Transmigrated as the Side Top used as an Emotional Trash Can

“Jayoon-ah, did we wake you up?”

I took advantage of the situation to quietly slip away and sat down beside Kwon Jayoon. If I stayed here, they probably wouldn’t pester me to play anymore.

“Yeah, you were fucking loud as shit. If you’re gonna play, keep it down.”

He swore at them, but he didn’t tell them to stop playing.

From what I had seen of Kwon Jayoon, he was docile as long as no one messed with him first, wore his uniform properly, and didn’t skip class either.

“We’ll be careful from now on. Don’t yell at the guys.”

“Do whatever.”

For all his swagger, he had a diligent side to him. You could say he was showing signs of turning over a new leaf.

“What did you do that made you so tired?”

“Part-time job.”

“Part-time job? I do deliveries sometimes too. What do you do?”

Kwon Jayoon had been about to go back to sleep, but his eyes suddenly flew open as though I had startled him, and he looked at me.

“You do deliveries? Why?”

“It’s good to earn money while you can. Money can be there one moment and gone the next.”

Kwon Jayoon liked talking about money. No, rather than liking it, he seemed to have a lot to say about it. So getting his interest was easy.

“One time, I made a delivery to this place, but the person who ordered had fallen asleep and couldn’t receive the food. They’d selected pay-on-delivery too.”

I struck up a conversation for no real reason and started pulling out an old story. Kwon Jayoon seemed interested, because he propped his chin on his hand, turned toward me, and started responding.

“What, so did you call customer service? If they don’t take the food, that’s the customer’s fault.”

“Yeah, I knew that, but I was hungry, so I paid for it myself and ate it. Hiding in the apartment stairwell.”

Kwon Jayoon gave me a dumbfounded look, then scrunched up his face and snickered. Scrunching his face seemed to be a habit of his. Happy, scrunch. Angry, scrunch. He always furrowed his brow fiercely.

“What was it? A sandwich?”

“No, jokbal and makguksu. A large order, so I blew everything I earned that day.”

“Ah, are you actually fucking insane-!”

I found myself hoping his face would smooth out. Putting tension into your face was work too, and work made you tired.

“What part-time job did you have?”

“At a barbecue place. The grills are fucking hot and slippery.”

Kwon Jayoon rolled up his sleeve and showed me the burns on his forearm from the grills and charcoal.

“The owner’s got a fucking nasty temper. He’s a gym rat too, so his farts smell fucking awful. Because he eats so much protein.”

“Doesn’t he eat carbs?”

“Doesn’t seem like it. That’s probably why his personality is such shit. Even when we eat, he makes a huge fucking fuss about refusing to eat white rice….”

As I looked at the burns on his forearm, I noticed a scar farther inside and ran my hand over it. Then I was the one who startled myself after touching him first, and I glanced at Kwon Jayoon for his reaction. Was he upset because I touched him without permission?

“…….”

Kwon Jayoon didn’t say anything about what I did. Without being able to tell what he was thinking, my eyes remained on the scar.

An old-looking knife wound. The long mark, as if something sharp had sliced through him, looked as vivid as though it had been carved there yesterday.

“This kind of looks like a tiger stripe.”

I smiled, hoping my words wouldn’t sound like pity. Kwon Jayoon scrunched up his face again. Still, he didn’t look offended.

I didn’t know exactly what had happened, but was this the scar he had wanted to get rid of back in the creepypasta? It was in a spot that wasn’t even very visible, but apparently it bothered him quite a bit.

“Tiger stripe, my ass. It’s still just torn flesh.”

“Come on-.”

I replied lightly while thinking about Kwon Jayoon’s future in the original novel. Could people change? Could the person you are now grow into a decent adult because of me?

“Having a scar means you overcame the wound, doesn’t it?”

What your future becomes will ultimately depend on you. So all I can do is believe in you.

I believe that the you of today has choices, and that not every moment has to remain as a scar.

“It’s cool, Jayoon-ah.”

Don’t get hurt, and grow up well.

READ ONLY AT VANISHINTOFICTION.COM

* * *

READ ONLY AT VANISHINTOFICTION.COM

It had gotten cold enough that we seriously had to bundle up.

It was the season when even the kids who had been choosing between fleece jackets and short padded jackets according to preference mostly gave in and stuck to long padded coats.

“This is driving me insane. If I could just shave off one second.”

After evening Swimming Club practice, we all raided a convenience store together, and one guy lowered his head and muttered.

“Ah, the competition? Is it six days away now?”

“I’m seriously losing it. It’s an individual event, so my heart’s fucking pounding.”

Ding-!

“Cut the bullshit, and if you’re done heating the hot bar, take it out. I need to melt my cheese.”

The guy who had looked depressed took the hot bar out of the microwave and chewed on it with the same gloomy expression.

He was the type who liked exercising well enough and was competitive too, but his stamina dropped quickly, so he lacked what you might call staying power.

“Should I dope?”

The guy, who had been cooling his steaming hot bar in the winter air, suddenly brought up doping.

“Doping, my ass. Your head’s fucking spinning.”

“What are you, a national athlete? Why would you do something that fucking stupid?”

The guys kept busily stuffing themselves with snacks while tearing into the one who had mentioned doping. Even so, the guy worried about his performance only stared blankly at the floor as though he couldn’t hear them.

Eventually, I couldn’t stand watching anymore and said something.

“I heard that stuff makes it so you can’t get it up.”

Silence.

So the guys on the sports teams actually were capable of being this quiet. It was so silent I felt like I had joined the Library Club instead of the Swimming Club.

Ding-!

The microwave chimed, and as if waking from hypnosis, the guys started murmuring again.

“You’re gonna burn your sperm just to shave off one second?”

“Too far, fuuuck, way too fucking far, sooooo fucking far.”

“Dad… why did you do that to me…?”

Even the guy who had mentioned doping looked like the thought had completely left his mind. He shuddered and said he would rather just come in last.

“PC-bang after we eat?”

“Saint B, you coming? You’re not skipping again today?”

Normally, I would have refused and gone home around now. This was usually when I sat leisurely on a park bench and passed the time. But lately, things were a little different.

“I’ll go. I need to practice the game.”

I’m not about to sit there and take it after being called a gaming noob.

T/N: A PC-bang is a type of internet café in Korea that offers equipment mostly catered to multi-player gaming. People can even order food like ramyeon and snacks right at their stations.