Giseok was being unusually loud today. What’s more, he wasn’t making a lick of sense. Iho recalled what his mother had mentioned the day before.

　　Apparently, the transfer student had moved to Seoul to study. This neighborhood was a premier school district, a place where students from Korea’s various provinces often moved to prepare for their university admissions.

　　But while most students coming from outside may have been top achievers back home, they usually struggled to compete with local kids who had been grinding through private tutors and cram schools since elementary school. But the new transfer student had become the talk of the school by taking the number one spot the moment he arrived.

　　Some said that he lived in a luxury apartment in the center of the new town. Others said that he hired university professors for private tutoring. Plenty of wild stories about the new guy.

　　Iho jammed his earphones deeper into his ears, but Giseok’s whining cut right through. To make matters worse, the big crybaby was drawing closer.

　　“Hey, Song. Am I right, or am I right?”

　　A hand slammed onto the desk, covering the problem Iho was working on. Iho tugged at his earphone cord and looked up at Giseok.

　　“About what?”

　　“Seriously? Dude. He might steal the principal’s recommendation from you!”

　　“Well…”

　　It was true that with his grades, Iho was aiming for Hanguk University. The top school in the country. But the principal’s recommendation wasn’t the only way to get an early admission. And if all else failed, there was always regular admission.

　　“Then I just need to study hard enough not to fall behind.”

　　“Didn’t you hear? That guy hired university professors to tutor him! We never stood a chance!”

　　“…I guess his family has money, then.”

　　Even Giseok, who had just complained about how unfair it was in front of everyone, came from a wealthy family and received pricey tutoring from a top-tier university student. Now, Iho could get a tutor for a subject if he asked his parents. But as the only son of the rice cake shop owners, the cost would strain their budget on top of his cram school fees. And the biggest issue was that if he asked, his parents would likely strain themselves to make it happen.

　　“Anyway, Song. Don’t just sit there doing nothing. You should…”

　　Slide.

　　Iho looked over and let out a soft “Oh,” as the back door of the classroom opened.

　　Active high school boys tended to wear down the seats and knees of their uniforms within a year. Yet the pants of the boy walking toward them looked crisp and brand new.

　　Upon spotting Iho, his eyebrows shot up. As he walked straight over, Iho could see that the name tag on his blazer read Cha Mingyu.

　　So he was a Cha.

　　His face, drenched in sweat just the day before, was clean and dry as he flashed a wide grin just like the previous day.

　　“Hey.”

　　So he was the transfer student everyone was making a fuss about. If he joined the Hanguk University Class at this time of year, it was almost certainly him.

　　“I transferred here earlier this semester. Just got assigned to this study hall after midterms. I don’t really know how things work yet. Mind if I sit here, Iho?”

　　Mingyu set his bag down on the desk beside Iho before he could even answer. Right where Giseok had been perched. Two pairs of eyes fixed on Iho. Giseok, his face set in a scowl, and Mingyu, watching him with a casual smile.

　　…It didn’t really matter who sat there, but it was better if it was someone who was quiet.

　　“Sure.”

　　And so Iho chose Mingyu.

　　Mingyu pulled out the chair and motioned for Giseok to move. Already over 180cm tall, Mingyu towered over Giseok. Giseok hesitantly took a few steps back before stomping out of the classroom loud enough for everyone to hear. Grumbles of “Ugh, seriously?” and “Why is he throwing a fit?” rose among the students, still studying despite it being break time.

　　“Going to the gym today, too?”

　　Mingyu rested his elbows on the desk, staring intently at Iho.

　　“Yeah.”

　　“When?”

　　“After the evening study period. Ten-ish, I guess?”

　　“Can I join?”

　　“Why?”

　　Mingyu’s eyes widened at Iho’s matter-of-fact response. Then he flashed a smile that was unmistakably bitter.

　　“Oh… Um. Do you hate me like everyone else?”

