After the first day, Dawoon and Jihye didn’t come back, and the study group continued steadily each week with two fewer members. Toward the end of each session, Sihyeon found himself feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction watching Haru solve problems one after another as soon as he set the day’s material. Korean hovered around the low 80s, and math was even lower, but they’d achieved their goal. With those scores, at least, he wouldn’t have to clean the bathrooms.
However, the problem arose somewhere completely unexpected.
8 points.
It was a score from Geonwoo that he never could have imagined. Even after belatedly sticking to him with one-on-one, lecture-style teaching, the bleak result didn’t change. And it was the same even today—the day before the exam.
Tap.
Setting his pen down, Sihyeon lowered his gaze to the workbook he had graded himself.
8 points.
No matter how desperately he taught him, Geonwoo’s score didn’t change. At best it was 15 points; at worst, below 10. At first, he thought it was a joke, but it wasn’t. Recalling what he had come to realize over the past few days, Sihyeon finally closed the workbook.
And along with it, he folded up the passion he had for teaching Geonwoo.
“Hang in there.”
At the short, plain encouragement, Geonwoo nodded. Seeing that calm, indifferent expression made a sigh slip out. Once the exams were over, it felt like he wouldn’t be seeing him for a while.
Imagining Geonwoo crouched on the floor, scrubbing toilets, Sihyeon felt a flicker of pity.
Cleaning all the bathrooms up to the fifth floor of the dormitory.
Strongest High made it painfully clear—if your brain didn’t work, your body would suffer.
“…Even when I teach him memorization, he somehow memorizes it wrong. That’s the problem.”
“Just give up, Sihyeon. We already tried teaching him back in middle school and it didn’t work. Even Seowoo gave up—what more is there to say! Our Geonwoo’s brain must be made of stone!”
At least say it a little more tactfully.
Worried that the blunt remark might have hurt him, Sihyeon glanced at Geonwoo, but his expression was no different than before. He seemed already used to Haeun’s harsh words. Whether that was a good thing or something to feel sorry about was hard to tell.
“Still, just in case, keep reviewing with him until tomorrow morning. There’s nothing we can do about him memorizing the Imjin War as the Jeongyu War, but maybe the simpler stuff will stick. At least his calculation skills are good, so that’s a relief.”
Math: 100 points. Korean history: 8 points.
Comparing the two scores that were worlds apart, Sihyeon stared at Geonwoo. He really didn’t seem like it, but Baek Geonwoo was thoroughly a science-track type.
Maybe it’s because he doesn’t think much—just calculates like a machine.
“Want to make a bet on our scores?”
While that slightly harsh thought lingered briefly, Haeun suddenly suggested a bet. Just like the PC café incident—again with the betting. He wasn’t a goblin, so why did he like bets so much?
As if it were prearranged, the Four Heavenly Kings—except for Haeun—nodded. It felt oddly like déjà vu.
Why are you nodding in the first place?
Sihyeon looked at Geonwoo in disbelief—he was the one most certain to lose, yet he agreed to the bet without hesitation. Just then, Haeun tugged on Sihyeon’s clothes.
“Hyeon-i, you should join too! Haru hyung too!”
“No thanks. What kind of bet is it anyway?”
As long as Haru didn’t end up cleaning, that was enough. That had been the whole point of starting the study group in the first place.
He refused without hesitation, and Haeun’s brows drooped. If it were Geonwoo, he might’ve felt a bit of sympathy, but not for Haeun. It felt like watching crocodile tears.
“Guess it doesn’t work on you, so you’re pushing it onto them instead.”
Looking at the third-floor guys who kept sticking around Room 207—even though it wasn’t even their room—he spoke dryly. Haeun muttered that his tone was heartless, sounding genuinely hurt. But since Sihyeon had never treated them kindly to begin with, it didn’t affect him.
“Worry about your exam instead.”
Even his flat remark only drew a pout from Haeun.
***
“Do well on the exam.”
At last, the day of the test arrived after the chaotic study sessions. Sitting in his seat, Sihyeon murmured quietly to Haru beside him. Even though the teacher had already entered and he spoke softly, Haru caught it immediately and nodded.
Just don’t make a mistake—and don’t end up cleaning bathrooms.
