As a Childhood Friend
Having sent her congratulatory message to Yoosung, Noel Lapis lay on her bed, her eyes fixed on her phone screen.
He's probably resting right now, so he won't reply immediately.
The thought had barely crossed her mind when the read receipt vanished.
"...!"
A moment later, a new message popped up.
It had arrived far faster than she anticipated.
No way... was he waiting for my text?
No matter how much she thought about it, there was no other explanation.
He always was the type to let pride get in the way over the pettiest things.
Even if he desperately wanted to text her first and ask if she had watched his duel, his stubborn personality would have held him back, leaving him with no choice but to wait. Imagining him clutching his phone after the tournament, craning his neck in agonizing anticipation for a notification from her, stirred a mixture of pity and amusement in her chest.
You could afford to be a little more confident, you idiot. Even after fighting like that, you haven't changed one bit.
Had he placed a call, she would have at least indulged him by picking up. Yet the absolute limit of his courage was merely firing back a reply to her text.
Noel hovered her fingers over the keyboard to type a response, then hesitated.
It wasn't that she had nothing to say. In truth, there was plenty she wanted to talk about.
But... if I text back right now, he might get complacent.
She decided she needed to act a little distant. She wanted to see just how high Han Yoosung could climb—she wanted to observe his true potential. He had dispatched Walker with such effortless ease; securing a spot among the final four representatives should be well within his grasp.
If she replied warmly now, Yoosung would feel as though he had already achieved his greatest desire: mending his rift with his childhood friend. And if he felt satisfied this early, wouldn't it dull his current edge? He had finally seized an opportunity to grow, and letting it fizzle out here would be a tragic waste.
...Let's watch a little longer.
This was not merely the concern of a childhood friend, but the calculated conduct of a woman weighing Yoosung's future prospects.
A vivid image of the near future flashed unbidden in her mind.
...Will the confession happen then?
There was a long-standing tradition held after the academy representative selections concluded: a ceremony where the final four representatives took the stage before the entire student body to share their resolutions and reflections. While its original purpose was to rally support for the students advancing to the Imperial Festival, it had earned a far more notorious reputation among the student body.
Every now and then, a representative would use that very stage to confess their feelings to someone they loved.
Some declared their devotion to existing partners, while others took the leap to bare their long-harbored affections for the first time. Consequently, whenever the announcement ceremony drew near, the hottest topic in the corridors was always who would make a public confession that year.
Noel had witnessed the spectacle several times herself. In her first year, watching the third-year seniors confess under the blinding spotlight, she had secretly yearned to become the heroine of that very stage.
I thought... it had nothing to do with me.
Back then, she had idly murmured to herself:
"I want to be confessed to like that someday, too."
What if Yoosung had never forgotten those words? What if he had entered the Imperial Festival selections solely to make her wish come true?
I would... have no choice but to accept his feelings.
Of course, Yoosung's reputation was still in the gutter, but by that time graduation would be right around the corner. She wouldn't have to walk on eggshells around other people's opinions anymore.
To think he was planning something like that without dropping a single hint...
Noel resolved to give Yoosung a clear answer when the moment arrived. She told herself she could no longer cower behind excuses or avoid him out of fear of what others might think.
The scene unfolded naturally in her imagination.
The great hall packed with the entire student body.
Yoosung standing proudly upon the stage as a representative.
His eyes sweeping through the sea of faces, locking onto hers in the audience.
"Every time I fell, the only reason I could stand back up was Noel Lapis!"
"Noel! I don't want to hide it anymore. Please, go out with me!"
The auditorium erupting into thunderous cheers and deafening whistles.
And amidst the roar, she would rise to her feet like the leading lady of a romance film, smiling radiantly as she delivered her answer.
"Yes!"
With that resolve settled, she decided against replying.
Her cheeks burned red, prompting her to shove open the window. A refreshing breeze swept in, pleasantly caressing her skin. Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself when only the first round had concluded. Even so, she could feel it in her bones: the day her daydream materialized into reality was not far off.
Show me a little more, Yoosung.
Show me just how high you can climb.
And show me whether you can truly move my heart.
She decided to exercise some patience and wait.
Receiving a text from Noel had caught me somewhat off guard.
She claimed she had watched my duel in person. On second thought, however, there was nothing particularly strange about it. The selection tournament had seized the attention of the entire academy, and my opponent was Walker, widely considered a prime contender for the representative roster. It was an event people would flock to see even without having any personal ties to me.
A simple reply seemed appropriate.
Not that I harbored any hidden motives. My mother had always taught me to offer thanks whenever someone extended their congratulations.
That was plenty.
Had anyone else sent me the exact same message, my response would have been identical. It was basic courtesy for someone who took the time to watch the match and offer their regards—nothing more, nothing less.
Tomorrow's the day.
