Apologies and Fried Chicken

“...I’m sorry.”

Around the time Baek Yu-gyeong vanished, Cha-heon stood side by side with Hye-han, listening to a lecture from the elderly second-year grade-level supervisor.

The teacher, well past fifty, scowled fiercely and shot Cha-heon a sidelong glare. Only when his eyes landed on the name tag pinned to Cha-heon’s chest—Shin Cha-heon—did his face twist into something even more sour, as if a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place.

“So you’re that third-year Shin Cha-heon.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you caused a scene with Baek Yu-gyeong in the cafeteria earlier and then ran off.”

“......”

Cha-heon felt truly wronged.

First of all, he hadn’t run—he’d been chased out. And if anything, he was closer to the victim here.

He’d been quietly eating alone when somehow he got counted as an accomplice. The injustice of it burned, but instead of arguing he simply shut his mouth.

In situations like this, the person doing the scolding wasn’t interested in sorting out right from wrong. The goal was pure discipline, so experience had taught him that a string of “yes, sir, I’m sorry” worked better.

Well, the high school I went to was the absolute peak of this sort of thing.

Of course not every teacher was like that; he knew people like this were only a portion. No profession was filled exclusively with saints. There were rotten doctors and judges just as there were excellent ones.

But Cha-heon had attended a high school that seemed to collect only the absolute worst of the worst, so scenes like this felt familiar. That was exactly why he’d found himself nodding along when Kang I-hyeon said that if you didn’t study well they didn’t even treat you like a person.

Especially the older ones among this type tended to be extremely conservative. The mere fact that a student had talked back was enough to make them fixate on that alone, branding the kid rude far beyond whatever the original offense had been.

...When I get back, maybe I should quit teaching.

No. He’d dreamed of becoming a teacher precisely because he’d seen so many people like this and decided that, at the very least, he would never be one of them. Especially after spending so much time in the athletic world and enduring that exact brand of contempt—he couldn’t give up now.

...And because he knew truly good teachers existed, too.

Cha-heon steeled himself.

“Are you going to keep dragging juniors into this kind of trouble? You even made a junior climb over the wall?”

...As the teacher’s sharp words kept coming, Cha-heon kept his mouth shut.

It’s been unfair from the start, but somehow every single point is weirdly accurate, so I don’t have anything to say.

He had, in fact, failed to stop them. Depending on how you looked at it, you could even say he’d egged them on a little. It was also true that he’d given up on persuading Baek Yu-gyeong and decided to climb over with them.

And thinking about the process that had led the rule-abiding, never-break-a-single-regulation Ji Hye-han to climb a wall... Cha-heon had to admit his own careless words hadn’t exactly been absent from the equation.

“I’m sorry.”

Cha-heon bowed his head without resistance. Separate from the fact that this teacher already viewed him poorly, when he added up everything that had happened so far, the scolding felt more than justified.

That was when Ji Hye-han, who had been standing silently beside him the whole time, finally spoke.

“No, sir. That isn’t true. Senior Shin Cha-heon didn’t tell me to do it—I did it on my own.”

“Ji Hye-han, if your senior told you to, you can just say he told you to.”

The ethics teacher clicked his tongue while looking at Hye-han. Hye-han shook his head and continued in a calm voice.

“Not at all. Senior Cha-heon told me I shouldn’t, but I used the excuse that today’s cafeteria food was bad and left on my own.”

“Do you really think that makes sense? I saw you in the cafeteria earlier myself.”

“...I’m still growing. I wasn’t full enough.”

“......”

“Besides, honestly, how could Senior Shin Cha-heon force me to do anything? He just couldn’t stop me, so he waited for me under the wall.”

“Well of course a senior would...”

The ethics teacher glanced back and forth between their height difference and let out a long sigh.

“Ji Hye-han, come with me.”

...Cha-heon’s eyes went round.

Ever since his relationship with his homeroom teacher, Ji Seok-hwan, had soured a little, the other teachers’ gazes had felt distinctly unfriendly. Yet somehow Hye-han’s words alone were enough to make them let it slide.

