Joo-ri's POV:
It wasn’t until Joo-ri stood close to Jae-il that she truly noticed the difference. Everything else around them suddenly became noise and static; she couldn't tear her eyes away. He just stood there like an otherworldly entity. Inhumanely attractive. So much so that she couldn't even think about it without feeling her heart flutter a little.
A distant bell chimed in her mind—a gentle warning. Joo-ri composed herself, brushing a stray strand of hair back into place, and flashed him a casual grin. ‘Play it cool.’ The voice in her head advised. ‘Just... try not to drool over the guy.’
Jae-il's eyes softened upon landing on Mia, then turned to look at Joo-ri. His purple-eyed gaze met hers for a split second. Her heart did a small somersault as they exchanged a quick glance, but the sensation was quickly brushed aside by her well-practiced nonchalance.
"Hi!" She managed with a cheerful tone, suppressing the nervous giggle that wanted to sneak through her facade.
"Hey." His response was casual yet courteous. "You must be Mia Noona's friend?" His voice was calm, slightly low but warm. Standing there, tall and dressed impeccably, it seemed almost absurd to consider the fact he was only fifteen. His maturity and grace was unsettling to comprehend. The more you stared, the more you wondered, and the harder you fell.
That's why you couldn't stare too much, especially when it was someone like this...
She needed a moment, a small pause to compose her inner chaos. Jae-il's gaze lingered on her briefly, almost questioningly. His features showed no indication of discomfort, but she couldn't help wondering if she had crossed some invisible social line.
She felt her breath hitch for a fleeting moment before a more coherent sentence formed. “Yep, I'm the friend.” She grinned widely. “Kang Joo-ri.”
Mia, who'd been standing next to her in quiet observation, chimed in with a playful tone. "Joo-ri... the leech."
"Oh, hush." Joo-ri quipped back.
"Joo-ri..." He tested the sound of her name again as though it was entirely alien. Then, a small smile played across his lips, and he dipped his head politely in greeting. "I'm Cha Jae-il, Mia Noona's younger brother. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." The way his tongue rolled to pronounce the syllables of her name was oddly charming.
The heat rushed to Joo-ri's face, and it took her an agonizing three seconds to wrestle a coherent response from the jumble of thoughts racing in her head. "Noona." She squeaked out in a faint objection. "Call me Noona, since I'm obviously older." Despite the internal flusters, her cheeks began to ache from all the grinning. Jae-il seemed to pause for a moment before a small laugh slipped from his lips. His smile widened, showing a sliver of teeth. It was disarming to witness.
"Of course... Joo-ri Noona." The way he corrected himself felt natural as if it was meant to be heard that way. "Thank you for looking after my Noona."
Joo-ri’s smile grew a touch more confident, her cheeks now hurting from grinning so widely. "She makes it easy."
Mia cleared her throat loudly beside them. "Hello? Still here, you two."
The subtle reminder of Mia's presence managed to ground Joo-ri somewhat.
"Anyway, you played amazingly." Joo-ri offered. "I saw the video online—you were a star. Congratulations, really. It was mesmerizing." Her words might have sounded over-eager, but who cares?
Jae-il nodded at her, acknowledging her words with a graceful nod.
'He's too humble for his age.' She couldn't help but observe silently. 'Nothing about him looks or feels like he's fifteen.' That incongruence made her slightly dizzy.
It was a kind of disorientation she couldn't explain and she was almost sure that she wouldn't forget any of this moment anytime soon.
The way he smiled, how he spoke, the very air he was in... it all had an aura and it felt strangely... wrong—
"Alright, alright! We're leaving!" Mia suddenly announced, sharply grabbing Joo-ri's hand. Her voice carried an undertone of frustration that broke through Joo-ri's internal reverie. She barely caught the glare Mia directed at her, and the heat that flushed into her face. She almost wanted to slap her friend. What was that for!?
As soon as they exited the restaurant doors, the evening chill met them, a welcome contrast to the warm, cozy ambiance of the room they'd left. Mia abruptly halted and spun on her heels to face Joo-ri.
"Girl, I know my brother's attractive, but keep it in your pants. There are limits." She stated, her voice sharp.
"What!?" Joo-ri protested. "You should see your face. If he wasn't your family, you’d be doing much worse."
Mia looked like she'd been slapped, eyes wide. "What the hell are you even—"
Joo-ri rolled her eyes. "Calm down, I'm kidding." She shook her head. "Your jealousy is cute."
"I'm not jealous!" Mia immediately objected, cheeks growing hot.
"Yeah, yeah," Joo-ri replied dismissively, "I know, I know. I'm just happy I got a chance to meet your superstar brother finally. No biggie, I swear."
