This Is Elementary School 2
Time flew by, and we grew up in leaps and bounds.
Over the six years of elementary school, Hyeokho and I ended up in the same class some years and different ones others. Whenever we shared a class, Mio was always in another; whenever we were separated, I invariably landed with Mio. I figured it had to be some leftover setting from the original comic.
Being in the same class with Mio a few times never made us particularly close. She always stayed a little apart from everyone, talking almost exclusively with Yuna.
That mysterious air of hers, combined with her cute, pretty looks, sometimes drew jealousy from the other girls. You know the type—little girls getting envious of the pretty, smart classmate and pulling childish stunts like hiding her indoor shoes or her bag.
Well, I quietly handled those things from behind the scenes. Nobody messes with our Mio!
How? Simple. I found every single hidden item myself. Kids trying to sneak something away and stash it might as well have been waving flags in front of me.
Did I hand them straight to Mio? Of course not. I made sure Hyeokho was the one who returned them.
If I’d just told him, “Hey, these are Mio’s,” he would’ve said, “You found them, so you give them back!” So I arranged the items where he would spot them, letting him think he’d discovered them on his own. Then I’d casually drop the line:
“Oh! Isn’t that the thing Mio had?”
Damn, even I had to admit it was a perfect plan. But things disappeared so often, and Hyeokho kept finding them all, that most of the time he’d just come back and say, “Mio says thanks,” and that would be the end of it. A little disappointing, sure, but building even a scrap of goodwill was what mattered.
And of course that wasn’t the only scheme I pulled. I went to every ridiculous length to push the two of them together. I’d dig up Mio’s schedule, call Hyeokho to the same spot under the pretense of meeting me, then no-show so they’d “coincidentally” run into each other. I got her schedule through Yuna. Somehow I’d ended up friendly with her.
Honestly, I still don’t know how it happened. One day I looked up and we were already on good terms. Not anywhere near the level of Somi or Hyeokho—just the kind of acquaintances who exchanged greetings and small talk.
If I asked what she was doing after school, she’d tell me which academy she was headed to. That was enough to map their routes, so I used it.
Calling Hyeokho and bailing, using Yuna… didn’t that make me a total bastard? Eh, I was used to playing the villain…
Still, I hadn’t gotten close just to use them. I genuinely thought of both as friends.
And it wasn’t a complete no-show either. If Mio never showed, Hyeokho would be left waiting alone, so I always watched from nearby. An elementary-school kid standing around forever because the person never came? No way. I stayed close just in case she didn’t pass by.
Even when they did meet, nothing much happened. A few words, then Mio and Hyeokho went their separate ways. Hyeokho, of course, waited because I’d called him there.
I never forced conversations with Yuna just to extract info either. People called her stiff, but that was only because she’d been raised like an emotionless machine as Mio’s bodyguard. Elementary-school Yuna wasn’t fully robotic yet; she even laughed at my jokes sometimes—very faintly, sure, but seeing her smile still felt good.
One item on my bucket list: make Yuna laugh out loud. Probably won’t be easy.
Anyway, I did everything I could to help Mio and Hyeokho get even a little closer. My efforts didn’t amount to much. They talked a bit, but Mio always drew a clear line. At least Hyeokho wasn’t the type to get discouraged by that.
Come on, Mio, he’s your future husband! Try being friends already!
Their relationship was going to progress on its own once high school started. Was I just being impatient? Still, how was I supposed to sit still when I could personally set them up…
Or maybe, just like their elementary classes were always split by some invisible rule, the story itself demanded they wait until high school for things to move forward. Or maybe most of the events that opened Mio’s heart were packed into the high-school years—after all, the two of them had bonded by overcoming hardships together.
Either way, I wasn’t quitting what I’d started. I was already hooked. Once you buy the dip, you hold. Yeah.
I sang the Mio-and-Hyeokho song a lot, but of course I didn’t spend every waking moment fretting over just those two. I had other relationships. The closest of them was Somi.
She lived right next door, so for all six years we walked to and from school together. Our parents grew close too; whenever one family went on a trip, the other came along, and we even slept over at each other’s places. Somi followed me around so devotedly that I treated her like a little sister.
The way she used to appear in my room at bedtime, hugging a pillow and asking, “Can I sleep with you tonight…?”—I’d never forget that. Our rooms were practically side by side; we could even climb through the windows to each other.
You know those childhood-friend tropes in comics where they hop through the window into each other’s rooms? That was us. Luckily we each had two windows, so neither room ever lost sunlight. Guess this world didn’t care about the right to sunshine either.
