“…….”
For a moment, silence fell over the auditorium. As Sihyeon lifted his head and saw the face above him, his expression twisted in irritation. Meeting Sihyeon’s gaze, Seowoo smiled and tightened the arm wrapped around him. The clear difference in their builds caused Sihyeon’s slender frame to be buried against Seowoo. His pride crumpled.
“You….”
“Are you going to use casual speech with me now?”
“…….”
Was that really what mattered right now?
Annoyed by the pointless remark, Sihyeon shot Seowoo a glare. He was sure he had asked him earlier to pretend they didn’t know each other… but what pretending—he was talking about being partners with someone who had no intention of giving anything in return. If nothing else, Seowoo seemed exceptionally talented at ignoring what others said.
How was that guy kind and gentle in any way? No matter how he thought about it, the personality keywords listed for Yoo Seowoo in This Kind of Ending had to be wrong.
“Cut the nonsense.”
After repeatedly being dragged into polite speech, Sihyeon finally switched to casual speech and stared at the arm still wrapped around him. It was obvious he had no intention of letting go until Sihyeon responded.
“Let go.”
At his words, Seowoo obediently released him, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender while offering a harmless smile.
“Sorry.”
The apology came before Sihyeon could even scold him. He bit his lip. The way Seowoo handled things made it impossible to even lightly criticize him—it was irritating.
Though, to begin with, it wasn’t really a situation where he could complain.
Thanks to the two of them carelessly engaging in a standoff without any regard for their surroundings, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that every gaze in the auditorium was fixed on him. In a situation like this, one wrong word and he’d become “that guy who said something to one of the Four Heavenly Kings.” Watching his mouth was essential.
He was already getting unwanted attention because of the class test—he had no desire to attract even more. Suppressing the complaints rising inside him, Sihyeon glanced at Hamin and Seowoo, who were now exchanging looks in a silent battle of nerves.
Why are you doing this over me? You’ve got the wrong person.
After confirming that Dawoon was also watching him like everyone else, he swallowed the words he would’ve been labeled crazy for saying out loud.
Why were they leaving the female lead alone and acting like this toward him? As he pondered that, a hypothesis suddenly flashed through his mind. His gaze shifted between Dawoon and Hamin. Hamin was looking at Seowoo, but Dawoon was looking at Hamin.
…Ah.
A small realization escaped Sihyeon’s lips. He had found the narrative justification for this absurd situation where the male lead was asking the sub male lead to be partners.
I’m the stepping stone. The bridge to make Dawoon and Hamin aware of each other.
By now, Dawoon probably saw Hamin as “that rude jerk who bullies my friend and deserves to die.” Then one day, she’d bravely stand up to him, telling him not to mess with her friend—and Hamin, drawn to her, would fall in love.
The cliché web novel progression flowed naturally in his mind, and Sihyeon let out a hollow laugh. It might sound ridiculous, but this was exactly how web novels worked.
A male lead drawn to a unique female lead, the two falling in love absurdly fast. Sometimes it was love at first sight, sometimes they’d trip and accidentally kiss and fall for each other. The female lead even possessed an irresistible charm that could captivate anyone with just a blink—an invincible narrative device.
In web novels, outstanding looks and personality were the justification. So even his flimsy hypothesis held up.
Of course, there was still the question: Did Hamin really need to ask me to be partners for that? But considering that the female lead’s childhood friend often got dragged into all sorts of situations, it was plausible.
Sure, the childhood friend happened to be the sub male lead, but still.
Alright—Hamin’s irrational behavior could be understood. He was just fulfilling the role of “male lead #1 approaching the female lead’s friend to get her attention.”
But the other one was different.
Yoo Seowoo wasn’t even the main male lead, nor the type of person who would mess with the female lead’s friend. So what exactly was his deal?
Hamin was one thing, but Seowoo had no reason to act like this. From the moment they met this morning until now, Sihyeon couldn’t figure out his intentions at all. Letting out a sigh at the ongoing standoff, Sihyeon came to one clear conclusion:
His life had officially become a mess.
He hadn’t managed to shake off Dawoon, and now he was acquainted with two of the Four Heavenly Kings. If he ended up partnering with one of them too, he’d have to say goodbye to any semblance of a normal, ordinary life.
