My Senior's Graduation
Did anything particularly change once the new year began?
The answer was "no."
The old belief that you had to eat a bowl of tteokguk soup to gain a year of age had crumbled long ago, and this was hardly some growth spurt where you shot up overnight.
Both the her of last year and the her of this year remained unchanged, mentally and physically alike. Just like yesterday, she woke whenever she pleased, filled her stomach, and whiled away her time in idleness, face buried in her bed against the chilly air of the house.
Some might tell her to at least make a New Year's resolution, but Yeoncheong was not the sort of person to waste effort on promises she couldn't keep anyway.
Still, the moment the tedium of vacation life and that particular loneliness unique to someone living alone lifted its head—
—a message like this would drop into the group chat, refusing to leave Yeoncheong alone.
For the record, the pajama party wasn't all of it. There was a suggestion that everyone go to an amusement park together, or go camping as a club activity—a truly diverse array of proposals lined up one after another.
Of all those suggestions, the only one Yeoncheong had agreed to so far was the camping trip, where it would be just the two of them. The words just the two of them made her want to go about as much as she wanted a hole in the head. But it wasn't a trip purely for fun—the club activity log had to be filled, so she had no real choice in the matter.
Whether she remembered Yeoncheong saying she'd been lonely over the holidays, or genuinely just wanted to have a pajama party, no one could tell—but Suyeon had been singing the pajama party song for days now, as if something had gotten into her.
Whatever her reasons, the other friends apparently didn't mind as long as the schedule worked out, which meant the only person Suyeon had to convince was Yeoncheong.
That said, Yeoncheong was beginning to feel a quiet sense of alarm at how naturally her friends kept finding their way into her house.
Tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap.
She'd been skirmishing over text for a good long while. She had been carrying on her desperate resistance for days already, but against a Suyeon with no intention of backing down, Yeoncheong was slowly running out of steam.
It wasn't as if they'd be living together forever—they just wanted to play together and sleep over for one night...
In the end, Yeoncheong raised the white flag first, thinking, does it really have to come to this?
As if she'd been lying in wait, Suyeon's reply came flying the very instant Yeoncheong's one-step retreat hit the chat.
Yeoncheong set her phone down with a deep sigh. She'd given her permission, but that creeping unease better just be her imagination.
Suyeon, meanwhile, clutching victory at the end of her long campaign, practically radiated triumph even through the screen.
It was rare for Yeoncheong to flat-out refuse anything, so her statement was more than enough to pique her friends' interest.
Yeoncheong had a reason she absolutely couldn't budge on this one, and Suyeon, quick on the uptake, scrambled to apologize before things could sour.
But as the messages flew back and forth, Yeoncheong's eye caught on something—a little "1" that wouldn't go away beside one of the threads. Given everything that had happened so far, the owner of that unread message had to be Seoha.
It was strange that she hadn't so much as glanced at a chatroom this rowdy, even if it was just a group chat.
An endless barrage of question marks piled up beneath her message. The unspoken pressure was unmistakable: you're talking to me, and you're thinking about Seoha? The rhythm of the messages speeding up and slowing down made it clear a human hand was hammering away in real time—which, if anything, made it scarier.
Yeoncheong's fingers flew across the screen, desperate to clear up the misunderstanding before it could take root.
The chain of question marks stopped dead. Thankfully, it seemed her actual meaning had come through intact.
After those two helpful replies, this time it was Yeoncheong's turn to unleash the question marks.
Graduation ceremonies used to be a February thing by default, but that was ancient history now. These days they could fall anywhere from late December through January—every school did it differently.
And Yeoncheong, a girl who hadn't even known her own school's founding anniversary, hardly could have been expected to know when graduation was.
Having vented her half-joking grievances over text, Yeoncheong threw on some decent clothes.
She'd been glued to her bed, sure, but she'd at least done a quick wash-up, so getting ready didn't take long.
