You're the Bad One (3)
Lim Sowon.
Eldest daughter of a three-generation family of fire mages, and the only one among her two brothers and one sister who could command flame—effectively the sole heir destined to carry the family's renown forward.
Just as the sons of a three-generation restaurant dynasty are not all born with innate culinary genius, children of mage parents are not guaranteed to become mages themselves. Anyone can learn to handle mana with enough effort, but those who reach the level of commanding magical beasts are decided from birth.
Because she had been born into a fate that demanded she inherit her ancestors' achievements whether she wished it or not, one word had constricted Sowon since childhood.
Tradition.
People revere what is old. The weight of the phrase "three generations" is considerable. Families that receive such praise, eager to live up to expectations and protect the honor already built, invent unnecessary rules and grow steadily more conservative.
Young Sowon, born to inherit that family's tradition and honor, had always been required to maintain dignity and suppress her own desires.
Dignity. The word was endlessly mutable. Before her younger siblings, dignity meant "yielding." Before her parents, it meant "endurance." When representing the family in magical displays, dignity meant "confidence." At the Academy, dignity meant "tolerance."
At seven, Sowon always had to ask her siblings what they wanted to eat first. At ten, she had to swallow the complaint that she did not want to become a mage while meeting her parents' expectant gazes. At fifteen, determined not to stain the family name, she studied for top marks by morning and prepared for magic competitions by night until her nose bled.
The day her mana depleted and she collapsed from exhaustion, her parents did not ask if she was all right. They asked the healer how long recovery would take, because she still had a competition to enter.
Even so, she never resented them. She never complained.
Sacrificing herself to protect the family's honor was only natural. That was how she had been raised.
At twenty, Sowon entered the Academy as the top student and voluntarily took on the role of year representative. On orientation day for the freshmen, when everyone was still awkward with one another and no one stepped forward to claim the position, she raised her hand as if possessed in the midst of that hesitant atmosphere.
"We need to prepare for practicals. The year representative and a few strong friends, stay behind and help out."
The Academy's new term begins in February. At that point the academic schedule consists only of theory and history classes; full practicals start in early March. In preparation, the year representative and a handful of students tidy the training grounds and familiarize themselves with the terrain in advance.
Of course, ordinary students head home comfortably to free time, so the impression that this is thankless work is hard to erase.
So this is how I live even after coming here, Sowon swallowed the complaint in her heart.
Having never received compliments on her appearance at home, she herself was unaware, but Sowon was truly as beautiful as a princess. Moreover, her figure was rather mature for her age. In front of a girl like that, boys commonly appoint themselves black knights.
They lift heavy things for her, ask after her well-being, and attend to her every convenience. Ironically, however, Sowon found such attention uncomfortable.
I have to do it myself. Otherwise they'll look at me as a princess who only seeks convenience by leaning on her family's prestige. That would tarnish the family tradition.
"I'll carry that for you."
"No, thank you. I can manage this much myself."
"Come on, it's heavy. This is the kind of thing guys should lift. That's what we're here for."
They clamored that they could not leave hard work undone. After various squabbles they finally agreed that Sowon would at least share the smaller loads.
It was pure stubbornness. Lacking the physical stamina to match, Sowon was exhausted in less than an hour. The male students held out their hands as if they had been waiting for exactly that.
And then—
"Sitting around putting on airs."
A cool-headed guy's sudden outburst froze the atmosphere solid. The words of that boy who was irritatingly handsome and whose shoulders were a full handspan broader than the surrounding male students'.
"What did you just say?"
For some reason Sowon found herself unable to contain her anger.
Of course the boy had been aiming not at Sowon but at the male students fawning unnecessarily, yet before he could correct her with "I wasn't talking to you," Sowon snapped at him with frigid eyes.
"Exactly which part of me is so fake?"
Having heard only as far as "airs," Sowon felt she had to pin this point down clearly.
"I volunteered for the year representative position that no one else wants, and I'm staying late during the term instead of going home, sacrificing myself—and I still have to hear the word 'fake'?!"
Having spat that much, Sowon flinched in panic and covered her mouth. The words had been directed at the boy in front of her, yet at the same time they were the resentment that had piled layer upon layer in her chest. Her irrational, heated tone made her feel as if her own shameful side had been exposed, and belated embarrassment washed over her.
"Yeah. Well… sorry."
Leaving only those words, he brushed past her and left.
She tried to call after him—hey—but for some reason the words would not come out.
So the next day, Sowon called him over and spoke with him again.
"Um, yesterday… I'm sorry. I think I was a bit too cold."
