Chapter 19
It was a naked confession—the one win I'd barely managed to snag. And it was thanks to no one other than Ha-young, who had endured her shame to secure it for us. I couldn't back down here.
I slowly walked forward to the front of the stage. Na Ye-jin was approaching from the opposite side. She wore a relaxed smile. A confident stride. An expression like she'd already won. Her yellow hair swayed with each step. Sharp features, bold eyes. Even in the same lab clothes, her vibe was completely different. She might not be Team A's leader, but she was definitely the most eye-catching one there.
Normally, in a guy-versus-girl matchup, the guy would have the edge. Men have more tolerance for shame, after all. But looking at Na Ye-jin, that logic didn't hold. She was already fiercely competitive. I had no idea what she'd demand.
We stood side by side at the front of the stage. Na Ye-jin looked up at me. There was a height difference, so technically she was looking up, but her eyes gave off no such impression. If anything, it felt like she was looking down.
"Alright, Participant Na Ye-jin, give your command," the host said.
Na Ye-jin glanced at me, flashing a devilish smile. Then she spoke.
"Strip naked right here, then go confess to the girl you like and get her to say yes."
Casual speech, as expected. She was a year older than me, but we kinda knew each other, so it wasn't weird. Still, hearing her talk down to me in front of everyone made me shrink a little.
And then the command sank in. Strip naked. That part I saw coming. Confess to the girl I like... What? Bring back her acceptance... What did she say?
Even in penalty games, confessing is the toughest. At drinking parties, nothing's crueler than dialing someone up as a dare. And now, do it naked? In front of forty people? Plus, "bring back her acceptance" meant it wasn't enough to just confess—she had to say yes. No matter how hard I tried, rejection meant failure. This wasn't something I could pull off alone.
I shot Na Ye-jin a panicked look. She mouthed, What? Pure provocation.
But amid the shock, another thought flashed: Could she even do this?
I recalled the rules. If I forfeited, she'd have to do it herself. Meaning Na Ye-jin would strip naked and confess to her crush too.
Either way, someone was getting naked. Sure enough, a voice from Team B piped up.
"Forfeit."
"She couldn't pull that off either."
"Whoa... that girl's body is fire though?"
If I bailed, Na Ye-jin would do it—and a beauty like her confessing naked? Prime entertainment. Hell, Team B might hate me if I didn't forfeit, for blowing their shot at the show.
I could see the guys' eyes gleaming. Not at the command, but at her looks. Yellow hair, sharp features, killer figure. A naked confession from her? Lifelong memory material. Honestly, I wanted to see it too.
But that would mean losing.
I glanced at Na Ye-jin again. Unreadable. Did she think she could handle it? To win, I had no choice but to try. Wait—Team A already had four wins. With best-of-nine, weren't they already champs? Could I just forfeit once?
No. These individual matches might have bonus rewards separate from the overall score. No way to know.
I scanned the room in agony, and my eyes landed on Yoon Seo-yeon. She stood with her head bowed on Team A's side. Then it hit me.
This wasn't "confess to someone of the opposite sex." It was "confess to a woman you like."
Na Ye-jin was a woman. Woman confessing to woman. She'd just need to handle the nudity, then fake it with a same-sex friend: "I like you, let's date." No shame there.
The confession difficulty was all on me. Naked guy confessing to a girl. The nudity shame. The confession shame. The rejection fear. All hitting me alone.
Yeah, Na Ye-jin could totally do it. Team A had already stripped to bras earlier. With her personality, full nudity was doable. Confess to Yoon Seo-yeon, done.
If I forfeited, she'd perform, Team A wins. Ha-young's hard-fought win—enduring a full minute naked, pressing her chest to my back to fight—would mean nothing. All for naught.
Couldn't let that happen.
As I hesitated, the host spoke. "Participant Han Si-woo, are you forfeiting?"
Team B stirred again.
"Just forfeit already."
"She couldn't do it anyway."
Guys blinded by Na Ye-jin's beauty, clueless about my resolve. I made my choice.
"Just gotta get naked, right?"
The host nodded. I pulled off my shirt. The hall went quiet. I gripped it tight in my right hand. Drop this, and it's over. My last shield.
Left hand untied my pants and slid them down. Once at my ankles, I stepped out one leg at a time. Down to underwear. Still manageable.
Next. I held the shirt horizontally across my waist, covering my junk, and carefully lowered my underwear. One hand pressing the shirt, the other peeling off undies. Trickier than the pants. One slip, and I'm exposed.
Underwear hit the floor past my ankles. Success. Naked, but from the front, the shirt blocked the view.
