My Name Is Ji Hye-han
“Really? I thought he turned it down last time?”
After talking with Cha-heon before, he had seemed to give up on the idea of quitting the club. Yet this morning he had come to Kang I-hyeon first thing and submitted his withdrawal form.
“Said his midterm grades dropped, so he’s quitting.”
Mention of the midterms brought back the unpleasant business from earlier today, but Cha-heon forced his thoughts into order. Grades had come out last Friday; if the boy had spent the weekend thinking it over and only handed in the form today, maybe he had actually deliberated.
“…But with skill like his, do midterms even matter that much? How far does a score have to drop before you quit?”
“He’s first in the entire sophomore class. And in the March national mock exams for second-years, I heard he ranked number one in the country.”
…Holy shit.
National number one meant first among every high-school sophomore in the entire country, right?
Wait—national mocks don’t even publish ranks. If they’re calling him first… that means a perfect score?
A chill ran down Cha-heon’s spine. He simply could not believe a student who scored that high actually existed.
Ah… I got two nines. What the hell am I going to do?
He was sincerely grateful Shin Chae-il had not demanded to see the report card. If that thing had gone home, the golf club that had made an appearance not long ago would probably have been pointed in this direction next.
Cha-heon set aside his guilt toward the original Shin Cha-heon and refocused on the sophomore whose grades were still hanging at the edge of the conversation.
“With that kind of record, yeah, quitting makes sense. So he came in second this time?”
“No. Still first on the midterms—just missed one problem. Kid used to get perfect scores every single time.”
“…I really live in a world I don’t understand. That’s the kind of drop that makes someone quit something they’re good enough at to make the national team?”
“Right? Meanwhile I got every single question wrong except one chemistry problem. Whatever I’d just looked at before closing the book was the only thing that showed up.”
It was odd. Kang I-hyeon seemed regretful that his junior was leaving, yet at the same time a little indifferent. Cha-heon glanced at him and answered offhandedly.
“Damn, Kang I-hyeon, you’re amazing. I only got three right.”
“Yah!”
His friend’s roar of betrayal shook the second floor. Cha-heon ignored it lightly, left his red-bean bun in I-hyeon’s care for a moment, and headed downstairs from the gymnasium’s upper level.
The fact that the boy was quitting still bothered him. He at least wanted to say something.
“So you’re really leaving, huh?”
Cha-heon drifted over beside the boy who was nearly finished packing away his kendo gear. The boy shot him a sidelong look and his expression tightened slightly.
“……”
“You were ridiculously good. Not even a little disappointed?”
“…It’s fine.”
“Hmm?”
When Cha-heon asked him to repeat it, the boy whipped around fully, glaring with open irritation. The look was so murderous that Cha-heon instinctively hunched his shoulders.
“Why do you keep sticking your nose into other people’s lives?”
The words themselves were calm, but the tone was ice-cold, and the twisted face clearly held anger.
Cha-heon took an involuntary half-step back.
“……”
In that brief second the boy’s intensity softened.
They eyed each other for a moment. Then Cha-heon offered an awkward smile and an apology first.
“Ah—sorry. I was just disappointed, so I guess I overstepped.”
“……”
Hearing the apology, the boy let out a quiet sigh, averted his eyes a fraction, and spoke.
“…No. I got angry for no reason.”
“…Why?”
“…Because my grades dropped this time. You already know about my family.”
“……?”
Cha-heon blinked as if he had no idea what that meant. The boy’s brow furrowed a little tighter.
“…You don’t know?”
“…Sorry. Was I supposed to?”
“…Isn’t that why you came over to talk to me?”
“…Huh?”
The boy looked as though he genuinely could not believe Cha-heon was serious. After a short pause, Cha-heon studied the other’s face and asked carefully,
“Ah, if I’m supposed to know… would you mind telling me even now? Is your father, like… the president…?”
That level of status would at least give him a reason to have approached. Since Shin Cha-heon’s father, Shin Chae-il, was a prosecutor, a presidential father would make wanting to get closer somewhat plausible.
“……”
Judging by the expression, that was a no. Cha-heon moved on to the next candidates.
“…Speaker of the National Assembly? Chief Justice of the Supreme Court? …Prosecutor General?”
“……”
“…Sorry, that’s the limit of my vocabulary. Could you just tell me?”
When Cha-heon finally ran out of titles and surrendered, the boy stared at him as if he had lost the power of speech. Silence stretched between them for a beat; then the boy’s face colored faintly, like watercolor blooming on paper.
“…No. I… misunderstood.”
Cha-heon gave an awkward laugh.
“I just… thought you might regret it someday. That’s why I said something.”
“…Regret?”
“Yeah. I don’t know what kind of family you come from, but even if academics are everything at home… I was worried you’d regret it.”
From what Kang I-hyeon had said, ranking near the top of the school and being good enough for the National Sports Festival was no small thing.
…Still number one, right?
For a student from that kind of household to maintain that kind of ranking and still carve out time to pick up a sword meant his love for the sport had to be something special.
And staying until ten at night isn’t ordinary dedication either.
