After school, Ketto went home as quickly as possible. On the way, his mind replayed everything—all the embarrassing moments from the day. It felt like a disaster had befallen him. He sincerely hoped these things would stop haunting him. Never again.
As for the man he had encountered in the shower room—the one whose entire body, including his private parts, he had inadvertently seen—Ketto desperately hoped that man would forget him. He knew he hadn't done it on purpose, but it had happened, and there was no taking it back. If time could rewind, he wished everything could be set right, and none of this would have happened.
Then there was the other thing weighing on him: he had offended Hanky. He hadn't meant to say those harsh words; they had come out without thinking. Now he didn't know how to fix things. His life felt like a tangled bundle of wires, and he had no idea how to untie them. He sighed many times on the way home.
Even though the weather was beautiful, he couldn't bring himself to enjoy it.
In the days that followed, Ketto made a conscious effort to avoid Hanky. He told himself the best way to stay out of trouble was to keep his distance. He also thought that disappearing from Hanky's sight might make Hanky feel better.
But Hanky had already moved on. He wasn't holding a grudge—he just hadn't had a chance to talk to Ketto. Besides, he wasn't the type to easily start a conversation. Ketto, however, was sensitive. He overthought everything and always assumed the worst.
Ketto became secretive. Every time class ended, he would vanish. No one knew where he went. But when the next class began, he would reappear right on time.
One day, Addy couldn't hold back his curiosity. "Ketto, where do you go during every break?"
Ketto shrugged. "I just wander around."
Addy found it strange—Ketto had never been the wandering type before—but he didn't press further.
The truth was, Ketto wandered aimlessly. He walked from the first floor all the way to the top of the seven-story building. It was tiring and tedious, but he didn't mind. As long as he could avoid Hanky, it was worth it.
Hanky didn't know where Ketto went, nor did he think much about it. He assumed Ketto had his own things to do.
During class, Ketto was serious and focused. He didn't glance in Hanky's direction. He buried himself in his studies, determined to improve his grades.
As time passed, the sharp edges of those memories began to fade. Ketto slowly stopped hiding. He stayed in the classroom during breaks and started talking with others again. He was still sensitive, but he was healing.
Hanky, meanwhile, had his own routine. He liked to stand outside, leaning against the railing. He was handsome, and despite his mischievous, playful nature, he often received love letters from girls. His good looks drew attention—even from some boys, though they admired him secretly.
Addy envied Hanky. He turned to Ketto one day and said, "Some people are so good-looking, they attract suitors without even trying."
Ketto didn't look up from his homework. "It's not just about looks. He has a strong build too. He's athletic—good at basketball and soccer. He's... manly." He paused, then added, "You know what it's called scientifically?"
Addy shrugged. "What?"
Ketto lifted his head. "Hormones. Male hormones."
Addy flexed his arm playfully. "What are you saying? Don't we have those too?"
Ketto just laughed.
When it came to rejecting confessions, Hanky was blunt. He didn't sugarcoat things or worry about hurting feelings. He simply said no. Some boys secretly enjoyed watching him reject the girls—if they couldn't have him, at least no one else could either. In their eyes, Hanky was the perfect boyfriend: sunny, youthful, and effortlessly charming.
The girls who were rejected would cry. Some gave up, but others didn't. They came back again and again, demanding to know why. And Hanky, direct as ever, would tell them exactly why.