Middle School Days (5): Signals in the Smoke

"Sssip... Hoo."

Kang Han-sol silently put a cigarette between his lips. The flame caught. A brief flicker—and smoke slowly drifted out.

"..."

Eun-seo couldn't say a word. He never smoked in front of her. Not once. Ever. That single fact alone told her exactly what this visit meant, without needing to ask.

"...Today,"

Eun-seo quietly opened her mouth.

"You're not here as my father, are you."

There was no reply. Just—the smoke, trailing long and thin.

She used polite speech, formally. Normally, she wouldn't go this far with him, but right now, Kang Han-sol needed that distance. He wasn't here as Eun-seo's father. He was here in his profession. As a 'politician' gathering votes from the public.

A politician. Eun-seo's father, Kang Han-sol, was a politician. A promising one, with real accomplishments. It was no wonder the school had erupted in chaos. A politician—no less—had walked in on his own two feet.

The politician Han-sol smoked in front of Eun-seo. It was his subtle way of hinting to her that he felt like smoking. So she asked politely. Because lighting up meant his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mood was foul.

"Hooo..."

Ash scattered. After savoring a few minutes, he stubbed out the cigarette.

"That kid, Sung-hoon. He's your friend?"

"...Yes. Huh?"

Eun-seo faltered at Han-sol's words. Why was Sung-hoon's name coming from her father's mouth? At the same time, she remembered. He'd just mentioned Sung-hoon moments ago.

Why Sung-hoon? A question flashed through Eun-seo's mind. I mentioned Da-eun once, but I've never talked about Sung-hoon...

She'd mentioned her junior Da-eun at home before. But she'd never once brought up Kang Sung-hoon. She searched her memories. Slower and more delayed than usual. Because she kept her eyes open, staring at the sky as she sifted through them.

After seeing Sung-hoon and Da-eun go through that ordeal. Whenever Eun-seo closed her eyes, the scene replayed naturally. Her own words cursing herself. Sung-hoon collapsing, hand pierced. And her, watching from afar.

Remembering it like that, words slipped out unconsciously.

"...Where... where did I go wrong...?"

She thought again. Reviewed her actions, pinpointed the problem. But no answer ever came. Because this was how she'd lived her life.

"......"

Han-sol watched his daughter. Normally, she should have figured it out by now. To a politician's eye, it was obvious. Eun-seo was mentally unstable right now. As a father, he should comfort her. But right now, he had to act as a politician.

"A few days ago, a boy named Kang Sung-hoon came to see me."

So he spoke first. Regardless of Eun-seo's fragile state, to stir even more chaos in her head. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And with that, he began his story.

Kang Han-sol's office. Two people entered the room where he stayed.

"Come in."

Han-sol stood and greeted them simply. Sung-hoon and his group nodded back briefly. Even then, Han-sol's gaze hadn't landed on Sung-hoon. Despite being told there was something to discuss, his eyes were only on Jeon Young-ha, the doctor who'd brought him.

Jeon Young-ha. A fairly famous doctor. With degrees in psychiatry, surgery, and more—a true talent. Such a man wanted to meet politician Han-sol. That's what had created this time slot. But seeing Sung-hoon with him, Han-sol was momentarily taken aback.

He looked at Sung-hoon and asked.

"Who's this kid?"

"Haha. It's that boy I told you about last time."

Han-sol rewound his memory at Young-ha's words. Right. He'd mentioned an incredibly smart, handsome little kid.

"Name was... Kang Sung-hoon, right...?"

Over ten years had passed since then. So that kid had grown this much? Han-sol looked at Sung-hoon again. The face was definitely as handsome as described. And his height rivaled an adult's.

Han-sol decided to test him. Young-ha had called him smart, so this should be fine.

"Son, how tall are you now?"

"Late 170s."

"Why'd you come to see me?"

"I have a proposal for you, Assemblyman."

Hoo. Well, now. Light sparked in Han-sol's eyes. He'd never seen a student speak so boldly. Not that it was reckless bravery. Using vague words like 'proposal' to pique his interest.

What could this kid's proposal be...?

At the same time, Han-sol's mind whirred. A politician's instinct kicked in, reading the boy's expression. It was a kind of skill. Ordinary people showed their intent on their faces. Those begging shrank back a bit. Those commanding puffed their chests. Those scheming pulled their shoulders away slightly.

Han-sol was a seasoned politician. He'd rolled in the political arena, seen every type of person.

He's showing nothing.

He couldn't hide his surprise at Sung-hoon. Just a middle schooler, yet so adept at masking himself. Puberty, ruled by hormones—and this Kang Sung-hoon showed not a speck of it. Like he'd trained to conceal himself.