Yesterday's experience taught me that trick. Couldn't have thought of it otherwise.
Na Ye-jin's voice: "Hoh~."
Admiration or mockery? Who knows.
Shielding my lower half, I walked. Toward Ha-young.
From behind, my ass was on full display, but screw it now. I'd strolled naked past inspectors yesterday. Ass cheeks? Child's play.
Why Ha-young? I considered options, but who else here would accept my confession? Only one answer.
With each step toward her, I saw Ha-young's panic grow. First confusion—why was I coming? Then her gaze dropped from my face to the shirt at my waist. Realization hit: I'm naked.
Her eyes widened. Mouth agape. Face flushing fast.
She remembered: "confess to the woman you like." And realized she was the one.
No, it wasn't real—just a forced confession. She knew that. But accepting it on stage wasn't easy to fake.
I stood before her. Less than a meter away. My bare legs visible below the shirt; she sat with head down.
Ten minutes ago, I'd felt her naked body against my back. Her breasts' softness still lingered. And now, confessing to her.
What kind of insane situation was this?
The room erupted.
"Whoaaa~~!"
"First confession I've ever seen..."
"But what if she says no?"
Same worry here. What if she rejects? Not like I actually wanted to date her.
The vibe was weird. Standing naked before a girl with forty watchers—it felt like a real confession, not a game.
I didn't hate Ha-young, sure. But like her? ...Dunno. Head spinning.
Still, had to do it.
"H-Ha-young..."
My voice shook. She looked up. Face red to her ears. Eyes trembling faintly.
"Wh-why... Si-woo..."
She knew, yet asked anyway. Totally flustered too.
My heart pounded wildly. This is acting. A game. Gotta win. Brain knew. Heart? Not so much.
"H-Ha-young... I... I l-like you. G-go out with me."
Eyes squeezed shut. Words out, face exploded in heat. Ears burning.
Blind, reactions hit as sounds: murmurs, giggles, a whistle.
Heart racing. Even as play, rejection terrified me. First "I like you" I'd ever said aloud. Fake or not, first confession ever.
Whispers: "Say yes... say yes..." "Date him... date him..."
Ha-young ducked her head more, mortified. Was this my penalty or hers?
No one cared about my nudity anymore. Objectively: naked guy, junk half-covered, confessing to girl friend. Pathetic sight. But viewers held breath for her answer.
Silence stretched. Head down, fists clenched on knees, trembling slightly.
3 seconds. 5. 10. Heart shrinking.
No way she's rejecting. It's a game. Rejecting loses for us.
But even knowing, rejection would hurt for real. Why? Not sincere. Just to win. Yet my chest tightened.
Her lips parted, then stopped. Swallowed words?
Host: "Miss, are you accepting the confession?"
Why interfere? Making her even more embarrassed.
Then, her reply: "Yes."
Soft, small. Crystal clear.
Head still down, avoiding eyes. Answering both host and me.
Heart plummeted. First confession ever. Fake penalty or not, acceptance sent it racing.
Wanted to hug her. But knew: not real. She knew too. Game, forced for victory.
Still. A warm corner of my heart bloomed anyway.
Steeling myself, I faced the host. "The female participant has accepted. Congratulations—Team B wins."
Confirming with extras. Team B cheered. Two in a row.
I looked at Na Ye-jin. Sour face, like she bit a bug. Expected my forfeit? Or Ha-young's no? Her plan foiled. Kinda satisfying.
I gave her a slight bow, then walked back to the stage front. Ass fully exposed. But face burned worse. No courage to glance back at Ha-young.
Grabbed my clothes, dressed carefully: undies first, pants, shirt last. Finally felt human again.
Sigh. Naked confession. Life's shame levels kept updating.
Heading back to Team B, people parted. Why? Path led straight to Ha-young. Like a red carpet.
Laughter and cheers mixed. "Go! Go!" "To your girlfriend!" "Couple alert!"
Dying of embarrassment. Ha-young head down too, ears red through her hair. Redder than her naked minute earlier.
One step. One step. Seven, eight meters—the world's longest straight line.
Claps, whistles, grins on sides. Wedding march vibe.
A naked-confession couple? Hope no such romance exists elsewhere.
Reached her, sat. Neither looked at the other. Staring front. Shoulders farther apart than usual.
Heart still racing. Yesterday: chests mashed to back. Today: naked confession. She accepted.
Too much in one day. After this gig, facing her at school? No clue.
But one thing clear now: Ha-young, sorry.
And simultaneously: Thanks.
And three rounds left.