Fighting!

Just as Soye and I were growing closer—watching movies together at school, slipping into an easier kind of warmth—the first real trial of my transmigrated life arrived.

The name of that trial was the mock exam.

That's right. The mock exam. The practice test you sit through to prepare for the college entrance exam that puts a bow on three years of high school. And that mock exam was today.

"Haaaaah...."

Of course, unless you're a third-year staring down the real thing, a mock exam doesn't carry that much weight. In my case, though, it was a little different. Until not long ago, I had been a twenty-three-year-old college student. The kind of painfully ordinary college student who had long since forgotten everything about high school and was just quietly working on his graduation thesis. Asking someone like that to go back and do all the things he'd already done as a teenager was, to put it mildly, a lot.

Which meant I needed this mock exam to show me, objectively, where I stood—and to build a study plan that actually fit. Soye was obviously the first priority in this life, but that didn't mean I could just coast through the rest of it.

So I sat down and took this mock exam like it was the real thing.

Korean Language first, then math, then English, then Korean History, and finally Integrated Social Studies and Integrated Science. I finished every subject, graded everything against the answer key the teacher handed out, and arrived at a single, crystalline conclusion.

I was fucked.

Like—actually, genuinely fucked.

I'd known I'd forgotten a lot. I had not known I had forgotten this much. Korean Language landed in the sixties, since I missed almost every inference question. Math sat in the fifties, because I only managed the two-point basic calculations and a handful of the three-point problems that just needed a little extra arithmetic. English scraped into the sixties on the back of the listening section they basically hand you points for, plus the easy questions clustered up front; I guessed on everything else.

Integrated Social Studies and Integrated Science? Besides the bits that were just common sense, I got all of it wrong. The scores were too embarrassing to say out loud.

The only one I did decently on was Korean History. Then again, Korean History is easy.

...No. If that's what I'm using to console myself, I think I actually bombed this pretty badly.

I was staring at my score sheet with a face like a funeral when Kim Haneul sidled up and started giving me a hard time.

"Hey, hey, heeey. Did ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you bomb it?"

"...Could you maybe shut up?"

"Sooo, what's the score~"

"I said I don't want to talk about it."

"What, like a fifty or sixty in Korean and math? English maybe around a forty?"

"I got a sixty in English."

"Oh. You held the line better than I thought."

By this bastard's standards, a sixty in English is holding the line?

The longer this went on, the more I just wanted to sigh. I didn't even have a clue where or how to start studying again.

With the grading done, I had no reason to stick around. I packed my things and stood up.

"I'm heading out first."

"Sure~ Byeee~ Oh, right. You know the Drama Club's meeting tomorrow, yeah?"

"I know."

I tossed him a half-hearted goodbye and walked out, heading straight down toward ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the front gate.

I was sighing like I wanted the ground to swallow me whole when a greeting rang in my ears—warm, bright, and almost unfairly nice to hear.

"Hello, sunbae...!"

I turned toward that soft, sunny voice, and sure enough, Soye was bowing her head.

"Junior Soye... no. Hey, Soye. Hi."

"Sunbae, you worked so hard on the mock exam!"

"Yeah. You too."

Even as I answered, a sigh slipped out on its own. I didn't want her to see me like this, but my head was such a mess I couldn't help it. When I let out that long, heavy breath, Soye asked her next question very carefully.

"Jaeha-sunbae. About the test, um..."

"...Soye. A sigh like mine carries a great many meanings."

"Ah...."

The sympathy in her voice only made my chest hurt more.

"How did you do?"

"Me? Hmm...."

Soye started reading the room, glancing at me like she was gauging whether this was safe, and then she pulled her self-scored answer sheet out of her bag and held it out. The scores on that sheet were so beautiful they stood in perfect, brutal contrast to my utterly pathetic ones. Not even in the same league.

"...You're really smart, Soye. Unlike me."

"That's not true...! You can do it too, sunbae...!"

Soye. Do you have any idea that sometimes that pure cheering and comfort of yours can be a crushing kind of pain for someone else?

Then again, a kid this pure and kind wouldn't have the faintest clue. How could she?

"Haaaaah... I think I need to start over from first-year material... I didn't understand any of it...."

"Ah...."