Strangely enough, I found myself genuinely looking forward to going to school. It was an absolute first since enrolling in this academy. Walker's face, completely stripped of that greasy golden mane—the sheer anticipation of seeing that expression was exhilarating.
The following morning, I headed straight for Walker's classroom the moment I arrived, but he was nowhere to be found. When the first period ended, I checked back during the break, yet his desk remained empty.
Did that bastard run away?
I wondered if he had skipped school entirely, but our academy operated on a strict boarding system. Unless he intended to barricade himself inside his dormitory room for the rest of his life, he would have to show his face sooner or later.
After a moment's contemplation, a single location crossed my mind.
Could he be at the Swordsmanship Club?
It had been ages since I last set foot in the Swordsmanship Club Training Ground. If Walker assumed I would avoid the place out of lingering discomfort, it was a surprisingly plausible hiding spot.
Of course, his calculation was entirely wrong.
Whatever glances or whispers people threw my way didn't matter half as much as claiming Walker's hair.
In a corner of the Swordsmanship Club Training Ground, Erika stared at Walker in utter disbelief.
"So... you're asking me to stop Han Yoosung?"
"I'm begging you, Erika!"
Walker had shed every shred of his usual haughty arrogance, his hands pressed together in a desperate plea.
Erika found herself thoroughly exasperated. She had never anticipated being cornered with such an absurd request. During yesterday's duel, Yoosung had explicitly ordered him before the entire arena to shave his head completely bald. Erika had watched the match with her own eyes and heard every word.
Yet Walker was ditching classes and cowering in corners just to evade him instead of keeping his word. The sheer pathetic display turned her stomach.
"You made your bed, so lie in it. Take this as a chance to learn what responsibility means."
"Erika! You've been close with Yoosung since you were kids, haven't you?!"
"What does that have to do with you?"
"You're childhood friends! He'll at least listen to you a little! Don't tell me you two still haven't made up? Did you actually cut ties for good?!"
"Watch your mouth."
Erika had zero patience for Walker's loose tongue. Yoosung had seemed slightly prickly with her lately, sure, but he had tried to offer her a canned drink the other day, and he had followed along obediently when she told him to step outside. If their bond was truly broken, he would have brushed her off; he would have had no reason to extend even an ounce of goodwill.
In fact, she felt she finally understood why Yoosung had been so irritable back then.
He was upset because I assumed he would lose from the very start.
To hear that from her, of all people—a friend of ten years who refused to place even an ounce of faith in his abilities—it was only natural that his pride had taken a hit.
Though after claiming he trained all alone, it wasn't like anyone could have expected him to win...
It all stemmed from Yoosung's stubborn refusal to be straightforward. Perhaps he had wanted to prove his progress through tangible results rather than hollow words. Even so, yesterday's outcome had thoroughly shocked her.
"Cutting ties? Don't be ridiculous. We just had a few disagreements, but we're still childhood friends."
Over the span of ten years, their relationship had hardly been smooth sailing every single day. They had argued, squabbled, and traded blows countless times before.
"Thank the heavens! Then please, I'm begging you!"
"I refuse."
"You know how much I treasure my hair! I spend hours grooming it every single day!"
"Why not take this opportunity to get a nice, refreshing buzz cut?"
If he did, the flock of girls wouldn't crowd around the training ground shrieking and causing a racket anymore either.
"Do you have any idea how many years I spent growing this out?! Please, Erika, I'm serious! There's no one else in this entire academy who can stand up to him for me!"
Personally, Erika despised shallow, pretentious men like Walker. Even so, as members of the same Swordsmanship Club, she felt a microscopic sliver of camaraderie.
"Just once. Please, help me just this once."
Having him grovel like this made it difficult to remain entirely cold-hearted. In all honesty, she knew he deserved every bit of what was coming to him. She had heard the venom Walker spat at Yoosung leading up to the duel—running his mouth the day before, openly threatening to cripple Yoosung once he won. To act like that, only to go into hiding the second he lost because he couldn't stomach the forfeit, was utterly disgraceful.
From a moral standpoint, he didn't deserve an ounce of pity. But dealing with Walker's relentless whining was draining her sanity.
Knowing him, he'll cling to me like a stray dog until I give in.
Erika decided to compromise. If putting an end to this mess could finally humble Walker and keep him quiet, it would benefit the Swordsmanship Club as a whole.
"Fine."
At those words, Walker's miserable expression brightened instantly.
"Really?!"
"On one condition."
"Anything! Just say the word!"
"Stop causing senseless ruckuses in the club from now on. And tone down the obnoxious swagger in front of the underclassmen."
"That's a bit..."
"Would you rather shave your head bald?"
"Deal! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Walker bobbed his head in frantic agreement.
Erika let out a tired sigh.
"I'll try talking to him."
"I knew I could count on you, Erika!"
Right at that moment, the training ground doors slid open. Expecting another club member to walk in, Erika glanced over.
It wasn't a club member.
It was Han Yoosung.