Just as he scratched his neck and opened his mouth to intervene—
“What is it?”
“What do you mean, what?”
The timing couldn’t have been worse.
Hamin spoke first, stealing the moment. Sihyeon shut his mouth again.
Seowoo smiled brightly, unreadable as ever, and Hamin scoffed.
“Quit smiling like that and say what you mean.”
He’s really blunt.
Sihyeon, who had only thought of Seowoo as annoying internally until now, found himself unconsciously nodding in agreement with Hamin, who voiced his thoughts outright. Watching a fight really was the most entertaining thing—before he knew it, he had front-row seats.
“What exactly do you want me to say?”
“Why is he your partner?”
“Not ‘he’—it’s Sihyeon.”
“Yeah, so when did you even meet him to act all close and steal someone else’s partner?”
When was I ever your partner?
What started as a simple standoff was taking a strange turn. If they wanted to fight, they should fight each other—why drag him into it?
As Sihyeon narrowed his eyes at them, Seowoo’s hand brushed against his fingertips. Tap, tap—like a childish game, he tapped them before suddenly clasping his hand. Startled, Sihyeon looked at him. Seowoo’s lips curved into a perfect smile.
“Who do you think is pretending to be close?”
His gentle voice made it sound as though they were actually close. Hamin’s eyebrow twitched.
“So you’re saying you are close?”
“Who knows.”
They weren’t close at all. He’d rather they stayed strangers for life.
“Strictly speaking, you didn’t even know Sihyeon’s name, Hamin. Why—are you interested in the new class?”
Seowoo’s calm voice seemed to scrape harshly against Hamin’s nerves. It was almost impressive how he could use such a pleasant voice to irritate someone so effectively. As Sihyeon quietly pulled his hand free, Hamin, who had frowned at Seowoo’s words, let out a scoff and stepped forward.
“What’s this, Yoo Seowoo? You’ve never touched something I got to first.”
“Sihyeon isn’t an object. And you’re mistaken—I was first.”
That part was true.
At first, Sihyeon had considered stopping them, but inserting himself with something like “Don’t fight because of me!” would’ve been even more ridiculous. Enduring the embarrassment of being the cause of this childish argument, he nodded in agreement with Seowoo’s entirely reasonable words.
Noticing that, Hamin’s face visibly twisted.
“Move, Yoo Seowoo.”
Hamin’s voice dropped lower than before, laced with menace. Anyone would’ve flinched at the threatening tone, but Seowoo’s smile didn’t waver.
“I don’t know what you might do, so why would I move?”
“I told you—I’m taking him as my partner.”
“I said he’s my partner.”
Again—no one here was even asking what he wanted.
No matter who won this pointless standoff, Sihyeon had no intention of partnering with any of the Four Heavenly Kings. They’d all been together since middle school anyway—why not just pair up among themselves and film their own coming-of-age movie?
Seriously, why were they acting like enemies if they were supposed to be the Four Heavenly Kings?
…No, maybe they weren’t enemies—maybe Seowoo had just unusually gotten on Hamin’s nerves.
Piecing together their relationship from what he’d heard, Sihyeon nodded to himself and glanced around. Thanks to the argument, all the attention that had been on him had shifted to them.
Perfect timing.
Since he had slipped out of Seowoo’s grasp, now was his chance to leave. Slowly, he began stepping backward—
“Why don’t we just let Sihyeon choose?”
A bright, innocent voice ruined everything.
Sihyeon’s expression crumpled.
“Why are you getting involved now?”
Hamin frowned at Haeun, who had been watching silently until now before suddenly jumping in. The silver-haired boy turned toward Sihyeon and waved.
“Hi!”
“…….”
Ignoring Hamin completely, he greeted Sihyeon cheerfully. Sihyeon stared at him. Not only had he ruined his escape, but now he was drawing even more attention to him. There was no way that greeting would be welcome.
Sihyeon stayed silent. He couldn’t exactly spit on a smiling face, but this wasn’t a situation where he could smile back either.
Haeun tilted his head and smiled anyway, as if he hadn’t expected a response to begin with.
