Ch.29Taking Off Your Glasses Doesn’t Exactly Make You a Hottie (4)

After being possessed by Ban Do-young, I felt this was the week I’d wasted most meaninglessly.

Since evening self-study sessions began, days had passed without any proper conversation between me and that guy Do Ha-min.

I tossed my uniform and stockings onto the chair and threw myself onto the bed.

Despite jumping onto a mattress advertised as “Unwavering Comfort,” it failed to fix my unsettled mood.

“Damn it, if I were that bastard Do Ha-min, I would’ve already confessed.”

Lying on the bed,

I muttered meaningless words to myself while looking at Miss Ban Do-young’s reflection in the mirror next to the vanity.

“Seriously, the world’s most beautiful girl asks him to go to the optician’s first, basically asking him on a date, and he rejects it because of some stupid evening study session? Is your current grades more important than your future wife? Why is this kid so incapable of thinking about his future!”

It had been several days since Do Ha-min rejected my proposal,

yet I still couldn’t get over my frustration about it.

It felt like falling off a bicycle with training wheels.

Like I had thoroughly prepared strategies against a mid-boss that others call a “power level measurer” in a game, yet still got completely destroyed.

At first, I thought he would fall for me easily.

I didn’t even doubt it.

We’ve already watched movies together, eaten meals, and even exchanged bodily fluids.

Even if we didn’t have those past connections,

objectively speaking, the choice should have been obvious.

Don’t you think?

‘Date at the optician’s with the world’s most beautiful girl VS Just doing evening self-study.’

This isn’t what you’d call a balance game.

It’s not even something you need to weigh.

If this were a weighing decision, it would be like saying “Aura, just kill yourself.”

“You could skip just one day, right? Even teachers would forgive you for going to change your glasses if you explained.”

The mirror reflected Ban Do-young’s furrowed brow, full of wrinkles from her frown.

Yet, she didn’t look aged or less attractive at all.

Just as drawing lines on a pumpkin doesn’t make it a watermelon,

erasing the stripes from a watermelon doesn’t make it a pumpkin.

She was disgustingly pretty. Lucky girl.

Ah, if only I had possessed Do Ha-min instead,

I would have conquered her immediately with mature adult techniques and manners.

Being on the opposite side was proving quite difficult.

“What’s the problem? With this face and all the affection I’ve built up, he should be the one throwing himself at me. It’s a problem that I keep spoon-feeding him, and now he’s even kicking away the spoon I’m offering.”

Is my strategy wrong?

Or is it that strategies conceived by a man’s mind

don’t work well on male protagonists in pure youth romance stories?

No, that can’t be right, absolutely not.

If all methods of raising affection that can be devised by a man’s mind are useless,

that means I’ll have to live as this world’s Ban Do-young for the rest of my life.

“What the hell, you said there’s no drift… only pure romance! Did you lie to me?”

After the gym storage incident between the class president and Do Ha-min,

my trust in “Half of Half” began to crumble—the story that supposedly had no sweet potatoes, no ex-boyfriend Golden Sun, and no childhood friend who returned from studying abroad.

What if someone else in this story becomes closer to the protagonist Do Ha-min?

Would the ending of this story change in a different way?

Perhaps if I act differently from what happened in the original work,

could the ending of this story, which supposedly only has a pure romance ending, progress differently?

If this world’s story runs toward a different conclusion than the original,

and at some point I become unable to prevent it,

What would happen to me then, to the original Ban Do-young?

Whenever I thought about this, my mind went dark.

“Am I really going to live as a beauty forever?”

The setting where Do Ha-min is such a study bug that he prioritizes his studies over spending time with Ban Do-young was now irreversible.

That’s probably why he chose his studies over my proposal.

Then, where else besides class should I create points of contact with him?

Is there even room for the main heroine to get involved with the male protagonist in a manga where he’s always doing evening self-study?

How exactly does the flow of the original “Half of Half” world work?

I couldn’t possibly follow it properly when I haven’t even properly sampled the first episode.

“Damn it! It’s so frustrating to be possessed by the heroine who has to flirt with a protagonist who lives two hours away from school and still diligently attends evening study sessions!”

-Thud!

