GBH 72

During lunch break, Song Yi-heon was unusually not playing soccer but sitting in the classroom, putting their heads together with Kim Yeon-ji. Things didn’t seem to be going well as they sat with a workbook between them, the atmosphere serious. Yi-heon pointed to a section where he had written out a long solution process and said:

“Explain this part slowly.”

Kim Yeon-ji, barely suppressing her about-to-explode temper, tried to repeat the same explanation but couldn’t hold back and snapped:

“Why can’t you understand this? Seriously, why? I’m explaining it for the third time now.”

“I kind of get it, but this takes too long. Isn’t there an easier method? I feel like I almost understand… Explain this part one more time.”

Accustomed to Choi Se-kyung’s brief and clear solutions, Yi-heon wasn’t satisfied with the lengthy explanations in the answer book and kept asking Yeon-ji for solutions. The problem was that unlike Se-kyung, who would explain without complaint no matter how many times he was asked, Yeon-ji was not so patient.

“Are you asking me even though you already know?”

Seeing Yeon-ji’s expression harden, Yi-heon realized his mistake and immediately apologized:

“Hey, I’m sorry… Don’t get mad. Why are you getting so serious? It’s scary. Uh, want to go eat tteokbokki after school?”

Knowing that Yeon-ji loved tteokbokki, he offered it as if it were some ultimate cheat code whenever things got difficult, just like an uncle at family gatherings. What was more annoying was that despite the obvious attempt to gloss things over, both Yeon-ji and himself were swayed by the offer of tteokbokki.

As Yeon-ji wavered between the temptation of tteokbokki and staying angry, someone touched her shoulder. It was Choi Se-kyung, calming her irritation with his gentle voice. He handed over some printed materials.

“Yeon-ji, want to look at this?”

It was a compilation of past exam questions from their high school, sorted by type and compiled by tutors from Daechi-dong. It included many application problems, and solving these alone would guarantee an average score on the final exam.

“Can I really look at this?”

As Yeon-ji flipped through the pages, exclaiming in admiration at the readable layout, even Yi-heon, who had been ignoring Se-kyung, sneaked a peek at the materials.

“You should work hard since your high school grades are most heavily reflected when applying for early admissions.”

Those important grades that he had thoroughly messed up during the midterms… Although it was already too late, Yi-heon wanted to make up for it even a little in the final exams and couldn’t take his eyes off the materials. Meanwhile, Yeon-ji, who had been hesitant about accepting such valuable materials for free, realized there were two copies.

“Oh?”

Only then did Yeon-ji realize that Se-kyung hadn’t just given her the materials, but had used her as a messenger to give them to Song Yi-heon.

Keeping one copy for herself and sliding the other towards Yi-heon, Yeon-ji rolled up the papers into a cylinder and covered her mouth. She rolled her eyes around and softly suggested:

“I know it’s not my place to interfere, but… why don’t you two make up?”

“We didn’t fight.”

Yi-heon responded gruffly, and Se-kyung agreed.

“Yeah, we didn’t fight.”

“Right, to be precise, Yi-heon is avoiding Se-kyung.”

Yeon-ji grumbled. Yi-heon had been taking classmates to the school store one by one during breaks to avoid Se-kyung, and she was the main victim. Even for lunch, Yi-heon would go eat with Yeon-ji’s group, leaving Se-kyung to eat with the other boys in class.

It was quite uncomfortable being caught between two people who used to be best friends in the same class. Se-kyung spoke to the disgruntled Yeon-ji, who had her arms crossed, with particular apology in his voice:

“No, it’s my fault. I did something to Yi-heon-“

Yi-heon, who had been glancing sideways, caught sight of Se-kyung’s kind smile that exuded innocence. That fox-like guy was particularly kind when he had some other motive. Fearing that Se-kyung might mention the kiss to Kim Yeon-ji, Yi-heon quickly lunged forward to cover his mouth.

Kim Yeon-ji, who had quietly pushed her chair back, looked alternately at Yi-heon, who had his eyes wide open fiercely, and Se-kyung, who hadn’t lost his smile.

“You, be quiet.”

“……”

“You’re getting cocky because I’ve been treating you nicely.”

