Spring Break, and the End of Second Year
Those few days of school crammed between winter break and spring break. What could anyone possibly teach in a stretch of less than a week?
At best, they screened movies that only vaguely resembled actual coursework. About ninety percent of the classes called December to mind — the dead weeks that followed final exams.
And the remaining ten percent?
Stop thinking of yourselves as second-years. You're the ones taking the college entrance exams this year. You're third-years now. Don't waste your time. Not a day more, not a day less — exactly one year. A year of hard work could change your life. I'm not saying this for my sake, I'm saying it entirely for yours. And so on.
A few of the older teachers had already begun treating the students as third-years, lining up sermon after sermon about mindset and resolve. Some of the classmates whose New Year's resolutions hadn't yet died their usual three-day death seemed to burn with newfound determination at those words, but as for Yeoncheong...
Yeoncheong, who fell squarely into the "just grow up healthy, dear" category of student, wasn't particularly moved.
Besides, she had changed genders on top of everything. In this day and age, having your sex change didn't dramatically alter your career prospects — but she couldn't exactly say it had zero effect either.
And so the days passed — movies here, sermons there — like alternating dips between a hot bath and a cold one, a continuous string of pure time-killing.
In the cracks of that brief stretch, Yeoncheong spent day after day in never-a-dull-moment company with Suyeon, Seoha, and the rest of her friends, but since that had long since become her everyday life, things were more or less peaceful(?)
And time went on flowing.
Then the day of spring break — the one that had seemed like it would never arrive — finally dawned.
The young teacher who was always punctual swung open the front door and strode in, brimming with energy.
"Hey, everyone. Good morning."
"Good morning, Ms. Jisu!"
Perhaps because even a break of only a few weeks was still, technically, a break — the students' voices were absolutely bursting with energy.
Two closing ceremonies meant twice the joy. It was the sole advantage of splitting the winter vacation into a winter and a spring half.
"Is Yeoncheong here?"
Teacher Jisu set the attendance book — nothing but dead weight to her now — down on the podium, and her gaze drifted toward the corner of the classroom, to the spot that had served as Class 2-1's tardiness barometer all year.
Perhaps because she didn't appreciate being used as the class's tardiness alert system, Yeoncheong, despite being right there in her seat, shook her head.
"Not here."
"Right, Yeoncheong is late then..."
"Ah, Ms. Jisu!"
Teacher and student or not, they'd spent a full year together in the same classroom. The sight of the two of them this comfortable with each other set the whole class off into laughter.
Teacher Jisu curled her lips up as if to say just kidding, while Yeoncheong pouted slightly and grumbled under her breath.
"Seriously... I need to stop being late once I'm a third-year."
"Yes, please do, Yeoncheong. I'm running out of new nagging material. Besides, I can't exactly use you as our class's tardiness barometer when you're a third-year, can I?"
Which was to say: even in third year, Yeoncheong would be in Teacher Jisu's class.
At the teacher's casually dropped piece of crucial information, the classroom erupted.
"Oh, right! Class assignments!"
"Ms. Jisu! Did the third-year classes come out?"
"They did. Came out a while ago."
Teacher Jisu smiled and flipped open the attendance book. A single sheet of paper tucked inside — its tantalizing presence practically wagging its tail like a lure — sent the students into an even greater frenzy.
"Tell us ours too!"
"So jealous of Yeoncheong~"
"Are you moving up to third year with us?"
"Who's in your class, Ms. Jisu?"
"Just tell us one more name. Just one. Pleeeease?"
The girls' chattering voices filled the classroom to bursting.
There were a handful of teachers as young as Teacher Jisu, but it was rare for any of them to serve as a homeroom teacher. One who drew a clear line between teacher and student while still treating everyone warmly like Teacher Jisu did was naturally popular.
That the students showed such palpable reluctance to part with her was, in a way, only natural.
But having whipped the students' expectations up to their absolute peak, the teacher snapped the attendance book shut with a clack and pursed her lips.
"Cleaning first. You won't be coming back to this classroom after break, but you received it spotless from the upperclassmen, so you pass it on spotless to the underclassmen. That's how it works."
"Yes, ma'am..."
As established, the teacher-student boundary here was rock solid — and everyone knew Teacher Jisu was not one to be worn down by whining. With sullen voices, the students rose from their seats one by one and got to work.
"I'll be stepping out to the teachers' office for a bit. No slacking off — clean properly. I'll be checking with the class president later."
Teacher Jisu, attendance book in hand because she hadn't forgotten it, left the room. Yeoncheong and the rest began their cleaning, one after another.
Checking whether her classmates were slacking off, doing her own share of the cleaning — while Yeoncheong bustled about, one person was secretly watching her.
Hmm... when should I bring it up?
It was Seoha, lying in wait for the right moment to ask Yeoncheong out.
Wind the clock back a few days. It was when she'd sought advice from her junior Chaerin, claiming it was a story about a friend of hers.
By Chaerin's assessment, something had clearly happened between Yeoncheong and Suyeon — and with Suyeon having noticed that things were different now and carefully biding her time for a confession, the smart play was to make the first move.
As it happened, Valentine's Day fell in February. Pick a date beforehand, take her to a movie like last time, press the advantage hard — then meet her again on Valentine's Day, hand over the chocolate, and confess for good. That was the proposal.
Her junior Chaerin had reached a near-perfect conclusion from fragmentary information. But a failed confession was an open door for the opposition, so a confession was never, ever a light decision.
Ordinarily, Seoha would have turned such a bold plan over in her head two more times before nodding.
