April Fools' Day and the Lucky Letter
The news of Seoha rejoining the club soon made its way to the other girls as well.
First came the genuinely puzzled questions—how had she pulled that off when it supposedly broke no rules? Then there was Nayun, preening about how she'd totally called it. And finally, the thinly veiled teasing: Well, well, the three of you get to spend even more time together. How sweet.
Her phone buzzed all day long with messages, and even then, it wasn't until right before they left school—when they'd stopped by the club room and confirmed it with their own two eyes—that Hasol and Nayun finally believed it wasn't a lie.
So no, Yeoncheong wasn't imagining things. This was the perfectly normal reaction.
Joining a club during third year—a make-or-break stretch of their lives—just to stay close to someone longer? That was a choice no ordinary amount of affection could explain.
Then again, since it proved her feelings were anything but ordinary, Seoha had, in a way, accounted for everything.
They'd barely finished reeling from Seoha's almost unbelievable story when another chaotic day arrived.
April 1st.
April Fools' Day.
Having survived March, the month of adjusting to a new school year, they now greeted the first day of April.
The classroom was considerably rowdier than it had been last month. Kids snickered among themselves, dreaming up elaborate schemes—tip every desk on its side, act like nobody had come to school at all. Watching them, Yeoncheong sank into thought.
Come to think of it, how did last year go?
There'd been the adjustment to school. The adjustment to living as a girl. She honestly couldn't remember how last April Fools' had passed.
She'd heard later that people had deliberately left her alone back then, thinking she was shy and fragile... which, compared to how she was now, was night and day.
She'd adapted a little too well.
"Yeoncheong, aren't you doing it?"
At the sound of her name, she looked up—only to find that at some point, everyone else had already tipped their desks sideways, leaving her sitting there perfectly upright.
Apparently the prank had been decided while she wasn't paying attention.
They'd even lain the desks completely flat and were pretending to sit in their chairs. It was quite committed.
Call it herd mentality. Call it conformity. Whatever it was, everyone was doing it, which meant doing nothing would have made her stick out like a sore thumb.
"You're in, right?"
"Uh, yeah. Obviously. Count me in."
So Yeoncheong too tipped her desk on its side like the rest of them.
Days like this didn't come around often. Once a year, and once a year only.
There was no reason not to.
The moment their homeroom teacher walked in, she flinched at the state of the classroom.
A trash can sitting on the lectern, the notice board papers tipped sideways—everything that could be laid flat had been—and on top of that, someone had deliberately written sideways across the chalkboard. Her reaction was understandable.
But Teacher Jisu didn't just end things with a scolding. She glanced slyly at the lectern and the podium, broke into a grin, and lay right down. Just as the students were "sitting" with their desks tipped over, the teacher now "stood" with herself tipped over.
It was the quick wit of a young teacher, flexible in the best possible way.
She then propped the attendance book upright on the lectern and began taking roll as naturally as if nothing were amiss.
"Hasol, are you here?"
"Yes."
"Hasol?"
"Yes, I'm here."
The kids tilted their heads as the teacher called the name again to double-check, even after hearing an answer.
"Oof... I just can't see well today, kids. Could you all answer a little louder?"
Apparently, with everyone lying flat, their faces were hard to make out.
At that, Yeoncheong and the rest of the class couldn't hold it in any longer—they burst out laughing.
They waved their hands in the air shouting here! here!, giggling nonstop through the long roll call, and when Teacher Jisu finally dusted herself off and stood up, her eyes drifted to the bulletin board at the front of the room.
"First period today is... hmm. You all know how strict I can be, right? If you'd rather not get in trouble, put everything back the way it was and sit down properly for class. Got it?"
"Yes, ma'am~!"
The students had no intention of pranking a teacher who could so clearly punish them for it—and besides, she'd already played along and let them have their fun. Cheerfully, they began restoring the classroom to normal.
Then the teacher pointed at the front row and added one more thing.
"And Baek Suyeon. You've been caught, so go swap back with Siyeon right now. Save yourself the lecture later."
This, it seemed, most of the class hadn't known either, because a ripple of murmurs ran through the room. Yeoncheong, naturally, was one of them.
"Baek Suyeon? You heard your teacher, right?"