Se-kyung took Yi-heon’s hand and lowered it. He held it to prevent Yi-heon from pulling away and tugged. Supporting the pulled Yi-heon, Se-kyung whispered in his ear:

“If you knew how anxious I am, you couldn’t say such things.”

* * *

The second-floor room of the detached house remained lit like a firefly until dawn. Song Yi-heon, studying with the desk lamp on, had been smoothly solving past final exam questions until he got stuck on one problem and couldn’t make any progress since then.

“Why is this so difficult……”

Normally, he would have asked Se-kyung long ago about a problem he couldn’t solve, rather than wasting time stuck on it. But there was no need to ask. If Se-kyung had been sitting next to him while studying, the perceptive Choi Se-kyung would have given hints on his own.

It had seemed so natural then, but now that he was gone, why did the empty space feel so large?

His phone vibrated. Yi-heon hastily pushed his chair back and grabbed his phone. There was no playing hard to get in his dictionary; as soon as he confirmed the sender was Choi Se-kyung, he saw a message bubble floating with just a file name, without Se-kyung’s usual friendly greeting.

[Mock Exam Theory Summary Fill-in-the-Blanks Update.zip]

“…Is he not sleeping?”

If he could just solve this one problem. If he could just solve this problem, he could finish his study quota and sleep comfortably. Yi-heon, conflicted, took a picture of the troublesome problem and sent it, just in case. As he tapped his index finger on the desk in time with the second hand, tensely waiting, the phone vibrated, and he checked it as quickly as a startled chicken flapping its wings.

“Wow…!”

Choi Se-kyung had solved the problem and sent a picture of the solution process. It was the concise and easy explanation Yi-heon had wanted. Although not as good as having it explained in person, after struggling alone for days, even this felt like a godsend.

Taking advantage of the momentum, he sent pictures of all the problems he couldn’t solve and had marked with stars. After some intervals, photos of solutions written in a notebook were sent, making his phone buzz continuously. Song Yi-heon excitedly copied down the solutions. He felt completely relieved, as if a painful tooth had been pulled out.

As they exchanged unknown problems and solutions, it was already 2 AM. Thinking he had solved all the problems he didn’t know, Yi-heon was about to ask if Se-kyung wasn’t going to sleep, but stopped his fingers, feeling it was too personal a question. Before, he would have asked without hesitation, but since learning of Se-kyung’s feelings, it was difficult to treat him as casually as before. However, after asking so many questions, it didn’t seem right to just end the conversation. While hesitating, Se-kyung sent a message.

[Good night]

Though he had never struggled to know how to reply to Choi Se-kyung before, this time he wracked his brains to send a neutral response.

[You too, sleep well]

“This is exhausting…”

Song Yi-heon slumped in his chair as if melting. His nerves, on edge because of Choi Se-kyung, quickly reminded him of what had happened at school. He was completely in the dark about what Se-kyung meant by being anxious.

Does he know something?

“No way…”

He denied it, thinking it was absurd. Even the perceptive Choi Se-kyung couldn’t possibly know about a soul swap. Song Yi-heon was certain of this, not knowing what conversation had taken place between Hong Jaemin and Choi Se-kyung on the rainy sports field.

His tired, closing eyes were enveloped by a pleasant sense of relaxation. Having solved all the problems that had been troubling him, and feeling as if he had briefly returned to the time when he and Choi Se-kyung studied together comfortably, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. His eyes, checking his phone to see if any more messages would come, slowly closed.

* * *

As Se-kyung came down the stairs after finishing his preparations for school, he held an elegantly wrapped gift box in his hand. In the living room visible from the stairs, the recently awoken couple sat leaning on each other’s shoulders, flipping through the itinerary for their Egypt trip departing in the afternoon.

When Se-kyung made his presence known near the sofa, the couple, who had been exchanging meaningful glances while rubbing their foreheads together in an intimate atmosphere, jumped apart as if burned. Pretending not to notice their familiar display of affection, Se-kyung handed over the gift he had prepared.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Ahem, hmm. Thank you.”