But with Suyeon visibly pulling ahead, her usual ice-cold, razor-sharp judgment had long since flown off somewhere far away.
Worse, Chaerin had kept making ominous noises about how they might not end up in the same class for third year — and before Seoha knew it...
She was holding two paid-for theater tickets. Popular ones, no less — the kind known to be quite hard to get.
Seoha wasn't exactly someone who agonized over money. Even with the cancellation fee, a refund would have been trivially easy — but these were tickets she'd gone out of her way to secure.
With her rival Suyeon so obviously pulling ahead, there was no reason to sit still.
"Yeoncheong."
Yeoncheong, who had been tussling with Nayun over an attempt to dodge cleaning duty, turned her head.
"Hm?"
"Let's talk for a sec."
As if to say this was no place for the conversation, Yeoncheong followed her beckoning friend out of the classroom.
The two of them headed for the landing between the staircases — the very spot where Seoha had once talked about "paying with her body" and ended up with a bump on her forehead for her trouble.
Perhaps because of the memory branded into her body, Yeoncheong instinctively rubbed her forehead, and Seoha hesitated, lips fluttering.
"I got tickets to a famous play. Want to go see it with me?"
"...A play? Well, sure, I'm not saying no. Who gave them to you this time?"
Perhaps because they'd already watched a movie together once under exactly that pretext, her reaction was favorable.
But sensing that this was an odd place to bring the topic up, Yeoncheong got a light shake of the head in response.
"No. I got them myself. Because I... because I want to see it with you."
Maybe it was the words that were about to follow, but her usual air of poised superiority had vanished without a trace.
What is she trying to say? Seoha fidgeted, restless.
I might be the only one who gets to see her like this — and at that thought, the corner of Yeoncheong's mouth quietly began to curl upward.
But even slightly off her usual game, Seoha was still Seoha.
Her expression management complete in an instant, she gathered her courage and pressed on.
"Also. Valentine's Day — you're free, right?"
"Um... I guess...?"
"The morning. Keep it open. I'm coming to get you myself."
"Huh?"
Leaving behind a Yeoncheong who had frozen solid at what amounted to an advance announcement of a confession —
having said everything she came to say, Seoha quickly descended the stairs, saying she needed to stop by the student council room. If she went back like this, sharp-eyed Suyeon might notice something, and she needed time to calm her pounding heart.
But.
What is this? Is Seoha... planning to confess?
She'd only followed the two of them out intending to give Yeoncheong a scare when she saw them leaving the classroom together — yet somehow she'd ended up overhearing the entire conversation, and Suyeon was left reeling.
She had just confirmed that Yeoncheong's heart wasn't so firmly set after all. She herself had only just begun to properly lay siege to that heart, planning to bring it crashing down completely.
So when had the other girl gotten ahead? An uneasy dread crept over Suyeon at her friend-and-rival's not-so-subtle confession announcement.
Yeoncheong was human too — it was true that her heart could waver.
Seoha, and Suyeon, and Suyeon again.
With no way of knowing in detail how things were progressing between the others and Yeoncheong... they had both begun to fall into the grand illusion that they were the one falling behind.
Cleaning finished, seats reclaimed, the principal's brief-yet-endless remarks absorbed through the school broadcast — all that remained was the final homeroom of the year with their homeroom teacher, Ms. Jisu.
"Alright, time to check which class you'll be going to after break!"
"Yes!"
"Ah, just tell us already!"
"I'm getting dizzy here!"
Perhaps because she had held the class assignment results hostage in order to quiet them down, saving it for the very, very last —
the students were on the verge of dying of curiosity.
With the atmosphere one false move away from outright riot if she kept up the teasing, Teacher Jisu wasted no time beginning the announcements.
"Hasol. Class 1 for third year as well. Looking forward to it."
"Yes! Same here, Ms. Jisu!"
With the reveal that Teacher Jisu would be Class 1's homeroom teacher, the announcements rolled on — joy and despair crossing paths in turn —
and Hasol twisted around in her seat to wave at Yeoncheong.
"Same class in third year too. Looking forward to it."
"Same here."
The announcements proceeded in student number order, which meant the next name was Nayun's.
"Nayun, Class 1 as well. You're good at sports — work just as hard on your studies."
"Aigoo~ don't you worry about me."
That made three out of five already.
Behind the three of them — fussing and celebrating over the possibility that all five of them might land in the same class — sat Suyeon, anxiously gnawing at her lip, and Seoha, looking nonchalant while quietly dying inside.
Granted, since these two were the ones vying for the spot closest to Yeoncheong's side, being in a different class wasn't exactly a catastrophic problem.
But all else being equal, same class was obviously better.
Hands clasped tight, Suyeon murmured every god's name she knew, praying with everything she had.
But...
"Suyeon, Class 2. Sorry about that."
"Huh? Uh...? Eh? Is this real? Am I dreaming?"
At the news of Class 2, Suyeon clutched at her hair and denied reality itself.
And when Seoha's name was called for Class 2 moments later, the life drained from her face, her expression as unreadably blank as ever.
A short while later, with Yeoncheong last, every student's class assignment had been revealed.
With the final homeroom of second year — a year of hard work, rest well, and let's meet again as third-years — concluded, the classroom broke into a din.
A class assignment that felt like someone had singled out exactly the two people in question and pried them apart.
"Hey, uh... you okay?"
"G-guys. It's literally the classroom right next door. No need to be that devastated."
Things had gotten to the point where Nayun was walking on eggshells and Hasol felt obliged to offer worried words of comfort.
Suyeon and Seoha simply couldn't pull themselves out of the shock.