"….."
"….."
"Why are you staring?"
"Hm?"
The familiar scenery of the morning commute, experienced again after so long.
Before they reached the fork in the road where their schools diverged, Lee Ji-hoon spoke to his younger sister, Lee Ji-hyeon.
He was quite tall by the standards of a boy at an all-boys school, while his sister was around average height for a middle schooler — the gap between them was considerable.
"Wow, that's seriously amazing."
"What is?"
"How did you lose weight so fast? I want to try too."
"What do you even have to lose?"
"Your hair too — you really did all that yourself?"
"It's not that big a deal."
His younger sister Lee Ji-hyeon found her brother's sudden transformation utterly baffling. And perhaps because she was at an age when looks felt like everything, she was brimming with the hope that she, too, could become prettier.
"Ahem."
A uniform that actually fit. Glasses that suited him far better than before.
A changed Lee Ji-hoon made his way toward his alma mater, Chorok High School.
"Hey! Oh my gosh, why are you so pretty now!"
"What are you talking about, I gained weight."
The kind of conversation you'd hear anywhere at a co-ed high school between girls.
Ji-hoon let it play as background music as he headed toward his homeroom, Class 1-2.
"What time do we get out today?"
"Should be quick."
"Yeah."
Choi Na-yeon, the class president of Chorok High School's first-year Class 1-2 for the first semester, noticed a classmate who had just arrived.
A big guy — but quiet and gentle.
Na-yeon was the type who got along with everyone without picking favorites, and she moved toward him to say hello to someone she hadn't seen in a while.
"Hmm."
"Hey, long time no see!"
"Hm?"
"Oh?"
Choi Na-yeon faltered for a moment.
But true to her nature — more mature than most of her peers — she collected herself immediately and glanced at his name tag.
Lee Ji-hoon.
The yellow name tag marking him as a first-year clearly read Lee Ji-hoon.
"How've you been?"
"Huh? Y-yeah, fine."
Na-yeon suddenly looked away and pressed her lips together.
"Sorry, but where was my seat again? I just blanked on it."
"What?"
Ji-hoon asked with an easy smile, as if it were nothing.
"Over there."
"Thanks."
He was a quiet guy, but his build made him easy to spot.
It wasn't hard for Na-yeon to remember where he sat.
"Phew."
Ji-hoon settled into his seat.
'Well, here we are.'
He'd work hard, sure — but the reality of suddenly being a high schooler again was hitting him in a way he hadn't quite expected.
Studying he could manage somehow. But spending three years pretending to be a kid in front of actual kids — that was a different kind of darkness. It felt like staring into a void.
Still, at least the one guy he'd been somewhat close with had transferred before summer break, he didn't have any tight friend group to navigate, no one he was on bad terms with, and it didn't seem like anything annoying would come up.
It was just his old school life, with two things added: studying hard, and figuring out how to make money.
"….."
'Once I get paid from work, what can I actually do with it…'
Today was the opening ceremony — no classes. Tomorrow was Liberation Day, a national holiday.
With nothing pressing to worry about, Ji-hoon's mind wasn't on studying. It was on money.
It was 2015. What was the best way to earn some?
And what was he actually capable of doing?
"….."
Whoosh.
Ji-hoon felt eyes on him and turned his head.
'Hm?'
The girls sitting nearby quickly looked away.
"….."
To Ji-hoon, who had lived as a host, women had been targets. The Japanese host club system worked by having you sell yourself to women already seated — turning them into regulars through designated requests.
So being looked at like this felt genuinely strange.
"Lee Seong-jun."
"Here."
"Lee Ji-hoon."
"Here."
"Oh my, Ji-hoon came back having lost so much weight?"
"Ha ha."
"I almost didn't recognize you — why are you so handsome all of a sudden? You're totally a Yoo Ha-in, a total Yoo Ha-in."
