First Love Story

Bian (Vivi) SIDE.

It all started with that photo.

The picture of Wa Sol’s boyfriend that she sent to our Utopia group chat.

At first I only looked out of pure curiosity. No way someone like Wa Sol actually had a boyfriend.

How was I supposed to hold back?

“Ah…”

But the moment I saw the person in that photo, feelings I had buried for a long time came flooding back.

Longing. Regret. And a fluttering in my chest.

“Ga…chi?”

He was the boy I liked in high school… no, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the boy who liked me back. My first love.

I already knew why Gachi had suddenly vanished. The school had told us about his grades.

I knew. Our school was exactly that kind of place.

The way people talked about Gachi plummeted overnight, and even the kids who used to be his friends started laughing at him.

Of course I was no different from the rest. Back then I felt disappointed in him too.

Like an idiot. Without even knowing what was truly precious.

So I turned away from the lingering attachment still sitting inside me and buried it under the joy of getting into a decent university.

Then at university I discovered the freedom I never knew in high school, met all kinds of people, and finally understood.

What kind of man Gachi had been.

That there was no one else like him.

I know. This is just leftover attachment. Anyone who knew my situation would say the same thing.

That I was only reaping what I sowed.

But still… even so…

I know. I know, but… ah, seriously… I know!!!

I wanted to scream it. But Tita was listening to my endless complaining even though it had to be exhausting, so I couldn’t do that to her.

But with Wa Sol we might never be able to go back to the way we are now.

That was the meaning behind Tita’s words, and I shut my mouth.

In Utopia we have rankings we made among ourselves. Eve’s breast ranking—embarrassingly, I’m first. Tita’s energy ranking—I’m dead last.

Each of us picks a category we like and ranks everyone.

For the record, the ranking I made has Wa Sol at number one… and me at the bottom.

I felt bad for Tita, but emotions I could no longer control were about to spill out as something ugly, so I ended the call. Even after hanging up I didn’t touch my food. I just sat in the chair staring at the computer monitor.

It’s been a while since I felt like this.

Back when I happened to see the Utopia recruitment post that had already closed, I was also alone with the computer, drowning in leftover feelings for Gachi. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I should have just called him then.

Idiot.

“If only Gachi’s favorite had been Vivi instead of Eve. Then… no, if I had been Eve from the very beginning.”

Sorry to all the Hosu, but when it comes down to it I always put Gachi first.

If I had been Eve, maybe I would have had even a slim chance of taking him from Wa Sol.

“…Just now Gachi had completely finished sorting out his feelings for me. No lingering attachment left—only looking at his current girlfriend, Wa Sol.”

I felt a little bitter at that side of him. I almost snapped back hypocritically, asking how he could be like that.

I still can’t let go of the memories from that day.

“Haa. Should I put this heart to rest? This feeling that will never come again.”

I said it myself, and I know it’s the right answer. Setting aside the whole girlfriend-code issue, Gachi doesn’t look at me anymore.

On top of that—

Let’s not hurt Wa Sol.

Tita’s words from just a moment ago.

Anyone else, maybe. But hurting Wa Sol… that single fact weighed on me heavier than anything else.

“…If only Wa Sol were a really terrible person. Selfish, using people, phoning in her streams. If she were that kind of girl.”

I muttered to myself in the empty room.

Gachi SIDE.

It all started with the chance meeting with Bian.

I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I still felt weirdly guilty, so I just accepted every bit of Wa Sol’s sulking.

“Uuuu…”

“Hey, Wa Sol?”

“Uuuuuuuu.”

“Never mind. Let’s just stay like this.”

She nodded, clinging to me like a cicada.

Apparently she had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wanted to do this ever since I ran into Bian and had been holding it in until now, so I couldn’t really complain.

In the end I gave up trying to peel her off and just gently touched the ear of the Wa Sol stuck to my side.

She twitched.

I rolled her soft earlobe between my fingers, watching it slowly turn red, then whispered quietly.

“Your ears are a little sensitive, huh.”

“…They’re not.”

