Back Alley (2)
Parked the car for now and stepped out onto the bustling street right in front. It was lunchtime, perfect for a quick meal together. Taking her straight home might have been best to avoid prying eyes, but that wasn't feasible just yet. Acting too hastily could raise suspicions, and clearing out the half-processed body in the bathtub would draw unwanted attention too. Lost in thought and silent for a moment, Yujin spoke up first.
"Teacher, so what are we doing now?"
"Eating lunch."
"I know a good spot nearby. Wanna go?"
"Sure. Lead the way."
Yujin slung her bag over her shoulder with glee and trotted ahead. Today's outfit was an oversized fit way bigger than her size—beige Gucci hoodie paired with purple leggings that somehow meshed perfectly. The shirt hung long enough to cover her ass, so she'd folded the sleeves back a couple turns. The street was quieter than at night, which made the well-fitted Yujin draw eyes immediately. Especially the guys around—they couldn't peel their gazes away, following her until they inevitably sized up Yuchan.
The bustling area near Yuchan's place was what Ilsan locals called the "eating alley." Long rows of buildings packed tight with entertainment spots, bars, and restaurants, bisected by a main drag. Yujin had poked around izakayas at first, but every bar in the neighborhood only opened from 5 p.m. till dawn—they were all shuttered.
"Ugh... closed here too."
She sighed dramatically, face crumpling like the world was ending.
"Since when do students day-drink? You've only been circling bars anyway. Everything around here opens for dinner."
"What's wrong with that? It's your approved free time, so it's legal, right? Or we could just pick any restaurant and order drinks with food?"
Way too old-man talk for a girl freshly turned twenty.
"But you've barely been legal to drink, and you already know every dive bar in town?"
"Pfft~ Did you start smoking right at eighteen, Teacher? I just sip a bit sometimes with older sisters I know."
Yujin coughed lightly, feigning innocence. No scolding intended, so the vibe stayed light.
"You still drink a lot these days?"
"Nah, just a little after studying, alone at the convenience store."
"How much?"
"Couple bottles of blue Chamisul?"
"Damn, you hold your liquor."
Tiny frame, solid tolerance. Yujin stuck out her hand as her slipping sleeve bugged her; Yuchan folded it neatly for her.
"You don't drink much, do you, Teacher?"
"Nah, I do sometimes. Why?"
"You're super into body management. All the girls at the academy talk about it. Like, 'bet he'd make your eyes roll if he stripped.' Anyway, people who care about fitness don't drink much, right?"
Mid-sentence, curiosity sparked—she stole glances at his chest under the cashmere coat. Yuchan was frugal outside food expenses; it was cheap blend, under 10% actual cashmere.
"Wanna feel?"
"Yes!"
He chuckled and offered his forearm. She latched on quick. Not bulky, but honed to 10% body fat—muscle felt firm even through fabric.
"Whoa! Whoa! It's all bumpy!"
"Okay, okay, that's enough. People are staring."
"Aaaang. Just a bit more~"
He pressed her whiny head down and headed for a restaurant he rarely hit. There was a favorite ramen joint nearby, but regulars might remember his face. He grabbed her hobobag from her shoulder and ducked into a decent Japanese place.
"Two salmon donburi, shrimp tempura, and warm sake, please."
The third-floor spot had atmosphere. Lunch was slow—probably not thriving. Quiet suited him fine; less attention.
Egg rolls and lukewarm sake arrived first.
"Cheers!"
"That good, huh?"
"Yeah! No studying—pure bliss."
Yujin had been bubbly, radiating joy from every pore. She downed her sake in one stylish shot. A far cry from Nayae's dainty, head-tilted sips with both hands. Probably picked up bad habits leading drinks with friends.
Not there just to chat idly, Yuchan steered into real talk. Yujin skipped classes mid-session, showed late, napped at her desk, chatted on the rooftop, slacked in counseling—but never straight-up no-showed.
"Why'd you skip yesterday?"
"Just... y'know."
To gauge her psyche sharper, he deliberately unfocused his eyes on her Black Box. Same as always: indigo laced with purple. But the purple hue was murky, heavy. She brushed it off casually, but saturation spiked fast—not something to gloss over.
"Something you can't even tell me?"
"Really, nothing happened."
Her bubbly antics vanished like ancient history; lips sealed tight. Pondering how to nudge the mood, salmon don and tempura arrived. Yujin snapped pics with a troubled pout—dead serious, kinda funny.
