The Story of How I First Met That Man -Part 2-

My first meeting with the novel's male protagonist was something else.

I never imagined I'd run into him under a bridge.

There, beneath a bridge where filthy sewage trickled by, lay a boy with silver hair, breathing raggedly. He clutched a bear doll tight to his chest, looking almost like a girl—but there was only one silver-haired boy named Mikhail that I knew of. So I was certain.

The kid in front of me was Mikhail, the male lead who becomes the strongest in the latter half of the novel.

I was stunned. How could I not be?

No one expects the novel's hero to be sprawled out in some rundown slum. Sure, there was a single line mentioning he came from the slums, but nothing about the capital's slums specifically. I was pretty shocked, considering the details about being abandoned by his mother and raised in a convent where he learned the sword were fleshed out, but his slum days were glossed over in just a sentence.

"What the hell."

This was the first lead character I'd met in the novel, aside from the young lady.

"A fateful encounter?"

I'd glimpsed the protagonist Yuria once, but that hardly counted.

This was my first real encounter with a lead.

"Oh..."

I poked the soundly sleeping Mikhail with a stick.

"Did I kill him?"

"..."

If I actually killed him, I'd be screwed.

"Mommy..."

Thank goodness. I let out a sigh of relief at his sleep-talking, confirming he was still breathing.

"Phew... Good thing. But what the hell are you doing here? You scared me."

I stared at Mikhail hugging his bear doll tight, deep in thought.

His face looked like he hadn't eaten in days. Ragged clothes. No ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠doubt about it—this kid was a beggar.

As I pondered what to do next, selfish thoughts bubbled up about turning this meeting to my advantage.

Mikhail, huh...

The undefeated sword saint wielding a holy sword, massacring monsters left and right. How huge would it be to have him owe me one?

My grand plan to buddy up with him at the academy and snag some crumbs just got a step ahead. I nodded in satisfaction.

One thing didn't change, no matter what.

"Ah... Jackpot fateful encounter."

Meeting an incredible stroke of luck like this.

How fun would it be? Homeless life with the novel's male lead.

I could watch his growth up close, maybe tag along to the convent full of pretty nuns if luck held, and as his best friend, scoop up all the beautiful women he rejects...

Grinning with delight, I squatted down in front of Mikhail and poked his cheek with the stick to check if he was alive.

"Dead or alive?"

"..."

"Don't die. That'd screw me over."

"Mommy..."

"Alive, huh."

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About thirty minutes passed.

Mikhail's golden eyes slowly peeked open—just like described in the novel. The moment those golden irises appeared beneath his eyelids, I gave a little wave in greeting.

"Mommy..."

"I'm not your mom."

I tossed the stick and prodded his soft cheek with my finger one last time to make sure this wasn't a dream.

The gentle, yielding touch.

"This is real..."

"..."

"Definitely a fateful encounter, right?"

"...Mommy?"

"Not mommy, not daddy either... Hmm."

I smiled at Mikhail.

"How about big bro?"

I extended my hand toward him.

"Nice to meet you."

"..."

"I'm Lee Min-hyuk."

The newly awakened Mikhail scrambled back, hiding behind a pillar. I hadn't done anything, so why the freakout? But since I wanted to make a good first impression, I flashed a gentle smile to calm him.

"Hey!"

"..."

Mikhail glared at me, clutching his massive bear doll. His eyes screamed classist prick, which irked me, but as the elder, I endured.

We stared each other down for a while. The relentless rain amplified the awkward silence between us, and Mikhail bristled like a drenched stray cat, claws out.

I awkwardly withdrew my hand and spoke to him.

"Kinda awkward since it's our first time, right? I'm awkward too."

"..."

"Can't you say something? I'm shy around people, you know."

"..."

"Yeah, not your problem."

Another thirty minutes ticked by. Unable to bear the awkwardness, I pulled out the cardboard box tucked under my arm and spread it on the ground.

"This is my bed. Jealous?"

"A box isn't a bed."

"Oh, you're hungry, huh."

I smiled faintly at him. Finally responding.

Knowing everything made approaching him tricky. One slip-up, and his already guarded nature might draw a hard line.

I sat a good distance away, observing him closely. Hunting this fateful encounter required care—I noted his every move bit by bit.

Grrrrowl...

I instantly clocked what my prey wanted.

I rummaged in my pocket and pulled out cookies swiped from the bakery.

