Chapter 4: Why the Question "Why" Wouldn't Disappear
The next morning, my footsteps felt heavy on the way to school. Even as I passed through the school gates at Seonghyeon High School, I half-expected someone to grab me by the collar and shove a phone screen in my face. It's you, right? That's gotta be you. Every time that image flashed in my mind, the inside of my clenched fist grew slick with sweat.
Before opening the back door to the classroom, I took a deep breath. I'd decided to play dumb and deny everything, no matter what questions came flying. I gripped the handle and pulled.
Drag.
"Ah, damn it. What the hell are you doing in the jungle?"
"You're the idiot who pushed the lane. I couldn't even gank."
The classroom was peaceful. Just the usual morning scene in Class 1-2—nothing different from yesterday. A few kids clustered in groups, glued to their mobile games, while others up front changed into gym clothes and chatted noisily. No one paid me any mind.
I set my bag down and let out a quiet sigh. Haa. Had I been worrying over nothing?
Last night, as soon as I turned on the stream, over four hundred viewers had piled in. But that didn't mean the whole school would know overnight. Even if the Shorts kept circulating, it might just stay an internet thing.
Only then did my pounding heart start to settle. I sat down, opened my math notebook, and kept my eyes down like always. If I just laid low for a bit, this little mishap would fade away soon enough.
Days passed, and not a single person suspected or asked me about it. No one brought it up in front of me, and no one gave me suspicious glances. Little by little, I started to relax.
Maybe it's not a big deal after all. Just some video that blew up online for a day and died down.
By the third day, I was mostly convinced of that myself.
The problem reared its head again right before lunch. The bell rang, and as usual, I stood up with Tae-yoon and Sung-ho to grab some food.
"Hey, Kim Tae-yoon. Hitting the cafeteria shop today?"
"Yeah. Hold on, check this out. It popped up again—it's so freaking weird."
Tae-yoon replied without taking his eyes off his phone screen. Sung-ho sidled up next to him naturally. I glanced over casually—and froze in place.
Under the dim streetlamp glow, a guy in a mask and deep-hooded sweatshirt strummed a guitar. It was a recording from my stream. Someone had clipped it and uploaded it as a Short.
『Between the Darkened Windows』
The familiar guitar melody and voice leaked softly from the speaker. My voice.
"What's this?"
"It's still trending. Comments are going nuts."
Tae-yoon snickered as he scrolled through the Short. "Look. Top comment says it's Seonghyeon High School."
Sung-ho peered over Tae-yoon's shoulder and muttered low. "Huh? For real. Check the sleeve—it kinda looks like our spring uniform."
My heart started thumping again. I'd thought it was buried, but apparently not.
The internet's full of baseless rumors like that. I'd brushed it off, but hearing it from kids at our school hit different.
"Whoa, the song's insanely good though?"
Sung-ho let out a short whistle of admiration. "But that voice... doesn't it sound kinda familiar?"
……
My voice seeped from the phone speaker, clearer than it had any right to be. The video I'd thought was forgotten.
What I'd hoped was over and done with wasn't vanishing so easily.
Tae-yoon paused the video. "Hey. Hold up."
His eyes shifted from the screen to my face, then slowly scanned down to my throat and shoulders.
One flicker of hesitation in my eyes, and I was done for. Sung-ho twisted around, looking amused. These things always start as a joke. Even without proof, if it's fun, they'll drag it out forever.
I turned my head casually, acting bored. Better to reject it outright than hem and haw. No one would trash their own video that hard.
I glanced at Tae-yoon's phone and spat it out. "Why the hell would I do something that lame?"
"Nah, the voice and vibe are kinda similar."
"It's crap anyway."
I cut him off and flicked the screen away with my finger. "All style, no substance—the guitar work's sloppy. Over-the-top emotions."
It wasn't a lie. The guy on screen was just a fake, stealing songs from another world. If anything, I should've been the first to say it.
"The song structure's predictable too. Just recycling a few dramatic chords to set the mood. Weird that anyone's calling it good."
My words came out sharper than expected. Tae-yoon and Sung-ho blinked in unison.
"……Dude, the song's fire. Why you hating?"
Tae-yoon pocketed his phone, looking sheepish. But his gaze lingered.
Sung-ho shrugged. "Yeah, you're not the type to pull that attention-whore crap. You just breathe quietly and survive school."
"……The voice was really similar though."
They didn't press further. No hard evidence, and embarrassing themselves by ganging up on a classmate? Plus, no one would diss their own song like that.
I might not have fooled them completely. But it didn't matter. Suspicion wasn't certainty. Without proof, they couldn't say it out loud. Close enough to not caught.
That was my conclusion, at least.
"Let's eat. Donkatsu today."
Sung-ho turned first, and Tae-yoon let it drop. I finally exhaled the breath I'd been holding.
But it didn't end there.
On the way to the cafeteria, two kids from another class ahead of us giggled over their phones. In line for trays, that same melody drifted faintly from somewhere.
At my seat, someone two tables over burst out laughing while scrolling Shorts. "If this guy's really from Seonghyeon High, that'd be hilarious."
