Later, after school, the trio headed to Jae-Hyun's house. The mood was lighter now, laughter bubbling up as they recounted their guesses and theories about the paper planes and the school ghost, careful not to dramatize it too much in front of anyone else.
"Imagine if it really is a ghost," Tae-Ho said, chuckling, "just plotting to spook students with paper planes."
Jae-Suk snorted. "Yeah, right. A ghost with a paper plane obsession."
Jae-Hyun smiled. "If it is a ghost, I hope it's smart enough to know not to interfere with homework or exams."
They all laughed at that. Once they reached the house, they greeted Jae-Hyun's mother and sister, chatting briefly about their day while checking in about small household tasks. Eun-Ji called out an order to Jae-Hyun before darting off to help a customer, and the trio laughed as they dodged around the restaurant.
Finally, they went upstairs to Jae-Hyun's room, still laughing lightly at the day's events. As they settled in, Jae-Hyun tilted his head, studying Tae-Ho.
"By the way," he said casually, "what does your dad do?"
Tae-Ho blinked in surprise. "Why?" he asked, glancing at Jae-Suk, who gave him a sharp look.
"Just curious," Jae-Hyun replied, smiling faintly.
Jae-Suk narrowed his eyes slightly, suspicious.
"Why? You planning secret meetings with my dad too?" Tae-Ho teased, shrugging, and the room erupted in laughter.
Jae-Hyun chuckled. "No, just curious. You seem to handle things well. I wanted to know what kind of guidance you get at home."
Tae-Ho leaned back. "Well… my dad works for an investment company. He's really skilled in analyzing market trends, managing risks, evaluating portfolio performance, and optimizing financial strategies. He's also good at negotiating deals and predicting market shifts before they happen."
Jae-Hyun raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. Sounds like he's meticulous and strategic."
"Yeah," Tae-Ho said, smiling. "He really is. He's strict but fair, and he teaches me a lot about thinking ahead."
Jae-Suk nudged him playfully. "Looks like you've got a lot of secret tips from your dad, huh?"
Tae-Ho grinned. "Maybe a little. But I won't use them to beat you in math tests."
The three of them laughed again, the conversation flowing naturally. They talked about their classes, joked about the school ghost, and speculated on who could be behind the paper plane mystery. Jae-Hyun listened quietly, occasionally adding a witty remark or teasing observation, his calm composure making him seem older than his years but still approachable.
After a while, Tae-Ho nudged Jae-Suk and gave Jae-Hyun a sly grin."So… are you ever going to say yes?"
Jae-Hyun blinked. "To what?"
"The basketball team," Tae-Ho said, exasperated. "Seo Ji-Woon's been after you for weeks. You'd make the team unstoppable. Everyone knows it."
Jae-Suk leaned in, clearly on Tae-Ho's side. "You're tall, fast, and your reflexes are insane. We saw how you dodged those paper planes like you had eyes on the back of your head."
Jae-Hyun chuckled. "That was luck."
"Luck?" Tae-Ho scoffed. "No one's that lucky. Ji-Woon said the team's desperate for someone who can read plays as fast as you can. You'd be perfect!"
"I'm not interested," Jae-Hyun said simply, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. His tone wasn't harsh—just calm, immovable, like he'd rehearsed this line before.
"Yeah, yeah, you always say that," Jae-Suk muttered. "But seriously, why? You'd get a ton of attention. Colleges, maybe even sponsorships. It's not like you hate the game."
"I don't," Jae-Hyun admitted, eyes thoughtful. "I just don't need it right now."
Tae-Ho frowned. "That's not an answer. What do you mean by 'need'? You sound like an old man giving up on dreams."
A small smile tugged at Jae-Hyun's lips. "Maybe I just don't like chasing things everyone else wants."
"Wow," Jae-Suk groaned. "So philosophical. Can't you just say, 'I'm lazy' like a normal person?"
They burst out laughing, the tension breaking. Tae-Ho tossed a pillow at Jae-Hyun, which he caught effortlessly without even looking.
"See?" Tae-Ho said. "You have to join. That kind of reflex is wasted on homework."
Jae-Hyun smirked. "Homework doesn't try to dunk on me."
"Oh, but Ji-Woon will," Jae-Suk teased. "He's not gonna stop asking until you give in. Half the cafeteria was talking about it today."
Tae-Ho nodded. "Yeah. Even the girls from Class 2C were like, 'If Jae-Hyun joins, I'm suddenly a basketball fan.'"