He had heard this kid was the one who locked the gymnasium doors and the one who opened them. They had even run into each other a few times after evening self-study. You did not do that unless you genuinely loved it. That was what kept nagging at Cha-heon. Someone who worked this hard was quitting, and he could not just ignore it.
Besides—
“Maybe someday you’ll look back and think, ‘Yeah, that was a phase,’ and move on. Or maybe it’ll stick with you as unfinished business. Junior, when you hold a sword you look really happy.”
He could still remember the expression on the boy’s face after a match, after the bow, when he pulled off the helmet. That cold face had softened with the faintest smile, and life had flooded back into it.
I used to love judo too. If the accident hadn’t happened I would’ve kept going…
He had not had a choice. If he had been able to continue, he would have. The results did not matter; it had simply been fun.
…The moment the thought finished forming, Cha-heon sucked in a sharp breath.
What the hell am I doing? A national number-one student is quitting so he can study, and I’m standing here lecturing him?
Reality finally hit. He scrambled to clean up the situation.
“…Ah, sorry. I just couldn’t stop myself from sticking my nose in again even though you’re quitting.”
Embarrassed and awkward, Cha-heon scratched the back of his head and kept talking without a filter.
“Uh, even if you put the sword down and do whatever else… the way you looked holding one was still incredibly cool, and nothing you’ve done so far is going to be wasted.”
“……”
“I’ve already seen how diligent you are, junior. …Whatever you do next, you’ll be good at it. I just… got greedy for your skill and felt disappointed. Ha, I tried one last time to stop you, yeah.”
Still smiling stiffly, Cha-heon left a final apology for the unwanted meddling and started to step away.
“…My name isn’t ‘friend’ or ‘junior.’”
A low, very solemn voice came from behind him.
“Huh?”
“It’s Ji Hye-han. My name.”
“…Ah?”
In that instant Shin Cha-heon could only stare, eyes wide, at the boy who had just introduced himself as Ji Hye-han.
Because this was the real male lead of the webtoon that had reached episode 150: Ji Hye-han.
…Huh? Wait, that kid… ah.
Right—spoiler comments had said exactly that. Because the series was already finished, the latest comments were full of spoilers, and someone had written that the guy who used to be in the kendo club and then quit was the male lead.
…More importantly, how had he failed to recognize a face like that?
Ah, of course. In the original timeline Ji Hye-han had a short sports cut. Right now his bangs are longer and covering his forehead.
…Ah.
Come to think of it, he definitely had not been doing kendo by the time he was a third-year. That was probably another reason Cha-heon had not made the connection.
At that point Ji Hye-han was the kind of student who ranked first in the school and even scored perfect marks on the national mock exams. In his senior year he served as student council president, handled disciplinary patrols himself, and set an example for everyone else.
…His first meeting with Seo Ha-ra… right. On her first day after transferring she was late, got caught by Ji Hye-han who was just finishing patrol and heading back inside. She honestly told him she was new to the neighborhood and had gotten lost, and only then did he accept the explanation and walk her to class.
That was how their relationship had started—with favorability already banked—and even though they were in different classes, it grew into something warm and friendly, the complete opposite of her dynamic with Baek Yu-gyeong.
Seo Ha-ra was the textbook upright girl. She admitted her mistake, promised to be more careful next time, and thanked him prettily for escorting her. Ji Hye-han, whose personality was so straight it bordered on inflexible, found himself taking an interest in that sort of girl.
Stunned by a plot twist he had never seen coming, Cha-heon stared blankly until he finally managed to force his mouth to work.
“…Uh, yeah. Right, Hye-han junior…”
Because Ji Hye-han was being so formal, Cha-heon somehow ended up attaching a half-respectful title himself.
…He had answered, yet the silence continued. Ji Hye-han’s grey eyes simply kept boring into him.
…Unable to stand the quiet, Cha-heon forced a smile and tried for casual conversation.
“Wow, your name is actually really cool. Your parents must’ve put a lot of thought into it.”
“…Thank you. I was told my grandfather chose it.”
“Yeah, Ji Hye… Hye-han… man, how does a name get that cool?”
Ji Hye had good meaning; Hye-han just sounded sharp. Wow… wow…
He had been muttering to himself for a while when the awkwardness finally drove him to mutter that he had been terribly rude today and try to make his escape. That was when the boy spoke again.
“…Senior, you still haven’t told me your name.”
“Ah, me… Shin Cha-heon.”
“…Yes.”
…A truly taciturn reply.
How on earth did Seo Ha-ra ever hold a conversation with this guy?
In the webtoon Seo Ha-ra had somehow kept something resembling dialogue going with Ji Hye-han nonstop; only now did Cha-heon appreciate how impressive the original female lead really was.
“…Senior’s name is also…”
“Hmm?”
“…Never mind.”
Whatever he had been about to say, Hye-han swallowed it at once and gave a deep bow. Then he finished gathering his gear and left first.
The slightly hurried way he moved looked a little more flustered than the Ji Hye-han of a moment ago.
…But then what was the male lead’s family again?
…Ah, he was pretty sure it wasn’t the president.
And with that, Cha-heon pushed the last of his lingering curiosity to the back of his mind.