Cleaning Up After a Long Absence
The alarm went off for the first time in ages.
Yeoncheong wriggled under the covers until her head poked out, then fumbled half-blindly for her smartphone and silenced the alarm. A yawn spilled out of her on its own; the fatigue hadn't fully faded yet.
Still, the memory of mornings repeated day after day was etched into her body. Swaying as she got ready, Yeoncheong stepped into the bathroom—and—
"Huh?"
When she came to, she was standing in front of the full-length mirror as always, checking her uniform for wrinkles. Looking at her own reflection, she snorted a small laugh.
It felt like only yesterday that she'd thrown an epic one-woman meltdown getting ready for school, yet somehow she'd come this far. That was how much she'd adapted.
She had a promise to keep, so even though there was still time to spare, Yeoncheong left the house early.
Unnamed wildflowers had bloomed and wilted along the roadside, lending the walk to school a faint breath of freshness. Yeoncheong passed through the school gate at a leisurely stroll, taking in her surroundings as she went.
She froze just short of the doors, steeling herself with a deep breath—and right at that moment:
"What are you doing? Get inside already."
A shove between the shoulder blades sent her stumbling through the doors with zero preparation.
Suyeon, whose hands still glistened with water from a quick trip to the restroom, rubbed them briskly against her uniform as she headed to her seat—and the classmates spotted Yeoncheong, back for the first time in over two weeks.
Her classmates came crowding over, calling her name. Why was she out so long? Was she seriously sick somewhere? Worried voices pressed in from all sides.
Yeoncheong shot a pleading look at Hasol, who sat beside her, but—
You've got to take your lumps sometime.
Hasol, murmuring the words with a prim little nod, graciously stepped aside for the classmates. By the time Yeoncheong had sweated her way through the interrogation, the next thing waiting for her was a summons from her homeroom teacher.
As soon as the bell rang for the break before first period, Teacher Jisu called Yeoncheong to the teachers' office.
Stepping inside, Yeoncheong's hands naturally gathered together in front of her, her head dipping slightly of its own accord. She'd only messaged that she was sick for the first few days and hadn't contacted anyone since. Her body's reaction was simply the natural anticipation of a well-earned scolding.
Teacher Jisu, having tidied her desk a little, looked up.
"Hm? Yeoncheong, why are you standing like that?"
"Aren't you calling me in to chew me out?"
The teacher blinked in surprise, then ushered Yeoncheong over, pulling up a chair for her and settling in to talk.
"I mean, there are things you deserve a scolding for... but that's not why I called you."
Teacher Jisu drew her chair a little closer.
The teacher's hands folded gently over the ones resting in Yeoncheong's lap, and those kind, soft-creased eyes met her blue ones. The warmth traveling through their joined hands and the earnestness in that gaze left Yeoncheong completely at a loss.
Teacher Jisu said she knew Yeoncheong must have had her reasons, and that she'd heard from friends about what had happened.
Then, as she spoke, the teacher edged closer bit by bit before carefully pulling Yeoncheong into her arms and patting her back.
"I called you here to say thank you for coming back. I was so worried you might never come at all."
This was the teachers' office, with other teachers around—but a tangle of emotions swept over Yeoncheong, and she buried her face in her homeroom teacher's shoulder.
How many minutes passed like that? When Yeoncheong finally pulled away, the teacher handed her a tissue. Having waited with warm eyes for her student to calm herself, Teacher Jisu's expression abruptly shifted.
"And what needs scolding still needs scolding."
Yeoncheong froze mid-dab at her eyes and shot her a wary look—and Teacher Jisu flicked her square on the forehead.
"Ow...!"
She learned then that the size of a hand, the thickness of a finger, and the amount of pain it could deliver were three entirely separate things.
Rubbing her forehead, Yeoncheong stared at her teacher.
"You told me at the start of the semester that if anything came up, I could just tell you. Why didn't I keep that promise? You mean why didn't you keep it."
"Well... that's..."
She did remember hearing something like that. She'd assumed it was said out of politeness, too.
Teacher Jisu flicked her forehead again, then smoothed her mussed bangs.
"I volunteered to take your class, you know. So from now on, I want you to talk to me when something's wrong. Got it?"
"...Yes, ma'am."
Only then did Teacher Jisu smile.
No long speeches were needed. A small bow and a single word—"yes"—said everything.
The bell rang to start first period and the teachers filed out to their classes, but Yeoncheong still had plenty left to discuss. She had to check her math scores, and there was the matter of her attendance to sort through as well. It wasn't until midway through first period that she was finally able to return to the classroom.
The teacher, remembering that Yeoncheong had been talking with her homeroom teacher in the office, continued the lesson without a word, and Yeoncheong slipped quietly back to her seat.
Finals were over, and only a few days remained before summer break.
