Why Are You Doing This to Me?
"Why are you doing this to me?"
From grabbing her bag in the club room to walking out the school gate together, Yeoncheong had been subjected to a nonstop barrage of commentary. Do I need to teach you how to count numbers now? You shouldn't mess around in public places like restrooms.
It was the day after Yeoncheong had fled, her ears burning from words she never, ever wanted to hear.
Though still later than most of her friends, she had come to school earlier than usual today—and on the first-floor stairs, she ran straight into her homeroom teacher, who was just stepping out of the teachers' office.
"Morning, Ms. Jisu."
"Yeoncheong... so now you don't even think about running when you see me, hm?"
Climbing the stairs beside her, Teacher Jisu shook her head as if the girl were beyond saving.
"If I walk in with you, at least I'm not late, right?"
Teacher Jisu was the type who always arrived at the classroom exactly on time.
Which meant that right now, climbing the stairs together, Yeoncheong had more leeway than she ever would meeting her at the classroom door.
"Someday I really am going to make you late, just to teach you a lesson..."
Yet for all her grumbling, she was also the teacher who, whenever their eyes met at the door, would wait for Yeoncheong to enter the classroom first.
Yeoncheong knew this full well, so she brushed the threat off with an easy laugh.
"Oh, come on~ You're joking, right?"
"..."
"Ms. Jisu...?"
Teacher Jisu said nothing, only smiled sweetly—then bolted for the classroom the moment they reached the top of the stairs.
"Ms. Jisu! Wait, time out! Ms. Jisu!"
Panicked, Yeoncheong scrambled after her, shouting at the teacher's retreating back.
"Don't even think about coming in through the front door!"
"Oh, come on!"
Yeoncheong, who had been darting toward the front entrance, shot her teacher one withering glare and swerved toward the back.
Bang.
The front and back doors of the classroom flew open at the same instant, making the chattering students flinch in surprise.
Yeoncheong, gripping the doorframe, glanced over at the front door. It stood open, but her teacher's feet were still outside it.
Meanwhile, having crossed the threshold by a hair's breadth, Yeoncheong sneaked a look at her homeroom teacher and grumbled under her breath.
"And you're the one always telling us not to run in the hallways..."
"Whew... a kid carrying a full backpack shouldn't be that fast..."
Her teacher was muttering much the same thing right back at her.
Only the classmates, who had no idea what was going on, stared at the two of them in utter bewilderment.
"Have a good day, everyone."
The homeroom teacher left with the chime, and the classroom dissolved into its usual end-of-class bustle.
Nayun poked at Yeoncheong, once, twice.
"What on earth happened that you were racing the teacher here?"
"...Let's call it a race where the stakes were being late."
Hasol, pulling out the textbook and notebook she'd need for first period behind them, joined the conversation.
"Yeoncheong, I've always wondered—why do you cut it so close every morning? You live close by."
"The closer someone is, the later they run. It's a law of nature. Besides, given that I still put in the effort not to actually be late, I'd say I deserve praise, if anything."
Yeoncheong's brazenness went beyond confidence and straight into shameless.
Nayun burst out laughing, while Hasol chided her—is that supposed to be something to brag about?
"Right. It's not like being late is your problem right now, anyway."
"Huh?"
Yeoncheong had barely tilted her head at Nayun's abrupt change of subject when—
"I heard you climbed the thirteenth step yesterday?"
At Nayun's knowing, singsong smirk, Yeoncheong's face flared scarlet.
There was exactly one culprit who could have told them what happened.
"Baek Suyeon..."
Yeoncheong gritted her teeth and glared at Suyeon, who was sitting beside Seoha—and Suyeon flashed her the brightest grin in the world, thumb raised high.
Judging by the amusement bleeding into Hasol's expression too, everything from that day had apparently made its way into her friends' ears.
Nayun pressed her lips together, fighting to swallow the laughter leaking through anyway.
"Why do you never tell us about the fun stories?"
"This is exactly why! This is exactly why I don't!"
Yeoncheong lunged, but Nayun leaned back and dodged with practiced ease.
Swinging at empty air, Yeoncheong turned a murderous look on her infuriating friend.
"Han Nayun, you..."
"Well, look on the bright side—you got a cute new nickname out of it."
"What are you talking about now?"
"Idiot Yeoncheong."
The moment yesterday's nickname came out of Nayun's mouth, Yeoncheong shot up out of her seat.
"Seriously?! How much did you tell them?"
"Oh, everything. From how you tried to hold her hand because you couldn't die alone, all the way to you splashing water on some poor girl whose name you didn't even know."
In other words, start to finish, every last detail.
Nayun rolled the nickname around in her mouth several times, shuffling the syllables like a toy.
"Idiot Yeoncheong... Yeoncheong the idiot... Hmm, I think the first one rolls off the tongue better. What about you?"
"I hate both."
With Yeoncheong snarling her refusal, the question naturally passed to Hasol.
"Hasol, what about you?"
"Me?"
Yeoncheong looked at her with eyes full of hope.
If none of the others, then surely Hasol would give her a proper, cutting verdict.
Hasol carefully read Yeoncheong's face before venturing an answer.
"...Derp Yeoncheong?"
"Hasol...?"
Truly, the axe you trust is the one that lands on your foot.
Hasol avoided her gaze. Yeoncheong gaped, jaw frozen in shock.
Watching the drama unfold beside her, Nayun clutched her stomach and cackled.
Perhaps sensing the mood, Hasol hurried to explain herself.
"I just thought 'derp' sounded a little cuter than 'idiot'..."
