Sihyeon’s eyes wavered slightly. Dawoon’s words had landed heavily. It was worse because it came from Dawoon of all people—someone who could be considered Kang Sihyeon’s closest confidant.
Thinking about it, it was only natural for Dawoon to feel suspicious of him. No—if anything, it might have been strange that it took this long. Ever since transmigrating, Sihyeon hadn’t even tried to imitate “Kang Sihyeon.”
He’d assumed he’d return soon, so he hadn’t even bothered with the most basic excuses. Considering that, it was almost surprising that Dawoon was only now voicing a concrete doubt.
His mouth slowly went dry. Only after hearing Dawoon’s words did Sihyeon realize that Kang Sihyeon’s academic performance hadn’t been good.
“…….”
Silence fell over Room 207, which had been noisy just moments ago. Under the gaze of everyone present, Sihyeon’s blue eyes sank into thought.
He had, through a series of events, barely managed to accept—or rather, resign himself to—the fact that he had to live as Kang Sihyeon. But that didn’t mean he had truly become Kang Sihyeon. That compromise had only been made between himself and Kang Sihyeon—not between himself and the people around Kang Sihyeon.
To those who had known the original Kang Sihyeon, he was still “Kang Sihyeon,” not “Yoo Sihyeon.”
Dawoon’s brown eyes felt sharp. Sihyeon closed and opened his eyes, then slowly swallowed.
And then—
“I studied a bit in my room in February.”
He lied.
If he were to continue living as Kang Sihyeon in front of others, then every word he spoke would inevitably be a lie. Sihyeon realized that clearly for the first time in this moment.
A strange sense of discomfort crept in—something unpleasant, something unsettling, something he couldn’t quite put into words.
Even though he was in the same space, it felt like he was floating, detached from everything. He couldn’t blend in. Just as that thought reached its peak, Sihyeon unconsciously grabbed Haru’s hand. Only after feeling the warmth in his grasp did a slow sense of stability return.
“…If you say so, then I guess that’s how it is.”
There was a long pause before Dawoon finally spoke. Despite having sharply pointed it out earlier, she let it go easily—even with such a flimsy excuse. It was strange.
As the silence lingered, Haeun cracked a few jokes about why things had suddenly gotten so serious. Only then did the atmosphere return to normal, and Sihyeon relaxed.
“…Then, shall we start with Korean?”
Trying to resume the study session that had been interrupted, Sihyeon asked, and Haru nodded. Perhaps because of the mood, Seowoo, Geonwoo, and Haeun didn’t speak up like before. In the quiet room, aside from Sihyeon and Haru’s voices, only the faint scratching of writing could be heard.
Sihyeon couldn’t shake off the intermittent waves of discomfort that kept rising within him.
***
“This is insane….”
That was what Haeun muttered when Sihyeon’s timer hit exactly 3 hours and 22 minutes since they started studying. Even after three hours, they still hadn’t finished a single subject. Sihyeon shot Haeun a look as he started complaining.
We haven’t even finished one subject yet.
Unless they caught up with the exam scope first, even attempting problems would be difficult. It was a relief that Haru learned quickly, but there was still a long way to go.
Thinking about the weekend leading up to the exams, even filling today’s timer to ten hours wouldn’t be enough. As Sihyeon adjusted his grip on his pen—
Thud.
Haru suddenly collapsed face-down onto the desk.
“Hyung?”
He’d been following along just fine until now, but suddenly it was like he was declaring surrender. When Sihyeon called him, Haru slowly turned his head to look at him. Without his thick-framed glasses, his exposed red eyes looked pitiful.
For some reason, he resembled a puppy caught in the rain.
“…Are you tired?”
“…Yeah.”
It seemed he had been struggling more than he let on. The moment Haeun complained, Haru immediately showed that he didn’t want to continue. Sihyeon let out a small sigh.
Haru hadn’t been like this before.
Without thinking, Sihyeon glanced at Haeun, then shook his head slightly. Maybe he’d picked up a bad influence.
“…Then do you want to take a break?”
Reluctantly, he offered, and Haru nodded while still face-down. His hair brushed against the textbook with a soft rustling sound.
“Then let’s rest for 30 minutes and start again slowly.”
While Haru rested, Sihyeon planned to catch up on the subjects he’d neglected. Patting Haru’s shoulder as if to say “good job,” Sihyeon opened his textbook—then paused and looked up.
Hamin and Geonwoo were asleep, while Dawoon and Jihye were on their phones. Turning his gaze toward Seowoo, he saw that he was the only one among the Four Heavenly Kings still holding a pen.
In the end, the only ones left standing were himself, Haru, Seowoo, and Haeun. And even Haeun was gradually slumping onto the table, so it would soon be down to three.
Why did they even insist on doing this if they weren’t going to study?
“Not going well?”
Sensing his gaze, Seowoo looked up and asked. Sihyeon shook his head, saying his studying was only just beginning, then glanced at Dawoon and Jihye, who were still on their phones.