As a politician, Han-sol was intrigued by Sung-hoon's demeanor. Someone this skilled at hiding wouldn't come with some trivial pitch. Sensing the talk would drag, he unconsciously pulled out his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tumbler.

"Let's hear it. Make it short."

And he began listening to Sung-hoon's story.

....

"Hah...! Is that true?"

Han-sol stroked his chin in admiration. What Sung-hoon described was a goldmine if played right.

School violence at his middle school. Not ordinary bullying—crime, knives, the works. But Han-sol had zero interest in that. He feigned sympathy outwardly, but students didn't vote anyway.

What caught his eye was something else.

"Say it once more."

"One of the perpetrators is the son of a high-up in the Mu-an Foundation."

Mu-an Foundation. Han-sol's eyes gleamed at the name. But he couldn't show it. With his poker face honed by years in politics, he spoke calmly.

"Is that true?"

"It is. I have proof."

Sung-hoon went further. He even brought the perpetrator's name and photo.

"You know this is illegal, right?"

"What do you mean? I've never broken any laws."

Han-sol lightly pressed with 'illegal' to rattle him. But Sung-hoon didn't flinch, denying it outright. His hand gripped the photo tight. Clearly ready to shred it if needed, leaving no evidence. Without physical proof, it was just suspicion. Sung-hoon had that angle nailed.

There was CCTV, sure. But the spot where Sung-hoon handed the photo was blind to it. Every action laced with intent. Han-sol's political senses honed in on the boy. His lips twitched upward unconsciously. He covered his mouth, pretending to ponder.

"So. What do you want?"

"Make this incident blow up, Assemblyman."

"What's in it for me?"

"Don't you already know?"

Sung-hoon smoothly passed the baton. You know this too, right? How could you not? A subtle taunt. But Han-sol chuckled it off. Only an idiot wouldn't grasp this case—and no idiot became an assemblyman.

Aggravated assault tangled with criminals. A school staying silent, dumping blame on outsiders. One perp the son of bigwig foundation ties. And that foundation bankrolled the opposition party.

Anyone not seeing the picture deserved a decorative head.

Raise my approval ratings with this, huh?

Han-sol takes it on. Condemns the school for silence on bullying. The name 'politician' would shock them; the foundation would react. Normally, they'd brush it off as unrelated. But with their son as perp? Different story. No more dodging. The guard's suicide attempt, screaming the kid's name, sealed it.

Foundation has to move. Han-sol uses that to bite. Hide the kid? Frame them as corrupt. Punish him? Question why they waited so long. Win-win for Han-sol.

As if confirming, Sung-hoon added,

"For reference, the one who stabbed through my hand is that son."

True. In the prior fight, that guy wielded the knife by chance, and Sung-hoon took it on purpose. Perfect physical evidence now.

With all angles calculated, Han-sol extended his hand to Sung-hoon.

"I'll make it as big as possible."

"Thank you."

Sung-hoon shook it and bowed. Showing clear hierarchy to the recording CCTV.

...Never lets his guard down. A real talent.

Han-sol thought as Sung-hoon left.

"Then I'll leave it to you. Eun-seo's father."

Up until those final words.

"....."

Eun-seo fell silent after hearing it all. Of course. This wasn't adults' warfare. It was Sung-hoon's grand scheme. Right up to drawing in her father.

Delaying on purpose. Unpunished perps, silent school, foundation pressure. Waiting until it was prime for politician Kang Han-sol to sink his teeth in. He'd endured, biding time.

"Ha... hahaha..."

Hollow laughter escaped. On another level entirely. His thinking was structurally alien.

Blow it up to drag in a politician. Who thinks like that and acts? But Kang Sung-hoon did. Without selling out her father or his own name.

Watching her, Han-sol spoke.

"So. What's your relation to Sung-hoon?"

"We were close like siblings... not anymore."

"I see. A bit disappointing."

His words carried regret. At that, Eun-seo made a decision.

"Dad. I'm transferring to that high school you mentioned."

"Oh? You said no before."

"...I feel too lacking. I want to grow more."

Eun-seo clenched her fist tight. Seeing it, Han-sol thought,

Wanting to imitate that abnormal kid Sung-hoon?

Could she? A politician couldn't know. But as a father—had to believe.

"Alright. We'll handle the procedures now."

And the father-daughter pair left.

....

Two years passed like that. And—miraculously, Kang Eun-seo met Sung-hoon again.

He hadn't changed a bit. Hiding everything, eyes only on himself.