...Ah, this is bad. Shin Cha-heon’s image has completely turned into some delinquent who just goes around causing trouble.

But he still wasn’t sure whether this was truly one hundred percent his fault. Cha-heon frowned.

...This school is weird too. How do all the teachers end up with such similar personalities? Is it because this is inside a comic?

How to put it—it felt like they never listened to a single word a person said and simply judged everything through prejudice. This teacher hadn’t sunk to the level of personal insults the way Ji Seok-hwan did, but there was still that same odd habit of deciding everything in advance.

Sure, Cha-heon’s own actions hadn’t been perfect, but was this kind of blatant bias really okay? Couldn’t they at least hear him out a little?

...It feels like I’m attending my old high school all over again.

Comparing what he’d studied while preparing for the teacher certification exam with the actual behavior of the teachers here left him with a strange sense of dissonance.

Caught in that peculiar, hollow feeling, Cha-heon just stood there blankly.

...Huh?

Something with a little weight hooked onto his fingers with a soft tug. When he turned his head slightly, he saw that Hye-han, while walking past, had slipped an envelope into Cha-heon’s hand.

“...Huh? Hye—”

The moment their eyes met, Hye-han tugged the corner of his mouth upward, mouthed something silently, and followed the teacher away.

Amusingly enough, the envelope contained sweet and crispy fried chicken. Judging by how little time he’d had, he’d probably bought it at the snack shop right in front of the school. Looking at the fried pieces inside, Cha-heon let out a dry laugh and headed toward the building.

With only twenty minutes of lunch left, he hurried to Class 8 of the second year. There he spotted Baek Yu-gyeong sitting among a group of other kids.

...That kid really is popular, huh...

Cha-heon hesitated over whether to just leave it, then decided against entering the classroom. Instead he asked a second-year student if they could call Yu-gyeong out for a moment.

...He’d half expected Yu-gyeong might not come, but the boy glanced his way, then shot up from his seat and strode over.

“Yu-gyeong.”

“......”

“Are you trying to make hyung sad? Want a bite of this?”

“......”

For someone who had jumped up so quickly, every line of his body radiated pure dissatisfaction. Cha-heon had deliberately led him to a deserted corner so they could sneak the outside food, yet Yu-gyeong showed zero intention of eating. When Cha-heon speared a piece of fried chicken on a toothpick and held it out, Baek Yu-gyeong jerked his head away and pretended he didn’t exist.

...Aigoo...

...Feeding baby food to actual toddlers would probably be easier than this.

While Cha-heon was still fretting over what to do, a slightly sulky voice spilled out of Yu-gyeong.

“...You finished eating with Ji Hye-han and only came now, right?”

“Huh?”

“I’m completely last priority. Does hyung like Ji Hye-han better too?”

Wondering what fresh brand of childish sulking this was, Cha-heon looked at him, let out a short sigh, and set the toothpick down.

“It’s not like that. While you ran off, Hye-han got caught by a teacher while climbing the wall.”

“What?”

“Thanks to that, I got caught with him.”

Cha-heon flicked Yu-gyeong’s smooth forehead with a sharp knuckle and launched into a scolding.

“You little brat. You kept insisting we eat outside, so your senior and your friend both got yelled at, and we still didn’t even mention that you were an accomplice?”

“......”

“And after all that you’re saying you won’t eat? That’s full-on betrayal. You suggested it and then slipped away by yourself, huh?”

After a brief silence, Yu-gyeong held his forehead and blinked a few times before speaking carefully.

“...Are you going to feed me?”

“Yeah. So eat this and then go to class.”

“...Okay. I like hyung.”

It dissolved that easily.

Baek Yu-gyeong promptly opened his mouth, accepted a piece of meat, and chewed. Watching him eat, Cha-heon gave a faintly helpless smile.

“...Right. Later you should thank Hye-han too.”

“......”

Baek Yu-gyeong only rounded those big eyes of his and rolled them around. Then he opened his mouth again and started whining to be fed more.

Looking at that face, Cha-heon realized that even if he died and came back to life, Baek Yu-gyeong would never say thank you to Ji Hye-han. He simply stabbed another piece of chicken with limp resignation.