Jae-Hyun groaned softly. "All the more reason not to join."
They all laughed again, but the air held an unspoken weight. His friends didn't press further; they knew when Jae-Hyun's quiet meant "not now."
By the time the conversation wound down, the mood was light and warm. They had solved no mysteries, uncovered no secrets—but the day had brought them closer together, shared a thrill, and planted the seeds of their next adventures.
As dusk deepened outside, the streetlights flickered on, casting soft gold through the curtains. They played a few rounds of a mobile game, argued about snacks, and eventually packed up for the evening.
Tae-Ho slung on his backpack. "Alright, philosopher. Think about it, okay? You'd be amazing out there."
"I'll think about it," Jae-Hyun said with a faint smile, though his tone made it sound like a polite dismissal.
"Which means he won't," Jae-Suk muttered.
Jae-Hyun laughed lightly, walking them to the door. "Get home safe."
"See you tomorrow, ghost hunter," Tae-Ho said as they left, waving.
When the house finally quieted, the laughter faded into the soft clatter of dishes downstairs and the faint hum of the restaurant below. Jae-Hyun leaned against his desk, gaze distant.
"Jae-Hyun?"
His mother's voice floated from the hallway.
He straightened. "Yes, Mom?"
"Come downstairs for a moment."
He descended to find her wiping the counter, the warm scent of broth still lingering in the air. She looked up with a gentle smile that didn't quite hide the concern in her eyes.
"I overheard your friends talking earlier," she said softly. "About the basketball team."
Jae-Hyun paused, meeting her gaze. "You heard that?"
She nodded. "You've turned down the offer several times, haven't you?"
He hesitated, then exhaled slowly. "Yeah."
"Why?" she asked, her tone careful, not demanding—just curious, motherly. "You love the game. I've seen how your eyes light up when you watch a match on TV. You're good at it, too. It could open doors for you."
Jae-Hyun's lips curved faintly, though his eyes stayed distant. "That was then," he said quietly. "Not anymore."
She tilted her head slightly.
"It's just… become boring," he continued, his voice even, thoughtful. "I've already mastered the moves. I can predict how most players move before they even act. Without tough opponents, it's not exciting—it's just repetition. Like solving a puzzle you've already memorized."
His mother studied him, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening. "Then you definitely should join," she said firmly. "Playing in the upcoming competitions will help you meet players who'll actually challenge you. You'll find that spark again. And besides…" she smiled knowingly, "I'm sure you still love the game. You wouldn't talk about it that way if you didn't."
He blinked, then let out a small breath that was almost a laugh. "Maybe I do," he admitted quietly.
Her gaze warmed. "Then don't let it die just because it's too easy right now."
He looked down at his hands, flexing them as if remembering the texture of a basketball. "It's not that I don't want to play," he said after a pause. "It's just… when something becomes expected of you, it changes. People stop seeing the joy, and start seeing the performance. And then it's not yours anymore."
His mother's expression softened further. "You think joining means losing control."
He nodded slightly. "It's easy to play when no one's watching. It's different when everyone wants something from you. Expectations turn into chains. And I don't want to hate something I love just because the world decides it should define me."
For a long moment, she said nothing. Then she stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You're right. But hiding your light won't stop people from wanting to see it. You can't control what they expect—only what you give. And if what you give is true, it stays yours."
Jae-Hyun looked up, his calm composure wavering just slightly.
But before he could respond, she continued, her tone softer now, thoughtful.
"Jae-Hyun, you've been so focused lately—on NovaSec, your projects, your goals. You work like you're racing against time."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she went on gently, "There's more to life than building and achieving. Don't pour all of yourself into one corner of the world and forget to live in the rest of it. Life's too short for that."
She smiled faintly. "Someday, you won't have the time—or the chance—to feel the thrill of a high school competition, or the laughter of your friends cheering you on. Enjoy it while you can. You can always build more companies later, but you can't rebuild time."
Her words lingered in the quiet.
Jae-Hyun's eyes softened. "You think I should join."
She smiled, tired but warm. "I think you should stop trying to live invisible. You're too brilliant to hide, Jae-Hyun. Some people will actually understand you… if you let them."
He didn't reply right away. Then he whispered, "Alright. I'll think about it."
"You always say that," she teased gently.
This time, though, his tone shifted—quiet, but certain. "No. I mean it."
She smiled wider, patting his arm. "Good. Now, help me close up the restaurant before your sister eats all the leftover stew."
Jae-Hyun laughed softly, the heaviness easing from his shoulders. "Deal."