Fragments of the Past
So that was it.
What the hell did I just see…? Does that mean I was on the same team as Han Min-ha’s parents in Secreto? That’s absurd… Or maybe it’s a setting that was never mentioned in the original novel, so I simply didn’t know about it?
The moment Professor Kyo Suhyeon saw the photo of Han Tae-woo—the man he’d apparently been close to in the past—some kind of trigger activated, flooding him with memories. Or rather, with setting information. That explanation made a strange kind of sense.
If that was the case, then several things suddenly lined up. Why there wasn’t a single record of my past activities on the internet. Why a mere C-class hero could become a professor at the academy. It was all because I had been part of Secreto.
So this was one of the novel’s planted hints… In that case, the recurring dreams I kept having, and that final scene at the edge of the vision I just experienced, were probably hints too. Maybe I’d need to trigger another event to uncover the answer to that particular scene.
Or perhaps… this was a sub-quest. Something like Piece together the fragmented past of the possessed character. Not interested. I only need to clear the main quest.
I glanced at my watch. Quite a bit of time had passed since I’d entered the archives. I hurriedly flipped through Han Tae-woo and Seo Ji-ah’s academic records, searching for any meaningful clues. But there was nothing noteworthy. Average grades. Ordinary academy life. The only unusual detail was that both had come from an orphanage and had no family or relatives. That explained why, after they went missing, Han Min-ha had been left completely alone. That was all.
The fact that the two had gotten married and had Min-ha obviously happened after graduation, so there wouldn’t be any record of it here. In the end, the only thing I’d gained from coming all this way was the knowledge that I had once been a member of Secreto and had been on a team with Han Min-ha’s parents.
Hmm… Just to be thorough, I dug a little deeper into the archives and pulled out my own—Professor Kyo Suhyeon’s—academic record. As expected, it was equally unremarkable. His academy days had been as drab and colorless as his appearance. I, too, had come from an orphanage. The same one as Han Tae-woo and Seo Ji-ah.
What the hell is this…? Isn’t this setting a little too convenient? Why are all the major characters tragic orphans?
“P-Professor…! Are you still not done?”
Chae Ga-yun’s voice called from outside the archives.
“I’m coming out now.”
I quickly photographed all the records with my phone, returned them to their proper places, and left the archives at a brisk pace. After promising the persistently nagging Chae Ga-yun that I would buy her a meal sometime this week, I finally managed to escape.
As I headed toward the lecture building to prepare for my next class, I reflected on what had happened in the archives and what I should do moving forward.
For now, I had learned that Han Min-ha’s parents had been part of Secreto and that I had been on their team. My original plan had been to slowly gather information based on the basic details in their academic records, but I had somehow ended up learning everything at once. This was incredibly important information. At the very least, I could now tell Min-ha what kind of people her parents had been, what kind of work they had done, and why they had been declared missing.
But before that, I needed to have a deep conversation with her. My guess was that the trauma from her parents’ disappearance—or death—had caused her to reject the idea of becoming a hero. Yet even so, a young child with no family or relatives would have had few options. She had probably entered the academy at the Management Bureau’s recommendation.
Let’s go see Han Min-ha. I’ll talk with her first and decide what to say based on how the conversation goes. About what kind of people her parents really were.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. There were two schedules—one for Yoo Hee-won and one for Han Min-ha. Since I needed to find times when everyone had free periods for our guidance meetings, I always kept them on me. It just so happened that Min-ha had a free period right now, so I called her, intending to have a short talk.
But Han Min-ha didn’t answer. There was no automated voicemail message, which suggested she had deliberately hung up midway. What is she doing?
“Why aren’t you picking up? Who is it?”
Yoo Hee-won, sitting at an outdoor table near the cafeteria, pointed at Han Min-ha’s phone with her chin while chewing on a piece of bread.
“Uh…? Ah… i-i-i-it’s… spam…”
Han Min-ha stammered and quickly slipped the phone back into her pocket.
She couldn’t possibly say that Professor Kyo had called. By now, Min-ha had a full grasp of the situation and the power dynamics at play. She also knew perfectly well that there was absolutely no benefit in letting Yoo Hee-won think she was in separate contact with the professor. Min-ha was terrified of being misunderstood by her.
It wasn’t that she feared Yoo Hee-won would bully her. She simply didn’t want to ruin her relationship with the classmate she had talked to the most since entering the academy—and the first person who had ever invited her to the cafeteria. Even though she knew Yoo Hee-won had only dragged her here and was forcing her to eat the most expensive bread and drinks because the professor had asked her to.
Still, even if it was hypocritical, it was still kindness. To Han Min-ha, even this false show of interest felt precious.