“I’m Kang Haeun, and this is Baek Geonwoo! It looked fun, so I dragged him along. Want to say hi?”
As Haeun gestured behind him, Sihyeon glanced over—and froze when his eyes met a pair of vivid blue ones.
He swallowed.
If his own pale blue eyes were like color diluted in clear water, Baek Geonwoo’s were strikingly vivid, as bright as his hair. Their gazes locked for a moment that felt longer than it was.
Sihyeon was the first to look away.
Realizing he had stared without thinking, he turned his head, only to find those eyes lingering in his vision.
Slightly upturned eyes framed by long lashes—sharp, cold, almost feline.
Feeling awkward at how much he had noticed in such a short moment, Sihyeon rubbed the back of his neck and turned back to Haeun, deliberately avoiding looking at Geonwoo again.
“So you’re Sihyeon, right?”
“Yeah.”
After briefly debating whether to respond, he answered—Haeun seemed like he’d drag things out with polite speech just like Seowoo otherwise. At his reply, Haeun stepped closer.
Sihyeon instinctively stepped back.
For some reason, he had a bad feeling about this guy.
“I’m Kang too, you know. You’re Kang as well?”
“…What?”
The nonsense completely deflated his tension. Sihyeon stared at him blankly. Haeun burst into laughter, covering his mouth.
Only then did it sink in—this guy was the “cute one” among the Four Heavenly Kings. He practically needed an emoticon like “>ㅁ<” next to him.
“So, who do you want to partner with?”
The conversation, which had drifted off into nonsense, returned to the main point. Honestly, Sihyeon wished it had drifted all the way to the North Pole instead.
As he glanced around, he swallowed when he saw Seowoo and Hamin staring directly at him. If this could’ve been resolved with a single answer from him, their argument would’ve ended long ago.
“What’s there to think about? A Dual and a Swordsman aren’t even comparable.”
“I can do well too, Sihyeon.”
…Why are you doing this to me?
This wasn’t some 1v1 partner audition show. Watching the Four Heavenly Kings start appealing to him, Sihyeon stepped back, directing his frustration toward Haeun.
If it weren’t for him, he could’ve escaped already.
How were they all this unhelpful?
Haeun blinked at his annoyed gaze, then smiled.
“I’m good too! I haven’t picked a partner yet.”
“Hey.”
“Haeun-ah?”
Seriously, why me?
Apparently, making eye contact had been a mistake. Taking it as interest, Haeun cheerfully added—
“Geonwoo’s good too!”
Did anyone ask him?
With that, Hamin and Seowoo started arguing again about who was first. Sihyeon stared at the Four Heavenly Kings with dry eyes.
“So why did you suddenly jump in?”
“Hahaha, it looked fun.”
“It’s a headache.”
Watching the three of them bicker, they finally looked like close friends. Even if Hamin was grabbing Haeun by the collar and Seowoo was holding his forehead.
Taking advantage of the moment, Sihyeon slowly stepped back again.
The crowd parted as he moved—like Moses.
“Ah! He’s running away!”
Damn it.
Haeun shouted, and both Hamin and Seowoo turned toward him. His second escape attempt failed.
“You have to choose before you go, Sihyeon.”
“Why are you dragging this out?”
“So who is it?”
Their voices came at him all at once, fueling his urge to flee. Desperately, he scanned the room—
And spotted Dawoon.
He didn’t want to, but that hell seemed better than this one. Just as he was about to call for help—
Heh.
Dawoon smiled.
As if to say, Try your best.
Like the ruler of hell itself.
Sihyeon shut his mouth, clenched his teeth, and looked elsewhere.
Anyone but them.
Frantically scanning, his gaze suddenly landed on a black-haired boy at the edge of his vision. His blue eyes widened.
How had he not noticed him before?
The boy was tall but looked frail, his shaggy black hair covering his eyes. Thick glasses sat on his face. It wasn’t perfect—but compared to the Four Heavenly Kings, it was paradise.
The boy, apparently still unpaired, was staring quietly at the extra ring in his hand. The fact that he wasn’t looking at Sihyeon in this chaos was already a plus.
Like discovering wild ginseng, Sihyeon felt a surge of joy.
What was this called again?
Ah, right.
Jackpot.