The "Siyeon" sitting next to Seobin, realizing there was no longer any point in hiding, dropped the act.
"Aww, teach! Nobody had a clue! How long have you known?"
"I didn't know. I figured there was a decent chance, so I just poked at it once to see."
On April Fools' Day, twins always switch places.
Having served as homeroom teacher last year, she'd gotten a fair handle on Suyeon's patterns, and she shrugged with an air of obviously.
"What!?"
"Anyway, go switch back. Now."
Clearly bummed at being caught the moment the prank began, Suyeon—or rather, Siyeon—nodded along while kicking petulantly at the floor.
"You got caught instantly. Was it that obvious?"
"Not at all. Unless someone looked really closely, no one could tell. Our classmates didn't notice."
That was the conversation she was having with Seobin.
The two of them were always glued together anyway, so nobody had even thought to suspect the person had been swapped.
"Right. I only saw her from behind too, so I was completely fooled for a second."
Yeoncheong, who had wandered into the conversation, asked a question.
"When did you two swap? Don't tell me from the very start?"
"Yep. From the walk to school."
Well, it was April Fools'.
Suyeon had probably whined that they should do it just once, and Siyeon—who normally hated this sort of thing—had apparently agreed without much fuss, which struck Yeoncheong as odd.
"I tried my best to help cover for her without getting caught, but she got busted from the very beginning."
"Seobin, don't feel bad. That was all on Teacher Jisu having eagle eyes."
To Seobin's apologetic look, Suyeon waved it off, saying it had been a fun experience regardless. She grabbed her bag with a grin.
"Oh, right. Yeoncheong, I've got something for you."
Out of her upside-down bag came a letter.
And not just any letter—it was one of the fairly elaborate ones, written on stationery you'd buy at a store.
"A letter?"
"Yep. It's from my heart. You'd better not throw it away!"
Having delivered her piece, the girl turned and marched off.
Back at her own desk, Yeoncheong carefully checked the letter while glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
If it was a letter from the heart, only one person came to mind—so of course she couldn't help being nervous.
And then.
"Oh, come on... a Lucky Letter? What is this, the stone ages!?"
The instant she saw the opening line—This letter originated in England—Yeoncheong slapped her desk and ground her teeth.
Just wait until I see you later...
She'd let herself hope, just the tiniest little bit, and it had cost her.
"Something's wrong with me today."
During break, when Yeoncheong said this with a grave face, Hasol—who was perched on her lap—looked back at her.
"Hm? What is?"
"My luck has been awful today. Uniquely awful."
She'd rushed to the bathroom only to find it packed. She'd gone to the cafeteria a little late to dodge the crowd, and the moment she got there, the side dishes ran out right in front of her. The toe of her slipper caught on the stairs and she'd nearly pitched forward. She'd tried to get revenge on Suyeon and ended up falling flat on her own.
Any one of these things could happen, sure. But all of them on the same day? It just put her in a foul mood.
"You think it's that Lucky Letter?"
At Nayun's guess—offered as she pulled a book from her locker—Yeoncheong let out a bitter laugh.
"Oh, come on. Even you can't seriously believe that. How could it possibly be real?"
"No, think about it. It's the only thing different from a normal day. If your luck's gone bad, you find the cause in the one thing that changed."
Same environment, one variable controlled, different result—therefore, that variable had affected the outcome.
It was a startlingly logical point, one Yeoncheong could hardly believe had come out of Nayun's mouth.
"Yeoncheong, you got your Lucky Letter today. And weren't you supposed to get cursed with misfortune if you didn't send it on in time?"
"Hard to say. Those things come in a million different versions anyway."
Just as she said.
Only the general framework stayed the same—send it to this many people, send it by this date, die if you don't, and so on. The Lucky Letter was defined by its endless variations.
She'd only read the opening before shoving it into the back of a drawer, so Nayun's guess wasn't wrong either.
At the sight of Nayun puffing out her chest, Yeoncheong and Hasol both fell open-mouthed.
"My goodness... Nayun, you've gotten smart."
"Are you feeling okay? Sick anywhere? They say when a person changes that suddenly, it's terminal."
"You little—!"
Nayun pounced on the two attached-at-the-hip girls, and they tussled for a good long while.