By the time she picked her phone back up, replies from both friends had already come flying in.
With only one senior she actually knew, guessing was easy for her friends.
Rather than explain it all piece by piece, Yeoncheong just took screenshots and dropped them into the chatroom.
The screenshots showed her exchange with Senior Seoyun: starting a few days back, the same conversation—are you free today? Want to meet up?—repeated like clockwork every other day. There was even a record of Yeoncheong, baffled by what kind of joke this was supposed to be, turning her down cold.
Seeing that, Suyeon and Hasol each had a comment to make.
And just like that, Yeoncheong had transformed into a heartless monster who'd cruelly rejected a senior's plea to attend her graduation.
Even knowing it was all in good fun, that was hardly a title she welcomed, so on her way out the door Yeoncheong worked her fingers in a hurry.
Her school was close enough to walk to, after all—if it had been explained properly, she never would have turned the request down so coldly.
She'd dutifully performed the class president duties she'd felt were half-foisted on her in the second semester. She'd carried off the festival penalty costume without a hitch—an outfit that would have mortified anyone else.
And sure, she grumbled every single time, but that was just who Yeoncheong was to begin with.
Her guilt swelling for no good reason, Yeoncheong quickened her pace, searching for a flower shop nearby.
Meanwhile, at the gymnasium where the graduation ceremony had just wrapped up, Seoha was with Nayun.
Nayun, on her way back from congratulating a close club senior on graduating, was snickering down at her phone.
"Seoha, looks like Yeoncheong's on her way to the school."
"Now?"
There was the ceremony prep, the commemorative speech—Seoha had been a little busy in every way that mattered.
When she checked her phone, silenced as it was, the group chat had piled up with messages. Reading through them one by one, Seoha pieced together the situation back home.
She lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. The graduation had largely wound down, students clustering with friends and family to take photos.
Seoha pushed off the gymnasium wall and licked her lips.
"Nayun, let's go find our senior Seoyun first."
"Hm? Ah, right."
Knowing Yeoncheong, she probably hadn't contacted Senior Seoyun in her panic—and if she showed up only for them to keep missing each other, nothing could be more of a disaster.
Nayun grasped what her friend meant and hauled herself up with a groan about how much running around this girl caused her.
Thick winter jackets over school uniforms—everyone was dressed almost identically, so finding Senior Seoyun wouldn't be easy.
"She hasn't already left, has she?"
"No way... that senior has more than one or two friends, you know."
A former student council president, and a person so effortlessly sociable that she'd openly set her sights on Yeoncheong, age be damned.
Seoha was certain she hadn't left yet.
They split up the areas to search, and the two set off, going all in for their friend who was one card short of a full hand.
Feeling guilty both for turning down the invitation without even knowing it was graduation day, and for showing up empty-handed, Yeoncheong bought a bouquet before arriving at the school.
Graduation season was an important one for flower shops, so luckily she'd been able to get a bouquet same-day.
Catching her breath, Yeoncheong looked around the school. But she was too late, it seemed—the grounds that should have been bustling were all but deserted.
She didn't know the exact schedule, so she was just starting toward the gymnasium when, from somewhere off in the distance, a voice called her name.
Two familiar silhouettes she saw every day, and beside them, one more figure. They seemed to be wearing their uniforms despite it being vacation, and at the sight Yeoncheong kicked off the ground toward them.
By the time she'd bounded over, puffing hard for breath, Senior Seoyun flashed a grin and waved.
"Wow. Yeoncheong, I almost died of heartbreak."
The two beside her were, as expected, Seoha and Nayun. Having apparently done their part, they subtly slipped away, and Yeoncheong fell into conversation with the senior before her.
"Well, if you wanted me here, you should have said it was your graduation."
"I trusted my cute, well-behaved junior, you see. Who knew she wouldn't even know when graduation was."
Judging by the way the senior's gaze drifted toward Nayun and Seoha, it was obvious where she'd heard that.
