That Bastard's the One Who'll Steal My Virginity (2)
"It's okay, son. You'll do great there."
Before stepping out the front door, Ha-min's mother patted the back of her dejected son's slumped shoulders.
He'd bombed the entrance exam for his target high school. It wasn't for lack of preparation. It was just his usual knack for freezing up under pressure, combined with a dash of bad luck. Rotten timing.
He was confident he could've aced it if he'd wiped the slate clean and retaken the test. But as mentioned, high school entrance exams don't offer do-overs.
"So what if you didn't make it? That's not the end of the world."
"Even though I've been too busy to help you at all, you've been working so hard on your own. I'm just grateful for that. No matter what school you go to, I know our boy will shine. Mom's fine with it."
Ha-min's mother was kind-hearted and deeply loving toward her child. She wasn't the type to smack him upside the head or raise her voice over something like failing an entrance exam.
"Now it's all about studying for real."
Even without anyone saying it, Ha-min was the type to pile "responsibility" on his own back. He knew his mom truly wanted the best for him, no strings attached. That made him even more disappointed in himself for missing the goal he'd set—and for failing to make her happy with an acceptance letter.
"You're gonna sell all this secondhand? These are the manga and novels you loved."
"It's fine, Mom. I said I'd study properly once I got to high school."
Right before enrollment, he sorted through his beloved comics and novels. It was a self-flagellation for misjudging that he could slack off with hobbies and still get good results.
"Is it really okay to go to a school that far away? You won't know anyone there... Wouldn't it be better to transfer now and go somewhere closer to home?"
"No, it's fine. Knowing people would just distract me."
The high school he chose next was pretty far from home. By subway, it was an hour one way; pure commute time pushed it to two hours easy.
His plan for high school life was total study immersion. That meant minimizing time wasted chatting with friends.
And after all that big talk, since he'd flunked his target school, acting like nothing happened and going somewhere else would've bruised his pride too much.
"Guess I'm number one."
Students with long commutes don't get the luxury of choosing their arrival time. Sure, if it was just two or three stops, maybe. But no train schedule bends over backward for kids trekking two hours.
Thanks to that, Ha-min—living the farthest out of everyone—arrived at the classroom first on the entrance ceremony morning.
The only train slot from his station that guaranteed no tardiness was that one.
"Well, duh. Who in this school lives close enough to show up this early? No one's that crazy."
The school Ha-min picked as backup had lax admission standards—your standard liberal arts high school. Not one chasing top university placement rates; think local neighborhood spot for the kids around there. Old-school vibe.
With mostly locals attending, hardly anyone would know Ha-min or even recognize his face.
"Hoo..."
The chilly classroom felt like it was mockingly sneering at his botched first button. Ha-min swallowed his solitude there alone.
"Three years. Just three years."
Still the cold March morning air. Ha-min opened the window, letting the breeze hit his face as he psyched himself up. Just three years—he'd grind like hell, study his ass off, and fix that first mistake of his life.
Clang!
Mid-self-pep-talk—calling nearly a fifth of his life "just" to brainwash himself—the classroom door flew open with a racket. Ha-min whipped his head around.
"..."
A girl stood there, long black hair swaying against snow-white skin. She looked like the type who'd never set foot in school this early.
How could he tell? Simple. She was gorgeous.
He knew judging by looks was wrong. Plenty of famous pretty actors had killer academics and model lives too.
But in a classroom full of kids, beauty was power—and a chain. No matter how hard a stunner tried to study or live right, the crowd wouldn't let them. Opposite sex? Crush bait. Same sex? Envy or idol worship. They got dragged into the spotlight no matter what.
Actions fitting those biases got half-forced on them. That described most of the cute girls from Ha-min's middle school days. Especially the ones aware of their looks.
No way she doesn't know she's drop-dead gorgeous. That face screams it.
Just a glimpse, but the girl's image burned into Do Ha-min's brain. Scour his 15 years, and she'd top the looks chart easy.
Stuck alone in a room with her—a situation that'd normally spike his nerves—actually relaxed him.
At least she won't talk to me.
Ha-min knew his place. So he figured she'd ignore him.
He considered popping in earbuds and fake-sleeping like in middle school but nixed it. Too risky missing the entrance ceremony announcement blind.
He quietly turned back to the window.
Girls like that might even hate being stared at by someone like him.
Better do some prep work. If I'm here this early anyway.
Ha-min calmly pulled a workbook from his bag. Show he was a serious student prepping for upcoming tests from day one. Plus, signaling he was from another world should make her ignore him more.
Thud. Thud.
But against his expectations, the girl headed straight his way. No earbuds meant her footsteps grew louder, crystal clear.
Why's she coming over here?
Maybe mad he stole her seat? She passed the third and second rows, zeroing in on the back-row window seat where Ha-min sat—the one he'd snagged thinking it empty.
He'd picked it to avoid looking like a goody-goody teacher's pet up front.
Should he move to the front near the podium, model-student territory? But bailing without a word would scream "scaredy-cat" if she called him out.
With no onlookers, now was the time to stand his ground against her type—who thrived in crowds.
Ha-min bit his lower lip and stared straight at the approaching girl.
She's huge...
Her shadow swallowed Ha-min in his chair. Long legs, small face—made her seem even taller. Easily over 170cm. Even if he stood, the gap wouldn't flip.
Of course, other parts were huge too. No need to specify where.
Her shadowed eyes pierced him sharply.
"..."
Her face screamed pissed-off. Hurt from that quick glance? Or from his eyes flicking lower, to those bigger-than-her-face assets?
Up close, her expression broadcast more than beauty—raw irritation. Looking down at him, it brimmed with inexplicable displeasure.
Scrape. Grroowl.
Instinctively, Ha-min shoved his chair back for distance. But she leaned in closer, no pretense of hiding it now.
"...D-Do you need something from me?"
Heads almost touching, he mustered the courage to croak it out.
Thud.
But she reached past his shoulder, slamming the open window behind him shut.
"Haa... tch. Fucking freezing."
"...Oh."
Puff.
Only then, seeing her white breath, did it click. Her business wasn't with him—it was with the still-chilly March air.
Relief flooded him. Of course.
"Hoo..."
Ha-min sighed deep, hand over his chest. Yeah, as if someone like her would bother with me. Confirming the obvious bitter truth, but damn, he felt safe.
Good. Just nod vaguely and finish prepping.
Scraaape.
Relieved it wasn't about him, Ha-min snapped his head sideways at the sudden chair drag beside him.
...Huh?
He'd figured she'd close the window and bounce. But she lingered by his side, weirdly.
"Hey."
Her sunken voice stabbed his ear, mood sour.
"Move that bag."
She pointed at the one on the chair to his right. When he grabbed it, she nodded like yep.
"M-Move...? Why?"
"Gonna sit next to you."
Why the hell?
She straight-up claimed the seat right beside him.
"No one's reserved this spot, right?"
"Uh, n-no..."
"Eh, I'd sit anyway."
With that, she yanked the chair over and plopped down. No chance to protest. Hell, he didn't even know how.
He'd heard "that's my seat," but never "I'm sitting next to you."
"..."
"..."
An odd silence stretched between them, unfit for bustling entrance ceremony morning.
Ha-min had no clue how to break the ice sitting next to a peer girl. 10 seconds, 30, a minute... The clock's tick from the back grew louder than any voice.
"Ah, I wanna have sex."
"Huh?"
The girl spoke first.