11) Chapter 3. That's not it, actually...! (3)
Anyway, the fortunate thing was that Soi’s and my interests aligned.
I wanted to get close to Chae‑yi for personal reasons.
In a way different from the original story. I didn’t want Chae‑yi to simply rely on me—I wanted us to be close friends, and if I had to define it, I hoped she’d become one of those inseparable buddies who always hang out together.
Not just because she was one of the two kids Seo Rua dragged around in the original, but because she was my childhood friend.
“Ugh, I can’t stand this!”
And for Soi, it was a matter of pride.
She had never once failed to become friends with someone she met for the first time—she was a friend collector!
At first, having someone like Soi was reassuring.
But I quickly realized it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
“H‑Here. Want some?”
“Why would I?”
No matter what snacks I brought her, Chae‑yi always rejected them coldly.
She used to love sweets when we were little.
Isn’t she still too young for her tastes to have changed?
Even when I bought the snacks she liked most, she didn’t budge.
Thinking about it, maybe it was obvious. Back at the orphanage, we only ate the snacks the teachers bought or the donated ones, so the variety was limited.
Now that she’s been adopted into a hero’s household, she can probably eat whatever snacks she wants.
“Chae‑yi, want to hang out after school?”
“I don’t have time.”
Soi, who had asked with a bright smile, froze stiff at her reply.
Her eyebrows twitched. It was almost cartoonish.
The book open on Chae‑yi’s desk was definitely not something an elementary schooler would normally study. I don’t know what kind of family adopted her, but they must care a lot about grades.
If so, it made sense she had no time after school because of tutoring or cram school.
And honestly, Soi’s approach might have been part of the problem.
Soi tended to talk to kids assuming they would naturally follow along with whatever she said.
Because that’s how it had always been.
She had no idea how to deal with someone who didn’t like her from the start!
And there was another problem—
“What’s with her?”
“Why is she ignoring Soi?”
“She could at least say it nicer.”
“Poor Rua…”
Exactly.
The more Chae‑yi rejected us, the more her reputation plummeted among the other kids.
Soi was the most popular kid in our grade—everyone knew her, and she even had friends in other grades.
And I was the younger sibling who always stuck by her side. People said I was pretty, smart, and had a good personality.
So rejecting the two of us and making us sad was visibly ruining Chae‑yi’s reputation.
“…Soi, let’s stop.”
Before her reputation dropped so low that she ended up with no friends at all, I finally said that to Soi.
“Huh? Why? No way. She’s almost there.”
Soi… you really need to learn how to read the room…
Then again, maybe heroes shouldn’t be too sensitive to others’ moods. Maybe that’s why Chae‑yi turned out like this.
But I didn’t want to ruin her school life.
If not now, there would be chances later at the academy.
Her personality was bound to turn out that way anyway, right? I didn’t know why, but I figured I could aim for that time.
“Uuugh…”
But my timid‑sounding suggestion only seemed to ignite Soi’s stubbornness.
“B‑But Soi, if we keep doing this…”
When I reluctantly explained my thoughts, Soi hummed and fell into brief thought. She didn’t look very convinced, but—
“Okay. Got it. Rua’s smart, after all.”
…At least she answered that way.
She seemed to understand for a slightly different reason than I intended, but digging deeper felt unnecessary, so I let it go.
But while I was relieved, Soi had another idea.
“Then we just have to lure her somewhere no one else sees.”
Where did she even learn the word “lure”? Shorts? Her parents were strict, but they were oddly lenient about how she played. I figured I could manage her to some extent.
…Well, that didn’t matter right now.
Her idea itself wasn’t bad.
“Somewhere no one sees?”
“Yep.”
Soi giggled with a mischievous air. She seemed to find this fun.
Even though she’d been frustrated earlier, she still enjoyed making new friends.
*
We were in fourth grade—upper grades, you could say.
And upper graders didn’t need adults to walk them to school anymore.
We used to ride in a car in first and second grade, but our school wasn’t that far. Even at our pace, it was only a 20‑minute walk.
