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It was a widely known fact in their circle that even as Cale Henituse is theoretically the smartest guy in the room, he can also be the most oblivious and dense about his own self.
They’ve spent years together as their circle grew, hence why they naturally knew Cale more than himself. Hence why there are unspoken rules and guides for every situation you end up in with a Cale Henituse. Here’s a few, for starters:
When he says brevity is the soul of wit, it probably means that he wants you to shut your nonsensical crap and just get straight to the point.
When he starts to stare at your face but not quite on your face, it means he is losing focus and you need to shut your bull before he permanently zones out.
When he doesn’t stare at you, but his gaze keeps wandering to his phone, it means he wants to get the hell out of wherever part of hell he is.
When he does all of the above, you might want to take a hint and just get the hell out of there before he abruptly does. Save the shame and the conversation for later.
It’s similar to what’s happening right now: Choi Han observes (wow, that’s new) Cale’s expressions instead of listening to the obnoxious sunbae’s insufferable rant because it’s more entertaining to see Cale’s face contort with the most emotionless emotions. It’s a wonder how he does that, but Cale is magic.
The obnoxious sunbae’s been yapping for minutes without an end ever since he asked to meet up. Choi Han was positive Cale was inwardly grimacing, thinking of a million ways he could get Choi Han and him out of the sunbae’s 100 kilometer range.
“I just can’t understand, you know! I just asked for her number. My GPA’s not that bad either!” Uh oh, Choi Han thinks, this is the part where Cale probably makes a retort so burning it’ll humble the shameless sunbae. Inwardy, he would probably yell, ‘Your GPA is close to the number of winks I manage every night. One*.’ But Choi Han’s not that sure, because Cale’s much more creative than that when it comes to curses. Smart people are terrifying.
* = According to the US' GPA Scale
“Is that so, sunbae-nim?” Choi Han knew that tone. Very polite with hidden dripping sarcasm; that was a tone that screwed the highest levels of I-DON’T-GIVE-A-FUCK. Choi Han was ready to split them apart if a fight was to break out.
“Yeah, yeah. Even called my presentation slop. What's wrong with AI? Everyone uses it.” Not me, Cale would probabaly say. But that's only for Choi Han. He still couldn't begin to understand how smart people’s brains work.
Cale must be seething right now, because he's unusually silent with a blank smile. Cale stares at the sunbae straight ahead, like staring through his soul. If he could say ‘shut the fuck up’ (disgusted as ‘brevity is the soul of wit’), Cale would've said it from the very first minute of this pointless meeting. But alas, they are both younger and therefore have no rights whatsoever to say so.
Choi Han thinks that his English in his internal monologue is improving. Must be the effect of befriending a literature major.
“So! Isn't using AI better? It's quicker, too.” Cale grips his phone tight on his lap, and Choi Han could see some veins popping. Choi Han hears Cale laughing but it's dead, like the cry of a dying animal. Sunbae is an idiot if he doesn't get the hint.
Funnily enough, he actually doesn't. The time finally hits the one hour mark; Cale’s self-restraint was actually commendable. Who knows how he could put up with the sunbae’s non-stop blabbering.
Then, as if to prove Choi Han’s thoughts wrong, “I'm deeply sorry, sunbae-nim.” He abruptly stands up and flashes the sunbae the brightest scamming smile he can possibly muster, then walks out the door without looking back. Choi Han follows right behind him, bowing to the sunbae and leaving for his own good.
“Hey, hey…?” It's also for your own good, sunbae-nim.
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When Cale Henituse arrives at the national university without any ceremony except the loud presence of his hair styled into one big braid, no one says a thing about it. Not a thing about how it looks like it’s been done by someone who has not touched a single strand of hair in their life.
Naturally, Cale doesn’t say anything about it himself as no one asked.
When it started to gradually get better day by day, the glances at him got more and more curious. Of course. Was Cale the one styling his own hair, and if not, who did?
Nevertheless, a few established rules have been born due to this occurrence.
When he comes to the campus in a messy hairstyle, do not attempt to fix it, or you shall die by his hand.
Do not, in any circumstances, get near his hair. The hairstyle is presumably made by his family. Kids, maybe. The children that's in his phone lockscreen.
All statements in this section are purely hypotheses. They have no prior knowledge about it. He only comes to campus with hairstyles in afternoon to evening classes. Remember these rules to preserve Cale’s long loved peace, and yours.
If you ask Vicross, he's probably seen it a lot already. Cale used to take culinary lessons as a side thing along with his studies, so Vicross got to witness how much Cale was careful at putting his hair net in. The instructors kept nagging him because of it but soon gave up since Cale wouldn't ever budge.