Ma Jin-suk, the homeroom teacher for Chorok High School's first-year Class 1-2, looked at Ji-hoon and said it with cheerful ease.
She was a middle-aged woman and a devoted fan of dramas and films, so she compared Ji-hoon to whichever male actor was popular at the time.
"Oh, come on."
"Teacher, that's a bit much."
The muted groans of the girls.
"….."
Pfft.
Ji-hoon heard it and smiled without meaning to.
Right — this was it. This was what high school looked like.
A life soaked in the smell of alcohol and perfume. A life spent waiting to die.
None of that existed here anymore. Freshness filled the air around him.
"Okay, pass these back."
The students were clinging to the fact that tomorrow was a holiday to get through the disappointment of summer break being over, while the homeroom teacher handed out notices to the students in the front row.
"Thanks."
"Hm?"
As Ji-hoon received the notice, he gave a small smile to Kang Da-hyeon, the girl sitting in front of him, and quietly thanked her.
A girl with bleached blonde hair and makeup on.
She ran with the more social crowd, but she was genuinely pretty, and she wore her uniform fitted to her slim figure — the kind of girl that passing boys would glance at and then quickly look away from if they thought she might catch them.
Whoosh.
The moment Da-hyeon met Ji-hoon's eyes, she snapped her head back forward.
"….."
Ji-hoon tilted his head slightly.
Having spent his previous life in the most glamorous circles in both Korea and Japan, a girl who was considered pretty by high school standards didn't particularly register.
Back in the day, he'd thought: wow, she's really pretty — but she hangs out with that crowd, so she's a little intimidating.
'Oh, right.'
Ji-hoon caught himself.
That was a mistake.
In the adult world, thanking someone for something small like that was perfectly natural. But in school, nobody said thank you just because someone passed along a notice.
'I'm something else.'
It was going to take some time to readjust.
"We'll switch seats next Monday, so don't put anything in your desk drawers for now. Take care on your way home."
"Goodbye, teacher!"
The students filed out with their farewells.
"Hey, my dad's going to kill me, I have to go straight home."
"Seriously?"
"….."
Ji-hoon walked down the hallway.
Back in the day, he'd always had earphones in, listening to music on the way home. He had no such inclination now.
"Hey, Ji-hoon."
"Yeah?"
A male classmate suddenly called out to him.
'Ahn Jun-min.'
They weren't exactly close, but Ji-hoon remembered him as someone with good relationships all around — similar to vice president Choi Na-yeon in that way.
He was good at sports, had a clean-cut face, and was generally well-liked.
"Want to stop by a coin karaoke on the way? We got out way too early."
"….."
10:10 in the morning.
Honestly, a bit of an odd hour for it.
"Sure."
Ji-hoon agreed.
They weren't close, but he and the other guys had some familiarity. No reason not to hang out.
He had things to work on, but spending time with classmates didn't seem like a bad idea either.
"Our ship, the Panokseon~"
"The thread that connects you and them~"
"My brother fixed his car, he's coming to pick you up~"
"….."
Ji-hoon arrived at the coin karaoke with four classmates.
'Right, this was the era.'
At this point in time, the massive wave of rap competition shows had kicked off a golden age of hip-hop. High school boys especially had been obsessed with it.
"Hmm."
He'd sung a lot back in his Kabukicho days.
By 2025, the Korean Wave was at its peak.
Japanese customers who knew he was Korean had him sing K-pop idol songs all the time, and when they found out he was good, they'd request popular Japanese songs too.
Even during champagne calls — when a customer placed a champagne order and all the hosts would rush over to celebrate — they'd make each host sing a line or two.
"Oh, who's this — 'Gwanghwamun, where are you?'"
"Me."
Ji-hoon took the mic from his friend.
"Ahem."
'Honestly.'
This wasn't a club where he had to sell himself. This was a fun afternoon at karaoke with friends. Why was he clearing his throat like he was about to perform? At least his voice had finished changing — that was something to be grateful for.
