The lunch rush coincided perfectly with the leaderboard being finally unveiled. Suho saw a notification pop up on his watch at the same time as everybody else. In the lunch line and outside of it, there was a mix of reactions. Most seemed to have gotten ranks within their expectations. And anyway, they still 5 days left to keep hunting. Suho only got time to look once the lunch service was over. As Jihyuk oversaw the dishwashers, he took a seat on a folding chair he’d bought from the store the first day and opened the leaderboard.

A holographic window was projected from his smartwatch, showing the top 10 ranks by default. As expected: Sunghyun was #1 and Yuna was #2. Suho’s eyes scanned downwards, and then he clicked to the next page.

His name was listed at #12. He took it quietly in. It was high, but kind of in a vague zone. Maybe this was why Kitae had wanted to go off on his own, with no disruptions. Suho should've been grateful to nearly be in the top 10, but he didn't know if this was the best he could do.

His point value was 820. It was considerably high, due to the people paying him for food. He only needed 100 to pass the exam. He was basically guaranteed to get a perfect score.

Yeah, he should've been grateful.

For some reason, he didn't know how to feel about it.

“Suho,” Jihyuk called, making his way over. “Have you checked the leaderboard?”

Suho nodded.

“Congrats,” he said, sitting on the stump of a trunk beside him. “Rank 12 is great. I’m tied for rank 98.”

He pulled a face, trying to joke about it. But Suho didn't even humor him with half a laugh like he usually did.

“Is something up?” he asked.

“…Do you know anyone named Ma Woojin?”

That name didn't ring a bell. It certainly wasn't anybody in his classes. But then he remembered—

“Oh, wait!”

He opened the leaderboard window on his watch and scrolled through the pages. And there it was.

Below his name and the person he was tied with at rank 98, was rank 100:

Ma Woojin.

“He’s ranked #100,” Jihyuk said.

Suho leaned over to see. Surely enough, his name was there. Jihyuk had collected 77 points in the last five days, and he was slowly racking up more in his free time between meals. He’d make 100 points no problem, especially since food was taken care of. Woojin was close behind at 76, but based on what Suho had seen…

He had really struggled for it. Yet he’d never come to camp to eat, or else Suho would've recognized his face. Woojin definitely knew where the camp was. And he’d been hanging around it, possibly for safety in numbers when he was resting. But he refused to be a part of it.

“Did you meet him?” Jihyuk asked, closing the leaderboard.

“Yeah,” Suho replied, “when I was gathering the rabbits. He was having some trouble, so I was worried.”

He subconsciously flinched at that. He knew that it was only a half-truth. Something about the meeting bothered him, and it wasn't just the swearing.

“Well I’m sure he’ll be okay,” Jihyuk said. “We’re always gonna be here, anyway.”

“…Yeah.”

Suho didn't feel that his heart was in it. He surveyed the people sitting around the clearing—chatting with each other, having a meal, taking a break from adversity for a second. He liked helping them. He liked helping people in general. He saw himself as the person who would volunteer first to do the difficult thing for everyone.

…

Was that really true?

KOREAN NATIONAL ACADEMY MIDTERM EXAM (SPRING)

DAY 7 OF 10

The days passed. Woojin kept hanging around the edges of camp, but never coming closer. Jihyuk finally hit 100 points and swore off hunting for the rest of the exam, since Suho let him eat free in return for organizing the camp. Woojin lagged behind at around 80 points.

Suho checked his own score. He had recently crossed 1700 and crawled up to 9th place. But it didn't make him happy. Something had started weighing on his mind ever since he met Woojin, though they hadn't spoken at all afterwards. And the longer he spent at this camp, the harder it was to ignore.

He couldn't put his finger on it—why he had this vague discomfort. But he couldn't leave it anymore.

After the dinner rush, Suho spotted Woojin lingering on the edge of camp again, resting against a tree. He got up and headed for him.

Woojin noticed him, seemed to curse to himself, and disappeared into the forest. That didn't stop Suho. He tracked him through the brush by sound. Most camp members had already stopped hunting for the day, since darkness had fallen. The only ones still out were the two of them.

He finally caught up with Woojin, or rather, Woojin had given up and let Suho catch up to him.

He glared as their eyes met.

“What the fuck do you want?” he asked.

Suho actually hadn't thought that far. He wasn't exactly sure why he had followed him here at all. Just that something was weighing on his mind.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“I, uh, I still owe you your points back,” he said, making a quick excuse.

“From the rabbits you stole from me?”

Suho nodded.

“I’ll send the points now, so please accept them.”

That only made Woojin even angrier. His expression crumpled, jaw tight with tension.

“I said I don't fucking want them,” he said.

“But I owe you—”

“Shut up!”

Woojin finally exploded.

“Who put you in charge?! Why are you out here deciding for all of us?!” he shouted. “You’ve got everything you need, and now you’re out here trying to be everyone’s boss. You’re not. You're the same as all of us.”

“That—” Suho was taken aback for a second. “I’ve never tried to be different from you—”

Woojin scoffed.

“You’re out here lording over everyone,” he said, “ladling out soup like you’re doing us a great favor. What are we, peasants who need your help? You’re so fucking condescending. I’m out here busting my ass just trying to pass. You’re not even hunting, and you’re in fucking 9th place!”

He was gritting his teeth so hard that Suho could see veins pop up on his neck.

