morning was shaping up to be no different from any other. I left the house at seven and passed through the school gate with a little more leisure in my step than usual.
I was cutting across the athletic field when I spotted a familiar silhouette in the distance. Standing there in the morning sunlight, a luxury-brand bag slung over one shoulder as though she'd only just arrived, was Jeong Hye-in.
Hmm… it should be fine to say hi first, right?
Two images crossed my mind: the way she'd claimed the seat next to mine all last week, quietly watching me sculpt—except for that very first day—and the utterly ruthless way she'd carried me to a crushing victory alongside Grand Master Choi Sua at the PC café.
Well, we'd gotten to know each other pretty well by now, and we were on talking terms, so I figured a simple greeting wouldn't be out of line.
"Hey there, Jeong Hye-in."
I walked up and offered the greeting without any ceremony, and she turned toward me with a flicker of surprise.
"Oh… ah, it's Sihun. Morning."
Once she'd confirmed it was my face, her expression softened and she gave a small wave.
"Why so surprised?"
"It's not exactly common to run into another student in front of the main building entrance at this hour."
"…Can't argue with that. Anyway, let's head in."
"Yeah."
We walked into the building side by side, and by the time we reached the third floor, I glanced up toward the upper levels and spoke.
"I'm heading to the fifth-floor workshop instead of the classroom today. What are you going to do?"
I wanted to check the texture and any cracks, to see how solidly the Agrippa bust had cured over the weekend in the shade.
"Oh, I'll come with you."
At my flat invitation, Hye-in nodded without a moment's hesitation.
After that, we made our way up to the fifth floor in silence. I unlocked the door with practiced ease and pushed open the multipurpose room. When I drew back the curtains by the window, the fully dried bust of Agrippa came into view.
"Ooh… you did a great job. It looks just like the ones I've seen on YouTube."
"……Hmm."
Half-ignoring Hye-in's enthusiastic admiration beside me, I turned the finished bust over this way and that, examining it closely. The proportions were accurate and the volume was solidly rendered. The hollows of the features, the sense of fullness in the cheeks—everything had come out textbook smooth.
But.
"I went with a perfectly ordinary, featureless face, so even though it's decently made, there's nothing special about it."
The dimensionality was excellent, but it lacked life. Rather than a work carved with soul poured into it, it was no more—and no less—than one of those generic practice plaster casts you'd find rolling around an art academy for college entrance exams.
…Well, the result itself hadn't turned out badly. The texture check was done, so it was time to put it away. Next time, I'd pick a proper model and sculpt something real.
Without a trace of regret, I turned around, opened the battered old locker tucked in one corner of the multipurpose room, pulled out the toolbox crammed with saws, pliers, knives, and every other tool I'd stashed there, and set it on the floor. From inside, I picked up a fairly heavy iron mallet.
I was just turning toward the work board, mallet loosely in hand, when—
"…Huh? Wh-what are you doing? Don't tell me… you're going to smash it?"
Hye-in, who had been about to settle quietly into her usual spot beside my designated seat, saw the mallet in my hand and spoke up in alarm.
I shrugged, unbothered, and raised the mallet a little higher.
"Yeah. The finished piece isn't bad, but it's not good enough to keep around and admire, either. I'm just going to break it down, knead the clay back up, and make something new. The material's not exactly cheap, you know."
At my eminently practical answer, Hye-in shot up from her chair.
"Th-then… don't smash it. I'll take it."
"……What?"
"I'll get you more clay to work with, so if you're going to break it, give it to me."
"……"
Stunned by the completely unexpected offer, I froze in the awkward pose, mallet still raised.
"This? Why would you want it?"
At my bewildered rebuttal, Hye-in seemed to finally realize how incoherently she'd blurted everything out. Her pale cheeks flushed the barest shade of pink, and she hurriedly avoided my gaze as she scrambled to come up with a plausible reason.
"Um… it's just, well, our living room feels way too empty, and I thought a sculpture like that would look nice in it. My parents are really into handmade crafts like this too…"
The living room of the Jungwoo Group chairman's house feels empty? And the wealthy elders of a chaebol family would adore a practice-model bust a high schooler hastily slapped together out of oil clay?
There was more than one thing I wanted to call out, but I held my tongue. Watching her covet and defend a piece I'd been about to destroy with such passion, my pride as a sculptor was quietly satisfied—and honestly, it felt pretty good.
I suppressed the twitch at the corner of my mouth as best I could and set the mallet down, feigning nonchalance.
"…Really? Well, if you want it that badly."
"Seriously?"
"But even though there's a wire armature inside, it's going to be pretty heavy. And the oil clay's nearly odorless, but there'll still be a noticeable oily smell."
"That doesn't matter. I can just ask a professional how to handle the smell and the upkeep."
At my question, Hye-in immediately pulled out her smartphone and firmly pressed a speed-dial number with practiced ease.
Less than ten minutes after the call ended—
Screeech!
