Bittersweet Love Comedy
Middle school second year in a bittersweet romcom. That age when immature kids all think they're special. You know, delusions like having superpowers no one else does, or only using 10% of their brain. Spinning wild fantasies after watching movies, anime, or novels.
I should've gone through that phase too, the so-called chuunibyou. But...
"Doc, how'd my test results come out?"
"Hm, looking good. Honestly, your recovery signs are coming along pretty fast."
I was at the hospital. After going through who-knows-how-many incidents.
The doctor showed me my chart as the results. At first, I couldn't make sense of it, but I could tell from a glance just how much better I was.
"What do you think, Sung-hoon? Feeling improved?"
"Doc, but if this gets found out, won't we be in deep shit?"
"I'm only showing it to you, just you. After all these years we've known each other."
The doctor with the name tag reading Jeon Young-ha slung an arm around my shoulders and whispered.
"If I give you the verdict here... you don't even need to come back anymore."
"You seem pretty happy about it, Doc."
"Of course! It's like seeing a patient finally walk out after a long, major surgery!"
Young-ha Doc looked me up and down as he said that. Then he slapped my back hard enough to hurt.
"Time to put that handsome face to use!"
"Doc."
"Tall, sharp features, smart as hell—why no girlfriend?"
He was right. I'd never had a girlfriend up to that point. The internet's favorite term: lifelong singleton.
A few days after that not-quite-conversation with the doc...
"Take care! Don't forget to introduce me when you snag a good girlfriend!"
I got discharged amid his not-quite-farewell send-off.
And— to this day, still no girlfriend. Pure lifelong singleton.
In short, perfect fit for an extra in a romcom.
High school first year. April just around the corner, and here I was, eating lunch all alone on the school rooftop.
"Nice weather~!"
In my hands, a homemade bento. Sadly, a solo-packed self-bento.
Helping out with chores around the house had made cooking second nature before I knew it. I'd reached the level where I packed my own lunches.
"Girlfriend? Yeah, right."
I grumbled to myself and took a bite. Someone out there was probably enjoying a bento from their girlfriend, while some poor soul like me packed their own.
I bit into the perfectly fried chicken cutlet. Another success—the crispy batter crunched, and juicy meat filled my mouth.
But these daily routines weren't so bad. Not when a guest showed up soon after, someone in a position kinda like mine... but total opposite.
Tap, tap, tap.
Light footsteps on the stairs, and up came Park Ha-yoon.
Glossy black hair. Striking looks that made anyone passing by do a double-take. Tall, long legs, slim waist—the full package of beauty.
What folks called the class inssa: the popular girl.
She spotted me, the rooftop's first occupant, gave a slight nod, and sat on the opposite side.
I nodded back slightly. We'd met like this so many times, we'd silently agreed she'd match my greeting style.
'
Yeah, I get why she's the inssa.
I thought the usual thought as I watched her. She knew how to read people and respond without making them uncomfortable.
She was a different breed from the inssas I knew... but I had to remember: she was one.
Instinct told me this was just the warm-up phase, so I sped up to finish my bento.
...
One last chopstick scoop left in the box. As I went for it, Ha-yoon spoke up.
"Ah, anyone around to talk things out with?"
She said it casually, like an afterthought. But her eyes stayed locked on me, no intention of looking away. A clear come here look.
No good memories from dodging that gaze, so I moved over to her.
Ha-yoon patted the spot next to her. I sat a bit away, keeping some distance.
She flashed a playful smile.
"Feeling shy?"
"Uh, yeah. Kinda?"
"What? Aren't we secret allies?"
She stuck out her thumb triumphantly.
Secret allies. Yeah, that fit.
Only me and Ha-yoon knew the rooftop was open at lunch. Well, more like it was my secret until she crashed it.
As I mulled that over, she unlocked her smartphone with slender fingers and showed me the screen.
It was a shopping mall homepage, lined with skinny jeans and such.
"This outfit—whaddya think?"
"It'd suit you, but... this one over here might fit better."
I scrolled down a bit and pointed to another pair.
She hummed thoughtfully, then her eyes lit up.
"Knew I was right to ask you, Sung-hoon!"
"What, you see me as some AI?"
"Psh, no way. You're better and more reliable than any AI."
She giggled, correcting me.
Our secret rooftop alliance had somehow turned into me recommending her outfits.
Ha-yoon kept chatting away excitedly. But I never deluded myself into thinking she liked me.
"Think he'd like it like this? Maybe Geon-woo would?"
"Him? Better swap that hair accessory for this one, then."
She had a crush, after all.
Lee Geon-woo. Our class president, the so-called alpha male. Kind and friendly to boot. Hard to believe a guy like that existed outside novels—in the best way.
Yet no girlfriend. He was why most guys in our class were single too. All the girls had their eyes on him.
I glanced at Ha-yoon, thinking she'd make the perfect golden couple standing next to him.
We debated clothes for a good while, and that's when I noticed something off about Ha-yoon.
Black wristbands covered both her wrists. Did she used to wear something like that? Full-coverage fashion bands?
Without thinking, I pointed.
"What's with the wristbands? New trend?"
"...Yeah! Right. It's trending online lately, so I grabbed some."
She lifted her wrist to show me. Even pitch-black, on her they screamed fashion item. If I wore them, it'd just look like wrist guards that didn't work.
At the same time, Ha-yoon stood, brushing off her skirt.
"Lunch is almost over... Thanks for the help!"
"Killed some boring time on my end too, so we're even."
"Aw, I'll introduce you to a nice friend later!"
She waved as she headed down. Probably empty words, but I played along.
"Looking forward to it!"
And so Ha-yoon and I parted ways.
...
A few days later, Ha-yoon got rejected by Geon-woo. Rumor was he pushed her away before she could even confess properly.
For a girl's springtime of youth, it was a bitter end.
"Mopey doesn't suit me."
I headed up to the rooftop again. The gloomy class vibe was impossible to deal with.
I'd gotten permission from a teacher beforehand and borrowed the key. Even our homeroom teacher handed it over without a fuss.
'Go catch your breath up there.'
'Thanks, sir. I'll return it later.'
Great homeroom teacher. Understood my past, did everything to help.
This lunch break was thanks to that consideration too. If I made it big someday, I'd repay the favor.
I leaned against the wall. Sunset dipped beyond the fence.
Romcom hero territory for a monologue. But extras like me had no story or motive for that.
Just quietly watching the sun sink.
Crack open a book, pull a killer line—could be a cinematic life moment.
Then, footsteps.
I hid right away. Door was locked, teacher permission secured—but nosy staff wouldn't care.
Footsteps grew closer. Door handle turned, and out came a girl.
"Sob...! Uuugh...!"
Ha-yoon. Tears streaming, she collapsed right there.
"Ugh... uuugh...!"
A girl's youth rejected. Pushed away unilaterally before she could confess her feelings.
To Ha-yoon, it was like her whole daily life denied.
Meticulous morning greetings, agonizing over outfits, piling up those growing emotions—all gone in an instant.
Even I, who'd never dated, could sympathize with that moment.
Ha-yoon pulled back her wristband slightly. Seeing the secret beneath, I winced.
Dozens of cut marks, all fresh.
And— the second she pulled a knife from her pocket, I bolted out without hesitation.