"Nah. Actually I was talking about the guys sucking up to you, not you."
"What? Th-that was it?"
Wanting to crawl into a mouse hole, her ears turning red as she hung her head low, he said to her:
"Year representative—do you hate it?"
"Well, I mean, that…"
"Staying after class to tidy the training grounds—do you hate that too?"
"It's not exactly that…"
They were words she herself had spat out yesterday, but if she admitted it again now she would no longer be able to excuse herself with "I was angry and not calm." So she hemmed and hawed, and he looked at her with clear eyes and asked:
"If you hate it, you can just say you hate it. Why have you never said anything like that even once?"
At those ordinary words, Sowon felt as if she had been struck over the head and let out a soundless "ah." Yet—
"I… have reasons I must. It may be hard for you to understand, but each person carries a different weight of life."
"Is being unable to be honest even with a single person the weight of life you're carrying?"
At that question Sowon pondered for a moment.
The pride of a family that produces excellent mages was something that absolutely had to be protected. Already countless professors would look at her and recall her parents and grandparents. And rumors are creatures that change form anywhere and flow who knows where. Thinking of it that way—
Even in front of a single person, caution was only natural.
"Yes. Of course."
She answered that way, yet once she arrived home she kept regretting the answer.
Above all, he was the first person who had ever asked her something like that, and the fact that she had not even asked his name left her terribly disappointed.
The next day, the moment she arrived at school Sowon called him out. And as if possessed she said:
"Please give me time to practice. I mean… I still don't have the confidence to cast off the weight of life given to me."
"I'm not telling you to cast it off. Just that it's okay to share the load with others. Say you hate what you hate, and that it's hard when it's hard."
"Thank you. I'm… Lim Sowon."
"I know. I'm Yeom Junhyuk."
Perhaps because he was the first person who had ever said such things to her, Sowon felt at ease being with him. In front of him she could temporarily forget her position as someone who represented others, and he treated her not as the representative of any family or year but simply as the girl "Lim Sowon."
For the first time she ordered a caramel macchiato at a café instead of jasmine or chamomile, and for the first time she learned how much she liked sweet things. In front of him it was all right to be a little petulant sometimes, and it was all right to show weakness by saying she was not confident she could handle a professor's request well.
In front of him, Sowon could be honest. She felt unburdened.
Her feelings for him gradually grew beyond friendship.
"Hey, Sowon."
"Yes?"
"Why do you always call me 'Junhyuk-ssi'?"
Hearing those words, Sowon became certain that Junhyuk shared the same thoughts. Once that certainty settled, her heart pounded as if it would burst, and she could not keep her hands still, fidgeting restlessly underneath.
"Th-that's just… I do it with everyone. Like manners, I suppose?"
"What's there to be polite about between people the same age. Call me casually. At least with me."
"Then, um…"
Junhyuk-ah. Yeom Junhyuk.
She tried to say it, but her lips simply would not part.
She had never called anyone by name alone—not even her younger siblings. Her younger brothers were "gun," her peers were "ssi," and girls were "yang." Referring to a person by name alone was a rudeness Sowon could never tolerate. She had always considered it something that would tarnish the family tradition. Yet—
With Junhyuk alone, would it not be all right to call him that way?
"Junh…"
But for some reason, putting that name in her mouth made her whole body tingle so badly she could not bear it. To Sowon, who only laughed bashfully, Junhyuk smiled gently and said:
"Do it later. It's not urgent."
"Yes. Please wait for me. Someday, for sure…"
That night at home, Sowon repeated "Junhyuk-ah" hundreds of times. Looking at the full-length mirror in her room, looking at her phone camera, looking in the mirror after a shower while drying her hair, and even while lying in bed until the moment she fell asleep—she practiced.
As naturally as possible. Without awkwardness. Practicing and practicing again so that it would not sound strange when Junhyuk heard it.
The next day she greeted with a fluttering heart.
"Huh…?"
Another girl had appeared at Junhyuk's side.
Dark red shoulder-length hair. Eyes the exact same color as her hair. A slightly thinner build than Sowon's own, and strangely, a demon girl with a horn on only one side.
Ashley Philin.
The girl who had abruptly transferred in March when practicals began, who had naturally become Junhyuk's dedicated healer, who now walked the empty training grounds alone with him every single practical session.
That bitch.
Of course they were not dating or anything of the sort, so Sowon had no justification to be jealous of her. Yet to say they had been nothing at all— the month she had spent with Junhyuk had been far too special and precious to Sowon. Had Junhyuk not felt the same?