When I stretched my leg and kicked the wardrobe in frustration,

-Crash!

A bamboo sword and navy-colored uniform that had been stuffed inside the wardrobe tumbled out.

“…A bamboo sword?”

After seeing the fallen bamboo sword, I noticed various trophies and medals hanging on the drawer next to the wardrobe.

They were all awards that the past Ban Do-young had received for her excellent performance in kendo competitions.

“Maybe if I get closer to the original Ban Do-young, I’ll see a way forward.”

As if entranced, I picked up the uniform and bamboo sword that had fallen from the wardrobe.

**

The Do-young family had been a harmonious family of five.

But now, the reliable eldest son was in the military,

and the adorable youngest daughter, precious beyond words, had gone abroad to study kendo.

On top of that, even the wife had joined the youngest on her study abroad journey.

Of course, he secretly rejoiced when his wife boarded the plane with their youngest,

but now the family was scattered in different directions.

From five to four, then from four to two,

naturally, as the time apart grew longer, an awkward atmosphere developed.

The living room sofa that had felt so cramped with five people

now seemed so spacious with just two remaining.

Even after phone calls, he still missed their voices,

and looking at photos in frames, he longed for their faces.

But what could he do?

He had to keep working hard for the family that would reunite someday.

Even if he was left alone with his second daughter, who was in the sensitive, turbulent period of adolescence.

“Dad’s home. Just finished driving the 3 o’clock class students.”

It was Friday evening.

Do-young’s father bypassed the kendo dojo on the first floor,

climbed the stairs to the second floor, and opened the front door to enter the living room.

The Ban family home had the second and third floors as their living space,

while the first floor and basement were used as “Ban’s Kendo Dojo” operated by Do-young’s family.

“What should we have for dinner? I saw some meat for japchae in the freezer, shall we stir-fry that?”

Since their home was in the same building, he could freely move between floors using the stairs,

and so, in the evening, Do-che would come home, have a light meal, and go back down to teach the evening class.

Though his expressions of love toward his children were rough and he tended to be relatively strict,

he was a father who tried in his own way to spend more time with his daughter.

“Huh? Is Ban Do-young not home? School should have ended a while ago. Evening self-study… there’s no way this girl would have signed up for that.”

It was well past the time school had ended,

but for some reason, there wasn’t a single sign of life in the house.

Maybe she came home, said she was sleepy, and collapsed on the bed without even changing her clothes?

That would be just like Do-young. Thinking this, he went upstairs and opened the door to her room,

but sure enough, there was no sign of Do-young in the room.

“I thought she’d be whining about being hungry, but where has this kid gone?”

The backpack collapsed in front of the door and the uniform shirt and stockings carelessly thrown on the chair.

The circumstances suggested she had definitely come home once.

-Thud!

That’s when it happened.

From the first-floor kendo dojo came the sound of movement and striking.

It was the sound of someone fiercely striking the training tire with a bamboo sword.

It was strange.

During the evening hours when he was away, there was no one to watch over the dojo, so he had temporarily locked it.

Even if there were people scheduled for evening classes, they couldn’t use the dojo at this time, still well before classes were set to begin.

Except for the Ban family members who had keys to the kendo dojo.

“Could it be…?”

With a glimmer of hope, he went down to the dojo on the first floor.

With each step down the stairs,

the sound of feet pounding on the dojo mat and the crisp impact of the bamboo sword grew louder.

“Who’s in the dojo right now?”

Ban Do-che used his dojo key from his pocket to open the door and went inside.

-Thud!

A clear, resonant footwork that pierced the ears,

-Tak!

The striking sound when swiftly hitting the tire part of the training stand with disciplined movements.

Even by the standards of the dojo master Ban Do-che, he could sense that whoever was wielding the bamboo sword in the dojo now was no ordinary practitioner.

“Who on earth…”

“Manhe!”

“…Huh?”

“Shiranui! Lion’s Song! Levi Slash!”

“…”

There was Do-young in uniform, swinging the bamboo sword while spouting strange technique names, despite her disciplined movements, quick hands, and impeccable posture.

“Hyah, Kamusari!”

“Stop it, you brat.”

-Bonk

A bamboo sword filled with fatherly love struck the back of Do-young’s head.