Yeoncheong hadn't sprinted through this winter cold just to be teased, so she held out the bouquet and steered the conversation onto different rails.
"Anyway—congratulations on graduating, senior."
She hadn't anticipated a bouquet on top of everything, and Senior Seoyun accepted it with a face-splitting smile.
"My, my. To think we were close enough for flower bouquets. I'm touched."
"..."
Come to think of it...
Dragging Yeoncheong and Seobin in to clean the clubroom under some pretext, treating her like a full-on lap dog at the Hwaryeong Festival, pouncing on every spare moment to mess with her—setting aside the remedial summer classes, somehow the times she'd gotten put through the wringer outnumbered the times she'd actually been helped.
"Senior, I think the bouquet might be too much. Please give it back."
"Hey! Who gives a gift and then snatches it back!"
Senior Seoyun clutched the bouquet to her chest and hid it deep against her body, and since Yeoncheong hadn't meant it seriously anyway, the exchange wrapped up as lighthearted banter.
They took photos together, and then came the catching-up talk. Where was she going for university? What would she do until then? How did it feel to finally be a third-year?
Perhaps deciding that was enough, Senior Seoyun broached her departure.
"I should get going soon."
"Okay. Get home safe, senior."
Her family was waiting near the school, so holding her up any longer would have been a nuisance.
But something about the way Yeoncheong had addressed her made Senior Seoyun pause mid-turn.
"I'm graduating now. You're really not planning on calling me Unnie all the way to the end?"
"You're my senior until today, aren't you? From tomorrow on, I won't get to say it even if I want to. Next time we meet, I'll call you whatever you like."
"Fair enough."
Senior Seoyun chuckled and looked at the two juniors who had held Yeoncheong here for her and even given up their spot.
Then, as if some parting words had occurred to her, she spoke up.
"You're a third-year now."
"I know."
"One year left, so have fun with it. No regrets."
Yeoncheong tilted her head at the unexpected advice.
She'd heard plenty of "you're a third-year, so study hard"—but "you're a third-year, so go play" was a first.
"Not studying, then?"
"Study in moderation. University isn't the be-all and end-all of life, you know. It's your last year—the one that never comes back—so spend it well. You've got plenty of good friends around you. That's advice from your senior."
At Senior Seoyun's words, delivered as though she'd already lived a full life, Yeoncheong burst out laughing.
"Is that really something a senior who hasn't even gone to university yet should say?"
"Isn't it exactly what a senior graduating from high school is qualified to say?"
Senior Seoyun snickered and thoroughly ruffled Yeoncheong's hair.
"Ah—hey!"
"Take care of yourself. I'll text you if I get bored!"
"Please don't."
But even as she said it, Yeoncheong waved back with both hands. The two friends who'd been keeping their distance sidled closer.
"Nothing to say to us for hunting your senior down for you?"
"Thanks. Really. It'd be even more appreciated if someone had told me today was the graduation in the first place."
There was nothing left to do at the school, so Yeoncheong and her two friends began strolling out at a leisurely pace.
Meeting up like this was its own stroke of luck, Nayun decided, and proposed lunch.
"We're all here anyway—let's grab lunch together."
"Sounds good. Where to? Seoha, you in?"
"I'm in."
Seoha, who had naturally claimed the spot at Yeoncheong's side, licked her lips.
"Oh, and—Yeoncheong? I like flowers too."
"Huh?"
"I said I like flowers too."
"Uh, sure. I'll remember that."
Perhaps she'd been envious of Senior Seoyun receiving a bouquet for her graduation. Only after hearing Yeoncheong's promise to remember did Seoha smile in satisfaction and join Nayun in debating the lunch menu.
With her friends still at her side, she looked no different from last year, on the surface.
But having seen off the graduation of Senior Seoyun, the only senior she'd ever really known, Yeoncheong felt something else too—that the new year had well and truly arrived.