Chapter 8 : Excessive Self-consciousness

“I should sleep.”

Just like the reply I sent.

I put my phone down and stared at the ceiling.

Strangely, I wasn’t tired.

“Let’s just sleep.”

I muttered to myself, yet I still glanced at my phone screen one more time.

It was a meaningless action.

I lazily pulled the blanket over myself and forced my eyes shut.

There’s no need to overthink it.

She was always like that.

I felt like I was paying attention to something I shouldn’t care about.

It was nothing.

Just meaningless words.

Just a simple joke.

For some reason, tonight felt like it was going to be a long one.

I couldn’t fall asleep.

I headed to the bookstore to buy a workbook.

I thought I had finally said goodbye to exams, but here I was suffering again.

I assumed that since this was a world where magic existed, I’d be learning something different.

I thought I’d have less to study.

I was wrong.

It was the opposite.

Not only did I have to learn the common knowledge of this world, but also all the basics related to magic.

The doubled workload made my head hurt.

They said I only needed to study enough to avoid failing, but I couldn’t help feeling anxious.

If I never found a way back to my original world, wouldn’t that mean I’d have to live here forever?

So this was the least I could do as a precaution.

[Side episode discovered. The perspective is now locked.]

As I stepped into the bookstore, my eyes were naturally drawn to a familiar head of hair.

Platinum blonde. A small, round head caught my attention.

It was Lee Jian.

She was scanning the shelves, seemingly searching for a book.

Then, as if she had found what she was looking for, she reached out.

I didn’t know what book it was, but her face brightened.

A radiant smile spread across her lips.

It was the kind of smile that made even the onlooker feel good.

Lee Jian reached for the book.

It looked like her hand was about to overlap with someone else’s.

But it didn’t.

They each grabbed a different book.

She held the book and slowly flipped through the pages.

When the other person walked away with their book, she let out a small sigh and placed hers back on the shelf.

She stared at the empty spot for a moment, as if feeling reluctant, then turned away.

“It’s not like I really wanted it that badly anyway.”

[Perspective unlocked.]

It felt familiar.

It was a scene that had been described in the original story.

A moment included to show the character’s personality.

Even when I read it in the novel,I thought it was a bit sad.

She had gotten used to giving way.

Not because she wanted to, but simply out of habit.

Even when she wanted something, she wouldn’t express it easily or push her opinion.

She would naturally back off, scared to ask for too much.

Her personality, which sought to avoid hurting anyone, only ended up hurting herself like a boomerang.

“That’s why she’s like that.”

That’s why she lost to Park Nayul.

‘If you want something, you should just say so.’

I quietly memorized the title of the book she had been looking at.

It seemed familiar.

Pro Cutie.

‘So she likes comics, huh? Even though she pretends otherwise.’

I pulled out my phone, searched for the book, and added it to my cart.

I didn’t know when I’d give it to her.

But someday, I will.

“How stupid.”

On my way out after buying my workbook, a system message appeared.

[Main episode discovered. Guiding you now.]

A glowing arrow appeared in the air.

As if urging me to follow, my vision flashed red.

I had no choice but to follow the arrow.

Most of the buildings were low-rise.

The apartment complexes that were common back in Korea were rare here.

It was partly because this was a rural area, but also because of the world’s setting.

Apparently, mana itself made it difficult to construct high-rise buildings.

Because of that, single-family houses were more common.

There were walls, but most were low enough that you could see into the yards if you stood on tiptoe.

[Destination reached.]

Just as the system message popped up, a door opened.

And—

“Senior, should I put this here?”

“Yeah, just leave it there.

I could have done it myself, though.”

“A-ah, no, it’s okay.”

Yoon Jihoo and Park Nayul were moving boxes in the yard.

I quietly observed them.

“…Ah.”

Yoon Jihoo’s eyes met mine.

Just because my presence was weak didn’t mean people couldn’t see me at all.

If that were the case, I’d be a ghost.

Though honestly, there wasn’t much of a difference.

It just meant that if people paid close enough attention, they’d notice me.

In other words, Yoon Jihoo’s senses were on high alert.

He was obviously tense.

His expression stiffened slightly.

“You’re Kim Dohyun, right?”

I nodded.

I alternated my gaze between Park Nayul and Yoon Jihoo.

It wasn’t hard to guess what was going on.

Isn’t this the kind of scene you’d see all the time in romance comedies?

Ending up living together by chance with someone you have a crush on.

A fantasy scenario that’s impossible in reality but works in novels.

Well, it was an episode that already appeared in the original story.

I had been wondering when it would happen, and I guess this was the timing.

Judging by the luggage, it hadn’t been long since they started living together.

Yoon Jihoo hesitated to speak, as if unsure where to start.

Instead, Park Nayul spoke first.

“Oh, Dohyun. Hey!”

I gave a brief nod.