“Ah… Hey!”
Suddenly Yoo Hee-won shouted.
“Y-yes…? What…?”
“Brush the crumbs off your chest. It’s gross.”
“Ah… these…”
Han Min-ha hurriedly brushed the bread crumbs from her chest. Because her breasts were so large, the crumbs never made it to the table—they always got caught halfway.
“Ugh, seriously… those things…”
Yoo Hee-won grumbled under her breath for a moment before a wicked smile spread across her face.
“So, our dear Han Min-ha student, how’s academy life treating you these days?”
“Me…? It’s the same as always… I attend lectures… do physical training… sleep… go to guidance meetings…”
“Those are things every academy student has to do! I’m not talking about that. I mean, for example… have you made any friends?”
At that, Han Min-ha stared at Yoo Hee-won with eyes that held a faint spark of hope. Yoo Hee-won’s eyes widened threateningly.
“You think I’m your friend?”
“No… I don’t have any friends yet…”
“And why do you think that is?”
Han Min-ha chewed on her bread while thinking about the question. But she didn’t have to think for long, because Yoo Hee-won couldn’t wait and answered for her.
“It’s because your grades suck, you have zero social skills, and on top of that you’re gloomy as hell. Got it?”
“Y-yeah… I guess so…”
“Who would want to talk to someone like you? Right? That’s why you’re being ostracized.”
“You’re right…”
Han Min-ha lowered her head, still holding the half-eaten bread. Watching her, Yoo Hee-won clicked her tongue in irritation.
“Make a choice!”
“What…?”
“Either follow me and survive, or keep wandering around all gloomy by yourself and get left behind!”
“What… what does that mean…?”
“Haah… You’re seriously such a fucking idiot… Did all the blood that was supposed to go to your brain go to your tits instead?”
Yoo Hee-won rubbed her temples and sighed.
“If you’re too stupid to raise your grades, at the very least you need to adapt to academy life. You understand that much, right?”
“I understand.”
“To adapt to the academy, do you need friends or not?”
“I… need them…?”
“But can you make friends on your own or not?”
“Um… I don’t think I can…”
“If you follow me around, will you make friends or not?”
“Uh… maybe…?”
When Han Min-ha answered with a hint of doubt, Yoo Hee-won slammed her fist on the table.
“Hey! You think you will!”
“R-right… I think I will…!”
“Exactly. So follow me around.”
“But… we’re in different classes and our schedules don’t match.”
“Just follow me during my free periods and after classes. You don’t have anything else to do then anyway.”
“Y-yeah… that’s true…”
In other words… she was telling Min-ha to become her subordinate. Han Min-ha wasn’t sure if this was the right choice. It would certainly be better than always being alone, but Yoo Hee-won’s group of followers was the complete opposite of her. They were all arrogant kids with personalities similar to Yoo Hee-won’s. If Min-ha were thrown in among them, she would be treated like a Black person diving into a 19th-century white-only swimming pool. No matter how much Yoo Hee-won tried to protect her, oil and water simply didn’t mix.
But Han Min-ha couldn’t bring herself to say that out loud.
When she remained silent, Yoo Hee-won grinned and tapped the table sharply.
“No objections, right?”
“Uh? Yeah…”
“Good.”
Yoo Hee-won looked over at another table. There sat her followers, the ones she had rejected earlier when they asked her to go to the cafeteria with them.
“You guys, come here.”
The followers, who had been nervously waiting because they had acted rudely toward Professor Kyo during Basic Defense class, looked visibly relieved when Yoo Hee-won called them over and hurried to the table.
“You know her, right?”
When Yoo Hee-won pointed at Han Min-ha with her thumb, one of the followers spoke up.
“The idiot who passed out during the basic evaluation… Kek—!”
A quicker-witted follower stomped hard on his foot.
“Of course. She’s Han Min-ha from the lower class, isn’t she? She’s in the same guidance group as you and the professor.”
Yoo Hee-won nodded at the other follower’s words.
“She’s our friend from now on.”
“Huh…? What does that mean…?”
“Do I have to say it twice?”
The moment Yoo Hee-won frowned, the followers shrank back as if murderous laser beams were shooting from her eyes. A couple of the quicker ones immediately reached out to Han Min-ha.
“Let’s get along, Min-ah.”
“Han Min-ha…”
“Yeah. Min-ha.”
Yoo Hee-won’s followers, desperate not to upset her, competed to act friendly toward Han Min-ha. In the upper class, Yoo Hee-won’s word was law. And so, before she knew it, Han Min-ha had become friends with the upper-class students.
Overwhelmed by their fake greetings, she answered awkwardly while thinking to herself:
Is this… really okay…?