Choi Myeonghyeon accepted it, clearing his throat in embarrassment. Today was the couple’s wedding anniversary, and it was also the day they were leaving for a trip to commemorate their fateful meeting during a backpacking trip in their college days, as they had married for love. The anniversary trip was their tradition, which they kept without fail even if it meant just a short domestic trip due to busy schedules.

Despite it being an annual trip, Se-kyung’s mother worriedly instructed:

“If anything happens, call right away. I’ve told Secretary Kim too, so contact him.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not a child anymore.”

When Se-kyung was younger, he used to accompany them on trips, but as he grew older, he stopped going. There were live-in employees at home, and relatives living nearby, so there were many people to look after Se-kyung. Above all, they had always left without worry, trusting their ever-calm son, but recently, seeing their child coming home with various injuries, big and small, the parents’ eyes were filled with concern. In this scene of an ordinary family, Choi Myeonghyeon too was genuinely worried about his son.

After saying goodbye to his parents who would be at the airport in the afternoon, Se-kyung came down to the garage. The young driver, who had been circling the garage like a restless dog, opened the back seat door as soon as he saw Se-kyung.

“Young master, you’re here.”

His form of address had already been upgraded from “Student Se-kyung” to “Young master.” Se-kyung didn’t demand respect from employees, but he also didn’t lower himself unnecessarily. Without bothering to correct the title, he got into the car. The driver, who had run around the bonnet, took out a white envelope from the glove compartment. As he reached out to hand it to Se-kyung in the back seat, he seemed reluctant to let go, not releasing his grip on the envelope. The envelope, pulled from both sides, crumpled.

“Whose DNA did you test…”

“How far did you go with your girlfriend?”

“……”

The young driver bit his lip. Whatever he had done during his off-hours, driving a car worth more than his annual salary and laying his girlfriend down on the reclined passenger seat, had to remain a lifelong secret. He loosened his grip on the envelope.

The problem was the excessive use of fabric deodorizer in the car. Sprayed to the point of causing a headache, the fabric deodorizer failed to hide the scent of women’s perfume and only increased the sense of discomfort and suspicion. If the scent of women’s perfume had been left as it was, they might have calmly assumed that Se-kyung’s mother or her secretaries had borrowed the car, but the desperate attempt to hide the perfume scent implied that the driver had something to conceal.

If a young man tries to hide women’s perfume, there could only be one reason. All Se-kyung had done was ask the driver if he had a girlfriend and bluff that he knew everything that had happened in the car.

As the driver, who had jumped to conclusions, begged Se-kyung not to tell Choi Myeonghyeon, Se-kyung soothed him gently.

‘It’s okay. I won’t tell Father.’

Just as the driver was about to feel relieved, thinking Se-kyung was indeed an exemplary and kind student,

‘However.’

Se-kyung added, as if holding out a knife,

‘We should each have a secret, so you won’t feel anxious.’

The driver, hired to monitor Choi Se-kyung, now found himself about to enter into a secret deal with Se-kyung. However, contrary to his concerns, Se-kyung’s condition was simply to receive mail for him. The DNA test results from a genetic testing lab, sent to the young driver’s home address, thus made their way into Se-kyung’s hands without Choi Myeonghyeon’s knowledge.

“Let’s go.”

At Se-kyung’s glance, the car smoothly started. Seeing the tense driver focusing only on the road ahead, Se-kyung opened the envelope.

He didn’t expect the young driver to keep the secret from Choi Myeonghyeon. Even delaying the time it would reach Choi Myeonghyeon’s ears would be a success. Anyway, Choi Myeonghyeon wouldn’t be able to grasp the true meaning of this DNA test. Since last winter break, Se-kyung had been the only one to read something different in Song Yi-heon.

The two result sheets in the envelope were the same.

99.99%

Song Yi-heon with his short haircut was indeed the biological child of the chairman and Song Minseo. He was the real Song Yi-heon.

If circumstantial evidence mainly raises suspicion, physical evidence solidifies certainty.

The Song Yi-heon who had walked with him on the night beach in Gangneung was the same boy who had come to Se-kyung’s house on that winter day, clumsily trying to blackmail him. He was the very Song Yi-heon that Se-kyung had been searching for all winter.