If he ever said he’d accidentally misaligned his answer sheet, it would be nothing short of a disaster. Hoping all his effort wouldn’t be ruined by a careless mistake, Sihyeon encouraged him. When the preliminary bell rang, he straightened the body he had leaned toward Haru.
The test papers were handed out, and silence followed. After a short while, the bell rang again, and Sihyeon immediately picked up his pen, scanning the exam.
His pale hand moved swiftly.
At least for Sihyeon, there was nothing particularly difficult about the test.
“Ughhh.”
Ding—the bell signaling the end of the exam rang, and groans echoed throughout the room. After four consecutive periods of testing, the students collapsed onto their desks. The teacher collected the answer sheets, said “Good work,” and left the classroom.
At that very moment, the students of Class A all rushed toward Sihyeon’s seat.
“……?”
Blinking in confusion at the sudden crowd, Sihyeon wondered what was going on—until Jihye’s voice answered his question.
“Want to check answers, Sihyeon?”
“Ah…”
Only then did he understand. Maybe they’d made their own bets—Haeun and Hamin were already bickering over whether the answer to question 3 was 4 or 5. After checking his test paper, Sihyeon spoke.
“Question 3 has two correct answers.”
“…What?”
“The problem said to pick two. The answers are 4 and 5. You didn’t read it properly.”
He had clearly told them to read the questions carefully first. Looking at the two with exasperation, Sihyeon watched as their test papers slipped from their hands. It didn’t take long for Haeun to look like the sky had fallen and for Hamin’s expression to crumple.
“I’ll give you my paper, so check it yourselves. I might not have gotten everything right, so don’t blindly trust it. I’ll go over Haru hyung’s.”
Still surrounded, Sihyeon handed over his test paper and moved seats. Sitting across from Haru, he watched as Haru, who had been checking his own answers, looked up.
“Did it go well?”
“…Yeah.”
“It wasn’t hard?”
“…Yeah.”
His answers felt oddly uncertain. Thinking they’d know once they graded it, Sihyeon took the paper from him and did a quick check.
Most of the scores were decent.
Except—math.
“Everything’s good except math.”
“…Really?”
“Yeah. Math’s not something you can improve in a short time, so we kind of let it go—but the other subjects are all fine.”
Although it was a bit concerning that his math score barely passed 20, it didn’t seem like they’d make him clean bathrooms over just one weak subject. As a sign of praise, Sihyeon ruffled his hair, and Haru, his tension easing, smiled.
His eyes curved into soft crescents, the corners stretching gently. A faint arc formed at his lips as he smiled.
Sihyeon’s breath hitched for a moment.
“……”
“…What?”
Seeing Sihyeon freeze mid-motion, Haru looked at him with a questioning expression. Meeting his gaze, Sihyeon replied a beat late that it was nothing.
Recently, Haru had seemed a little brighter, but this was the first time he’d smiled. Since meeting him, it was the first time Sihyeon had ever seen him smile. Slowly, he smoothed down Haru’s hair.
His heart stirred.
The feeling of being detached from the world shattered at Haeun’s loud voice.
“Whoa—Geonwoo!”
No way, how is this even possible?!
His voice, filled with astonishment, was so exaggerated it bordered on playful. Curious, Sihyeon turned toward the Four Heavenly Kings—and saw Haeun suddenly hugging Geonwoo. Geonwoo blinked, still wearing his usual indifferent expression while being squeezed. Haeun paid no mind and fussed over him like a doting parent.
“Guys, Geonwoo got 30 points!”
His brain isn’t made of stone after all!
At Haeun’s emotional shout, Sihyeon’s eyes widened. Standing up, he asked what subject it was—Korean. Surprised again, he asked if he guessed, but Geonwoo said he solved it. Sihyeon unconsciously pressed his lips together. He could understand Haeun’s feelings.
“…Nice job.”
“Yeah.”
At the quiet praise, Geonwoo nodded. Haeun’s voice rang out again, saying they should throw a party. Even though Geonwoo was the one who scored 30, the people around him were making a bigger fuss. Looking at Geonwoo’s usual expression, Sihyeon checked his test paper.
It really was 30 points.