The sliding door of the multipurpose room burst open, and the six hulking bodyguards in sunglasses I'd last seen at the PC café filed in with military precision. In their hands they carried a luxurious display case built from thick bulletproof glass, the kind you'd expect to house a national treasure.
…I'm sorry, what? A case like THAT for something like this?
And as if a single mistake would be unforgivable, the bodyguards used white-gloved hands to lift the Agrippa bust with the utmost care and settle it into the armored case.
"Transport preparation complete, my lady."
"Yes. Carry it slowly and carefully—don't let it get so much as a scratch."
The moment Hye-in gave her approval, they vanished with the same wind-like speed they'd arrived, carrying off my sculpture (?) and all.
I stared half-dazed at the empty work board, then at the door through which the guards had filed out, and let out a hollow laugh.
No, seriously—it's uncoated, so even if it broke, I could just mash it back together. Did we really need to deploy a bulletproof case?
Clicking my tongue once more at the sheer scale of capitalism, I realized I had, at some point, quite naturally dragged my chair over and planted myself right beside Hye-in.
So this is what it feels like to get a patron? A sponsor? Whatever you'd call it.
A chaebol heiress offering to buy me oil clay… how could I not be curious about the quality?
Still, I shouldn't let it show.
"Ahem. Anyway, now that that's settled—want to pick out what my next wood carving should be, together?"
I opened YouTube on my phone and pulled up image search results that might work as sculpting models. Hye-in leaned her upper body slightly toward me, her eyes drifting to the screen.
"Can I ask for something a little harder this time?"
"…As long as it's not some god-tier masterpiece level? I haven't exactly studied this professionally yet."
By the time we'd safely (?) escorted the Agrippa bust out and returned to the classroom, it was already well past eight thirty. I went back to my seat and set down my bag.
"Phew… made it safe."
I almost missed this morning's main event.
Today was the day of the club selection event—the flower of the new semester and an essential rite of passage in any dating sim. It was the crucial starting point where Lee Hyun-woo, the original male protagonist, would officially decide which club to join and plant his powerful first flag with a specific heroine.
The school, seemingly mindful of its importance, had set aside time during morning homeroom to hand out club flyers and fill out application forms.
I shuffled through the club application form and the dazzling array of promotional flyers that had been placed on my desk in advance.
Let's see. In the original, there were about four major clubs Hyun-woo could choose from.
The Broadcasting Club, the Band Club, the Theater Club, and a study group. Each one had a heroine posted in it, each showcasing her own distinct charm. Notably, the study club was home to Seo Yujin, the other main heroine of our Class 2-4.
The cold, exacting honor student, a student council officer, with that intellectual aura radiating out from behind her glasses.
Her obsessive perfectionism made her route fairly difficult, but it was one of the ones I'd personally played through the most. Would you call it a glasses-girl thing? Anyway, I wondered which way Hyun-woo's genuine tastes would lean, without any player interference—a spectator watching someone else play the game for them, I flipped through the flyers with interest.
And then it happened.
Screeech—!
Lee Hyun-woo, who on any normal day would burst in at 8:55 sharp yelling "safe," was, for reasons known only to him today, strolling in leisurely through the front door of the classroom.
"Kim Sihun! You're early today? Oh wait, you're always early."
He threw me a raised-hand greeting, dumped his bag onto his seat, and immediately leaned over my desk.
"You're looking at the club flyers, aren't you?"
"Yeah, they were all passed out on the desks already."
"Decided where you're going this year?"
"Nah, not yet. I'm thinking of slipping into something like the Manga Creation Club or the Library Club again—somewhere they'll let me be a ghost member like last year. My body's basically shackled to the fifth-floor multipurpose room anyway."
"Is that so?"
At my indifferent reply, Hyun-woo's interest visibly evaporated and he shrugged.
"Eh, do whatever you want, then. I'm planning on enjoying some proper youth this year."
With that, he flipped breezily through the flyers on his desk and began naturally running his own main event.
I watched with interest to see which heroine's route he'd board, and pulled my own club application form toward me. I'd be spending my time sculpting in the fifth-floor multipurpose room regardless, so the Library Club—lenient about attendance, just like last year—seemed perfect again.
I picked up my pen and was just about to write those three syllables—Li-brar-y Club—into the blank, when a faintly familiar whiff of expensive perfume drifted over from right beside me. I turned my head to find Hye-in standing next to my desk, apparently having caught our conversation from the start or having wandered over at some point.
Her face was utterly unreadable as she silently looked down at me and the application form in my hand.
"…Did you have something to say?"
"Um… I happened to overhear, and if you haven't decided on a club yet…"
Hye-in let her gaze drift toward the window at the front of the classroom as she continued.
"Someone—not really a friend, more like, just an acquaintance of mine—started a new club."
"……"
An acquaintance who wasn't quite a friend? Had Hye-in ever had such an ordinary human relationship?
While I was silently questioning that, she fidgeted, unable to keep still—whether out of intense embarrassment or simple unfamiliarity with the situation—and went on.
"To get official recognition, a club needs the minimum of five members, and right now they only have two, counting herself. If you're willing… would you join it with me?"