But that adorable version of Somi gradually vanished as the grades went up. I started calling the lower-grade Somi AngelSomi and the upper-grade one DevilSomi. AngelSomi was exactly that—an angel. She’d come sleep in my bed, pick out side dishes and feed them to me herself. A living, breathing cute little angel.
Wait—does she still feed me side dishes? Anyway. DevilSomi? She was like this… The sharp thuds of feet kicking me woke me up in bed, and then:
“Hey, Kim Jihoo, get up! We’re gonna be late because of you! If you want breakfast you’d better move!!”
She never used to be like this. Our Somi never used to be like this… How did our Somi turn into…
“Somi… how can you wake your big brother by kicking him… You’re supposed to shake him gently…”
“Haaah? Big brother my ass—your birthday’s later than mine! Always sleeping in, just get up already!”
Our AngelSomi used to lie down beside me when I wouldn’t wake and say, “Okay, five more minutes,” then gently shake me awake again… Sniff. Was this what a father felt when his daughter yelled “I hate you, Dad!”?
Even after she became DevilSomi, we still went everywhere together. Same academies, same next-door house—whenever we got bored we played. Games, or reading the comics she loved… any free time not spent with Hyeokho was almost always spent with Somi.
Actually, even when I hung out with Hyeokho, Somi was usually there too. Same class, after all. Hide-and-seek, tag, dodgeball—everything except the boys-only soccer games, we all played together.
Oh, and Somi and I were in the same class all six years. There was one time we got split, but she cried so hard the teacher switched us back. Guess things like that were possible in this world that wasn’t quite reality.
Aside from Hyeokho and Somi, I didn’t really have close friends my age. There were a few kids we played with, but you know elementary school—kids who aren’t especially close still hang out just because everyone’s around. So if you set those aside, Hyeokho and Somi were basically my only real friends.
Mio and Yuna… pure greeting-level acquaintances, so they didn’t count. We talked occasionally, but never actually played together.
That morning, after getting kicked awake by Somi, I headed to the kitchen with her for breakfast. She ate at our house a lot.
Actually, “a lot” was an understatement—it was almost every day. Coming over to wake me every morning had turned into a habit. I could get up on my own just fine, but I’d gotten used to her waking me, so now I just waited for it every day.
“Here, eat this. Chew slowly and carefully, okay?”
“Mm.”
Somi set a side dish on top of my rice as she spoke. She always did that during meals. And watching us, my mother would go:
“Hehehe…”
She always looked so pleased. Then came the inevitable line.
“Somi, are you going to marry Jihoo?”
“Wha—!? N-no… I… um…”
Somi’s face turned bright red as she floundered, and Mom laughed.
“Pfft. Somi, you’ve got to snatch a guy up fast, you know? Especially ones like our Jihoo—you have to make the first move! When I went after Jihoo’s dad~”
“Mom, you’re gonna make me choke…”
Another breakfast spent listening to Mom’s toxic romance advice and stories about Dad.
So among the people around me, if you set aside Somi and Hyeokho, who was closest? My parents, of course.
Dad was an engineer at a foreign semiconductor company. Mom had been working when she met him, got married, had me, and became a full-time housewife. Both of them were the kind of good people who would do anything for their son.
And because they were so good, the guilt only weighed heavier. They had no idea their real son had vanished and I’d taken his place, but I couldn’t help feeling sorry. They would have preferred their original child over a guy like me. So I tried even harder to be a better son for them.
It wasn’t just about studying hard. I kept asking myself, “What does a better son look like?” and scoured media for models to act out. Just listen well and get good grades and you’re a good son? Sure, some people think that.
But the good son I imagined was someone who argued and got scolded sometimes, who acted cute, who played around with his parents—someone without the empty shell of perfection.
So I didn’t always obey. Every now and then I’d break some ordinary rule and get an earful. We played sports together, watched variety shows, made real family time.
Before I knew it, I actually started enjoying spending time with them. I lived as if they really were my parents.
“~So if you really want to lock a guy down!”
Why does she listen so seriously every single time…
While I was thinking that, Somi was hanging on Mom’s every word.
“So Somi, starting now you should—”
Still going on about me this way and that. I had no idea why Somi paid such close attention. Sigh. Better just finish eating fast.
“I’m off.”
“Okay, have a good day~”
After that exhausting meal, I walked to school with Somi and thought:
Hmm… is romance-mania hereditary…?