“Was the test easy?”
“I solved it.”
“Huh?”
The conversation subtly misaligned. Confused, Sihyeon looked at him, and Geonwoo met his gaze with darker eyes.
“As I was solving it, I heard your voice.”
“…What?”
“I remembered what you taught me.”
So when I solved it like that, those ones were all correct.
His tone was calm, as if he were casually mentioning what he’d had for breakfast. Hearing him speak so evenly, without any change in pitch, Sihyeon blinked.
For a moment, it even seemed like the corners of Geonwoo’s lips had lifted slightly.
As Sihyeon stared blankly, Haeun, still buzzing with excitement, began stuffing things into his bag.
“This won’t do. Geonwoo got 30, so let’s go take commemorative photos today!”
“Suddenly?”
Caught off guard, Sihyeon turned to him in disbelief. Not going out to hang out—but taking photos? It was completely unplanned, something he hadn’t even imagined. As he showed his confusion, Jihye, beside him, clapped her hands.
“Come to think of it, the cherry blossoms are blooming. Since we finished exams, we can go out—want to go see them together?”
“Sounds good!”
“Not bad.”
“If you go, I’ll go too.”
“Why photos all of a sudden?”
The conversation continued without him. The exams were over—shouldn’t they just rest in the dorm? He couldn’t understand why they’d go out of their way to leave. As he visibly disliked the idea, Haru, who had quietly approached him, tapped his shoulder.
Tap, tap.
At the cautious touch, Sihyeon turned his head. Haru was looking at him with familiar eyes.
“…Are you going?”
“……”
Those eyes were familiar.
Like the day they entered the dorm and he said he wanted to watch a movie.
Like the day they went shopping and he handed him a sweatshirt.
The same familiar gaze.
“…I’ll go.”
Reluctantly agreeing, Haru’s expression brightened. A sigh slipped out.
He knew he shouldn’t keep giving in like this—but whenever Haru asked, he somehow always did.
***
“Alright, alright. Smile! One, two, three!”
“……”
Before he knew it, Sihyeon had been dragged straight out without even stopping by the dorm, now standing beneath cherry blossom trees, blinking. Click—the camera shutter sounded, and the photographer lowered the camera, saying, “Got it!”
Sihyeon neither understood nor wanted to understand the situation where they’d even hired a photographer just to take a picture.
“Ah! Sihyeon didn’t smile!”
After checking the photo, Haeun pointed it out, and Sihyeon frowned. As if it wasn’t enough that he agreed to take the photo at all, he was now being criticized. Clicking his tongue in irritation, he watched as Haeun quickly backtracked, joking that he looked good even without smiling. His change in attitude was impressively fast.
How did this even happen?
All eight students of Class A were gathered under the cherry blossoms, taking photos together. This kind of youth-manga-like development—it was too cringeworthy to endure.
As he fidgeted with his fingers awkwardly, his eyes met Hamin’s. There was a clear sense of shared fatigue in his gaze. Without realizing it, the two looked at each other with mutual sympathy.
“That must’ve been rough.”
“You’re seriously saying that?”
Offering belated consolation for someone who had stuck with someone like Haeun for years, Hamin shook his head. As Sihyeon listened to a sigh that sounded like exhaustion itself, Haeun returned, holding eight printed photos, smiling brightly.
“I got the photos printed!”
If you don’t carry it in your wallet, it’s a fine—a fine!
Making a huge fuss, Haeun handed him a photo. Sihyeon accepted it.
Geonwoo expressionless. Hamin looking utterly fed up. Dawoon and Jihye pointing finger guns at each other. Seowoo and Haeun smiling brightly. Haru with his head slightly lowered.
And finally—himself, staring at the camera with complete indifference.
Aside from graduation, it was his first time taking a group photo like this.
As Haeun nagged that he’d watch until he put it in his wallet, Sihyeon reluctantly took out his wallet and looked at the photo with unfamiliar eyes.
Slowly, he slipped it inside. Haeun immediately shouted his usual “Yay!” and threw up a victory V sign.
For a fleeting moment, a thought crossed his mind.
This… isn’t so bad.
Then it faded away.
Sihyeon’s gaze lingered on the photo for a long time.