That little sound of hers made me want to crawl into a hole. I really hadn't wanted her to see me like this.

"Still, if you study hard starting now... don't you think you could get a really good score on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the actual exam...?"

She didn't even float the idea of getting in on school records, already writing my first year off as a lost cause. Even that was so painfully sharp of her. That's our Soye.

"Yeah... I guess I have to... huuuuh...."

A long, worried sigh. And before it had even finished leaving my mouth, Soye asked another question, careful as ever.

"Um... sunbae, are you thinking of doing evening self-study next month...?"

"Evening self-study?"

"Yes...."

Evening self-study... evening self-study, huh.

"I dunno... I don't really feel like doing it. What about you?"

"I'm going to try it. Mom said now that I'm in high school, I should give it a shot at least once..."

Evening self-study at Cheongyeon High School is completely voluntary. If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. And she was still making her daughter go? Soye's mother was a real Spartan.

Anyway. Evening self-study.

I had a feeling my motives were a little transparent, but I figured I might as well float the idea.

"...Maybe I should try evening self-study too?"

"I think that's a great idea...!"

"You really think so...?"

"Yes...! People say the environment matters when you're studying, right?"

There is that saying, yeah. It's not for nothing that well-off moms pack up and move into the good school districts.

"Then I guess I'll see you at evening self-study next semester."

"Ah... is that how it works...?"

"You didn't know? At our school, first- and second-years do evening self-study in the library."

For the record, evening self-study at Cheongyeon High School is held in the library for first- and second-years, and in the reading room for third-years. And the reason I know that is because there was an event where Seon Woobin, who was doing evening self-study, spent the whole time getting lovey-dovey with the other heroines in the library.

Soye, meanwhile, nodded slowly, as if she genuinely hadn't known.

"I had no idea...."

"Got it. Anyway, first- and second-years are in the library. Honestly, the library's not bad. The chairs are more comfortable, and since it's on the first floor, it's easier to head straight home when you're done."

"Pfft... is that really what matters?"

"It matters a lot. Once evening self-study lets out, you want to get off campus even one minute sooner."

"It sounds like you've done evening self-study before, sunbae."

Evening self-study? Oh, I'd done it. In my previous life, of course. I'd tried it for exactly one month because I hadn't wanted to go back to the orphanage, then decided looking after the younger kids there was the better deal and quit. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It was absolutely not because evening self-study was hard. Anyway, it wasn't.

That said... as long as we were on the subject, I figured I might as well ask her everything I wanted to ask.

"Hey, Soye."

"Yes, sunbae."

"Is there a workbook you'd recommend? Something actually decent to study from?"

This world was, after all, the inside of a novel. There was a chance things were different from the reality I'd lived in—including the workbooks—so I figured I'd ask. Soye thought for a second, then started tapping away at something on her phone.

A moment later, a KokoaTalk message arrived from her. The workbooks she'd found were right there on the screen.

"Soye, these are..."

"They're the ones I use when I study, by subject. They go from the concepts all the way through problems by difficulty, so I think if you buy those and work through them, you should be okay."

Soye really might have been light itself. A pathetic senior who couldn't even solve first-year problems, standing there announcing he was going to start over from the beginning—and she'd gone and looked up a workbook for every subject just for him.

"I will... I'll study hard. I promise."

Watching her cheer me on like that, both hands squeezed into tight little fists, I had the sudden urge to capture it on video. That's how cute she was. That's how much strength it gave me.

Maybe that was why I felt like teasing her with another mischievous question.

"Hey, Soye. If we end up doing evening self-study together, can I ask you about the problems I don't get?"

"Of course! Teaching someone else is actually amaaazing for your own studying, you know."

I'd tossed out a playful little question, hoping to fluster her, and she'd countered with an answer so earnest it almost hurt. Teasing Soye, in more ways than one, just didn't seem to land. Unless something was blatantly, obviously a joke, she took it completely seriously.

I guess you could say she had a bit of a literal streak. But even that stiff earnestness was so Soye that it was adorable.

"Soye, your bus is coming."

"Oh, you're right. Sunbae, I'll get going!"

"Go on~ Thanks for today~"

"Yes, sunbae...! See you tomorrow...!"

Soye headed for the bus, waving her hands in that same little flutter as always. And just like always, I stood there and watched her go.