“…What are you doing here?”

As if waiting for that question, Park Nayul immediately answered.

“We decided to live together.”

“…Huh?”

I instinctively turned to look at Yoon Jihoo.

I already knew the situation, but seeing him flustered was amusing.

“Oh, so you two are that kind of relationship.

Well then, I won’t disturb you any further—”

It was just a small tease.

Since they were going to be happy anyway, a little bit of mischief wouldn’t hurt, right?

I clenched my fist slightly.

I kept recalling Lee Jian’s expression at the bookstore.

Yoon Jihoo let out a sigh.

“Wait!

It’s not like that.”

He sighed again before adding an explanation.

“Her parents are staying overseas for a long time, and they thought it’d be safer for her to live in a reliable home rather than alone.”

I quietly nodded.

“So after discussing it with my parents, she’s staying at our house for now.”

Yoon Jihoo looked like he felt wronged.

“I had no idea our parents were old classmates.”

They weren’t living alone together.

Like he said, his parents were also in the house, so nothing scandalous was going to happen.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

When I said that, Yoon Jihoo looked even more flustered.

“You believe me?

Just like that?”

“Why not?”

“I mean, yeah, but… don’t you think you’re believing me too easily?”

“What do you want me to do, then?

Believe you or not?”

“Uh, b-believe me!”

Yoon Jihoo blurted out, sounding desperate.

“I said I believe you.”

At my response, Park Nayul laughed and spoke up.

“Haha, you’re a pretty interesting guy.”

I scratched the back of my head.

Am I really that unusual?

Park Nayul was acting relaxed, but it was clear she was paying attention to Yoon Jihoo.

The original story had described this “subtle distance at the start of their cohabitation,” and it was playing out exactly as expected.

Well, no matter what, she was staying at someone else’s house and living with a guy.

Awkwardness was inevitable.

I didn’t like the awkward atmosphere.

Sticking around felt like I was interfering between them.

The system had probably gathered enough material for the scene it wanted.

“Then, I’ll get going.”

Yoon Jihoo hurriedly spoke.

“Don’t tell the others—”

“I won’t.

It’ll stay a secret.”

A brief hesitation.

For some reason, I found it hard to walk away.

After a fleeting moment of indecision, I asked,

“What about Lee Jian?”

“Huh?”

Yoon Jihoo tilted his head, confused.

“Are you keeping it a secret from her too?

I mean, she’s your childhood friend, right?”

“Oh, if I tell her, she’ll definitely tease me about it.

It’s better not to.

She’s got a loose tongue sometimes.”

“…She wouldn’t, though.”

I muttered quietly to myself.

Fortunately, Yoon Jihoo didn’t seem to hear it.

For a moment, my eyes met Park Nayul’s.

She was smirking knowingly, as if she had figured something out.

A chill ran down my spine.

It felt like my thoughts had been exposed.

I quickly averted my gaze.

“Alright, I’m really leaving now.”

And with that, I hurried away as if escaping.

“Something’s off.”

Lee Jian whispered beside me.

I turned to look at her.

“What is?”

She crossed her arms and stared at the other side of the auditorium.

Her gaze was locked on Yoon Jihoo and Park Nayul.

Park Nayul was watching Yoon Jihoo’s movements and giving him pointers.

Since his performance had many martial arts elements, she was teaching him the basics.

Not only was she skilled in dance performances, but she also had a decent understanding of martial arts choreography.

Seeing it like this, I was reminded again how ridiculously talented she was.

The atmosphere wasn’t bad.

If anything, it seemed quite natural.

They looked… comfortable.

“Don’t they seem kind of close?”

Lee Jian spoke again.

Her eyes remained fixed on the two of them.

“Do they?

Maybe you’re imagining things.”

“No, something’s weird.”

Her lips pressed together, and she furrowed her brows slightly.

Then she suddenly relaxed her expression and laughed.

“What?

I was worrying for nothing.

This actually might work out, don’t you think?”

She grinned as if she truly meant it.

“Yoon Jihoo is impressive, huh?

Getting so close to our school’s madonna this easily.

Don’t you think so?”

She glanced at me, watching for my reaction.

I didn’t respond.

No—I couldn’t respond.

Because at that moment, I noticed something.

Lee Jian’s fingertips were trembling ever so slightly.

And one last time, she looked at Yoon Jihoo and Park Nayul.

But her gaze…

It wasn’t directed at Yoon Jihoo.

It felt as if she was looking at me, as if waiting for an answer.

No, that couldn’t be.

I was probably overthinking it.

She sneaked a quick glance at me, acting indifferent.

And in that split second—

When our eyes met—

A fleeting, cold look crossed her gaze.

She was pretending nothing was wrong, but of course, she couldn’t be feeling good about it.

I guess the original story’s flow was inevitable after all.

Even so—

For some reason, I felt terrible.