With teachers playing movies and other videos in class, nearly every lesson had gone slack. And so, having slogged through a drowsy morning of classes, Yeoncheong found herself facing a time when she needed to be on high alert.
The moment the bell sounded, students streamed out of the classroom in droves, and Suyeon came sprinting over to pull Yeoncheong to her feet.
"Yeoncheong! Let's go get lunch!"
Yeoncheong's eyes, however, drifted to the person standing beside her.
Seoha smiled. After what had happened last night, Yeoncheong was dying of self-consciousness—yet Seoha wore the same placid expression as if nothing in the world were out of place.
Seoha collected her lunch as usual and sat down beside her, and Yeoncheong jerked upright, reacting far too dramatically.
"Hm? What's wrong?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
The corner of Seoha's mouth curved faintly as she watched her. At the very least, Yeoncheong could now be certain last night hadn't been a figment of her imagination.
After lunch, Suyeon and Seoha headed for the athletic field as if it were the most natural thing in the world—but before they could grab her, Yeoncheong slipped fluidly out from between them.
"Guys, I'm gonna go stop by the library today."
"Seobin?"
"Yeah."
Suyeon thought for a moment, then nodded. Seoha beside her said nothing, but the displeasure was plain on her face.
Still, the instant Suyeon gave her blessing, Yeoncheong shot away like an arrow. With those two glued to her side at all times, there was simply no way for her not to be aware of them.
True to form, Seobin was holding court in the library—and by lucky chance, Siyeon was there with her. The only thing different was how quiet the library had grown now that finals were over.
Spotting Yeoncheong, Seobin slotted every book she'd been holding back into place on the shelves and came over.
"Yeoncheong, are you feeling better now? From being sick?"
"Ah... yeah. I'm fine now."
Siyeon glanced at the two of them, then turned her eyes back to her book. Yeoncheong took a seat with one of Seobin's recommended picks, and Siyeon, sneaking a sideways look, asked in passing:
"Feeling better now?"
Not exactly a whisper. Yeoncheong cast a furtive glance at the librarian, but the room seemed empty enough that nobody was particularly bothered.
So Yeoncheong answered at roughly the same volume.
"Thanks to you."
"Huh?"
Siyeon looked up, puzzled—and Yeoncheong was grinning ear to ear.
"I heard you gave Suyeon advice. Thanks for that."
"Ad-advice? What advice? I just got sick of her sighing all over the place every single day, that's all."
Siyeon buried her face back in her book and grumbled on.
She didn't press about what had happened. Suyeon had asked her not to, and it was also her silent stance that unless Yeoncheong herself chose to tell, she wouldn't ask.
And so they sat side by side, words sinking into their eyes for a good long while.
"Oh, by the way—how'd the exam go?"
At the out-of-nowhere question, Yeoncheong looked up. Siyeon had set her book aside for the moment, waiting for an answer. It had been the same midway through finals—apparently, having tutored her, Siyeon couldn't help but be invested.
"I'm still waiting on my scores, but... I definitely did better than before."
"Yeah?"
Yeoncheong held up her index finger, looking proud.
"This time I only have one subject of supplementary lessons."
"What?"
It took only an instant for Siyeon's bright face to darken.
"You're taking supplementary lessons? After I tutored you? Which subject?"
"...Literature."
"Huh? Me too."
Seobin, passing by, thrust out a hand, and Yeoncheong instinctively raised hers to meet it in a high-five.
At the sharp smack, the librarian shot them a warning look, and Siyeon sighed.
"You two, don't celebrate that..."
It was beyond her: two friends high-fiving over sharing a remedial class.
The afternoon was hardly different from the morning. Students done with finals showed little enthusiasm for studying, and the teachers didn't bother hounding them for it. The justification was big enough: you can only fool around like this while you're still a second-year—this year is your last chance.
When the final period ended and the teacher left the classroom, the students, one by one, packed their bags for what little club time remained.
Yeoncheong glanced around warily, then fished a notebook out of her bag and slipped it into Hasol's.
On the receiving end of this reverse pickpocketing, Hasol stared at the culprit with wide, round eyes.
"Um... your birthday just sort of passed, right? I was actually planning to give you this on the day."
Claiming she was off to club, Yeoncheong dragged Suyeon out of the classroom like she was fleeing the scene of a crime.
What did she give me?
The moment Hasol pulled out the notebook, her eyes went wide all over again.
Inside, carefully recorded in handwritten script, was a collection of cooking recipes—not the kind found on the internet, but personal, one-of-a-kind ones. A single sticky note was stuck to the very last page.
I'm only giving this to you, so don't go showing it around.
Hasol tucked the notebook back into her bag and quietly gazed at the now-empty seat its owner had left behind.
Yeoncheong. This is exactly why nobody believed you when you said you used to be a boy...
And yet the face of Hasol thinking those very words glowed with a joy beyond all words.
Suyeon, swept along toward the annex, glanced back over her shoulder.
