The Textbooks Are Heavy
The textbooks were heavy.
Yeoncheong and Seoha found their class and lined up at the very back. Before long, the opening ceremony began.
Wow, this is dragging on...
In that respect, at least, opening ceremonies here were no less tedious than anywhere else.
Standing on the gymnasium floor, Yeoncheong gazed up at the principal as he pressed on with his address. A speech that seemed about to end, but never quite did. Before long, not only the students but even the teachers began glancing at the principal warily.
Yeoncheong let her gaze drift downward, naturally, and studied the students standing in the rows ahead of her. A few of them, worn down by the endless speech, were looking around restlessly.
She too, hoping to relieve the boredom, absentmindedly turned her head—keeping it angled away from the teachers stationed along the gymnasium walls.
Whoa.
A small sigh of admiration escaped inside her. It was because of what she saw the moment she turned her head sideways: Seoha.
Her back perfectly straight, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the front. There was a dignity about her, somehow, that made it hard to believe she was just another student. Even as everyone else slowly succumbed to the repetitive droning, Seoha never wavered.
Perhaps she felt the stare burning into her. Seoha turned her head toward Yeoncheong. The soft hair resting on her shoulders rippled with the motion, and crimson eyes met Yeoncheong's blue ones.
"Hm?"
A voice pitched just loud enough for Yeoncheong, standing right beside her, to hear. And there Yeoncheong was, staring holes into a girl she had only met today. A rush of embarrassment flooded her, and she whipped her head back to face forward.
Yeoncheong was glad, for once, that she hadn't cut her hair short today. The hair falling to her shoulders served as a curtain, hiding her expression.
The principal's seemingly endless address, in the end, could not outlast the growing murmur of the students. As the disorder spread, the principal cleared his throat and hastily brought his speech to a close.
The gymnasium erupted into noise in an instant. Naturally so—that had been the final item on the opening ceremony's agenda.
The teachers along the walls began peeling off one by one to find their own classes. Starting with the third years at the very back, the students filed out under their teachers' guidance, Yeoncheong among them.
Like a highway during a holiday rush, Yeoncheong kept stopping and starting, stopping and starting.
I thought I was going to die of discomfort.
Having barely made it to the classroom, Yeoncheong caught her breath.
In front, behind, to either side—girls in every direction, close enough to brush against with the slightest movement. She had walked the whole way with her body contorted, as though the slightest contact would spell disaster, and she was already exhausted.
Only her bag sat forlornly on the desk. She grabbed it—someone had tossed it there in a rush on the way out—sat down in her seat, and looked around the classroom.
It was the privilege of the transfer student: ending up at the very back, naturally.
Doesn't look like she's here yet.
Seoha, who had been walking beside her, had vanished into the crowd at some point.
Even in the smallest lulls, students clustered together in twos and threes, chattering away. Some were exclaiming happily that they'd ended up in the same class again this year.
They had already spent a year at the same school. Which meant groups had already formed, each with its own established circles.
Yeoncheong hugged her bag and fidgeted with her fingers for no particular reason.
I expected as much, but still...
Yeoncheong knew that Hwaryeong High School rarely accepted transfer students.
She had worried that everyone might make a big deal out of the new girl, but now that nobody paid her any attention at all, the feeling was strangely complicated in its own way.
Then again, in every class, there are always a few people who get along warmly with everyone.
Two such students—suns of their classroom—approached Yeoncheong from behind.
"Boo!"
The more mischievous of the two grabbed her shoulder with a loud yell. It was meant to loosen up the transfer student, who looked so tense and awkward—
Crash.
Every student in the classroom turned toward the source of the noise. A fallen chair, Yeoncheong slid halfway beneath it, her face frozen in genuine, wide-eyed shock at the sudden contact.
Clutching her bag tightly to her chest, Yeoncheong flushed scarlet at her own ridiculous posture and the swarm of eyes upon her.
"A-are you okay?"
The flustered girl extended a hand. At that moment, their homeroom teacher, Ms. Jisu, walked in.
"Everyone, I distinctly remember telling you to get ready for class...?"
Ms. Jisu's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the noisy room.
"Hasol... already picking on the transfer student? How many times have I told you not to do that?"
"Wha—Ms. Jisu! When have I ever done that!"
The students burst out laughing, and the stiffened atmosphere melted away. The girl called Hasol righted the chair and helped Yeoncheong to her feet.
"Yeoncheong, right? Sorry—I'm really, really sorry!"
Hasol hurried back to her own seat. One by one, the other students sat down as well, and Yeoncheong pulled out her chair and settled at her desk.
Ms. Jisu glanced around the now-quiet classroom and opened her attendance book.
"Since it's the first day, let's take attendance first. It'll help me put names to faces, too."
Her finger traced down the roll as she called out names.
"Kang Hasol."
"Here!"
Starting with the girl from earlier, hand shooting straight up as she answered, a monotonous rhythm followed—name called, hand raised.
At some point, Seoha, seated beside her, leaned over and asked quietly,
"What happened back there?"
"Nothing. It was nothing."
Yeoncheong shook her head vigorously. If Seoha hadn't seen it, there was no need to volunteer the humiliating details.
Finishing roll call with Yeoncheong last, Ms. Jisu actually began the lesson. Thanks to the opening ceremony, there was hardly any class time left. Hasol and a few others groaned in protest, but the teacher didn't budge an inch.