After lunch ended and he returned to the classroom, he found another note sitting in his desk drawer along with a chocolate.

After reading the note, Cha-heon simply folded the paper back up.

Baek Yu-gyeong, of course.

Lately notes like this kept appearing in his drawer along with something to eat, and the only person it could possibly be was Baek Yu-gyeong. Thanks to him, four identical chocolates were already stacked at home.

This kid can’t just waltz into someone else’s classroom and leave stuff like this.

He’d meant to give Yu-gyeong a piece of his mind about it, but the fact that he’d already forgotten four times said everything.

...I really do need to say something one of these days. I don’t even like this kind of stuff that much.

Last time, after seeing that Cha-heon barely touched the big pile of candy he’d received, the snacks had mysteriously switched over to things like rice crackers. This time it seemed the direction had shifted to chocolate.

“What’s that? Chocolate?”

“Yeah. Want it?”

As soon as lunch period ended, Kang I-hyeon, who sat next to him, asked, so Cha-heon held out the chocolate. I-hyeon had skipped lunch again for club practice, heading straight to the second gymnasium and only arriving late; Cha-heon figured he could use the sugar.

Kang I-hyeon reached for it without thinking, then spotted the note beside it and shook his head with a dubious look.

“...Dude. No matter what, I can’t eat something from the guy who’s been following you around saying he likes you.”

“Is that why you abandoned me yesterday?”

Seizing the chance to bring up yesterday, Cha-heon pressed the point. Kang I-hyeon clamped his mouth shut, then frantically pointed at the chocolate.

“...Uh, uh? This, this.”

“You’re trying to change the subject right now.”

“No, wait—this is from that Baek Yu-gyeong kid, right?”

“Probably.”

“...That’s kinda weird. The idea of that guy buying chocolate from the school store is a little...”

“You’re secretly a snob, huh?”

“Hey!”

Cha-heon half-ignored whatever I-hyeon was grumbling about beside him and flipped the chocolate over.

Yeah, definitely.

The ones he brought every time had never been ordinary mass-produced products. Most of them were handmade and carefully packaged as if sold in small batches. Last time he’d even tried to give a handkerchief stamped with a luxury logo; after Cha-heon firmly refused, saying he wouldn’t accept things like that, Yu-gyeong had apparently settled on unifying everything under snacks.

Still, if he’d rushed over during lunch to drop it off, it made sense. Either way, the fact that a student was spending money to buy him things never sat quite right with Cha-heon.

...Is this his way of thanking me for feeding him lunch? What a ridiculous kid.

He’d only stepped out to the bathroom for a second, and in that short time the other boy had already come and gone faster than him.

After finishing eighth period in relative peace and heading home, Cha-heon blinked when he saw a bright-haired boy standing at the landing of the third-year staircase. Naturally, it was Baek Yu-gyeong.

“Hyung, you’re not doing night study today, right? I’ll walk you home today.”

“......?”

...Do you have to?

Telling him to stop talking nonsense and just go home, Cha-heon came down to the second-year hallway—only for his gaze to snag on a group of familiar faces passing by.

Wait, those bastards? Aren’t those the ones who were smoking behind the old building last time and got water dumped on them by me?

The moment Cha-heon’s attention wandered, Yu-gyeong’s gaze naturally followed. Cha-heon hurriedly pressed a hand against Yu-gyeong’s cheek and turned his head away.

“Hyuuung?”

The way one cheek was squished and made his pronunciation leak out was weirdly funny, but Cha-heon grabbed his hand and bolted down the stairs.

“Ah! Let’s go, let’s go!”

We don’t need to look at kids like that.

But those bastards never pick a fight face-to-face, do they? Just talk trash behind people’s backs?

Well, if they fought Baek Yu-gyeong they’d probably lose anyway. Petty little cowards—acting like that and then trying to spread weird rumors.

Right. The kid had even carefully left him chocolate during lunch. Cha-heon decided he might as well let Yu-gyeong do as he pleased and take him home.

After all, he already knew perfectly well that trying to stop him would be completely useless.