　　“No…? It’s just… I heard you live in the new district. My boxing gym’s in the opposite direction. Why come with me when there are plenty of new gyms over on your side of town?”

　　And above all else? Iho couldn’t fathom why anyone would go back after seeing how carelessly the coach ran the place. Iho let out a quiet sigh.

　　“Look. Sorry. I’m not great at expressing myself.”

　　“No, it’s fine. The vibe was a bit tense when I walked in, so I just jumped to conclusions.”

　　At Mingyu’s words, a few students turned to look, as if struck by a pang of guilt. Whether they had agreed with Giseok or pretended not to hear, a ripple of emotion stirred through the room, yet Mingyu simply smiled, completely unbothered. The hurt look he’d briefly shown moments ago was nowhere to be found.

　　Iho blinked in surprise, thinking, What’s up with this guy…?

　　“Then how about you switch gyms and join me?”

　　“My current gym is on my way home.”

　　“I can walk you halfway every day.”

　　What did that have to do with anything? Iho decided to tell Mingyu the real reason he couldn’t switch.

　　“Sorry. The owner’s friends with my parents.”

　　“Then I’ll just go there, too.”

　　Mingyu made his decision without a moment’s hesitation. Iho nodded in response, thinking the new guy was definitely a little off.

* * *

　　Classes for the STEM track at the cram school ended twenty minutes later than those for liberal arts. Iho hurriedly gathered his things and headed for the emergency exit, knowing the elevator would be packed, and sprinted down five flights of stairs.

　　At ten o’clock, the neighborhood in front of the cram school was as bustling as a market. Looking around, Iho spotted Mingyu perched on the guardrail. As always, he waited silently despite having found Iho first, staring until Iho spotted him on his own. It was a habit with no clear reason, yet seeing the grin spread across Mingyu’s face the moment their eyes met, Iho felt no need to question it.

　　The second he made eye contact with Iho, Mingyu pulled out his earphones and gave a wave. But getting over to him was a bit of a challenge. Caught in the wave of students pouring out, Iho had to exchange quick greetings with some, while others grabbed his shoulder and whispered while glancing at Mingyu.

　　Just as Iho finally reached Mingyu, another group of giggling students approached them.

　　“Hey, Song! Cha! We’ve got a question for you.”

　　Kids from another school they’d gotten to know.

　　“What happens when snow melts?”

　　Iho answered the sudden question with wide eyes, while Mingyu replied with a small smile.

　　“Turns into water.”

　　“Spring arrives.”

　　As their friends chattered away, saying things like, “See? What’d I say? STEM and Lib Arts,” Iho and Mingyu looked at each other as if questioning the other’s sanity.

　　“Snow is just frozen water vapor.”

　　“Are you stupid? They said snow. Not ice. The question was obviously metaphorical.”

　　Mingyu’s glove hit Iho’s chest protector with a loud thwack. Iho furrowed his brows like he was facing a high-difficulty math problem.

　　“How the hell do you even arrive at a conclusion like that?”

　　Iho threw a punch in retaliation, channeling his frustration over the topic they’d been debating since leaving the tutoring center. Mingyu’s headgear rattled from the blow. For high school boys brimming with energy and stress, sparring was always a brawl. It was also a chance to unleash the words bottled up during study sessions. Even while panting for breath, neither stopped talking.

　　“Fine, different question then. What happens when a snowman melts?”

　　Since Iho’s family rice cake shop was in a residential neighborhood, snowmen built by young kids were a common sight. Picturing the snowmen melting, Iho racked his brain to get the right answer this time. Snow always picked up dirt when it fell to the ground.

　　“Muddy water.”

　　“Song Iho, you dumb bastard. Forget getting top scores in your Korean exam.”

　　Unable to offer a rebuttal, Iho pressed his attack. Language was his biggest weakness. Whenever he asked Mingyu about a problem he couldn’t grasp, even after reading the answer key, Mingyu would look at him like he couldn’t understand how Iho didn’t get it. Even so, Mingyu never gave up. He would try every angle and example until Iho finally understood.

