LA0S | Chapter 6

“Yeah, at lunch we’re playing soccer against Class 3, and those cheaters are bringing their soccer club members.”

The nameless guy started ranting about how sneaky Class 3 was. Even though his tone seemed a bit harsh, it was filled with playfulness and wasn’t annoying.

“That’s why we need people who are good at running. I know you’re fast.”

“How do you know that?”

“I saw your time in PE class… Wait, you don’t know who I am?”

“Who are you?”

“What, really? You don’t know?”

He seemed genuinely shocked, muttering loud enough for others to hear, “Wow, we’ve started the semester and you still don’t know? That’s disappointing.”

Is he someone famous? The student council president, maybe? Unsure of how to respond, Lee Jinha stayed silent while the guy propped his arm on Jinha’s shoulder.

“I’m hurt, so let’s play soccer to make up for it.”

His broad smile while talking about being hurt seemed ludicrous.

“I don’t want to. It’s bothersome.”

Sleep was more important than soccer, especially since playing meant he’d have to keep running and would get hungry faster.

“If we win, I’ll buy you burgers. Not from the school canteen, but a proper franchise.”

“…How many?”

Jinha asked slowly. If food was involved, it changed things. He could sleep during break times, but filling his stomach was about timing.

Seeing Jinha’s expression change, the guy leaned in closer, a wave of heat emanating from him as if he’d been running in the halls. A faint scent of sweat drifted around, surprisingly not unpleasant. He whispered in Jinha’s ear as if sharing a grand secret.

“As many as you want.”

“Don’t change your story later.”

“Of course not. What do you take me for? Come out to the field by 12:10 PM. Our class will gather at the right-side stands.”

Lunch started at 12 PM, and he was giving them just 10 minutes to gather. For eighteen-year-old boys, ten minutes was more than enough to scarf down a school meal and clear three packs of bread.

“See you there.”

“Hey.”

Jinha called out to him as he was about to turn away, patting his shoulder. The guy just grinned without making a sound.

“What’s your name?”

The guy blinked dumbly before bursting into laughter. Ahahaha. His clear, loud laughter drew the attention of everyone around. He wiped the corners of his eyes after a good laugh.

“Man, you’re really funny.”

“I’m not trying to be. So, what’s your name?”

“Me? Kim Chayoung.”

“Not having one? You like those, don’t you?”

Jinha forcibly erased the youthful face that surfaced in his mind. There was no point dwelling on meaningless things.

“I don’t like them anymore. I don’t need to take anything from you.”

He had actually had one today but responded as if he hadn’t. Kim Chayoung did not insist further and just drank his own beverage. His habit of downing drinks in one go hadn’t changed over the years.

“Right. The reason I’ve been ‘obsessively’ calling you here.”

Chayoung said the word ‘obsessive’ with a particular emphasis, a faint smile lingering in his voice.

Jinha felt his nerves tingle. Despite the mixed noises in the lounge, Chayoung’s voice distinctly cut through.

Suddenly, Jinha remembered the last time they met. Was he trying to bring up that day’s events? What should I respond if he asks why I did it? What about him, why did he do it? How ridiculous must I have looked? Did you find it funny to see me clueless about what to do, or did you pity me? So then you—

“My mind’s been on the contest.”

“Ah…”

The tension seemed pointless now.

The contest. Right, that was something. A wave of unexpected emptiness washed over him. What had he been hoping Chayoung would say? Exhaustion weighed down his shoulders suddenly.

“You know, starting early on these things usually gives you an edge…”

“Hey, Kim Chayoung.”

Chayoung, who had been talking, felt Jinha’s eyes on him.

“I don’t want to, and I won’t work with you.”

Saying he didn’t want to seemed less resolute than saying he wouldn’t. From the moment he learned that Chayoung was Shin Youngmin’s replacement, his feelings had remained unchanged.

“Why?”

“Why do you even ask?”

A ridiculous feeling washed over him again. Isn’t he repulsed by me? Well, you’d have to be pretty thick-skinned to pretend to date someone you don’t like.

“I don’t know what Youngmin told you, but I’m really good at drawing. Better than most seniors in our department.”

“Hey, you were in science back in high school. Since when do you draw?”

He had been good at drawing even in high school, but his major was science.

“You were in the science stream too, right? I was shocked when I heard you went to the Creative Writing department.”

Both had been silent, striking at each other’s weaknesses.

