Ch.8I’ll be watching a movie with you this weekend (2)

According to one statistic, the physical prime of humans is said to be between 27-29 years for men and 21-23 years for women.

That’s exactly the age range I was in before being reincarnated into the world of “Half of Half-Do.”

‘What a load of bull.’

Of course, I couldn’t believe it.

Me, in my physical prime? When all I did was commute between work and home, only to face-plant into my bed?

Even lies should have their limits.

Close your eyes and think back.

What were our youth days really like?

‘Ah, I finished Korean History 5 minutes late again. If you want more class time, don’t end late—come earlier. I was going to buy a cola from the store, but now I won’t even have time to drink it.’

‘We have 5 minutes left, want to race to see who gets to the store first?’

‘Stand down, I am the great Ban Do-young. I don’t compete physically with the likes of aspiring screenplay writers who just sit at desks all day writing. Besides, if you run all that way and don’t have time to drink it, your cold cola will get warm by the next break.’

‘…Scared?’

‘Just say it straight, you little shit.’

Under society’s pressure that college was the only answer in life.

Even while living day and night consumed by classes, self-study, workbooks, and reference materials, during those brief breaks or lunch periods, we couldn’t sit still. Didn’t we dash out to the playground to kick a ball or race through the school corridors?

‘Ban Do-young.’

‘What now?’

‘We’re doing a 6-player queue and we’re short on people. Get on Discord quick.’

‘Can I play Genji?’

‘Fuck, you’re crossing the line.’

And that’s not all.

Even after returning home from cram school sessions that ran past midnight,

Weren’t we up all night queuing in front of monitors as if we couldn’t contain our energy?

Until middle school, we despaired over the shutdown law, but once we turned 16, even that restriction disappeared.

In college, things slowed down a bit, but the form remained.

Lectures, assignments, part-time jobs, drinking sessions. Dawn PC room gaming, farming for items, and so on.

In that endless loop, I never tired and managed all schedules without fatigue.

If asked whether I could return to that lifestyle with a body approaching 30, honestly, I’m not confident.

Even if someone paid me to do it, wouldn’t I collapse at some point?

Perhaps that’s why they say youth can’t be bought with money.

“Class 1 students, everyone. Good job making it through six periods on your first day. Well, at least you didn’t have after-school classes or night self-study, so this much should be manageable, right?”

“No!”

“Hehe, but I like the energy in your voices! Tomorrow we’ll have seven periods as scheduled, so keep that in mind!”

“Ah, she’s a devil…!”

Though classes were normalized from day one, these were students in their prime with nothing but energy.

Even after six periods, their responses remained impressively spirited.

“And Ban Do-young! I heard you slept through nearly half of today’s six periods! Is that true?”

“Yes!”

“Aren’t you being a bit too proud about it?”

Of course, I couldn’t endure.

Studying is done with the mind, not physical strength.

For a spirit housed in the body of a nearly 30-year-old hunched man,

Starting the high school curriculum from scratch was unbearably harsh.

“If I hear about this one more time, I won’t just let it slide! I might take special measures and give Ban Do-young private tutoring!”

“I’ll behave!”

“W-well, at least your response is energetic!”

Private tutoring with a young female teacher.

Ten years ago, when Ban Do-young was male, this might have been slightly exciting,

But a private tutoring scene between the main heroine and a female teacher is unnecessary in a youth romance webtoon.

A few panels in a flashback would be more than enough.

“The student sitting next to you, Do Ha-min, was very attentive during social studies and other teachers’ classes too. Learn from Ha-min and work harder, understand?”

“Th-thank you…”

“Tch, if she knew what was at the very bottom of your bag, she wouldn’t say that.”

“W-we agreed not to talk about that…”

Do Ha-min shook his head with a reddened face.

From the reference books and workbooks filling her bag,

And the dense notes he took throughout class, I could tell that Ha-min was the model student character.

Perhaps due to his large hands?

Judging by how he squeezed his parents’ birthdays onto the calendar and wrote his notes in a style only he could understand, his handwriting was somewhat poor.

At this rate, even if he wrote the correct answers on subjective test questions, they might be marked wrong.

That’s how concerning it was.

In contrast, how was our traditional beauty with delicate hands, Ban Do-young?

The round, bubbly handwriting on textbooks and school supplies was almost like that of a fancy artist.

With handwriting like this, even if she got eliminated in the first round of a quiz show,

She could still appear to write “Fighting without burning!” messages on the whiteboards of participating friends.

‘Was this the career path she was considering all along?’

Career after high school.

Would the story of “Half of Half-Do” continue beyond high school graduation?

If it reaches its conclusion before then, wouldn’t I be able to return to my original world without having to think about career paths?

Then perhaps there’s no need to decide on a career path,

Or deeply consider college majors.

‘I don’t know. There’s no use in thinking too deeply about it now.’

It might just be a setup for giving Ban Do-young a role in a Teacher’s Day rolling paper event.

Only the author knows the truth.

“Well, everyone, this applies to all of you. Today is the start of your high school life, right? Even if you’ve avoided studying until now, you can always start again if you set your mind to it! I’ll help you!”

Teacher Miso was faithful to her role.

As a first-year high school homeroom teacher, she was the facilitator helping students rediscover their lost motivation for studying.