　　The two kept moving while talking about snow, winter, and ice for a long while. Sparring with the same partner every day had made them familiar with each other’s styles. Iho was fast and stuck to the fundamentals, while Mingyu parried attacks before suddenly unleashing powerful, unpredictable strikes.

　　Of course, that was only how things went at the start. As the round dragged on, it devolved into little more than tenacity-driven chaos.

　　“Snow melts three or four days after it falls. Does that mean spring starts in December? Huh?”

　　“Poor Song Iho. Can’t even appreciate a flower bud sprouting in the snow? Hard to have a civilized conversation with someone who has no taste.”

　　The two continued throwing punches until they collapsed onto the canvas when the bell rang. Heavy coughing erupted from deep within their chests as the coach clicked his tongue from across the ring.

　　“Summer break hasn’t even started yet, and you two are already planning winter vacation? What’s with all the snow talk?”

　　“…”

　　“…”

　　Once the physical rush subsided, a wave of awkward embarrassment set in as they realized they had been bickering nonstop over trivial semantics. As they silently went through their cool-down stretches, Iho spoke up, as if he had just remembered something.

　　“Oh, right. Hey, Mingyu.”

　　“What?”

　　“Giseok wanted me to tell you that he didn’t mean what he said at the start of the semester.”

　　Lying on his back, Mingyu turned his head toward Iho.

　　“Who’s Giseok?”

　　“The guy sitting right in front in the second row at the study hall. Seo Giseok.”

　　“Oh.”

　　In less than two months since transferring, Mingyu had won over everyone around him. The initial jealousy toward the newcomer had given way to admiration for his good looks, top grades, charming personality, and wealth. By now, everyone in the liberal arts track knew Mingyu’s name, and even in the STEM track where Iho belonged, people often talked about Cha Mingyu from Class 9.

　　As a result, Giseok, who had been busy talking trash behind Mingyu’s back, was starting to get antsy. Things had gotten to the point where he even asked Iho to put in a good word for him through his mother, a regular customer at the rice cake shop.

　　“Is that the guy who pulled you aside and whispered to you earlier?”

　　“Uh. Yeah.”

　　“Got it. Didn’t realize he was bothering you. I’ll play nice with him.”

　　“Wouldn’t say he was bothering me. Just felt sorry for him.”

　　At that, Mingyu rolled over to close the distance between them.

　　“What’s this? The cold-blooded Song Iho suddenly caring so much about someone else? What, you think a snowman turns into muddy water when it melts, but Seo Giseok becomes a blooming spring?”

　　“…The hell are you talking about? If a dude suddenly started to melt, that would mean we’re looking at a heat wave.”

　　“Huh. Right. Forgot I was talking to a human cold snap. Your brain’s so frozen over that it’s getting chilly in here. I’ve never seen anyone so cold.”

　　“…Something tells me you’re insulting me, but I can’t understand what you’re saying enough to get mad.”

　　Their sparring record was neck and neck, but verbal arguments were always a landslide victory for Mingyu. Yet even after huffing in frustration, it was Mingyu who would always lean back in first.

　　That summer, when they had known each other for barely a few months, they would walk between school and the cram school, only a couple of steps apart, talking about nothing in particular.

　　By autumn, they playfully sparred on their way to the gym, eager to try out new techniques they’d seen online.

　　And when winter rolled around, Mingyu’s arm rested casually over Iho’s shoulder. Both the curious distance Mingyu had carried when they first met and the cautious shyness Iho had shown had completely vanished. In their place were matching, toothy smiles.

　　And after spending their final year of high school together, they went on to major in Computer Engineering and Media & Communication, respectively. As if it were a future already written.

　　They always sat side by side, close enough to meet each other’s eyes whenever they turned.

　　And fifteen years later, the two were still sitting next to each other.