The Top Student Hides Her Regression
Chapter 25
“What was Han Gyeo-wool even trying to do by locking you in here?”
“Not Han Gyeo-wool. Song Yeo-reum.”
“I got half of it right.”
“You didn’t get any of it right, what are you talking about…?”
“(Shameless)”
“Who knows. She probably did it without thinking just because she thought she could mess with me. Or, well…”
“Or what?”
“…Even if I’m locked in, I’d still have to use the bathroom. Wait until I can’t hold it anymore and do it in here… take a picture, and humiliate me?”
“Is she crazy?”
“Are trainees not allowed to date? You haven’t even debuted yet.”
“They think you lack desperation. And at our agency, you have to hand in your phone once you debut anyway. Until you win first place.”
“Wow~ Adults really play around with idols just because they’re young, huh?”
“Jung Eun-sung, did you finish reading it?”
“Do you think I have?”
“Hurry up and read.”
“All right.”
“Read it within ten minutes.”
“I said I got it.”
“Tick-tock, tick-tock.”
“…….”
“I’m hungry.”
Cold, hungry, and sleepy. I was practically a beggar. I sniveled, lamenting my state.
I had completely put on Jung Eun-sung’s school uniform sweater, which I’d previously draped over my shoulders, while Jung Eun-sung sat a good distance away from me, seemingly unbothered by the cold despite wearing only a dress shirt.
“Should we write SOS on a piece of A4 paper and stick it to the window?”
Jung Eun-sung looked at me with contempt as I babbled nonsense.
Even so, this was tremendous progress compared to earlier when we were shouting and hurling accusations at each other.
I didn’t think I’d ever had such a calm conversation with Jung Eun-sung since regressing.
“Don’t you think the classroom’s been kind of dark lately?”
“Isn’t that just because your beloved Jae isn’t there?”
“…….”
At times like this, I really wanted to hit him.
Glaring at Jung Eun-sung, I hunched my shoulders again. The scent of fabric softener wafted up from the sweater I was wearing.
“Smells nice.”
Without thinking, I pulled up the sweater to sniff it, only for Jung Eun-sung to leap up from his seat.
“Ah, why are you sniffing that!”
“No, it just smelled nice……”
“Are you a pervert?”
“Do you want me to be a pervert?”
Because that would mean you’re locked in here alone with a pervert right now, you know? When I pointed out this cold reality, Jung Eun-sung’s cheeks turned bright red.
I chuckled and looked out the window. It was dark. Jung Eun-sung, following my gaze outside, asked,
“When do your parents come home?”
“My mom? She won’t be back until past midnight. What about your parents, Jung Eun-sung?”
“…It’d probably be faster to count on your parents.”
Brushing it off with an ambiguous expression, Jung Eun-sung tried opening the locked door again, which he had been attempting persistently for a while.
“I told you it won’t work……”
Rebuking him, I walked over and joined him by the door.
“Should we try together on the count of three?”
Suggesting we do it together, I placed my hand over Jung Eun-sung’s hand on the doorknob. The veins on the back of his hand were prominent, so I mindlessly pressed down on them.
Jung Eun-sung flinched instantly.
“? What? Is it opening?”
I couldn’t see well because of the shadows. I widened my eyes and looked up at Jung Eun-sung.
Our eyes met.
The dark hallway. The contrastingly bright club room. On the border between light and darkness, a face ten years younger than my last memory of him glowed.
0.
1.
2.
3.
After what felt like a rather long time without blinking once, Jung Eun-sung slowly lowered his gaze. Staring at my hand resting on top of his, Jung Eun-sung suddenly spoke.
“…Ah.”
“Ah?”
“This isn’t going to work.”
Letting go of the door, Jung Eun-sung strode across to the window on the opposite side and rattled it open.
And then, he jumped.
?!
“Jung Eun-sung!”
I hurriedly leaned out to look.
I saw Jung Eun-sung rolling across the flower bed, grimacing as he stood up with the back of his white shirt covered in dirt and debris.
His face, his face!
He can’t injure his face!
“Are you okay?!”
I leaned my upper body out the window and shouted. Jung Eun-sung gave a rough nod and pointed toward the central staircase with his hand. It seemed he meant he would come back up to unlock the door for me.
Fortunately, his face looked fine.
However.
“You’re limping?!”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine at all!”
Weren’t legs just as important as the face for an idol?! You have to dance!
“Wouldn’t it have been better to just wait for our parents to come!!!!!”
“They’d have to be there for me to wait.”
Jung Eun-sung’s muttered response didn’t even register in my ears.
“Hey, don’t move! If you hurt your ankle, moving around recklessly will make it worse! Just wait there!”
Without even listening to Jung Eun-sung’s answer, I sprang into action.
Grabbing prop wigs, costumes, and cushions piled up nearby, I tossed them down indiscriminately. Once they formed a roughly circular mound below,
I slipped myself out the window too.
“Ack!”
I landed face-first onto the cushions, and Jung Eun-sung quickly grabbed hold of me to help me up.
