Livestock Pass
After slipping out of Seoul Forest with Teacher Eunju, we headed for the nearby campus of Cheonji University. Looking thoroughly lost, she drifted closer to my side.
“So why did you want to come here? I’m not even an alum…”
“You seemed uncomfortable about the two of us eating alone, Teacher. Around here it’s pretty much just college kids, so no one who knows us is likely to spot us, right? Plus if we have to sync up with the other side later, we can’t exactly go for a huge meal.”
“Ah… you’re right. You’re really sharp, aren’t you? Then why are you trying to quit school…”
Her voice trailed off with genuine pity. Sure, I was living a pretty pathetic life, but I’d chosen every bit of it myself, so she didn’t need to feel sorry.
Being the weekend, not many places on campus were open. Since the goal was just a light bite anyway, we stepped into the first sandwich shop that caught our eye.
We each grabbed a sandwich and a juice, then sat down at a table. Even the way she demurely tore open the sandwich wrapper looked so pure it was almost unreal…
“…?”
It hit me then—I was actually having lunch with Teacher Eunju right now. The guilt had been so heavy I’d completely forgotten what a stroke of luck this was.
“Come to think of it, Teacher, which school did you graduate from?”
“Me? I went to Jedang University over that way. Are you… disappointed?”
“What is there for me to be disappointed about? Wherever you went, you trained properly as an educator, didn’t you? And Jedang’s a school everyone else is dying to get into.”
“Hearing you say that makes me feel better…”
She curled the corners of her mouth in a small, relieved smile. Wait—were the students actually discriminating based on alma maters?
Well, Cheonji High and Cheonji University shared the same foundation. If most of the teachers on staff were Cheonji University grads, someone from the slightly lower-tier Jedang University might feel a little cowed.
“You said you lived in the dorms and now you’re on your own, right? Where’s your family home originally?”
“Yangpyeong. When I first started school I actually tried commuting, but it drained me so badly I barely managed to get into the dorms.”
“Really? My place is in Gapyeong—we basically lived in neighboring towns.”
Granted, you’d have to cross a few mountains, but the borders did touch. Teacher Eunju’s eyes sparkled with surprise.
“Really? Harin said she used to live in Gapyeong too. So you two were living together back then?”
“Ah—no! It’s just… there’s a clan village in Gapyeong, and the branch families live around it. Until my fifteenth-cousin uncle contacted me, I didn’t even know some kid named Harin was in the family register.”
The high-school-boy cosplay was over, yet the old habit was flaring up again. Luckily Teacher Eunju seemed to trust me completely and didn’t press any further.
“Then why the sudden transfer to Seoul?”
“After my parents passed, we decided to take help from relatives living in Seoul. Not that fifteenth-cousin uncle, of course.”
“Now that you mention it, Harin’s father’s voice sounded a lot like yours. More precisely, it was similar when he got a little worked up…”
“Blood relatives can share similar vocal patterns. What about you, Teacher? Any siblings?”
Only child, she said. An ordinary conversation with an adult woman for once. This was exactly what I’d wanted from that blind date with Sehui.
“So do you have any hobbies, Teacher? Even when you’re prepping materials you must have a little free time now and then.”
“Ah… nothing really hobby-like, but I learned a bit of guitar in college. I’m not great—just enough to match chords on a classical guitar…”
“That’s a pretty high-class hobby. I can play guitar too.”
On the boat, the real rush only hit during actual fishing. While we were just steaming out to the grounds, free time piled up once the basic chores were done.
The crew had every weird specialty under the sun. I’d picked up guitar from Santana, a Mexican stowaway sailor.
“Really? Do you know this song?”
I’d finally found someone I could actually talk to. We dove so deep into guitar talk that the meal completely fell by the wayside.
“How did you end up learning guitar, though?”
“That? Ugh… after classes I was heading back to the dorm when someone in the central courtyard was offering free guitar lessons. Seemed like too good a chance to pass up, so I followed them—only later the guitar got sidelined and they just kept telling me to believe in Jesus.”
