Remember The Name Chapter 64

The cheers of the crowd, the music from the speakers, the whirring of engines from pa.s.sing cars. None of these noises were enough to dissipate the heavy air in the cla.s.sroom. The sound of a balloon popping echoed through the cla.s.s, likely from a nice, clean shot in the soccer field, or perhaps from an actual balloon. But the source of the sound was of little importance to the people in the cla.s.sroom, and no one even batted an eye.

Some of the children, unaware of how serious the situation was, were thrilled, as if they were watching a movie. Others who were emotionally invested in the situation (mainly the girls) glared at each other as if they were about to throw knives across the room.

As for Hyejin, who had no idea that her rival was currently deep in thought about romance, she had had enough of the arrogant little boy standing in her way. He couldn't be allowed to continue on like this.

“What I want,” she spoke at last, “is for Yurim and Eunjin to beg for my forgiveness. On their knees.”

Had he lost the chance to persuade her after all? Lucid regretted waiting for her to speak. No matter how much he considered it, her request was nothing more than an attempt to start a fight again. Lucid tried to think of things he could say to counter her.

“Have you ever apologized on your knees?” Was the first option. If it's hard for you, then it's hard for anyone. That was the point he would be making with this option, but it had too much risk of hurting Hyejin's pride again.

Option two was, “If they apologize, will you let it go?” But this was a no-go, no questions asked. It would hurt Yurim's pride, and it would make sound as if Yurim was below everyone else. But he had no more time to waste, so he connected all his thoughts and chose his words carefully.

“What should they apologize about?” he asked at last. They were back to square one. Why are you angry? Why are you fighting? In the end, this was all about the cause of the fight.

“Don't you know?”

“I don't.”

“So why are you b.u.t.ting in?”

“I told you, I don't want to see you two fight. Can't you talk it out?”

“No, we can't.”

“Of course you can. Everything can be solved by talking it out, whether it's here in the cla.s.sroom or out in society. If we all started throwing fists because we thought violence is better than conversation, everyone would be out in the streets, fighting each other.”

That's what Ki-woong had taught him, and Lucid had understood this well enough. That was why he was here now, putting what he had learned to practice.

“Stop being stubborn.” Hyejin snapped back.

“You're the one being stubborn. You're the strongest one in our cla.s.s, but if you try to solve everything with violence, what happens when someone stronger comes? If they use violence against you to get what they want, do you think you'd be able to accept that?”

“…”

“The basics of conversation are speaking and understanding,” Lucid continued, not waiting for an answer, “I'm trying to understand you through conversation, and you are also getting the chance to understand me. I still don't know why you're so angry, but if I could understand you by talking you, maybe I could find out. And if I understand why you're angry, I could even side with you. That means you'd have one more person on your side.”

Hyejin looked into Lucid's eyes, still refusing to speak. They were clear and determined, looking right back at her. It was a strange thing. Just earlier, she was furious beyond imaging, but the more she listened to the boy, the more she felt herself calm down. She didn't feel like answering him, and she didn't feel like getting angry again just for the sake of it. Still, she had heard him well enough. He had said he wanted to understand her. He was trying his best to do so. She was sure of it. Maybe geniuses really are different.

“Fine. You can stop now.”

“?”

Lucid stared at her, unsure of what she meant, but Hyejin turned around and made her way through the circle of students. As they all wondered what was happening, she left the cla.s.sroom. The children began to speak among themselves for a bit, and as the murmuring grew to fill the cla.s.s, they all returned to their seats.

The fight was over.

As Lucid stared at where Hyejin had been standing, dumbfounded by what had happened, he realized he was still holding Yurim's arm.

“Are you okay?” He asked, quickly letting go of her.

Why wouldn't I be? Would have been a reasonable enough answer given all that had happened, but Yurim turned bright red.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” she muttered as she returned to her seat.

Lucid looked at her for a moment and took his seat by the window, thinking back on the conversation he'd just had. The fight had ended, yes, but he wasn't at all satisfied. Hyejin hadn't been convinced by his words. She'd just grown tired of the situation. That was the truth of it. He had asked her for a proper conversation and she had refused, and he still had no idea why the fight had started in the first place. He hadn't been able to persuade her, and he hadn't been able to really put an end to the fight.

“Conversations are difficult,” he thought to himself.

All problems could be resolved through conversation. But if conversations were so difficult, solving disputes and conflicts wasn't such an easy solution after all. Violence truly was the easy way out.

He was back to square one again. Why choose the more difficult method over the easy way? Why refuse violence and choose conversation instead?

Maybe he would ask the teacher. The homeroom teacher was just now making her way into the cla.s.s, and she felt a chill down her spine for no apparent reason. But ignorance is bliss, and she would have to thank the stars that the children had math next period.