"Yujin."
"Yeah?"
"What do you think of me as a teacher?"
"You listen well, counsel great. Feels like a real adult I can talk to."
Poking at salmon, she refilled her glass.
"Wanna hear how I've seen you so far?"
Her downcast eyes flicked up in surprise. Maybe mistook it for cheesy confession bait.
"You're bright and lively, but cautious. That persona you show the world is rock-solid—easy to peg you as the fun, friendly type."
"But?"
"You act close to everyone but always draw lines. 'This person's not mine—don't wanna show my all.' You gently push away anyone crossing that boundary."
Her mouth slowly gaped wider with each word. Two months observing—just scraping her symbol's surface. Pushing further risked creepy vibes, so he held back.
"Whoa... insane! You really are a counselor."
"Can't focus deep on one thing—always juggling interests. Hate being forced into stuff, but won't ditch handed responsibilities and run."
Yuchan wet his lips with sake, continued.
"You hate breaking expectations, trust, promises."
"Yeah, spot on! Sophomore talent show—I hated it, got shoved in anyway, powered through. Wild."
"So I know you pretty well, right?"
"Totally."
She beamed, thrilled he saw her so clearly. Always kept subtle distance yet craved true recognition. Seemed contradictory, but human hearts worked that way. That's why he sought her out, bought lunch alone, got serious. Planted the delusion 'I'm special to him'—lowered her walls big time.
"So when a girl like you ghosts class without a word, something's wrong. Home, daily life, whatever. That's why I came looking."
Her gleeful face stiffened. Phlox petals darkened deeper. Just recalling it soured her state.
"Hate the academy?"
"Yeah, suffocating. Honestly wanna quit."
"Then quit."
"Huh?"
His cool suggestion raised her voice. Hoped he'd grab and persuade; encouragement brought faint disappointment to her eyes.
"Adults say it: 'Beat that guy to succeed. Overtake the frontrunner for happiness.' Fits some—kids who charge blind if pointed at a goal. But not you."
"Still..."
To Yuchan, Yujin was prime cut—slice at peak mood and timing. Even with Cheonsanggye Self-Study Repeat Academy's lax oversight and student-led learning, getting too close would draw eyes. Hell, her constant counseling visits already made her infamous. Easier to work her outside later.
"Quit the academy if you want. But don't ditch studying. Doesn't have to be CSAT. Chase what you love, dive in. Sound good?"
She wavered visibly. Her phlox's dream-blossoms—expectation, achievement—quivered.
Yujin was young. Vague rallying sparked rainbows without plans. But surprisingly, she shook her head quietly.
"Truth is, I don't wanna CSAT either."
"So what do you want?"
"Makeup artist."
"Then go for it. Not too late to start now."
"But Mom..."
She spilled her saga in rambling detail—over ten minutes, but boiled down to two lines. Sole guardian Mom showed zero interest. Yet wanted her in a top uni for face-saving. All per Yujin, so take with salt.
"If I say quit... she'll flip. Fought yesterday."
He'd heard of Yujin's mom from the director. President of a high-end jewelry chain known to insiders—expanding in Apgujeong, Cheongdam, Samseong. Hands-off to a fault on academics; even said no need to call for tardies or skips. Matched her story, maybe.
"I get she's busy, but it's just too lazy to shove me in academy. Isn't that messed up?"
"Yeah. Must hurt."
Agree on gripes, dodge family deep-dives. Ideal: get her to quit, meet outside. But no rush. Push too hard, her rebellious streak flares—best back off here.
"She says spend what I want. But feels less like love, more buying off care. Last month? Eight million won on clothes, makeup. Not a peep. She's just not interested. Don't wanna deal emotionally, but flips if her daughter's uni sucks. Hate it."
Listening quietly, one line jumped out. Lavish spender, sure—but eight million? Rich-girl scale stunned even Yuchan. Kept poker face.
"Yujin."
"Yeah?"
"No parent hates their kid. Your mom's just bad at showing it—but she loves you deep down."
"You'd change your tune meeting her. I'm just her trophy."
"How's someone who doesn't love you blow eight mil a month off hard-earned cash?"
"To her, it's fee for less hassle. Beijing store opening now—total drama. On business trip till next week. Was gonna chill till you nabbed me."
Met her bitter smile, finished the meal.