Noticing his gaze, Dawoon nudged Jihye. As if they had planned it, both stood up and started packing their things. Sihyeon had at least expected Jihye to stick it out—but apparently, she wasn’t the type to study to death either.
“We’ll head out first. Good luck!”
Jihye clenched her fist in encouragement before turning to leave. Watching her hurry out, Sihyeon noticed Dawoon give him a brief nod.
For some reason, it felt like the distance between them had grown.
Sihyeon returned the gesture silently and watched them leave from his seat.
Click.
As the door closed, the study group shrank to six. Two had already fallen asleep, and one was just starting to, so in reality, only three remained.
After briefly scanning the remaining conscious members, Sihyeon returned to his textbook.
Scratch, scratch.
In the quiet room, the sound of pencils filled the air. After a few moments, a faint clinking sound made him look up—Seowoo was putting on glasses.
It was an unfamiliar sight.
“You wear glasses too?”
“Only sometimes, when I study for a long time.”
At the casual reply, Sihyeon observed him. Maybe it was because he looked like a model student, but Yoo Seowoo suited glasses so well it felt like he had been born wearing them.
After briefly drifting into thought during the break, Sihyeon refocused on his studies.
The timer beeped, and Haru made a miserable face shortly after.
…Maybe my kid’s a genius.
By the time the timer reached five hours, Haru had caught up quite a bit. When Sihyeon handed him a workbook, he ended up marking sixteen circles in a row.
As Sihyeon graded it, he was impressed. Honestly, he hadn’t expected much—but Haru’s score was better than he thought.
“You’re doing well.”
“…Ah.”
Embarrassed by the praise, Haru lowered his head. As Sihyeon encouraged him, saying he could do it, Seowoo—who had been quietly studying—took off his glasses.
Glancing at his timer, Sihyeon let out a small exclamation. Seowoo had already reached five hours. Unlike the others, Yoo Seowoo was clearly an excellent student.
“Finished?”
“Who knows. Are you finished?”
“I think I’ll do a bit more.”
“Then I guess I’m not done either.”
…How does that conclusion make sense?
The conversation took a strange turn, and Seowoo smiled. Placing his glasses on the table, he stood up and walked over to Sihyeon.
Wondering what he was doing, Sihyeon watched as Seowoo leaned slightly and looked at Haru’s workbook—the one Sihyeon had been grading.
“Looks like your partner’s score.”
“Ah, yeah. For a first try, isn’t it pretty good?”
This must be how parents felt when they bragged about their talented kids. Realizing that sentiment at such a young age, Sihyeon felt oddly proud as he commented on how fast Haru was learning.
Seowoo didn’t respond.
Instead, his larger hand slid under Sihyeon’s and pulled out another workbook.
Flip—
After skimming through it, Seowoo sat down beside him. With Seowoo on his left and Haru on his right, Sihyeon met those platinum-colored eyes that were hard to read.
Only then did Seowoo finally respond, a beat late.
“He got a lot right.”
“Not just a lot—he got almost everything right.”
“Yeah….”
Murmuring absentmindedly, Seowoo opened the workbook. His fingers brushed over the advanced problems before he turned his gaze back to Sihyeon after a short pause.
“If I get them right, do I get anything?”
“What?”
Cough.
Sihyeon almost choked. If he’d been drinking water, he would’ve definitely spit it out. As he stared in disbelief, Seowoo chuckled softly and casually took a pen from Sihyeon’s pencil case.
“You said I was pretty before.”
“…….”
“But I don’t think you’ve actually treated me like I’m pretty. If I’m pretty, you should treat me like it. It’s kind of upsetting if you only dote on one person.”
“You want to be doted on by a guy?”
“Not particularly.”
I just want it from you, Sihyeon.
The words slipped in gently, delivered in a soft voice. Was this just his natural disposition? Everything he said felt oddly intimate.
As Sihyeon stared at him, unsure how to respond, Seowoo’s hand kept moving—already solving problems at a rapid pace.
Sihyeon was at a loss for words.
In the quiet scratching of pencils, Sihyeon sat there alone, unsure how to react—until he felt someone tug lightly at his clothes.
He turned his head.
Everyone else was slumped over, so it could only be Haru.
“What is it?”
“…Should I do more too?”
Just earlier, he had seemed happy to stop after finishing one set—but now, out of nowhere, he was showing enthusiasm for studying. Slightly bewildered, Sihyeon told him he could continue if he wanted. Haru took the workbook, then paused and looked back at him.
“Hey.”
“Is there something you don’t understand?”
“…No.”
“Then what?”
“…Me too… can you…?”
“What?”
His voice was too quiet to hear properly. As Sihyeon tilted his head, trying to catch it, the tips of Haru’s ears turned red. Pressing his lips together, Haru glanced sideways.
Judging by his gaze, he seemed to be looking at Seowoo.
“…I’ll study hard.”
“Huh? …Okay.”
Something felt off.
He wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, but one thing was certain—this study session was taking a very strange turn.
Rolling his eyes, Sihyeon looked over at Hamin, who was sleeping peacefully.
The atmosphere was weird enough that it felt like if Hamin woke up, he’d immediately start cursing.