"What'd you give Hasol?"
"The birthday present I couldn't give her before."
With a small "Ah," Suyeon pumped the brakes.
"Now that you mention it, we never got to celebrate her birthday. And it was because of you, Yeoncheong."
"You could've celebrated without me."
Suyeon spun on her heel and fell into step beside her.
"Hey, though—after all that, how were we supposed to go out and have fun together? We just called it a day, obviously."
She scratched her jaw, muttering.
"Maybe we should throw her a surprise party over the break, just us."
"That's actually a good idea."
"Right? I'll have to secretly loop in Nayun and Seoha too."
As Yeoncheong made her way toward the club room, laying plans, a voice called her name.
She turned—and there stood Chairwoman Yurim.
"I'll head on ahead. Come find us when you're done talking."
With a knowing farewell, Suyeon slipped away. Silence settled over the corridor, now empty but for the two of them.
"Did I... do something wrong?"
Knowing full well she had, Yeoncheong shuffled over sheepishly.
Yurim, without a word of warning, pulled her into a hug. Yeoncheong shoved at her—in the middle of the hallway, what is this?—but the Chairwoman didn't let go.
"Thank you. You did well."
She only patted her back, and after those words, said nothing more.
Yeoncheong wanted to snap—just what do you take me for?—but it stayed a fantasy. Every time someone comforted her, the emotion surging up from somewhere deep below was beyond her control.
A small shudder. When the sound of a sniffle escaped, Yurim held her close for a long, long while, so that not a sound of it could slip out.
Wiping her reddened eyes, Yeoncheong muttered:
"What is with girls and hugging at the drop of a hat?"
"And is there anything wrong with that?"
Yurim snorted a laugh and gave her forehead a playful tap.
When Yeoncheong lifted her head, she continued: "People who suffer alone in silence need the warmth of another person. That's the prescription."
Chairwoman Yurim waved a hand as if to say that would do, and Yeoncheong gave a deep bow before heading off to the club room.
The frightening part: you can't escape it. Summer meant horror, didn't it?
The club members were bickering over what activities to plan for a mid-break meetup—the same old ordinary moment—when the club room door burst open without so much as a knock.
Who barges in like that, manners completely absent? Yeoncheong turned her head to see the intruder's face—and her brow furrowed.
"Seoyun? Senior Seoyun?"
Apparently on a break of her own, Senior Seoyun strode across the room in her tennis uniform, big unhurried steps.
As the senior advanced without a word, Yeoncheong sprang up from her seat and backed away—but there was nowhere left to retreat. Cornered in seconds, Yeoncheong twisted her body and attempted a breakout.
The result...
"Wow, throwing out a fake AND making a run for it—guess you're all patched up now."
Yeoncheong had been captured and now sat firmly on Seoyun's lap. She squirmed to escape, but it was resistance without meaning. Two or three more attempts to pry the arms loose, and she gave up in short order.
"Why are you even here? Club activities aren't over yet."
"Told you already, didn't I?"
Seoyun grinned wide and nuzzled her face, still sheened with sweat, against Yeoncheong's uniform.
"Ah! Senior, your sweat! SWEAT!"
Yeoncheong thrashed with all her might. Predictably, it accomplished nothing.
Only after wiping the sweat from her face did Seoyun release her.
"That reaction's still the best part. So? Does it feel real now? That you're actually back at school?"
"You came all the way here just to tell me that?"
"Well, yeah. My junior who was half-dead. I came to check whether she's okay again."
At those words, Yeoncheong's struggling stopped dead.
The friends who'd known her secret and come charging in. The classmates who'd welcomed her back with faces full of worry. Her homeroom teacher, Siyeon and Seobin from the library, Chairwoman Yurim who always looked out for her—and now Senior Seoyun, who'd come all this way out of concern, playing pranks to cover it.
The realization of just how many people had been worried about her washed over her anew, and the emotion crested.
"Ah... I don't usually do this..."
At the sound of her sobbing, Senior Seoyun panicked and started fidgeting helplessly.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong? Was wiping my sweat on you too much? Yeoncheong, don't cry. That was too much, I'm sorry."
"I'm not crying... That's not even why, so just go."
Who was going to believe someone sniffling while wiping her eyes on her sleeve?
"Ugh, seriously... this is so annoying..."
Yeoncheong was unreasonably furious—at her own emotions that refused to obey her, and at her tear glands that had mutinied. Shoving away Suyeon and Senior Seoyun, who'd rushed to soothe her from either side, she muttered:
"I'm not crying... I said I'm NOT crying..."
She had a feeling she'd shed more tears in these past two days than in her entire life before. And in front of other people, no less.
A historic, all-time-greatest embarrassment for the archives.
And that after school, once she'd gotten home, she'd spent nearly an hour with her face buried in her blankets—that secret belonged to Yeoncheong alone.
