Childhood Friend Seo Yerin Self-Destructs

"Hey, isn't that Han Junyoung? That loser?"

I'd nearly tripped right into it. The shrill voice at my back was one I recognized.

Ha......

I barely managed to swallow the sigh. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was — the trio of delinquents who'd made my high school years a living hell.

Lee Dona.

The pack's self-appointed big sister, the one who had treated me like an earthworm for all three years of high school while dumping her performance assessments and every petty errand onto my shoulders. As payment she'd mostly buy me tteokbokki or the like and act like she'd done me some great favor.

And I hated tteokbokki.

A willowy 173 centimeters, and with heels on she stood nearly eye to eye with me. But meeting her gaze felt entirely different. Her eyes sat maybe a finger's width below mine, yet somehow she always managed to look down at me.

Yoon Soyoung.

The pack's enforcer, a thug of a girl who'd smack the back of my head whenever the mood struck her and swear like it was her native language. When boredom took her she'd hang off my back or yank my hair by way of entertainment. From the waist down she dressed like a pervert who'd forgotten her skirt — pantyhose and nothing else — and she radiated the same man-wrangling, slutty stench back then as she did now. The dumbest of the three, which was exactly why the other two propped her up and used her.

And Jung Haeun.

The shortest of the trio, light-brown hair worn loose, demure at a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glance. She played modest, played shy, but I knew her true nature. All sweetness to your face, and behind it the worst kind of venom — the type who'd subtly fan the flames of Dona and Soyoung's bullying rather than dirty her own hands. When she wanted something she never asked me directly; she'd work the other two until I did it for her. Her back stooped slightly under those enormous breasts, and she'd used their weight as an excuse to lean against me more than once. Black-hearted and insidious, a viper of a girl. The way she only ever latched on when she wanted something — I still can't make sense of it.

I really hate this...

I never imagined I'd have to hear those shrill voices at university too. Why the hell are they even here? Did they pick the wrong school? No — did they even have the brains to get into one in the first place?

Pretending not to hear, I adjusted my bag strap and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠quickened my pace. Getting tangled up with them would mean nothing but a headache.

"Hey! Han ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Junyoung! Are you deaf or what?"

But my indifference went to waste. Footsteps thundered across the pavement, and they cut off my path for good.

"Hey, we called y... huh?"

The moment the bleached-blonde enforcer came face to face with me, a stupid sound fell out of her mouth.

"Huh...?"

"What? What's wrong?"

"It is him, Han Junyoung. Long time, no... huh?"

The long-haired one and the big-chested one playing innocent, who'd been trailing behind, also took one look at my face and dropped their jaws.

I wiped my expression clean and didn't meet their eyes. How do I shake off these bitches? I had no particular regrets at this point, but this was a pain in the ass. I had toyed with the idea of running them as barracks earlier, but why bother with these three? I was still racking my brain for the least annoying way to slip away when their whispers reached me.

"Hey... holy crap. That's not Han Junyoung. You said it was him."

"No, from far away the vibe was similar..."

"It's not him, obviously. The whole atmosphere is different."

...They can't even recognize me?

So this was what a Tier 3 appearance stat bought me. Unbelievable.

The bleached blonde — the enforcer herself — had been raking her eyes over me, then suddenly she swept her hair back and let out a nasal coo, the viciousness of moments ago gone without a trace.

"Excuse me, um... haven't we met somewhere before?"

"...Sorry?"

"Nooo, it's just~ you look sooo familiar. What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?"

The big-chested one playing innocent sidled up close, smiling with her eyes.

"Right? Did we run into each other downtown or something? Are you on social media?"

I kept it short.

"You've got the wrong person."

"Oh, wait a second! Wait, I know I've seen you somewhere...!"

Instead of answering, I walked. The second one darted ahead as if to block my way, but I bumped her shoulder and kept moving.

"Wow, what a jerk."

"Was that really not Han Junyoung?"

"Han Junyoung could never look like that. Not with that bitch Seo Yerin having ruined him."

I heard the whispers but didn't look back, just walked faster. Having shaken off the trio, I was heading toward the campus plaza when a familiar figure appeared in the distance.

Seo Yerin.

"Hey! Han Junyoung! Did you see those—"

Yerin, marching along with her brows knitted in irritation, flew into a tantrum the instant she spotted me. I'd known since forever that she didn't get along with delinquent packs; apparently she'd just crossed paths with those loud girls.

