Chapter 8: “The Smile That Causes Trouble”

“Yeah, well. Don’t be too disappointed.”

Since he believed character development came before power, Seong Ji-woo wasn’t particularly anxious that Yu Hee-ro couldn’t use his abilities yet.

Hee-ro himself might have been nervous, but Ji-woo could understand.

If he were in Hee-ro’s shoes—possessing power but unable to use it—he would’ve gone crazy trying to awaken it as soon as possible.
Not because of other people’s opinions, but because that kind of helplessness eats away at you from the inside.
The feeling that you’re useless—that you have no worth.
Once that thought takes root, your sense of self-efficacy crumbles, and you drown in your own powerlessness.

‘Am I really good for nothing?’

All the questions that sprouted from that thought… Ji-woo had wrestled with them for years in his past life.
They had only eaten away at him, never helping in any way, yet back then he hadn’t been able to escape from them.
Maybe that’s why he couldn’t ignore Hee-ro now, sitting there with a sullen look.

“You’ll be able to use it soon enough, so don’t worry too much. It’s not like being unable to use your power right this second is a big deal, right?”

“…Yes, sir.”

He wouldn’t believe it, but soon Yu Hee-ro would be able to use his power.
A power strong enough to destroy the world.
There might not be anyone who could match him when that time came—though that would take a few years at least.

But knowing that didn’t erase the anxiety and pressure Hee-ro was feeling now, so Ji-woo offered another word of comfort.

“Even if you could use your ability right now, it’s not like you’d have much use for it, right? I mean, what do those guys with fire powers do besides lighting candles on cakes?”

At that sharp comparison, Hee-ro let out a faint laugh.
It was the first time someone had stood on his side—and the first time someone hadn’t mocked him for being powerless.
He’d waited so long to hear something like that.
Words no one had ever given him before.

‘It’s okay even if you can’t.’

He’d tried to tell himself that many times, but he never could believe it.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “You’re the first person to tell me it’s okay.”

The moment Ji-woo heard that, he awkwardly averted his eyes and cleared his throat.
Hee-ro watched as the tips of Ji-woo’s ears turned pink.

“It’s not… I mean, it’s not even that great of a thing to say. Don’t look at me like that while saying stuff like that… it’s embarrassing.”

Ji-woo blinked rapidly and rolled his eyes around, trying to look anywhere else.
Every time he moved his gaze, Hee-ro’s gentle, smiling face appeared and disappeared like sunlight through leaves.

Light brown hair, amber eyes that seemed to catch and hold the sunlight—they glowed like warm jewels.
Even objectively speaking, Yu Hee-ro was handsome.
In Ji-woo’s past life, the photos he’d seen of Hee-ro showed black hair and dark eyes, but now his coloring was softer, lighter.
Either way, he was good-looking—but the living, breathing warmth of the current Hee-ro suited him far better than the monochrome memory of before.
Now, he looked softer. Warmer.

Especially under natural light, Hee-ro seemed to shine, as if a halo surrounded him.
His delicate features were both gentle and vivid—beautiful and handsome at once.
Normally Ji-woo would just think, He’s a good-looking kid, but when Hee-ro smiled, his eyes crinkling sweetly, his hidden beauty seemed to burst into the open.

So, after all that long internal justification…

The truth was simple.
Right now, Yu Hee-ro looked too pretty.

‘Seriously, what’s with that face? It’s like he’s trying to charm people on purpose. Why’s he smiling like that…’

Ji-woo, who proudly considered himself straight, could not accept that he found another man pretty.
He decided it wasn’t his problem—it was Hee-ro’s.

No, thinking about it, it really was Hee-ro’s fault.
That face was criminally confusing.

“Um… Do you not like it when I look at you?”

Hee-ro, unaware of Ji-woo’s mental chaos, looked at him with eyes drooping sadly.
He went from sunshine to a rain-soaked puppy in an instant.
Ji-woo let out a deep sigh.

“No, it’s not that. Just… don’t go smiling like that at random people.”

“Huh?”

“That face of yours—it causes misunderstandings. It’s dangerous.”

“…Dangerous?”

Hee-ro didn’t understand, but Ji-woo meant it.
Anyone seeing that innocent, dazzling smile would start wondering, Is he into me? and spiral into delusion.

Where had he even learned to smile like that?

It was a blessing he only smiled like that in front of Ji-woo—if he did it out on the street, his phone number would be stolen within the hour.
And knowing his clueless personality, he’d probably hand over all his personal information without realizing it.

Not just his number—his name, age, and whatever else people asked for.
His phone would never stop ringing afterward.

‘Let’s just hope no con artists go after him. Those bastards are persistent.’

Ji-woo had completely forgotten that he himself had once lured Hee-ro in and brainwashed him with a similar tactic.