Mia clicked her tongue loudly before she walked away without giving Joo-ri another glance.
Joo-ri chuckled. "You're such a kid."
Mia merely huffed and continued walking briskly ahead without a word.
"Ah, come on, wait up!"
xXx
Jae-il's POV:
My return to high school had me feeling more out of place than I'd expected. Everyone eyed me with an unusual intensity. The way their stares lingered, the hushed conversations that died away whenever I got too close—I knew it was all about the recent matches. It was hard to miss.
The halls had the buzz of excitement. Kind of like when a celebrity student transfers in, only I'd been here for ages already. They weren’t looking at me like a classmate anymore. It was like they'd all decided I was something else now. The kid who went viral. The prodigy. The boy in the highlight reel. On the news. On Naver. On NewTube.
They were looking at the person in the stories. Someone almost not human.
A hero.
Someone unobtainable.
A stranger in a familiar skin.
It became glaringly apparent how many gazes were on me. As if my presence alone disturbed some kind of delicate social equilibrium.
Well, I was used to this. It'd be even worse in the future. The feeling was not alien at all, and that's why it felt... normal. Still, I'd relish this semblance of low popularity while it lasted, however brief it may turn out to be.
As I made my way down the school corridor, one figure caught my eye. It was an ugly, chubby girl with short hair cornered by what looked like two bullies. I say 'bullies' because that's the only conclusion my mind reached as I passed by the scene.
She stood in front of the classroom's open door as the bullies, who towered over her petite frame, spoke to her. I only heard a couple of words. "Pig. Disgusting." The kind of vile shit you’d read in an online comment section. A place that lacked human empathy. My feet slowed. Then stopped. Before I could decide anything, the girl started crying but didn't retaliate. All she did was stand there with her hands balled into tight fists and her shoulders trembling.
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
I closed my eyes briefly to center my bearings.
‘Fuck me…’
The last thing I wanted to deal with today was bullying, yet I couldn’t leave her there.
I approached them, the bullies too focused to notice. By the time they did, I was right beside them. One look at their startled faces was all the entertainment I needed. The flicker of panic in their widened eyes said everything. I didn’t need to utter a single word for them to know exactly who I was.
And what it would mean for their reputations.
They backed away as if I were contagious, almost knocking over a nearby waste basket. The scene would’ve been comical if not for the girl standing in their shadow, tear-stained and shaking. She was trying to be invisible. I didn't know how to handle a girl who was clearly hurt and humiliated.
Maybe I was in over my head. Perhaps it would have been better to pretend I hadn't seen anything, like most people did. But... I was already here.
“You okay?" I asked softly.
The girl jerked in surprise at the question, as though unused to being the subject of anyone’s concern. She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she tried wiping away her tears.
Her face was flushed red and wet from the crying, but it was obvious that she was doing her best to control her emotions. Even now. I admired the courage to do so in the midst of this humiliation and pain. When the girl finally spoke, her voice was unsteady and timid, yet determined, as if every word were a fight. "Y—yeah."
"Good." I responded with a simple nod and a faint smile.
I thought that maybe words of encouragement or comfort were in order but I found myself tongue-tied. I'd have felt more at home scouring Rio's slums with a gun in hand than dealing with this. At least back then I would’ve done things that I didn’t need words for...
"Uh, um—" She stammered. "T-t-thanks."
"Do you want me to call a teacher?"
A teacher, of course. Who else was going to do something?
She vehemently shook her head. "N-n-no, no."
Maybe teachers were useless here as well. Then again, I'd rather someone with actual competence teaching handle this.
God. Okay, I'll say something nice and comforting and then I'm getting out of here—
Well, thankfully, it turns out I didn't have to, because I heard the hurried pitter-patter of panicked footsteps approaching us. "Go Bin!" A feminine voice called out sharply from the other end of the hallway.
'Bin.'
I blinked.
The girl's name was Go Bin.
A slender girl, with long, sleek dark hair and an air of innocence came barrelling towards us, running so hard and fast that a cartoonish cloud of dust might’ve kicked up in her wake. Right before she could control her momentum and slow down, her eyes flicked up and landed on me.
She gasped. A sharp, startled breath caught in her throat. Her steps faltered.
Then—bang.
She crashed straight into the wall with a loud, unforgiving thud.
“Dae Hee!” Bin shouted, bolting toward her.
Dae Hee staggered back, blinking like she wasn’t sure what century she was in. One hand clutched the wall, the other rubbed the fresh bruise forming on her forehead. Her cheeks flushed red, not from the impact, but from embarrassment.
She peeked at me again, mortified. I said nothing.
Honestly? I didn’t have to. The chipped paint on that section of the wall said enough.