But then, striding right up to me, her footsteps stopped dead. Her eyes went round, and she stared blankly at my face.

"...What are you?"

The edge had drained right out of her voice.

"What about me?"

At my flat reply, Yerin scrunched her brows and looked me up and down, over and over.

"...What are you looking at?"

"..."

Yerin narrowed her eyes and thrust her face suddenly toward mine.

"Did you... put something on your face?"

"No?"

"Don't lie to me."

Seo Yerin scoffed, then glared at me.

"Since when does a guy whose entire routine was a bar of soap start slathering stuff all over his face? At this stage of the game?"

Her tone was as sharp as ever, but the usual venom was missing. Her cheeks were flushed, if anything, like she was the flustered one.

Now it finally felt real. The app's appearance-enhancement skill had apparently taken hold — the only problem being that I couldn't tell what had actually changed about myself.

Yerin gave me another thorough once-over.

"You really didn't put anything on?"

"Yeah, I grabbed some random thing and slapped it on."

When I fed her that line, Yerin coughed as if she'd expected exactly that and let her gaze slide away.

"...Why start putting stuff on now, anyway? Just go as you are."

She tossed the words out and swept her hair back, but she couldn't hide the faint red burning on her ears. Still avoiding my eyes, she kept grumbling.

"Just go as you are. Don't waste your time on that crap."

"Mind your own business."

At that, Yerin snapped back into her usual prickly voice and glared at me.

"...So, what time are you coming home today?"

"Why? Got more errands for me?"

"Can't a girl just ask? Come home late again and I swear I'll lock the front door and throw out every last thing you own!"

Normally I'd have brushed it off — ah, the psycho's throwing another fit — because her losing her mind was nothing new. But after yesterday I couldn't help feeling a little guilty. Last night's hardcore first anal session with Jieun had drained me dry, and when I got home I'd pretended not to notice Yerin, who'd been brimming with expectation, and gone straight to sleep.

Half out of guilt, I gave a vague nod.

"Fine. I'll take care of what I need to and head straight back. Early, okay?"

My easy compliance softened her expression a touch.

"...Hmph. Just try being late."

Snorting, she turned primly away and clip-clopped off toward campus. Watching her retreating back, I pulled my phone from my pocket.

The new feature: currency exchange. It felt like some shackle that had been sitting in a corner of my mind had finally come loose. There was nothing left to hesitate over.

I opened the app and pulled up Yerin's status window.

To properly soothe her today, I'd need play we hadn't tried before. To combine a new weakness with the ones she already had...

"What would work best?"

Scrolling through the screen, I found just the thing.

"This one."

This would suit Yerin's tastes perfectly. I tapped the purchase button and started walking.

"I'm ho...me?"

I hadn't really expected an answer. That girl had never once given a proper one. The problem was the atmosphere. The apartment was unnaturally quiet — only a tense silence hung in the air, and no reply came.

"And here she was acting like she'd kill me if I didn't come home early."

Why on earth was it so quiet? The moment I stepped into the living room, the source of the wrongness was staring me in the face: a delivery box lay mangled and torn open on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

"...Ah, right."

There was a certain cat-burglar of a girl in this household who opened any package that arrived, regardless of whose name was on it. Didn't she have classes ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠today? I'd ordered it expecting to beat her home, but Yerin had gotten back first. Up close, the box was already empty — meaning the hardcore new toy I'd ordered was already in her hands.

"This impatient little........."

A sigh. Another sigh. I tossed my bag down and knocked on the thief's door.

"Seo Yerin. You're in there, aren't you?"

Before I'd even finished, a panicked shriek burst through the door.

"D-Don't come in! Don't! Go away!"

"..."

Racket echoed from inside the room.

Crash, clatter, whine — what's wrong with it! Click, clatter, click — aagh, this thing is driving me insane!

Eek, no! Click click!

Aaaagh!

"..."

What on earth was she doing in there? Why was metal clanging against metal? What was she even doing? Pressing my ear closer, I could make out Yerin's whimpering monologue, word for word.

"Ugh, why won't it come off... so annoying, seriously... the key, where'd the key go......!"

"..."

A key. Metal clanging. Figures. The situation painted itself too clearly, and another sigh escaped me. I spoke through the door.