"….."
The unspoken rule at karaoke with guys was to skip the bridge, but Ji-hoon had momentarily forgotten.
Not that anyone here knew him well enough to say anything about it.
"Ahem."
"Hm?"
Ji-hoon began to sing.
He'd found the song by searching the karaoke catalog, but he remembered it — one of his designated regulars had loved this song, and he'd sung it for her a few times.
While he sang, everyone listened. No one fooled around.
"Mm-hmm."
Ji-hoon finished and cleared his throat.
This was before he'd driven himself to obsessively train his voice for competitive reasons, so his vocal cords were still fresh and unworked.
"Wow, you're actually really good?"
"Was Ji-hoon always this good at singing?"
"Thought you were a singer for a second."
"A singer, please."
As his friends offered their reactions, Ji-hoon gave a small smile.
'Singing's nothing.'
He knew himself that he sang reasonably well. Not at a level where he'd ever try to become a professional, but still.
"Oh?"
And then something struck him — a sudden flash in the middle of all this. He'd been turning over the question of how to make money this whole time.
"I need to use the bathroom real quick."
"Oh!"
Slide.
Ji-hoon pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway. He needed a moment to think.
'At this point in time…'
One of the ideas he'd been turning over was NeTube. He hadn't been able to figure out what kind of videos he could make, and he didn't want his face out there, so nothing had come together — but.
August 2015. NeTube was still in its growth phase in Korea. And over the next few years, it would climb steeply and without pause.
'Normally it'd be tough, but.'
By 2025, even active mainstream artists were all running singing content on NeTube. AI-generated music had become a trend too.
But 2015 was a different story.
And then there was his Japanese.
Singing ability combined with Japanese fluency — what could that add up to?
"….."
He'd do what he could to prevent it, but in his previous life, his mother's health had deteriorated sharply around the winter break of 2016. She'd been taking on extra shifts at the call center, piling on overtime to make ends meet.
He needed to move fast — within a year, at minimum, he had to be earning enough to support a household of three in Seoul. Urgency didn't always produce results, so he'd been trying to give himself a little breathing room, but now that an idea had surfaced, his mind was running at full speed.
Ji-hoon stood in the hallway, thinking.
'How much would equipment cost? What about video editing? Could I buy everything as soon as I got my first paycheck?'
"Oh?"
"….Hm?"
Someone stopped walking in the middle of his thoughts.
"Oh? Hey."
"Um, hi…"
Ji-hoon greeted her warmly.
A girl in uniform with blonde hair.
Kang Da-hyeon.
At that moment, the girls behind her noticed Ji-hoon too. They seemed to be in the same group. None of them were in Ji-hoon's class.
"Lots of people come here, huh?"
"Uh, yeah…"
Da-hyeon stumbled over her words and just nodded.
'I sat right behind her in first year and I barely registered her existence.'
Searching through his memories of his previous life, it had been nothing more than exchanging nods when their eyes met. In truth, there had been a few exchanges — do you have an eraser, what's next period — but none of it had stuck.
"Da-hyeon, what's going on?"
"Who's that?"
"Wow."
"….."
The girls behind her crowded over toward Ji-hoon and Da-hyeon. They all had makeup on, and their uniforms were fitted close.
One girl with a short bob and clumsy eye makeup stared up at Ji-hoon with a slightly dazed expression.
"Come on, let's go."
"Huh?"
And just like that, Da-hyeon pushed through the group and walked off.
"What was that about?"
Ji-hoon tilted his head. He hadn't realized it before, but Da-hyeon seemed like someone who didn't say much.
"Anyway, that's not what I should be thinking about right now."
Slide.
He had a lead now. No need to rush.
"Aaaahhh!"
Whoosh.
The boys' chaotic singing echoed through the room.
Ji-hoon opened the door and stepped back in, returning to his role as a perfectly ordinary first-year high school student.