“That’s Shincheonji, isn’t it? Please tell me you didn’t join.”
“Ah… my mother’s a devout Buddhist, so that was never happening. Still, I walked away with guitar skills, so maybe it worked out?”
Thank god. Falling into a cult was a one-way ticket, and with Teacher Eunju’s soft ears it would’ve been especially bad. Mother-in-law really did a huge service there…
Shake it off!
Get a grip. This isn’t a date—it’s just an extension of counseling.
The counseling itself was built on fiction to begin with, and Teacher Eunju and I were never going to work out anyway.
“Ah… come to think of it, I still don’t even know your name.”
Right then she dropped a lethal question. Anyone else might have been fine, but the second I gave my real name to a school teacher, my cover would be blown.
“Do I… really have to say my name?”
“What kind of talk is that? Don’t you need a name to call someone?”
“That’s true, but… it just feels like it makes things ordinary, and I hate that. My friends, my teachers, the people in the neighborhood—they all call me by my name. I don’t want you to become just another ordinary person in my life, Teacher. I want you to be more special than anyone.”
“Ah… if you suddenly say something like that…”
Whether it was the sugar spike from the sandwich or pure nonsense scrambling her brain, Teacher Eunju looked a little dizzy.
“So could you at least call me something else instead of my name?”
“For example…?”
Babe, honey, baby—plenty of things I wanted, none of them usable. Just go with initials.
“TK…”
“TK… as in Daegu-Gyeongbuk?”
“No. Just two letters I like put together. From now on, please call me TK.”
“…”
Teacher Eunju was clearly suffering a severe values crisis. As a Korean language teacher, should she indulge a student’s childish request, or give a sharp lecture on the preciousness of pure Korean?
“Th-then I’ll do that. I just call you TK… right?”
Kyaaaaaaah! At last Teacher Eunju had called my name.
It was only initials, sure, but the first person to call me anything like that since Mom died.
“Ah… anyway, deciding to keep going to school was the right call. You might not feel how important further education is right now, but when a critical moment comes and you’re not ready, you might regret it.”
“Is that your own story, Teacher?”
“D-did it show? I just… anyway, there might come a time when it’s now or never. So I hope you don’t end up regretting things the way I did.”
“Like The Old Man and the Sea. Challenging the marlin because you believe if you don’t catch it now, you never will.”
“You’ve read it? That’s my favorite book!”
“Of course. In middle school my teacher said it always came up on essay tests, so I read it several times.”
“Es… say? You were studying essays in middle school? Did you have a particular school in mind?”
“Cheonji Science High. Originally I wanted to go there, then into Cheonji University’s med school and become a doctor. In the end I never even got to take the exam…”
“But if you were aiming that high, your grades must have been pretty solid, right? What’s your current internal ranking?”
“…”
I couldn’t answer. At graduation it had been a perfect 1.0, but that was only possible because it was Maritime High.
If I’d gone to Cheonji High, where would I have landed? Even if I could calculate it, I couldn’t tell the truth.
“Around eighth grade, roughly. The so-called livestock pass.”
“People usually say ‘human disqualification’… how did you drop that far? Was it because of your parents’ passing after all…”
“That, and then my older brother dying right after—there was just no atmosphere for studying.”
“Hup… I-I’m sorry! I asked something I shouldn’t have…”
“I’ve already gotten past all of it, so it’s fine. Anyway, thank you for talking with me today.”
“I feel like I didn’t do anything… I didn’t even give you any proper teacherly advice—just ordinary conversation—and somehow you changed your mind on your own…”
Grab.
Whenever Teacher Eunju sank into self-reproach, it felt like I was looking at myself. Without thinking I took her trembling hand and spoke.
“You exist in my life. That alone changed everything. So saying you did nothing doesn’t make any sense.”