“Are you okay?!”
“Yeah, yeah… Ptooey.”
Ugh. Hair.
“Why did you jump? You’re so short, too.”
“Ha… It’s not like you’re vastly taller than me, either!”
“I told you, I’m over 180!”
“Talk to me once you’re over 188.”
Because your final height is 187.
I stood up and rotated my wrists and ankles. My ankles were fine, but my wrist ached.
Seeing me touch my wrist, Jung Eun-sung’s expression hardened.
“Are you hurt?”
“It hurts a little, but I don’t think it’s sprained.”
“…You have to study.”
“What about you? You’re the one who has to dance, yet you went and hurt your ankle.”
“Mine isn’t sprained either. It just took a bit of impact.”
“…….”
“…….”
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”
My wrist hurt, and Jung Eun-sung’s ankle hurt.
I supported the limping Jung Eun-sung to help him walk, while he carried the book and the book report notebook that I had somehow managed to grab before jumping.
“Hey, lean on me properly. Why are you flailing around like that?”
“If I lean on you properly, you’ll fall over.”
“Lean on me anyway.”
I pulled Jung Eun-sung’s arm—which he was making every effort to keep from touching me—and draped it over my shoulder.
Limping along while leaning on each other felt absurd and hilarious at the same time.
Jung Eun-sung seemed to feel the same way, chuckling softly. His body heat pressed against me was scorching warm, just as I’d expected.
He really smells good……
“Jung Eun-sung, won’t you get scolded when you go to the agency? For failing to take care of your body.”
“Something like this will heal completely on the way home.”
“I hope so.”
If I were a bit bigger, I would have carried him on my back on the way out. As I thought that, something suddenly came to mind.
A short story by Ha Geun-chan depicting the tragedies of modern Korean history. A situation similar to ours right now……
“Jung Eun-sung, do you happen to know The Suffering of Two Generations?”
“Is that a prestigious university?”
What an uneducated fool……
“Yeah. One of the top prestigious universities in our country. Hankuk University, Doksuri University, Horangi University, and The Suffering of Two Generations.”
“Oh.”
‘Oh’ my foot.
In that story, the father carries his son on his back across the bridge. The father lost an arm during the Japanese colonial period, and the son lost a leg during the Korean War.
“Read some books.”
“Out of nowhere?”
Supporting a bewildered Jung Eun-sung, we somehow made it all the way to the school gate.
“I’m fine now.”
“Me too.”
After Jung Eun-sung rotated his ankle once to check, I took back the book and notebook from him.
A spring breeze in March swept through our dirt-streaked hair. Shadows fell across Jung Eun-sung’s face beneath the streetlight.
Our unblinking, locked gaze felt strangely awkward.
As if feeling the same way, Jung Eun-sung let out a dry cough to clear his throat before asking,
“Are you going straight home?”
“I have to. Don’t you need to go to the agency?”
“Yeah.”
“…….”
“…….”
Thump. Thump. Why am I suddenly remembering the moment our hands overlapped in the club room earlier?
Thump. Thump. Why is my heartbeat pounding in my ears?
“Ah, Jung Eun-sung. What are you going to do about the music performance assessment? I still haven’t thought of a difficult song.”
I could just say goodbye and turn around to head home, so why am I blabbering about random things?
“Don’t you just have to sing well?”
“Do you think that’s easy?”
“…Want me to help you?”
“…You?”
“Yeah.”
Why is Jung Eun-sung actually rolling with the random nonsense I blurted out without thinking?
“I mean, that’d be great for me, but……”
Why is my face suddenly burning up just because Jung Eun-sung offered to help?
Thank goodness the streetlight was orange. Unable to even wet my suddenly parched lips with my tongue, I managed to force out,
“You barely have any time, will it really be okay?”
Kicking the asphalt lightly with his sneaker, Jung Eun-sung replied,
“…Then you can tutor me in my studies too.”
“I’m not that good at it, though…”
“You’re probably better than me.”
“All right, then.”
“All right.”
“…….”
“…….”
Business was done, and everything that needed to be said had been said.
So why weren’t either of us saying, ‘Goodbye, then’?
Since when, and for what reason, did the mood turn like this?
Just as I was about to say goodbye first, having dragged it out so long that lingering any further would feel bizarre, Jung Eun-sung rubbed his cheek with the back of his hand and spoke in a somewhat rushed cadence.
“Hey, Kang Da-hye…”
“Eun-sung-ah, is school just ending now?”
A high-pitched voice abruptly cut in. Startled, I spun around.
A woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties, holding luxury brand shopping bags in both hands, was blinking and staring at us.
A pink frilled blouse, a white skirt reminiscent of a ballerina’s tutu, long hair reaching down to her waist, and a flower crown perched atop her head.
After staring fixedly at me standing beside Jung Eun-sung for a few seconds, the woman smiled at him.
“Why did you come out so late? Were you studying?”
“…….”
I know this woman.
This woman… she’s Jung Eun-sung’s sasaeng.