The only thing Vicross knew about Cale’s hairstyles was that they were made by his family. But the Henituse household, as far as he knew, they weren't that close enough, and they lived in separate houses. Who knew what the eldest of the Henituse family was up to—it definitely wasn't him, and he could probably care less.
Those around him, though, was another case. They treated Cale’s mysteries homemade hairstyles like they were ARGs. They, who probably have better things to do as college students with a failing GPA, deciphered Cale’s actions as if he was a generational scandal.
Ruling out every possibility, the unestablished Cale detective group came to a conclusion.
His hair must be styled by a lot of people at once! A hypothetical partner, kids, and family!
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“Achoo!”
“Raon-ah, are you sick?”
“Nou- hachoo-! This mighty dragon never gets—achoo!—sick!”
Somewhere in Roan, the three musketeers, and an extra Cale Henituse are playing dress up. With stray make up materials sprawled out earlier, Cale can only inwardly sigh as he slightly regrets introducing the kids to Tasha’s makeup.
Here comes the greatest advice:
When he sits still while you do horrendous things in Cale standards, it's best to make the absolute best of it while it lasts. Such occurrence is rare, and is oftentimes reserved for Cale’s family.
Of course, with the instinct of a Cale-veteran, the kids do just that and put an even bolder shade of red on Cale’s face, almost matching his striking red hair.
Speaking of hair, today’s hairstyle is his bangs tied up in a troll-like redesign. Too bad Cale doesn't sing often, it wouldn't kill his grandma.
The front door clicks as Raon continues to sniffle away, snot dripping down everytime he doesn't. It looks painful to watch.
Alberu strides to the room, grinning bewilderedly when he sees Cale with an artificial blush so horrible it borders on hilarious territory. Well, everything about that serious, deadpan face of his, paired with such flamboyant makeup, is hilarious in itself.
“Cookie Prince is here!” Raon is the one who announces his presence, though Cale just wanted to ignore Alberu’s existence because he'll never hear the end of it.
Here comes another piece of advice:
If you don't want -100 favorability with Cale, it's best not to tease him in this situation. It's better to say that he doesn't look bad—because, really, in what world does he ever look bad? Cale is magic.
… Or better yet, just don't say anything at all.
But of course, Alberu naturally has to make Cale’s life hell just as he does to him, it was a world of survival of the fittest and Alberu was not about to lose.
“What's this, oh dear Princess Cale? Did Empress On pass her crown to you today?” In the background, Hong giggles. It's a sweet sound. “I sincerely apologize for my tardiness… I couldn't arrive in time for your coronation.”
When Cale’s fists start to clench, better back down.
“Aha, I'm pissed. Why does it still look good on you?” Cale’s fists relax, and that is how Alberu deliberately starts a crisis and evades from it in a lock of hair. This method is unrecommended unless you are in an established relationship with Cale.
… And, well, unless you want a swollen eye.
Alberu didn't, so he sat down beside Cale on the carpet with the kids, setting his work bag somewhere on the couch. He played with the redhead’s hair idly, examining the braided strands as well as the attention-grabbing front ponytail. Cale let him.
“Empress On is still in her prime, she wouldn't do such a thing.” Cale leans to the touch unconsciously, gathering the stray makeup materials in a messy pile. Alberu smiles warmly. “How was work, Prince Alberu?” The matching nickname comes as naturally as the casualness of their present dynamic.
“Mmm, the usual, your Highness.” At this point, Alberu is already re-braiding his hair, gathering his bangs in a much glorified bun and giving him side braids. Cale lets him as Alberu moves completely behind Cale, his legs wrapping around Cale’s figure. “It was a slow day. Nothing much to do, but of course my paperwork’s extra.”
Cale hummed, melting in Alberu’s embrace as he gave up organizing the pile of makeup. It's now settled improperly between Cale’s legs. “Paperwork again. Must they need to work you to the bone?” His head moved to rest on Alberu’s shoulder behind him. Thankfully, Alberu was done braiding his hair, and proceeded to wrap his arms around Cale’s waist.
“They say too much competency is a curse, your Highness. I'm afraid my responsibility increases as I go up the ranks.”
A puff of laugh from the redhead. “I can see that. You should learn to be worse sometimes, your Grace.”
Somewhere in Roan, there's a group of broke college students who’d probably faint if they saw the exchange. Fortunately, this event may happen everyday, but only in the sweet security of their shared home.
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