“…I’ll be careful. I’m sorry,” Hee-ro said meekly, mistaking Ji-woo’s tone for scolding.

“No, it’s not your fault… It’s the fault of the creeps who stare at you like that…”

“Huh?”

Ji-woo’s voice trailed off into nothing.
When Hee-ro tilted his head, Ji-woo quickly shook his own.

“Anyway, just be glad I’m your senior.”

He clapped Hee-ro on the shoulder with the seriousness of a father giving life advice.

Hee-ro smiled and nodded.
“Yes. I’m glad you’re my senior.”

“No—don’t… don’t say stuff like that!”

“Huh?”

“…Forget it. Why am I even… talking to you like you’re a kid…”

The more he spoke, the more he cringed at himself.
He groaned and rubbed his forehead.

“Did I do something wrong again?” Hee-ro asked nervously.

Ji-woo smacked his forehead a few times, then suddenly turned toward him.

“It’s not your fault, but listen! If anyone offers you candy, you say no! You say, ‘No, I don’t want it!’ Got it?”

His eyes burned with the same concern as a worried father.
Hee-ro just blinked, confused.

“…Candy?”

“And if someone on the street asks for your number, don’t give it! That’s all voice phishing scams!”

“Uh… okay.”

Not all people asking for numbers were scammers, but still—Ji-woo felt safer setting that rule.
He genuinely worried about Hee-ro getting kidnapped, brainwashed, or sold into organ trafficking.

“There are so many bad people in this world…”

“But didn’t you say last time that I should love humanity with a pure heart…?”

“Ah… right. Love them, but not too much.”

He had no idea what he was saying anymore, but he said it anyway.

“Huh? Sorry, could you repeat that? I don’t think I understood.”

“Love them, but moderately! Everything’s good in moderation!”

“Love…?”

“Yes! Love! I mean—uh—show love, but don’t overdo it.”

It wasn’t much of an improvement, but Hee-ro just nodded like he’d understood.

“Okay. I’ll remember that. Thank you.”

And his lips curved upward again, forming that dangerously radiant smile.

They say people who suddenly start doing good deeds die young.
So, to avoid dying young, Seong Ji-woo quit his volunteer litter cleanup after three days.
On the third day, he threw his trash picker on the ground in frustration—so technically, he lasted two and a half days.

He’d concluded that no amount of trash-picking would suddenly make Yu Hee-ro gain faith in humanity.
It wasn’t that he looked down on him—he just knew Hee-ro was the kind who listened better to words than examples.

Hee-ro stared gloomily at the schoolyard corner still littered with garbage.

“People keep throwing trash here… It was clean yesterday… You’re working too hard, senior.”

There was quiet resentment in his tone—for the people who kept littering, not for Ji-woo.
At this rate, his slowly restored love for humanity might start leaking away.

‘Why can’t people just use a trash can? Are they praying for the world to end already? God, what a bunch of bastards.’

Ji-woo swallowed the curses rising to his throat.
There was more trash now than when he started.
It seemed the more he cleaned, the more comfortably people littered, assuming someone else would handle it.

How sly. How shameless.

“…Let’s stop here for today and go to the training room.”

Forcing a smile, Ji-woo decided he’d never do this again.
Still, the spot they cleaned together was spotless—no leaves, no trash.

Thanks to Hee-ro, it even stayed that way for several more days.
During breaks and lunchtime, he stood guard there like a statue, making sure no one littered.
Not because Ji-woo asked him to—Ji-woo had already given up checking.

When students casually tossed ice cream wrappers on the ground, Hee-ro silently picked them up and handed them back.

“Don’t throw trash here again.”

The students jumped, startled.
They hadn’t even noticed him there.
He’d been standing still for so long they’d mistaken him for a sculpture.

“Uh… o-okay!”

They ran away with the trash still in hand.
Hee-ro watched until they disappeared, then resumed his post, motionless under the blazing sun.

“Who’s that guy? Why’s he just standing there?”

“You don’t know? He’s been there for days.”

“Why?”

“Apparently to stop people from littering. Gives the trash back to them if they do. Kind of creepy but… effective, I guess?”

“Oh! Isn’t that where Seong Ji-woo was cleaning like crazy the other day?”

“Yeah. Oh my god, do you think he made Hee-ro stand guard there?”

“Probably! Poor guy. Did he piss off a senior or something?”

“They say Seong Ji-woo’s got a fiery temper…”

Two girls whispered as they looked toward the distant figure of Yu Hee-ro, pity softening their eyes.

Before long, rumors began to spread across campus—wild, ominous stories about the “terrifying senior” and his “poor victim junior.”

And meanwhile, completely unaware of any of it, the so-called victim stood at his post, watching through the classroom window as Seong Ji-woo passed by… smiling shyly to himself.