Even though we lived in an expensive residential area, the school felt close—just down the hill and across a big road.
Since Soi and I always walked together, we had time to follow someone after school.
“What if she gets picked up by car?”
“Then nothing we can do!”
A very decisive answer.
Following Soi’s plan, we rushed out of the building as soon as school ended.
Luckily, other classes were just starting to come out, so by running, we managed to be the first outside.
We waited near the school gate until—
“Oh, there.”
We spotted the unmistakable pink hair and followed from a distance.
“See? She’s not getting in a car.”
“Y‑Yeah.”
“Listening to me never hurts, right?”
Her smug expression annoyed me, but since her plan was working, I had nothing to say.
We weren’t even hiding—just standing by the gate.
Well, if she didn’t turn our way, she wouldn’t notice us anyway…
As we followed her, Soi’s grip on my hand tightened.
“There.”
There were barely any kids left around Chae‑yi.
Kids left school in groups but split up on the way home.
And Chae‑yi had been alone from the moment she walked out.
For reference, we were already well‑known at school, so we greeted tons of kids on the way.
But she never looked back once. Was she really uninterested in other kids, or was she forcing herself to ignore them?
Having no friends is incredibly lonely. I knew that from my previous life.
Especially at a young age—nothing hurts more.
So surely, Chae‑yi must also—
“Let’s go.”
After confirming no one else was around to greet us, Soi pulled my hand.
“Chae‑yi!”
At Soi’s loud call, Chae‑yi flinched violently.
She turned around, eyes wide.
“Let’s hang out!”
Without hesitation, Soi hooked her arm around Chae‑yi’s.
“W‑What?”
“Huh? School’s over.”
“Huh?”
“So we should play.”
“H‑Huh?”
Before she could reject us like before, Soi yanked her toward us.
“Ice cream!”
“Huh?”
This time, I was the one startled.
“Let’s go get ice cream!”
Pure, context‑less child energy.
Chae‑yi looked at me in confusion, but I had nothing to say.
Honestly, I was a little overwhelmed too.
This was partly my fault, but still.
Anyway.
Holding my hand with one hand and clinging to Chae‑yi with the other, Soi dragged us toward the ice cream shop.
*
When I was little, “ice cream” usually meant the kind sold at convenience stores or soft‑serve from fast‑food places.
Anything else was too expensive.
I’d almost never bought ice cream from a franchise shop like this.
But Soi did—because she had money.
I could do it too, but I never really had the chance. Whenever we came to places like this, Soi always chose the flavors and paid before I could do anything.
Not that it mattered—my money was basically her parents’ money anyway.
“….”
And the look on Chae‑yi’s face as she stared at the ice cream—
It reminded me of the orphanage days.
Was she not eating well at home? That made no sense. If her adoptive parents were heroes, they wouldn’t dare mistreat her under public scrutiny.
And she didn’t look underfed. She looked healthier than she ever did at the orphanage.
Gulp.
She swallowed unconsciously, then gasped in embarrassment.
Her eyes sharpened.
“I‑If you buy something like this…”
She tried to say something but trailed off.
Kids really were kids.
I scooped a spoonful of strawberry ice cream.
And held it out toward her—
“Ah!?”
—only for Soi to gasp dramatically beside me.
She looked at me as if betrayed.
As if saying, “You never do that for me!”
Which was unfair.
Because she never gave me the chance. Whenever we came here, she was the one stuffing food into my mouth.
“Hm…”
After a moment of thought, I turned the spoon toward Soi.
“Ah…”
Chae‑yi let out a pitiful sound, so I hesitated.
“Ang.”
But Soi never missed such opportunities. Before I could move the spoon again, she opened her mouth and ate it.
“Ah…”
Chae‑yi’s expression crumbled again.
“Here, let’s eat, let’s eat.”
Cheered up after one bite, Soi grabbed another spoon and handed it to Chae‑yi.
“Huh? Huh?”