Yeoncheong turned to her two friends with an expression gone gravely serious.
"Do I... do I really look that dumb to you?"
"N-no! Not at all! Absolutely not!"
Hasol's eyes went round as saucers as she waved her hands in frantic denial—
And even Nayun, for once, offered a perfectly reasonable point.
"Come on, you know that. You can't say that kind of stuff to someone who's genuinely dumb."
"R-right...?"
Of course, between Nayun's reasoning and Hasol's flustered reassurance, the words carried no malice that Yeoncheong could hear. Even so, the nickname left her feelings in a strangely murky place.
With midterm exams drawing near, the teachers were accelerating through the material to cover every last item on the test scope.
Once again, the students had been battered by the usual storm of lessons, and at last the final bell brought them relief.
As her classmates packed their bags and dispersed to their clubs or study sessions, Seoha came over to Yeoncheong, who was tidying her desk.
"Yeoncheong, let's go."
"Huh?"
"You forgot, didn't you. We have the festival meeting today."
"Oh. Right."
She had forgotten completely, thanks to friends who had spent the entire day badgering her about which nickname she preferred.
Just in case, Yeoncheong pulled her notebook and pens from her bag and glanced around the room.
"Suyeon."
"Yeah?"
"I'm heading to the meeting. I'll be back after."
Suyeon glanced once at Seoha, then nodded.
"...Got it. Want me to grab your bag?"
"I'd love that."
Having left word with Suyeon, Yeoncheong set off for the student council room together with Seoha and her friend the vice class president.
She used the short walk to satisfy her curiosity.
"So what is it you do for the school festival, exactly, that it needs actual meetings?"
"Oh, right—you transferred in, so you wouldn't know."
The vice class president, walking beside her, gave a simple explanation.
"Each class sets up a booth, and we all just hang out together."
"Booths? Sounds like something straight out of a Japanese school festival."
"Honestly, if you're being strict about it, yeah, it's closer to that."
The vice class president paused a beat before admitting as much.
"Do outsiders come too?"
"They used to, apparently. Not anymore."
Yeoncheong nodded slowly. It felt very much like the school had cut off the possibility of any incident before it could happen.
Seoha, walking a little ahead, turned her head to look at Yeoncheong.
"Anything you want to try doing?"
"Hmm..."
The festivals at her old school had been closer to talent shows, so almost nothing came to mind off the top of her head.
"I guess... something like a café comes to mind."
"That's the most common kind, yeah. It's the safest bet."
Listening to Seoha and the vice class president trade stories about what kinds of booths there'd been last year, Yeoncheong made her way toward the student council room.
At the sound of voices from inside, she tensed up—belatedly, and thoroughly.
Seoha looked at her friend and let out a soft laugh.
"If you're that nervous, want me to hold your hand?"
She held it out as casually as anything.
Yeoncheong realized a beat too late that she was being teased and shot her a sidelong glare.
"I'm fine."
"You sure?"
Facing Seoha's crinkled, laughing eyes, Yeoncheong took a deep, theatrical breath and squared her shoulders.
"Of course I'm fine. The most powerful person in this school is my friend, aren't you?"
"Huh?"
For an instant, something flickered in those red eyes—a flush of flusterment blooming there.
Yeoncheong just grinned at her and kept walking.
"Who wouldn't be calm walking in beside the student council president herself?"
"Ah."
At those words, Seoha recovered her composure—only a beat too late—and followed after her.
"...Well. Yes. That's how it is."
"Hm? What was that?"
Yeoncheong, who had stepped in first, turned around—but Seoha simply gave her a little push toward the door.
"Nothing."
And she pushed her inside, with just a hint of something warm behind it.
Ooh.
Visiting the student council room for the first time, Yeoncheong's eyes sparkled as she took in her surroundings.
Presumably because this was a meeting of every class president and vice president from the first and second years, the usual everyday supplies had been gathered in one corner—
While the desks and chairs were arranged in a long rectangle, exactly like the boardroom table where a drama's corporate chairman and his executives would sit.
As Yeoncheong and the vice class president fidgeted over where to sit, Seoha pointed to one side.
"You can sit there."
"Thanks."
Setting her notebook and pens down on the desk, Yeoncheong took her seat.
And naturally, her gaze drifted toward Seoha.
Seated in the center where she could see everyone, she was flanked by a girl—someone Yeoncheong was sure she'd seen before—who was glaring at her with absolutely ferocious intensity.
What...?
She twisted this way and that, wondering if something was on her uniform. She looked around, wondering if the girl was staring at someone behind her instead—
No, I'm pretty sure she's looking at me.
Wherever Yeoncheong turned, the girl's eyes followed.
Who even is she, and why is she looking at me like that?
Yeoncheong stared hard back at the girl, digging through her memory. She definitely recognized the face, but she must have only caught her in passing, because she couldn't for the life of her remember where or how she'd seen her.
The girl, apparently deciding that Yeoncheong had challenged her to a staring contest, widened her eyes to their fullest and refused to back down.
No, seriously—why are you doing this to me?
Just then, Seoha—having somehow concluded that the girl was looking at her—gave a faint smile and a little wave.
It would've been rude to ignore her, so Yeoncheong offered a small wave in return, and—
The glare from the girl glaring at Yeoncheong turned positively murderous.
I'm going to lose my mind...
For reasons she couldn't begin to guess, Yeoncheong seemed to have made an enemy in some corner of her life she didn't even know existed—and so she simply prayed, with all her might, for this meeting to end as quickly as possible.