“…”
Teacher Eunju stared into my eyes without even breathing. Her eyes looked ready to pop out like a frog startled by a natural predator, yet the moment she confirmed our firmly clasped hands, an unconscious smile of relief bloomed on her face.
Better let go of the hand for now.
The short meal was over; it was truly time to part. Teacher Eunju stood in front of the subway entrance connected to the Cheonji University campus and offered her goodbye.
“Thanks for the flower crown. I’ll take it home and keep it.”
Holding the crown in both hands, she flushed with embarrassment. She wasn’t seriously planning to walk out with that, was she?
“Um… Teacher? Will you be all right? Your friends are going to ask where you got it.”
“Can’t I just say you made it for me?”
“…”
Right. To Teacher Eunju I was just another ordinary student at the school.
There was probably a whole truckload of boys who liked her besides me; getting one little thing like this would just make everyone laugh it off.
“Thank you for today. I’d like to repay you somehow, so if anything hard comes up for you, Teacher, please contact me. I’m always on your side.”
“Ah… if you go that far…”
She flushed again and tucked a stray lock behind her ear. Mmm… watching that, I really didn’t want to let her go.
In the end she was meeting that senior guy. There was still a full day left, and they’d be flower-viewing until late afternoon.
No matter that I’d already taken her flower-viewing and even made her a crown, I was still just a student. Compared to that senior who could share values with her as an equal, I was nothing more than an emotional trash can.
“Ah… and going to see the flowers was nice too. Last year I was so buried in studying I never even thought about flower-viewing.”
“Aren’t you going again this afternoon anyway?”
“Th-that’s true, but doesn’t it feel a little different?”
“How so?”
“If you ask me like that I don’t know how to answer…”
Teacher Eunju herself couldn’t explain what the difference was. Well, of course the two wouldn’t feel exactly the same.
Meeting me had been a kind of misfortune. Counseling had somehow happened, she’d ended up late for her appointment, and flowers just happened to be blooming at that spot.
The appointment waiting for her now, though, was thoroughly private. She could set down the teacher role and return to her complete self—how could that not be enjoyable?
Rumble-rumble…
A train was arriving. When I pointed it out she hurriedly tapped her card and slipped through the gate.
Even then she didn’t forget to wave her hand vigorously at me, the flower crown I’d made carefully cradled against her chest.
Thanks to Teacher Eunju I’d managed to spend the morning without feeling lonely. But the huge mountain of the afternoon still remained.
If this was an alibi, shouldn’t I at least stick around until dinnertime? What did ordinary guys in their thirties even do alone with free time?
Bzzzt~
My phone started ringing. I checked just in case, and sure enough… Eunju’s name was on the screen.
“Yeah, Eunju. Weren’t you at camp right now?”
“It’s lunchtime. What about you, Oppa—did you eat?”
“Me? I came over to Cheonji University and had a light sandwich.”
“Cheonji University…? Why suddenly there? Did you change your mind and get ambitious about college?”
“No. I was just looking for a cheap place for lunch and wandered in by chance. What about you?”
“Looks like we’re eating at the camp cafeteria, but I stepped out alone for a bit because I wanted to talk to Oppa.”
“…”
Couldn’t she just go eat? She was probably planning another round of persuasion that wouldn’t land about not quitting school—except I wasn’t even attending that school in the first place.
But the moment I’d accepted Teacher Eunju’s persuasion, the high-school-boy cosplay had automatically been extended.
In that case, wouldn’t it be better to come clean to Eunju and ease her burden a little?
“Eunju? I’ve been thinking it over carefully, and I figure I should give quitting school some more thought after all.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Hm? Well… your persuasion got to me. Anyone else and I might not care, but it’s hard to refuse a request from you.”
“…”
Had I laid on the lie a little too thick without thinking it through? Eunju had been endlessly trying to persuade me, true, but the decisive reason the cosplay got extended was Teacher Eunju.