Mikhail's eyes widened at the sight of edible food. Watching him swallow hard, I murmured low.

"Want some?"

"..."

"I ate plenty already. Don't need 'em."

"..."

Mikhail inched toward me, still hugging the doll tight. Hesitant, like he'd bolt at any twitch, but I gave him an awkward grin—until he reached for the cookie. Then, softly:

"You still haven't told me your name..."

"Not telling."

"Don't want the cookie?"

"...Gulp."

Mikhail backed away step by step.

Damn, he's picky.

The Mikhail in the novel was sweet and considerate. Was it gender bias ingrained in him, or some personality overhaul at the convent? He showed no warmth toward me.

"Just eat it."

I shoved the precious cookies at him gruffly.

"I'll call you 'Hey' then."

Mikhail stuffed his face, crumbs everywhere, avoiding my eyes as he replied.

"Do whatever."

"Heh... Tough nut."

The rain kept pouring. Once the cookies were gone, Mikhail curled up in the pillar's corner again, his bear doll starting to soak.

He's gonna catch a cold like that.

"Achoo."

Nailed it.

Mikhail's body heat dropped fast. He wouldn't let go of that doll no matter what, clutching it tighter whenever I glanced at it.

Like watching a pervert. I chuckled dryly.

"Not stealing it."

"..."

"I prefer busty big sis types over bear dolls."

"..."

"Keep hugging that, and you'll catch cold. Let go a bit."

Mikhail trusted none of my words. Seeing him bristle, unaware of how kind and polite I was, felt like choking down sweet potatoes.

Even I, the possessor who shrugged off most cold, felt it. How bad was it for this little guy?

His lips paling, I shoved aside the box covering my lap.

"You'll catch cold like that."

"Mind your own business."

"Pretty cheeky mouth you got."

"You're cheekier."

"Fair."

Mikhail shot back without missing a beat, ignoring me otherwise. I wanted to head back to a warm spot, but ditching him wasn't an option... The area didn't flood much even in heavy rain, but security sucked—leaving him alone felt wrong.

I sighed deeply and sat near him, killing time.

Through the night. Even when bugs buzzed by or he woke.

I brushed dirt off my butt, swatted bugs for him, then sat back at a distance.

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Just staying nearby to ease his fear.

I built a small campfire under the bridge and grinned at him.

"Ta-da. Check it out."

He looked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shocked at a fire in the rain, but I shrugged with a smile.

Possessors come prepared.

I beckoned him.

"Name. Still not telling?"

"..."

"Tricky."

What to do with this fateful encounter? I closed my eyes, gazing at the clearing night sky, staying awake beside his trembling breaths until they evened into snores.

Morning came.

"Cough... Cough..."

As expected, Mikhail had caught a cold.

"Idiot. Told you to let go."

*Shake head*

"Jeez."

I nursed him. Grabbed a rag from the trash pile to cool his fever, draping it over his forehead.

"Get that filthy thing off!"

His dog-like temper made it a hassle, but I slowly extended a hand.

He never gave his name.

Just silently endured his illness, climbing atop the bridge to guard his spot with the bear doll.

"Whatcha doing."

"..."

"Screw it."

"Why sit next to me?"

"You got a fever."

"..."

Like a loyal pup awaiting its owner, he pathetically stared across the bridge.

I pretended not to notice, but I knew who he waited for.

And how it ended.

So I told him:

"Let's go."

"..."

"I know a warm place."

"Don't force it when you know nothing."

"Alright."

I stuck by him anyway. Occasionally meeting the young lady to earn coin.

Back under the bridge with Mikhail. Sometimes I'd save him from drifting into the river current and scold the fool.

"Are you insane?!"

"..."

"Trying to die or what...!"

"..."

"Know how worried I was...? Why stand in this downpour!"

"Sorry..."

"Haa... You nearly died for real."

Mikhail slowly opened up to me. Inch by inch, ever so gradually.

He didn't leave the bridge, but he started talking to me, even pulling pranks like a normal kid.

"What's your name?"

"Me...?"

Mikhail fidgeted with his fingers, looking at me. Biting his lip in thought, he smiled faintly.

"I'm Mikhail."

Thinking of the cool hero from the fairy tales his mom read him.

Mikhail had lied.

"My name's Mikhail."

He wanted to seem strong.

And hoped his mom would call his name first.

Mikhail had lied.