Still malfunctioning since we entered the shop, Chae‑yi accepted it without thinking.
“If you’re slow, there won’t be any left.”
Soi said that, then took a huge bite with sparkling eyes.
“Haa…”
Her face melted in bliss.
Chae‑yi looked at me as if demanding an explanation, but there was nothing to explain.
When ice cream is in front of you, explanations don’t matter. Ice cream exists to be eaten.
I took a big spoonful myself, and after watching me, Chae‑yi narrowed her eyes again.
Then, as if she refused to lose, she scooped a big spoonful and ate it.
“Haa…!”
And her face melted just like Soi’s.
“Good, right?”
“Ugh.”
She didn’t want to admit it.
She glared at Soi once.
Then took another big bite.
Soi and I exchanged glances.
Soi grinned.
As if to say, “See? I was right.”
And she lifted her chin proudly, as always.
But what could I say?
It really worked.
When I looked back, Chae‑yi was staring blankly at us before snapping out of it.
The three of us dug into the ice cream.
We didn’t talk at all.
But that was enough for now.
*
The unexpected happened when we were almost done with the ice cream.
Chae‑yi’s phone vibrated.
Startled, she checked it—and her face went pale.
She answered quickly.
“…Yes.”
Before she could speak, a loud voice came through the phone. I couldn’t hear the words clearly, but the tone alone told me the person was furious.
It sounded like an adult.
Soi and I exchanged uneasy glances.
We were in trouble.
It reminded me of when we broke something at home—we always looked at each other like this.
Except this time, the atmosphere was much more serious.
“…Yes. Yes. We’re at…”
She explained where we were.
Then hung up, shoulders drooping.
Soi and I felt like criminals—no, we basically were—so we watched her nervously.
“I… I have to go.”
She stood up.
She didn’t even have the energy to be angry at us. She just bowed her head slightly and grabbed her bag.
Soi and I hurried to stand as well. Soi quickly put the empty cup on the tray and returned to her side.
But the mood was too heavy to speak. We quietly followed her out.
And then, unbelievably fast, a car pulled up in front of the shop.
A huge black foreign sedan—completely different from Aunt Yujin and Uncle Dohyun’s domestic car. The kind of car that looked expensive enough to buy a house.
The back door swung open, and a woman slightly older than Aunt Yujin stepped out.
“Chae‑yi, you—”
She began scolding her sternly—
“Ah!”
—when Soi suddenly gasped.
“Cheong Hwirin! It’s Cheong Hwirin!”
Her shout startled me.
“H‑Hello!”
Soi immediately bowed deeply, and the woman blinked, her anger evaporating.
“…Oh my, Soi?”
The woman—called Cheong Hwirin—asked in a suddenly gentle voice.
Cheong Hwirin.
Of course I knew her. She was a famous hero. Not as famous as Auntie Yujin, but still widely known.
Let me think… In this world, there was a Hero Association, and within it, elite subgroups. Auntie Yujin belonged to one of the most prestigious ones.
Cheong Hwirin wasn’t at that level.
But she was a beautiful swordswoman who wielded a blue‑flaming blade. I’d seen her on TV.
And Cheong Hwirin wasn’t her real name—just like Aunt Yujin’s “Meteor,” it was a hero alias.
“Oh, you know me?” Soi asked with sparkling eyes.
“Of course. We met once before. You were too young to remember.”
Then she looked at me.
“H‑Hello…”
I greeted nervously. She looked between us and smiled brightly.
“I see. So our Chae‑yi made friends.”
“….”
Chae‑yi lowered her head.
I glanced at her—she didn’t look embarrassed. More like troubled.
“You should’ve told me your friend was Soi. I would’ve understood.”
Cheong Hwirin bent slightly to meet Soi’s eyes.
“Please take good care of our Chae‑yi.”
“Yes, of course!”
Soi beamed at me triumphantly.
And the thought that crossed my mind was—
Hmm… I don’t think this is something to celebrate.
Honestly, wasn’t she being way too obvious?