Kim Chayoung and Lee Jinha, both were from the science stream in high school. They had planned to go to engineering college. Jinha chose it purely because of Chayoung, wanting to be at the same school, to stay close. His first love was heavy and frightening enough to dictate his career path.

Chayoung probably had no idea.

“Regardless of the past, now you’re in Creative Writing, and I’m in Art. Both are great majors for the contest.”

“So?”

Jinha was convinced that nothing Chayoung could say would change his mind. He sighed, almost like resignation, and Chayoung pulled out a document from his bag.

“A contract. You know Youngmin and I had a contract.”

“And?”

“Since the participant changed, we need to rewrite it. Take a look.”

Chayoung was absurd. Who said I’d work with him? His unwarranted confidence was the same as ever.

Chayoung pulled a paper from the folder and set it down next to an unopened Coolpis. Jinha’s gaze naturally followed.

[Collaboration Agreement for the Contest]

It was similar to the original, but with some changes.
2. The prize money, after taxes, will be split 8 to 2, with Lee Jinha receiving 8 and Kim Chayoung 2.

“8 to 2?”

That part especially stood out.

The ratio was absurd, even more so than with Youngmin.

“That should be enough to get your agreement. What do you think? Like it?”

“…The ratio doesn’t matter. I don’t like working with you. I came here to make sure there’s no more discomfort. To make things clear.”

Jinha muttered, focusing on the name Kim Chayoung written on the paper. He couldn’t guess what expression Chayoung was making now. He didn’t want to know anymore.

“If there’s nothing more, I’m leaving. Don’t come to our classroom anymore. I’ve made myself clear.”

He stood up without even touching the Coolpis.

Maybe I should take on another tutoring job. Should I post it on a job site? If I price it low compared to the market rate, there might be demand. Or maybe I should subtly ask the parents of the kids I currently teach.

“Lee Jinha. I’m not done talking. Sit down.”

A low, almost warning tone came from behind him.

Who is he to tell me to sit or stand? Jinha scoffed as he started walking away.

“Always running away like a dog without a tail. How have you not changed at all after four years?”

Just like then. His added comment was more of a murmur, barely reaching Jinha.

“What?”

Jinha stopped dead in his tracks. Running away like a dog? Did he hear that right?

He turned his head slightly without moving from his spot. A man was smirking as if the comment about running away was just a jest, his expression now refreshingly cheerful.

“If I’m a dog with a tail, what does that make you?”

“I’ll give you all the prize money. Whether it’s a consolation or the grand prize, it’s all yours.”

Instead of answering, Chayoung changed the topic.

If it was a strategy to divert the conversation, it was successful. Even Jinha had to be shocked by such terms. Preparing for the contest would take at least six months, if not more. He was practically offering to work for free for half a year. Why would Chayoung insist on this?

“Titles from contests are what matter to me. It’s another line to add to my portfolio and resume.”

Ah, right. Kim Chayoung used to live lavishly, the very picture of a rich young master, spending money freely. Jinha had owed him a lot back in high school. Of course, if he had known it would come back to haunt him, he wouldn’t have accepted the help in the first place.

“You know better than anyone that this isn’t an opportunity that comes often.”

Jinha wanted to ignore him, but the offer Chayoung made was too compelling.

Pride or money? After a moment’s hesitation, he returned to his seat. Pride doesn’t pay the bills, as he had long since realized. Chayoung, expected to be smirking, was actually wearing a serious expression as he pulled out a notebook.

“If you’re still unsure, look at this too.”

He slid the notebook across the table. What now? Keeping his skepticism, Jinha opened the notebook.

“My drawings, my art.”

The white, unlined pages of the notebook were filled with Kim Chayoung’s drawings: a medieval knight in armor wielding a sword, a woman swirling in a frilly dress, a boy and a girl in school uniforms looking at each other, a toddler in a bundle watching chicks while squatting. Characters from different eras and genders seemed to come alive.

Honestly, Jinha was surprised. Had Kim Chayoung always been this good at drawing? He had thought him decent before, but now he seemed to have reached a whole new level. Had he undergone some intensive training in secret?

“And these are the colored ones.”

This time, he placed a tablet down. Unlike the pencil sketches, these were fully colored. The frames divided and included backgrounds and sound effects, comparable in quality to the webtoons he saw on platforms.

Recalling Shin Youngmin’s words about Chayoung being the best in their department and Yoon Sejin entering as the top student, it all came together.

Offering all the prize money and providing this level of artwork. Honestly, if the story was well-crafted, winning a prize was almost a given. It would be foolish not to accept.