From Eunju’s perspective the logic had to feel shaky. If I didn’t say something decisive she’d start thinking it was weird…
“The flowers here are blooming like crazy. Way more abundant than Yangjae Stream last time.”
“Oh… really? That’s nice.”
But what do you know—Eunju didn’t show a shred of suspicion. Instead she switched topics so fast it was like she had zero interest in that stuff.
The new topic was just hard to pin down. Why was she suddenly talking about flowers?
“Kind of a shame, though. If we were going to do flower-viewing anyway, maybe we should’ve gone somewhere wider.”
“Don’t you have free time there? Since you went with Yoona, take a walk in the leftover time.”
“That’s a little… different, isn’t it?”
“…?”
She was saying almost the same thing as Teacher Eunju. If I had to find a common thread, it was that flower-viewing with me came packaged with a sense of duty and awkwardness.
“So Oppa’s heading home now?”
“Yeah. Lunch is done, so maybe I’ll go crash for a nap.”
“Really? No thought of coming over toward Nodeul Island for a walk or something?”
“…?”
That was exactly where she was. Suggesting I come all the way there for a walk basically meant a second round of flower-viewing with Yoona, right?
“Eunju, like I said earlier, I’m going to think a bit more about dropping out.”
“Haa… so Oppa basically has nothing to talk about with me except that?”
“It’s not exactly that…”
“Park Eunju, what are you doing? Aren’t you eating?”
Click!
The call cut off right there. More precisely, a male voice had come through from the other side of the phone, and then the line suddenly died!
Stay calm. It was a joint leadership camp with nearby schools, so having guys mixed in was completely normal. But how long had the camp even been going, and they were already dropping honorifics?
No—maybe I was measuring relationship steps by thirty-something-guy standards.
They were kids, mostly the same age, so the chance they’d dropped formal speech right after introductions was high. True to the generation that does everything fast, they’d probably swap Instagrams immediately.
Who was to say they wouldn’t be DMing all night once they got home? Then naturally set up a private meet, and once they started meeting, naturally…
Shake it off!
What the hell was I thinking? The other party was a minor—my daughter’s classmate, no less.
Whether Eunju got close to a boy her age or not was none of my business. Same with Teacher Eunju—wherever either of them went and whatever they did had nothing to do with me.
“…”
Even so, my mood kept sinking. I hadn’t actually lost anything of mine, yet the crushing sense of loss was hard to bear.
Everyone else was out enjoying life—what the hell was I doing? The “for Harin’s sake” excuse sounded noble, but how was I supposed to spend this beautiful day with no one to meet, just watching other people soak up the honey?
Bzzzt!
Yet for someone with zero people to meet, my phone never stopped. Wondering who it could be this time, I checked the screen—huh? Hyeonji?
Hadn’t she deleted my number after I took the bike? By principle this was a call I shouldn’t answer.
Unlike the two Eunjus who still had leftover promises hanging, business with this side was completely finished. I’d told Hyeonji I was quitting school, and by snatching the bike I’d ended even the false relationship.
But maybe the extreme loneliness had swallowed me. Before I knew it I was pressing accept.
“H-hello?”
“Come out.”
“What, you pick up and immediately tell me to come out with no greeting? What if I’m not even home?”
“The bike’s here.”
“…?”
What… the hell… was that supposed to mean? How did Hyeonji know that? More importantly, judging by the pronoun “here”…
“Are you crazy? You’re at the Nobel Apartments right now? Hey, who are you to barge into someone else’s place without permission?”
“Nobody stopped me.”
Well yeah, there was no security there—it was basically a shortcut elementary kids freely used on the way to school. That wasn’t what I was asking!
“Hey, you didn’t run into Harin, did you?”
“Not yet.”
“Haa… fine. Get out of there right now. I’m at Cheonji University so…”
“I’ll head over.”
Click!
Just like Eom Chaewon, conversation was completely impossible. The weird part was that somehow communication still happened and we’d even set a meeting place.
Somehow it was turning into a day where people to meet never ran out.