“Yeah? Then…” I gave the lobe a light lick.

“Hnnk.”

A much stronger reaction than before. Always fun no matter how many times I see it.

“Doesn’t seem like ‘not,’ does it?”

“I don’t know. Aaah!”

“Ugh!”

She suddenly dove under my shirt and bit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down on my chest, then started leaving a whole collection of teeth marks and kiss marks right there.

Before I knew it my entire chest was covered in markings that very clearly announced who I belonged to.

“Going to keep acting cocky?”

“…No. I won’t mess around again.”

“Hmph.”

Yeah, today I was supposed to be comforting her and I’d teased too much.

I gently stroked the head of Wa Sol as she rubbed her face against my chest. She seemed to like the feeling; her expression gradually relaxed under my hand until she looked peaceful again.

While that quiet moment stretched on, Wa Sol called my name.

“Gachi.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“If it were you, you’d probably not ask anything at a time like this, right?”

“…Yeah. I wouldn’t.”

If it were me, I wouldn’t. I never want to poke at someone’s past if they don’t want to talk about it.

But lately, thanks to Wa Sol, I’ve realized something.

Sometimes you have to bring the past out into the open.

“But if it were you, Wa Sol… you’d want me to ask, wouldn’t you?”

“…Is it okay?”

“Yeah. Ask me.”

She lifted her head at my words and our eyes met. I didn’t look away. To prove I meant it, I leaned in and lightly kissed her lips.

“…Mwah. Then I’ll ask.”

She kissed me back the same way, then quietly said,

“Tell me about your past with Bian. I want to hear Gachi’s first love story.”

“…Okay. I’ll tell you.”

Honestly it isn’t anything special.

Two people stuck in the suffocating life of exam prep who found their only sanctuary in each other and started falling.

A story that could happen at any school.

My dad has always been strict about studying.

So when I look back on my childhood, I was always studying. It wasn’t like I had no talent for it, and doing well meant praise, so that part itself wasn’t hard.

The problem was the high school I ended up in.

“Listen carefully. From now on, every student in this school will be judged by grades alone.”

Our school was famous even nationwide—over ninety percent of the students went on to top universities.

Of course Dad wanted me to get in.

I entered without much trouble.

“From this moment, the person sitting next to you is not a friend. They are a competitor. An enemy.”

It didn’t take long to realize that had been a terrible move.

Because I went to that school, studying started to feel unbearably stifling, and gradually the act of studying itself became painful.

I studied partly because I wanted to live up to Dad’s expectations, but also because learning something new was genuinely fun. Sometimes I’d take a test in a complete zone and the good results would give me real catharsis.

But that school valued the sadistic pleasure of crushing others more than any of that joy, and it forced you to mock anyone whose grades slipped.

Because of that atmosphere, my interest in studying slowly turned into nothing more than a way to run so I wouldn’t become one of those “losers.”

By the time just one semester had passed, I was already starting to absorb the school’s ideology.

That was when I met her.

“Sob… sniffle…”

A student sat alone at a convenience-store table, crying. Short brown hair, our school uniform, a cup of ramen that had already gone soft and bloated—she hadn’t taken a single bite. She was just crying.

That day the first-semester comprehensive rankings had gone up on the school site. I had checked my solid third-place result and was heading home with a quiet sense of relief.

“Choi… Bian?”

Looking closer, she was a girl from the same grade and same class. Even in a school that worshipped grades above everything, she was the pretty girl the guys quietly talked about.

Of course in a place that only valued scores, being pretty didn’t mean much—but we still had eyes, so it was impossible not to notice her at all.

On top of that the school had a strict no-dating rule, so even showing interest in the opposite sex got you side-eyed.

Normally I would have just walked past.

But I had already seen her like that.

A whim rose up… huh?

Why does that whim keep showing up? I-I don’t know either…

Huh? A whim that only appears when I see a pretty girl? Ah, no. That’s not it.

Hey, Wa Sol? This is the story you said you wanted to hear. Huh? Why are you diving under my shirt again… ugh!!