"It's for your own good later," she said, and the lesson began. Ms. Jisu's subject was mathematics.
Yeoncheong, naturally, had no textbook of her own, so she pushed her desk together with Seoha's to share. Seoha glanced sideways at the careful distance Yeoncheong was keeping.
"You can come closer to see."
Seoha slid the textbook more toward the middle and scooted her chair slightly closer. Yeoncheong swallowed. It was a distance where their shoulders would touch at the slightest lean.
It was then that Yeoncheong realized yet another truth.
Having attended an all-boys middle school and an all-boys high school, Yeoncheong's resistance to girls was exactly zero.
The bell rang, marking the end of class. Ms. Jisu reminded them to remember where they'd stopped, then left the room.
Is it over...?
Seoha's hair, swaying at the smallest turn of her head, and her scent. Yeoncheong was certain she hadn't dozed off, yet not a single thing from the lesson remained in her memory.
Even so, she was grateful the break had arrived. Her mind and body were already worn to the limit, and she badly needed it.
But the sun shining into the classroom was still going strong. The girl named Hasol came straight over to Yeoncheong.
"Yeoncheong, you okay? You didn't get hurt earlier, did you?"
Golden hair so bright it dazzled just to look at. The pins bristling through it, the way she approached without a shred of hesitation—everything about her announced a sunny personality.
Just as the girl who'd come along with her opened her mouth to introduce herself, Seoha slipped in between the three of them.
"Sorry, you two. Would it be all right if I borrowed Yeoncheong? The teacher told us to go pick up her textbooks."
"Ah, right. Then let's talk more later!"
"Y-yeah."
When Yeoncheong nodded, Hasol went off toward her other friends without a trace of lingering regret. Seoha rose from her seat and called to Yeoncheong.
"Let's hurry and go."
Yeoncheong followed her out of the classroom.
Is it because she's popular? Or just because she's pretty?
Walking the empty corridors earlier, she hadn't noticed, but Seoha drew the eye simply by existing. Even though they had clearly attended the same school for a year now, the glances directed at her carried something like admiration.
The place Seoha led her to was the library in the back building. With the break so short, there were naturally no students in the library.
Well, not none.
The moment the library door opened, a purple-haired girl who'd been wandering between the shelves darted out of sight. Seoha went straight to the librarian.
"Ah, Seoha. What brings you to the library during break?"
"I came to pick up the transfer student's textbooks."
"Oh, those. One moment, dear."
The librarian disappeared into the back room and returned carrying a bundle of books.
"I prepared them in advance, figuring you'd come."
"Thank you."
Yeoncheong echoed the thanks as she followed Seoha's lead. The librarian waved her off—no trouble at all—then seemed to remember something and added,
"Ah, but I was short a couple—volume two or three, I think. I'll get those to you separately later."
"That's fine, thank you."
After another round of greetings, Seoha and Yeoncheong left the library, bundle of books in hand.
Yeoncheong had marched off boldly with the bundle of books, and within five minutes she regretted the decision.
The fact that she had been a man barely a month ago. A pointless pride that refused to let her ask a girl her own age for help.
And so, turning down Seoha's offer, Yeoncheong carried the bundle alone.
Shifting it from hand to hand, she eventually found herself using both arms.
In her days as a man, she could have carried dozens of textbooks in one go without breaking a sweat. Not anymore. Unable to accept this, Yeoncheong went looking for the cause elsewhere.
Must be because it's second year. The books are just thicker.
In the end, she bent down and set the bundle on the floor. The stairs, however, were unavoidable. Seoha watched her quietly the whole time.
The break was short. Right on cue, the bell rang, announcing the start of class.
"Go on ahead. I'll be right there."
Yeoncheong slipped her hands under the rope binding the books together. The instant she tried to work in her other hand, Seoha moved with startling speed.
"I'll help."
"I'm fine, really—"
Seoha cut her off.
"One, two, three."
At a command no human being could ignore, Yeoncheong's body moved on pure reflex. The bundle of books shot up into the air. Seoha spoke with a look that said, this is what I meant.
"See? Hardly weighs anything, right?"
"Yeah. Thanks."
Seoha started up the stairs first. A beat behind, Yeoncheong hurried slightly to match her stride.
They returned to the classroom through the back door and their eyes met the teacher's—already waiting. Her gaze dropped to the bundle of books.
"With Seoha... and the transfer student?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good work. Hurry and take your seats."
The two sat down, and Yeoncheong untied the rope and searched through the pile for her textbooks.
She breathed a sigh of relief—no more desk-pushing needed, since there were no more missing books. Putting the awkwardness aside, she honestly didn't trust herself to sit through a lesson properly with their shoulders touching anyway.
As she searched through the stack, glancing at the desks around her for guidance, Seoha offered a helping hand.
"That one's for literature."
Yeoncheong nodded and kept flipping through the books one by one—then froze.
Of course. Of all the classes...
The teacher, having finished her preparations, called Yeoncheong's name. Eyes squeezed shut, Yeoncheong lifted her head from the desk.
"Did you find your textbook?"
"Um... I haven't gotten the literature one yet."
"I see. Share with Seoha, then."
Yeoncheong rose from her seat and once again pushed her desk together with Seoha's.
She didn't get a single thing out of the literature class, either. Given how her first math class had gone, it was the only possible outcome.