Eventually, with Nayun sitting on her lap—more accurately, pinned down with her whole body—Yeoncheong's lips twitched as a thought took shape.
"M-maybe I should just do what the Lucky Letter says."
"If it's bugging you that much, just follow the instructions and put your mind at ease."
"Yeah, let's at least check what it's telling you to do."
At her friends' advice, Yeoncheong fished the letter out of its drawer and checked the instructions.
"'Send an identical copy of this letter to five people before the end of the day, and promise to treat everyone with equal affection from now on...?' Why on earth is that clause in here?"
Just as Nayun predicted, the deadline was today, and there was even an abstract condition tacked on in the form of a promise.
She'd never heard of a chain letter like this, so it had to be Suyeon's original creation.
What could she possibly have been thinking when she added that line? Just as the three of them put their heads together over it—
"Oh! I've got it."
Hasol's lips curled up as she offered her theory.
"What if she got sulky because you're only all sweet and cuddly with Nayun, and you never do any of that with her because you get too embarrassed?"
"She's right. It's one hundred percent that."
She'd called it a theory, but hearing it laid out, there was no need to check twice—it was obviously the answer.
Apparently Yeoncheong had been rationing her skinship with Suyeon and Seoha, holding herself back—and so she'd quietly smuggled her own selfish wishes into the letter.
"Suyeon's kind of adorable, honestly. We must be pretty enviable."
"Well. That jealousy is half the fun of teasing her."
While her two friends nodded sagely, fully understanding the hunger that could drive someone to write such a letter, Yeoncheong tilted her head.
"Hmm... now that I know that, I kind of don't want to do it."
As she always said—the moment someone tells you to do something, you stop wanting to. That's just how friends are.
Besides, she'd seen Suyeon grinning smugly plenty of times, but Yeoncheong rarely got to hold the upper hand herself.
"I'm gonna have to think this one over~"
Having sized up her opening, she patted the girl on her lap to shoo her off. It was about time to grab her books from her locker.
"You're gonna get punished for that someday."
"Doubt it~ Bring it on if you can."
Having hoisted Nayun to her feet, Yeoncheong tried to spring up as well, but...
"Uh. Uhh..."
She'd kept her friends sitting on her for far too long, and her legs had gone completely numb. Her energetic launch ended in a loud crash as she toppled over backward.
"Are you okay? Does your head hurt?"
"Hey, I told you you'd get punished. You alright?"
She'd fallen hard enough that the other kids nearby turned to look toward the source of the noise.
Amid all the worried voices, rubbing the back of her head—she half-wondered if it had cracked—Yeoncheong muttered to herself.
"Ugh... it's not like anyone's even watching. Fine. I'll just hand out the stupid Lucky Letter."
Whether it counted as punishment, she couldn't say.
But rather than stay paranoid and unlucky all day, she might as well pass the letter along and be done with it.
And then—
"Are you flashing me on purpose these days? Keep this up and you'll be showing me all the way up top, my little dove."
Frantically smoothing down her flipped-up skirt as she stood, Yeoncheong settled on the first recipient of the letter.
After school.
The cozy club room tucked away in a corner of the annex.
With Seoha now added, the roster had grown to three—but for some reason, only Suyeon and Seoha were there today.
"Where'd Yeoncheong run off to? She's not coming?"
"Oh, probably because of the Lucky Letter I sent her. Hasol says her luck's gone bad because of it, apparently. She's out scattering letters to people."
"...I see."
Maybe her bad luck wasn't actually the letter's fault, but she seemed determined to shake off the unease one way or another, hence all the rushing around.
In other words, she wouldn't be showing up at the club room for a while.
Leaving Suyeon to her club activity report, Seoha drifted toward the bookshelf.
She hadn't seen the title, but she had a rough idea which shelf it lived on, and there was exactly one book that gathered noticeably less dust. Easy to find.
Extending her index finger, Seoha gently slid the book out and carefully turned the pages...
Mmm~ so she's been secretly reading things like this.
An utterly unexpected discovery pulled a smile to her lips.
For Seoha, it was a stroke of luck.
And for Yeoncheong, who still hadn't finished distributing her Lucky Letter—it was the arrival of yet another misfortune.