“Did you think we’d be the same?” he asked. “Yeah, I’m an orphan too, so what! I’m barely scraping by, and you’re destined to be some top star. You’re just like the rest of them, looking down on us regular people from above. Do you think we need your handouts? Did you think I’d be grateful?”

Suho’s mind was racing. Had he been acting like that? Had he been treating people as if they were in need of him? Had he…

It was like lightning had struck in his head. Suho understood where that strange discomfort had been coming from now.

Woojin was right. He had been automatically thinking of people as weaker than him, without knowing a thing. The moment he met the other students, he had had the compulsion to help them out.

As if they couldn't do it themselves. As if he was the only person who could.

“S-sorry,” Suho replied, still a mess of thoughts. “I didn't realize…”

Woojin snorted.

“Of course you didn't,” he said. “You don't think about us.”

Despite how rude he was being, Suho couldn't recall a time when Woojin’s words didn't apply. He was right. He could try and reason that his behavior was out of habit, that nobody else in his village had been able to fight off the monsters before, so of course he’d be the one in charge of doing it—but that was all an excuse.

The situation had changed, and he should've changed his thinking too. These weren't weak elders. Everyone here was not only above average, but the top of the country in hunting.

“Sorry,” Suho said again. “I’ll go.”

“Please.”

Suho turned and headed back the way he came, feeling Woojin’s critical gaze following him. He marched right past camp, heading down to the stream where students had been collecting their fresh water, only stopping when the campfires were reduced to tiny lights flickering in the distance like candles.

Away from the population, it was quiet. He let out a breath he didn't know he’d been holding. The bubbling of water calmed the conflicting ideas in his head a degree. Suho sat down on a rock by the stream’s mossy bank and put his face in his hands.

He missed home. His mountains. His trees. It was the place he’d spent a decade of his life fighting monsters, living on the literal knife’s edge of safety and danger—but it was also the place where he’d spent a decade of his life laying in the grass and staring at the stars. The village had always been more about peace than peril. In the city, there were so many people, so many perspectives, so many problems…

He didn't know how to be the kind of person that was needed here.

It was chipping away at everything he had always believed. And now he was starting to wonder—

Did he really enjoy helping people?

Or was he just used to doing it?

Suho had never had the choice to not be the one taking care of everything. Maybe he wasn't actually a generous, good person. Maybe he was just going through the motions because he didn’t know how to be anyone else.

“Suho?” Jihyuk called, ducking through the trees. “What are you doing out here?”

He had come to refill the water buckets, lugging them by hand. Suho looked over at him, quiet for a moment, then finally parted his lips.

“I’m thinking about leaving,” he said.

“What?! Did something happen?”

Jihyuk looked at him with concern. The expression on Suho’s face wasn't good. For the first time, he looked tired.

“It’s nothing,” he replied. “I just realized I didn't mean for things to end up like this.”

He’d come into the midterm with the intention to hunt as many monsters as he could and do his best. Settling in place, making meals for others… that had never been part of the plan. He’d gotten sidetracked by something he’d thought he had to do, for everyone’s sake.

He’d gone and decided what was best for the people around him, as if he could possibly have known. Lim Suho was just a student too. No different from everyone else.

“You can run the camp by yourself,” he said. “It’s basically functioning on its own anyway. You don't need me here.”

Jihyuk stared at him, mouth parted, speechless. Logically, he wasn’t wrong. For every step of the equation, he could be replaced with other people, now that the system was already well-oiled. But why had he suddenly changed his mind?

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “This place is centered around you. Without you it would never have—”

“No. I don't want that.”

Suho had never aimed to be the leader of anything. Why had he assumed the role as if it was natural?

“I don't need to be here anymore, so I’m going to go,” he said. “If you don't want to deal with it either, then you can disband the camp or leave it to someone else. That’s how it was supposed to be, anyway.”

He’d made up his mind. He couldn't stay. And it wasn't just Woojin’s words that had spurred him to think that.

Sunghyun was still in first place in the rankings, easily taking the spot. Suho sat at 9th, sometimes moving down to 10th.

He had acted like the person who was in charge, but in reality he was the one falling behind. What kind of hunting student didn't hunt?

“You’re really going to go?” Jihyuk asked.

“Yeah.”

“…I see.”

He knew from the look on Suho’s face that he had already made up his mind.

“Then, when are you leaving?”

“As soon as I get my stuff packed.”

It was really starting to set in, that Jihyuk would have to run the camp without Suho soon. He could make it work, but… a tiny part of him wanted to cling on like some weirdly desperate hamster grabbing onto its owner’s finger. Wherever Suho went, it was a guarantee that things would work out. But he wasn't an animal.

“Okay,” Jihyuk said. “Thank you for everything.”

He sent him a smile.

“Good luck, Suho.”

Suho met his gaze. He was quiet for a second, then nodded.

“Thank you, Jihyuk.”

“That’s what friends do, help each other.”

Jihyuk picked up his buckets and headed towards the stream.

“I’ll see you around, then.”

“…Yeah.”

Suho watched him move to fill the water. Part of Suho didn't want to leave. That part of him was telling him to find proof that he really did like helping others, and that being here was where he belonged. That he wasn't actually wrong about the way he acted. But then he remembered Jun’s words, back when the village elders were still trying to convince him to go to school.

— Everything I know and love is right here.

— And everything you could know and could love is out there.

The comfort of something like home was tempting. But he couldn't live in a bubble forever. No matter how foreign it felt to him, he’d have to try doing something different at least once.

Suho returned to camp to pack.