My grip tightened on my spoon without me realizing. I never looked up. Reacting would make me look more suspicious.
I don't remember if the donkatsu was good. Even how many spoonfuls of soup I ate is a blur. My ears rang with ambient noise, my mind stuck on that phone screen.
Lunch passed in a haze.
The real issue hit back in the classroom. Someone must've posted a screenshot on the school community—groups of two or three huddled over phones during breaks, more than before.
Some glanced my way. Others narrowed their eyes, comparing shoulders. Faces that weren't sure but were starting to wonder. React first, and I'm toast.
I stared at my textbook through fifth period. The chalk scratches, the teacher's voice—none of it registered.
Then, as fifth period ended, the front door got noisy. More kids than usual crowded around, peeking in from the hall.
And at the center, as expected, was Kang Min-woo. Flanked by second-year Broadcast Club seniors with different name tag colors.
The rumor I'd thought was dead had taken shape.
"Oh, there he is."
Kang Min-woo lit up when he saw me at the back door. We're screwed.
Of all people, him waiting for me.
"Hey. Grab lunch?"
"Why."
I shot back bluntly, and he chuckled. "Heard you were talking with Tae-yoon earlier. Word is, you match the description of who the seniors are looking for."
One Broadcast Club senior stepped forward. "Hey, no misunderstanding. Just wanna confirm. It popped up on the school community, so people are talking."
Another chimed in. "Voice was solid. If it's really one of ours, it'd be fun for the Broadcast Club."
Fun. That word grated.
To me, it was a disaster. To them, entertainment.
Kang Min-woo strode toward my desk. "I've felt it for a while—you're hiding a lot."
"Wrong guy. Not me."
I answered instantly, but he didn't back off. "C'mon, just check. If it's not you, we'll drop it."
The seniors formed a loose semicircle, intrigued. Escape routes blocked in seconds. The whole class's eyes locked on us. The air turned awkward fast.
Shows how easy it is for a nothing rumor to become a spectacle with a few more people.
"Shoulders look about right," one senior muttered, amused. "You play guitar by any chance?"
My chest tightened. Yell and storm off? Play it cool and pack my bag? Neither would shake this persistent protagonist and his audience.
Min-woo stood there leisurely, like he was waiting for me to squirm. Run, and I'd look guiltier. Hold out, and he'd dig forever.
Screech!
A harsh scrape echoed through the room. The one shoving back her chair was none other than Yoon Seo-ah.
"Shut up."
The classroom fell silent at her words. Even the rowdy Broadcast Club seniors and the ever-smiley Kang Min-woo blinked in surprise.
"……Yoon Seo-ah?"
"It's not him."
She glared at the whole group surrounding me, Min-woo included. "I passed by that park that day. The guy in the video? Totally different build from him."
I was stunned. It was a flimsy lie. But stated so definitively in the middle of the classroom, it shifted the momentum her way.
She hadn't even been near the park that day. So why step in as my shield?
The two seniors exchanged looks. The kids who'd been so sure moments ago hesitated.
One eyewitness account slips in, and people fold easier than you'd think.
Kang Min-woo seemed more intrigued by the situation. "Really? You saw it yourself? That's weird. You never care about other people's business."
"……"
"Jumping in to vouch for him like that— you two close or something?"
The classroom air shifted again, strangely. I held my breath without realizing.
After a brief silence, she spoke. "I just hate the classroom getting noisy. Don't make a fuss."
Her tone was firm, but her hand gripping the desk was tense.
Kang Min-woo alternated glances between us, searching for a connection with that relentless stare.
Finally, he shrugged lightly. "Alright. We'll call it here for today."
He smiled, but his eyes didn't. "But play guitar for me sometime. Now I'm really curious. Seniors, let's go."
The Broadcast Club crew turned reluctantly, still dubious. The hall onlookers dispersed with disappointed murmurs.
I stood there dazed, staring at Yoon Seo-ah's back. She'd returned to her seat and turned sharply to the window.
……Why?
First thought: disgust. If my identity as the video guy got out, it'd drag my past into the light. Someone would dig, and inevitably, our middle school connection would surface.
My name tainting her shiny life, even a little? Unbearable. So she'd stomped out the possibility preemptively.
……Yeah. That makes sense. Most plausible explanation.
But.
……Huh?
Her ear, turned toward the window. The tip peeking through her thick black hair was flushed red.
My mind tangled up. Did she just help me? Me? Why?
Back in the main building backyard, she'd frozen at the sight of me. So why help now?
Thoughts swirled chaotically. Her cold voice and that red ear tip refused to connect in my head.
No way to pin down this dissonance.
One thing was clear, though. Suspicion or not, Kang Min-woo had backed off. That was survivable.
If I could keep bluffing, I wasn't caught yet.
"Hey, Kim Tae-yoon. Gym clothes. Next period's on the field."
Tae-yoon slapped my shoulder. I nodded, forcing nonchalance, and tore my eyes from Yoon Seo-ah.
My head felt like it might explode. At least on the surface, crisis averted.
……
But why? The question "why" wouldn't disappear.