Yet as if mocking her, the two of them started dating a month later. She alone knew that news. While following the woman named Philin for days to dig up information on exactly what kind of woman she was, she had even overheard the two confessing their love to each other.
It felt as if the world were collapsing. The image of herself calling his name hundreds of times at home, fluttering with anticipation, felt so foolish that she could not contain her rage.
Yet for some reason the two broke up almost immediately, and Junhyuk began clinging to her. Sowon could not accept it.
Just what makes him cling to that bitch so desperately? Did she grab some weakness of his or something?
In the end she dragged Philin out for drinks to settle things, but all that returned was a sense of defeat and humiliation. It was strange. In front of her, the tradition and pride Sowon had protected all this time crumbled as if they were nothing. Looking into those eyes, she felt herself being swallowed by the emotion called "rage," as if dignity and everything else were unnecessary.
She had never once revealed raw emotion in front of others, yet in front of Philin she had made every kind of ugly scene. Philin, who had sunk her and then risen and walked away as if nothing had happened. Herself, who had tried to stand in anger only to tangle her legs and collapse back down.
Miserable. In that wretched situation, of all people, her eyes met Junhyuk's.
Why did just seeing that face make a smile come out? How long had it been since she had seen his face this close?
To Philin's eyes, Sowon's sudden smile must have looked fox-like instead.
Sowon spat out her final struggle. Words she had never wanted to utter in this manner, in this place, so wretchedly.
"Yeom Junhyuk."
"……"
"Help me… up a little."
Perhaps hoping that hearing those words would make him remember her.
Yet Junhyuk did not hesitate even a little.
"Why should I?"
Throwing those words, he did not even glance at Sowon as he walked away. Sowon sighed soundlessly and swallowed countless resentments into her chest.
You told me to call you that.
You said if I was hurt or suffering or having a hard time, it was okay to ask for help. You said you would carry that burden together with me.
Why in just one month… did you become a different person?
Countless resentments became tears and flowed down. She wanted to beat her chest but held back. Even at this moment countless students were looking down at her. Who knew what they were whispering. Looking at her own pitiful fallen form, Sowon resolved.
She would absolutely not back down like this. She would somehow snatch Junhyuk back from that bitch.
Sowon diligently searched literature on demons. Know the enemy and know yourself and you need not fear a hundred battles, after all. Yet because meeting a demon in daily life was not easy, information on demons was also hard to find. Honestly, Sowon herself had never met a person with horns until Philin.
She managed to obtain information with difficulty from an adult who had once teamed up with demons to face magical beasts.
"They're masters of mental attacks. If we destroy the outsides of magical beasts with our staves, they use their own horns as weapons to destroy the magical beasts from the inside."
"From the… inside?"
"In human terms, they break the heart."
This was it. Along with the joy of finally finding a path, her teeth clenched at the sheer gall of that bewitching demon girl.
Falling into the desire to make Junhyuk her own, she had manipulated his heart and made him submit!
Ever since meeting you, Yeom Junhyuk has changed. I know everything. With that nuance Sowon tried interrogating Philin, yet—
"I stole Yeom Junhyuk? From you?"
With a completely ignorant, nonchalant expression she instead looked at Sowon with pitying eyes. Sowon clicked her tongue, certain she was a race thoroughly practiced in lies. Moreover she even calmly allowed Sowon into the team with Junhyuk and herself. It was truly breathtaking.
Yet Sowon had a certain conviction. She could definitely dismantle that demon bitch's scheme. She could save the hypnotized Junhyuk. To do that she first had to expose her lies one by one and drive her into a corner. Once she had solid proof she intended to stop holding back and press her hard. That she knew everything. That she should stop tormenting Junhyuk any further and cease that wicked hypnotic art.
And when Junhyuk did not come to the Academy, and Sowon saw that Philin's left horn was slightly broken, her heart raced.
Today is the day. The day she would save Junhyuk. She did not understand it well, but since they said the horn was used as a weapon to destroy the heart, today when the horn was broken was surely when her influence over Junhyuk would be weakened. The perfect chance to save him.
Something had clearly gone wrong. With a hitch in the device that bound Junhyuk, Philin would definitely go to meet him.
With that thought, that night Sowon went to Junhyuk's house. Having never once visited his home before, even just secretly hiding and observing the front of his house in the middle of the night gave her a strange feeling.
And the next moment.
"…I knew it would be like this."
A horned silhouette truly revealed itself slowly beneath the streetlight.
That fox-like demon bitch, Ashley Philin. Today I will definitely expose your true nature completely.
Toward Philin heading for the mansion entrance, Sowon strode forward with firm steps.