Somewhat cynically, her role was to encourage “just attend school rather than dropping out if you’re uncertain.”

“Students who have career goals in mind, please come to me for counseling anytime, okay?”

“Teacher, does studying hard actually change anything?”

“Of course it does!”

“Like what?”

“Like… like what?”

Teacher Miso was suddenly at a loss for words at the unexpected question.

Had she not prepared an answer about what could change by studying hard?

Placing both index fingers on her forehead as if seeking knowledge from another dimension, Teacher Miso desperately searched for an answer while swiveling her waist from side to side.

“M-maybe your future husband’s face?”

That was the answer she came up with after thinking for about 15 seconds.

“…How materialistic!”

“That’s no different from what our parents say! Is that all you could come up with?”

“Waaah! But I studied to impress my first love! Though I was rejected!”

“Why are you even mentioning that if you got dumped!”

The students, harboring resentment for the regular classes, seized the opportunity to shower Teacher Miso with arrows of criticism.

Thanks to someone who had taught them how to publicly murder a person on the first day of school.

Who could that have been?

I remember they were quite pretty.

“‘Your future husband’s face,’ she says, Hye-rang. I should study harder. That way my current boyfriend will become more handsome, hehehe.”

“Work on yourself first. You don’t even have a boyfriend.”

“Ugh… Hye-rang. What kind of attack is this?”

Sa-hyang clutched her small chest in pain.

“Future husband’s face…”

I turned my head and glanced down at Ha-min.

“Ugh… I feel like there’s still a mango smell on the desk. It’s strangely sticky too.”

“Pfft.”

“W-what’s wrong?”

Even by the end of homeroom, Ha-min was still struggling with the sticky residue under his desk, unable to completely remove the traces of the spilled mango cola.

Watching him fidget while wiping cola stains from his oversized uniform sleeves—deliberately sized up to last three years—I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I wonder if it will change?”

“Huh?”

“No, it’s nothing.”

It would be dangerous if it changed.

If the ending doesn’t lead to Ha-min, I won’t be able to return to my original world.

In that case, I definitely can’t study hard.

“Then shall we end here for today?”

After six periods comes cleaning time.

But today was the first day of school.

Class 1-1 had neither a class president to lead the cleaning,

Nor assigned cleaning areas for individuals.

“Those… interested in being class president or committee members, please let me know later, and shall we wrap up for today? Everyone seems eager to get home quickly.”

“Teacher Miso, do we not need to clean up separately?”

“Ah… for today, let’s just pick up trash around your own desks? Thanks to your seniors who used the room well, it doesn’t look too messy.”

The same person who had insisted on normalizing studies and classes strangely backed down when it came to cleaning.

Was she afraid of further rebellion from the children?

Or did she dislike cleaning so much herself that she felt uncomfortable asking others to do it?

If it’s the latter, that would be quite amusing,

But for the future of this class, I hoped it was the former.

“Trash… trash…”

So we gathered the scattered trash around our desks into one place.

“Youngest, take this out with you on your way.”

“From now on, let’s determine hierarchy by what our hearts tell us.”

“Sure, whoever’s heart is closest to their chest can be number one.”

“Tch.”

“I-I’ll throw it away. Give it here.”

Ha-min gathered the trash that Sa-hyang and I were squabbling over and took it to the trash can by the back door.

“Hey.”

*Thud*

At that moment, Jung-gyu, who had been sitting in the last seat of the third row, grabbed Ha-min’s shoulder as he was throwing away the trash.

Ha-min’s body flinched when he recognized Jung-gyu’s voice.

“I told you to stay after, didn’t I?”

“…Yeah. I know.”

“You little shit, acting all friendly with Ban Do-young. I asked all the seniors and people who know her, and not one of them mentioned knowing someone like you. What are you?”

“…”

“You got money? Did your dad pay those girls 100 each to hang out with you? Told them to suck you off if you get horny?”

“Stop…”

“Fuck, stop what? This doesn’t make sense. Why would Ban Do-young be next to someone like you—”

“What are you guys talking about so excitedly?”

“Shit, you scared me…!”

I quickly darted over and inserted myself between Ha-min and Jung-gyu, joining their conversation.

I had been watching Jung-gyu’s behavior for a while.

With trash sitting next to the trash can, how could I not be careful?

“B-Ban Do-young…?”

“Just wrap it up and let him go. His house is far. If he wastes time with you, he’ll miss his ride.”

“Tsk… fuck. Is there really something between you two?”

“Nothing with you, that’s for sure.”

“…What?”

“I said fuck you.”

“You fucking bitch, just because those dick-sucking guys worship you like some goddess…”

“Sa-hyang, Hye-rang! Let’s go quickly. This guy says his train comes in 15 minutes!”

Leaving behind the fuming Jung-gyu, I quickly grabbed Ha-min’s bag and left.

When dealing with trash, it’s important to provoke but maintain a safe distance.

If the fist of this 187cm alpha male who changes girlfriends like changing clothes were to fly at my face,

I might have to transfer the goddess title to someone else in this school.

Gotta protect your assets, you know?

“Teacher Miso. We’ve cleaned our seats, so can we leave now? It’s not like we have a ‘class president’ to call attention and bow anyway!”

“J-just for today!”

And that’s how the main heroine of “Half of Half-Do,”

Ban Do-young’s first day of school ended.