As soon as he returned to the inst.i.tute, Lucid went to find Ki-woong. Now that he was a third year in high school, Ki-woong was always studying. Lucid didn't like to waste his time on anything other than studying, so he tried his best to not waste Ki-woong's, but today's issue was of great importance to him. He couldn't not ask.

“There's something I'd like to ask.”

Ki-woong welcomed Lucid into his room, seemingly unbothered by the child's visit. He paid close attention to what Lucid said, and though he looked a bit perplexed, he didn't dismiss his words, rather thinking hard about what he should say.

“That's the most difficult question you've asked so far.”

“Why?”

“Because I've got a feeling this isn't just about conversations and violence.”

Lucid tilted his head to the side, unsure of what Ki-woong was talking about. The older boy found this to be rather endearing and smiled as he continued speaking.

“Well, let's start with conversations and violence for now. We've talked about this last year, I think. Huh. So this is a yearly thing. Anyway I'm going to talk from my own experience. All problems require a proper definition. In other words, we need to know exactly what the problem is to able to use logic and reasoning without misunderstandings. So let's define violence. What do you think violence is?”

“Hitting someone with your fists. Or kicking them. Isn't that what violence is?”

“Yes, we call that physical violence. Physical violence is hurting someone through actions. But sometimes we use the word “violence” to refer to something else. For example, if someone speaks ill of me. That includes belittling me or looking down on me, but the speaker's intentions are clearly there, aren't they?”

“Yes. I'm familiar with that.” Lucid spoke without a hint of emotion.

“That you did,” Ki-woong smiled bitterly, “and that can also be called violence. So words that are meant to suppress or restrain someone are all violence. This is what we call psychological violence. What you experienced today could have escalated to physical violence, but we're talking about conflict resolution, so we'll talk about both types.”

“Alright.”

“Let's also define conversation for now. What do you think a conversation is?”

“Communication between people?”

“That's pretty straightforward. Alright, let's think bigger. It is about communication, yes, but it's also about respecting the person you're talking to. If you talk to someone as if they're below you, that's not a conversation, that's a fight.”

“That's true,” Lucid nodded, thinking back on what had happened. Had he respected Hyejin?

“So we'll define conversation as communication between people with mutual respect. So now we move on to violence. Why should we resolve conflicts through conversation instead of violence? On this point, I do admit I am a bit biased.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if we were to think about society and its progress, violence can never be an option. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?”

“Sort of.” Indeed, it was a bit hard to fully grasp, but all his reading had paid off. In short, violence should be eradicated from society.

“So, all conflicts must be solved through conversation. That's the proposition, and it's an absolute must.”

Perhaps the stress of being in the graduating cla.s.s really was getting to Ki-woong. At first, he had done his best to explain things in a way Lucid could understand, as an elementary schooler, but here he was now, adding increasingly difficult words that were more likely to be used in an essay than in conversation with a child.

“But there are conditions to this. If we were to follow our definition of a conversation, then all parties must be on equal standing. That's the only way to achieve mutual respect, which means all parties are more willing to listen to each other. If positions are different, and there is an up and a down, then a conversation cannot be had. It turns into a one-sided speech or lecture, or even a scolding. This is what happens between parents and children, or teachers and students.”

For the next thirty minutes, Lucid listened to Ki-woong explain about the importance and necessity of conversation. He thanked the older boy for his time and returned to his room, throwing himself on the bed.

If what Ki-woong had said was true, then conversation really was the only way to solve conflicts. However, violence was still an option. That was the way of the other world, a way Lucid was familiar with. In that world, conflicts could be resolved through peaceful means, but it wasn't always possible.

First of all, it was hard for all parties to be on equal standing. There were knights and commoners, guards and thieves, innkeepers and drunkards. Who could truly be on equal standing in such a society? How could you have proper conversation with such people? They would just take out their knives or bats first.

But what about this world? Even today, he had realized that he hadn't truly conversed with Hyejin. That didn't mean violence had been used, but perhaps that had been a matter of time. Who knows what could have happened if he had said something wrong and hurt her pride?

In the past, Lucid had used his magic to hurt Dong-in. If he were to follow Ki-woong's words, he should have tried to talk to Dong-in. However, Ki-woong had been too idealistic, as the conflict between Lucid and Dong-in had been too great to be resolved with words. They had been at the peak of their animosity, each ready to hurt the other. If either of them had offered to solve things by talking it out, would the other have accepted?

Lucid remembered the thought that had occurred to him earlier in the day. The most efficient way to solve problems.

Between violence and conversation, which was the most efficient?

End.