"I'm sighing, Yerin. Sighing at how pathetic you are."

"...Shut up!"

"I'm coming in."

"Get lost! Don't come in! I said get lost!"

"Really? I'll just leave, then?"

"...Get lost!"

"Yeah? I'm really leaving? I'm tired, so I'll just sleep?"

"..."

Beyond the door, silence fell as if by magic.

"Leave? Or come in? Which is it?"

"..."

Still no answer. And no answer meant, in effect, hurry up and come in.

Click.

The moment I opened the door and stepped in, a scene more absurd than anything I could have imagined spread out before me.

"Hey........."

On the bed, Seo Yerin wore the freshly delivered black leather collar around her neck. And she wasn't wearing just the collar. Cuffs locked both her wrists to the metal bars of the headboard — she was mounted on the bed like a stuffed specimen, unable to move a muscle.

"...You went through my room again? When did you even dig that out?"

The moment she saw me, Yerin flushed crimson and strained against her bonds, kicking legs included.

"Hurry! Hurry up and get this off me!"

Instead of answering, I swept my gaze under the bed. The cuff key lay on the floor by Yerin's feet.

"Pfft."

"Don't laugh! I'll seriously kill you! Get me out of this, now!"

I could see the whole scenario.

"You opened someone else's package. That wasn't enough, so you just had to put the thing on. That wasn't enough either, so you cuffed yourself. And even that wasn't enough, so you dropped the key. Quite the little show you're putting on."

Yerin had a fit.

"It's not like that?! I was just trying it on for a second to see what it was, and the key slipped and rolled away, that's all!"

"Make some sense for once."

I was so dumbfounded a laugh burst out of me.

"Why were you opening my packages in the first place?"

When I asked, exasperated, Yerin fired back, face scarlet.

"You're going to use it on me anyway! If the person it's for wants a peek first, what's the crime in that?!"

The audacity of the accused playing prosecutor wrung a hollow laugh out of me.

"Did you even know what this was before you tore it open?"

"It's a collar! Why are you buying this stuff? So pointless. Dropping out of college to pivot into fashion? Is that what the face paint and the pretty-boy act are for too?"

Yerin laced her words with thorns and hurled them nonstop. Knowing the real reason, all I could do was laugh.

"Who knows. Then do you know what this is?"

I bent down and picked up the silver chain and clamps lying carelessly on the floor. Yerin glanced at them, then shouted right back at full volume.

"They're clamps! Why would you pay money for those? We don't have clamps at home? There's some rolling around in the kitchen drawer. Is your money just rotting away?"

She rattled on without pausing for breath. But her pupils trembled, fine and quick — her anxiety was written all over her. I held the clamps in front of her nose and swayed them leisurely.

"Why do you think the tips are like this?"

"Like what!"

"Why would the tips be coated in soft silicone like this?"

"........."

At my question, Yerin clamped her mouth shut. Her face went red as a boiled beet, and her breathing turned ragged.

"And where do you suppose this chain goes?"

I jingled the clip at the end of the chain and pointed at the black leather collar around Yerin's neck. A small silver ring hung at its center. Yerin went white as a sheet and stared down at her own chest. Apparently it was finally clicking.

A chain to link the collar with the clamps on both nipples, binding them together.

"U-Untie this! Who do you think I am, some sex slave......!"

"..."

Sex slave, she says. I never went that far. Impressive, Seo Yerin. Truly. Where does she even learn words like that?

"...Sure. It's the kind of gear you'd use on a sex slave, after all."

"Nnngh......!"

Yerin thrashed against her restraints.

"I said get me out! Untie me and get lost!"

I smiled, slow and easy.

"Don't want to."

"Ugh......!"

Yerin stared at the clamps and swallowed hard, then, struck by some thought, her breath hitched. I could see her breathing quicken with my own eyes.

"N-No, don't....!" Yerin said, trembling.

"R-Right now, untie me right now, I-I'm not a slave. I would never, ever do something like that....!"

Without a word, I pointed a finger at Yerin's chest. Her nipples stood out stiffly against the thin camisole. The color drained from her face.

"A thief who gets caught has to take her punishment and become a slave. Isn't that right?" I said with a faint smile.

"No, I don't want to, I don't...! I-I'd never, ever do that...!"

For all her words, a dark stain was spreading across Yerin's dolphin shorts.