#04_Missing Person Case (1)
-Beep beep beep beep beep.
The alarm blared.
“Ugh.”
A migraine hammered her temple like a mallet to the back of her head. It felt as if someone had shoved the alarm clock right up to her ear. Nayae stretched out an arm and silenced it. Sunlight poured through the window, and the chirping of sparrows drifted in from outside. It was far from a refreshing wake-up.
Nayae hauled herself up groggily and checked the clock. 8:01 AM. The cram school was so close she could practically roll out of bed and still make it, so she had time to take it slow. She grabbed the water bottle she always kept on the nightstand and gulped it down. The stale reek of alcohol washed away, leaving a cool clarity.
“Ah...”
The cold water sharpened her mind. Nayae clutched her head, her face frozen in shock. She'd chugged drinks without knowing her limit, and now her memory was riddled with blank spots. Fragments of last night flickered back.
“What the hell did I do in front of Teacher...”
She'd thrown tantrums at Yuchan midway through. Her slurred insistence—“I'm not drunk at all!”—flashed in humiliating bursts. And he'd even piggybacked her drunken, half-conscious ass all the way home. Snatches of memory showed him carrying her inside, laying her in bed, giving her water.
What she remembered most were the moments talking with him. Even blackout drunk and half-asleep, some primal instinct had kept her alert during those exchanges.
Maybe he'd nursed her all night? She scanned the room, but Yuchan was nowhere. No blanket pulled out, nothing—just gone the moment she'd passed out.
“Haa, so embarrassing. I want to die.”
Nayae kicked at the covers in despair. This was all her own karma—who else could she blame? She dragged herself out of bed, stripped off her rumpled clothes, and headed for the shower. Wearing the same outfit from outside straight to bed—what a mess. She'd do laundry early today, sheets and all.
Her mouth felt the grittiest, so she brushed her teeth while waiting for the water to warm. Hot streams cascaded over her body.
“Teacher Yuchan.”
She murmured his name softly, without thinking. For two months she'd agonized alone over her troubles, and he'd fixed it all in one night—plus treated her to a fancy meal she'd never tried, just to comfort and encourage her. She'd always seen him as charismatic, reliable, the kind of teacher students could lean on. Add in this debt of kindness, and it was enough to ignite a girl's budding crush.
Nayae's cheeks flushed. Her hand drifted down her belly, slowly rolling the small, pointed sprout poking out.
“Haa...”
Amid the pouring water and steam, she bit her lip and moved her fingers with delicate precision. No filthy fantasies—just the memory of his broad back when he'd carried her. She'd thought idly how well-trained his body was, even through his clothes. She imagined it wrapping tight around her.
Come to think of it, this was the first time in ages she'd pleasured herself in the shower. Hyunwoo's abuse had piled up stress until she recoiled from any sexual touch. That's why her whole body felt hypersensitive now.
“Haht... Teacher Yu...chan...”
Whispering his name like a sigh, Nayae curled up and sank into the tub.
2.
After leaving Nayae's place—not far, but a hassle on a whim—he'd crashed in the counselor's office instead. Not just laziness, though. Showing up disheveled in yesterday's clothes would rack up sympathy points when she inevitably dropped by today. She might think the goodwill excessive, but it was the perfect spice to keep things from going stale.
Rubbing his beloved, adoring student's body at will gave Yuchan more pleasure than mere sex. Total control, molding her in his grasp like a petty god.
Now, AirPods linked to his phone, he spied on her room via the camera he'd installed last night. He'd been meticulous, but if she remembered or suspected anything, he'd act fast. The mic was top-notch—even her mutters came through clear. Watching her tear at her hair in self-loathing, his worries seemed unfounded.
Confirming her heading to the shower, Yuchan closed the app and killed the feed.
-Knock knock.
Right on cue. It was Minjeong. Her long straight hair swayed as she greeted him, dressed in a yoga long cardigan tied at the waist—stylish against the academy's stuffy warmth.
“Oh my, Yuchan, did you sleep in the office last night?”
“Yeah, had a bit to drink over the weekend. Too tired to head home.”
“The cot must be uncomfortable.”
“I'm still young enough to manage.”
He patted his waist confidently, and Minjeong flashed a bright smile, white teeth gleaming.
Yuchan had only been at the academy two years; she'd started a year later. Fresh out of a top women's university, she'd skipped the civil service exam for teaching here. With her looks, online lectures might suit her better—beauty sells, and her teaching was stellar. Unlike other instructors, her youth and standout appearance had led her to help him settle in, fostering casual chats and occasional drinks.
“Haa, I don't think it's ever been this hectic since February.”
“Coffee? I just got fresh beans.”
“Ah! Please.”
She was the only instructor he served coffee to. Others got the busy act and a quick boot—otherwise, it'd be a lounge for all twenty staff. While Yuchan lounged freely, Minjeong, one of the humanities Korean lit teachers, was swamped. Prep lessons, quizzes, handouts, weekly mocks, student questions—all on her solo.
Her beauty and sweet personality made her the academy's top draw, boys and girls alike, doubling her workload.
“I feel bad always mooching.”
“No worries. It's not like I have much else to do. More barista than counselor these days.”
Minjeong smiled softly, settling on the sofa with her cup. She added jokingly, aggrieved: “I'm so jealous. March mocks aren't that big a deal, but students are fired up, patching weak spots... Questions pile up, they want faster pace.”
“Sounds burdensome.”
“Yeah. Honestly, without your café, I'd have bolted ages ago.”
“Glad I could help, even a little.”
She flopped dramatically over the table, giggling. Theirs was a standard coworker bond. Her ripe, pure beauty at peak bloom tempted him to claim her now, but she wasn't easy prey.
Minjeong's Black Box symbol was a hermit crab. No natural shell, so it borrows empty ones for protection—like her, craving reliance. But rush in on that alone, and it'd crash. Hermit crabs inspect meticulously, swapping shells for better fits. She was picky about dependencies.
Yuchan played the grandest, most lavish shell. She was mulling it, but tailoring to her tastes would draw her in. Last year to this, her shell had shrunk relative to her size—she was scouting upgrades. If she saw Black Boxes like him, he'd gleam like ornate luxury.
“You asleep?”
“...No.”
Her head buried on the table forever, he checked. She lifted it slowly, replying prone.
“Gotta take a day off tomorrow or the next.”
“Finally? You mentioned last week.”
She whined: “This time for real. Or I'll die.”
“Don't overdo it. Lean on others more. The Minjeong I know burns out grabbing everything. Just breathe.”
Her ears perked at “lean.” Subconscious hook—her symbol stirred. Bubbles frothed around the hermit crab, once wandering aimlessly, now eyes fixed on him squarely. Navy blue spray surged.
“Weirdly, your everyday advice hits different. Counselor magic?”
She muttered blankly, then waved it off frantically. “No big meaning! Don't misunderstand.”
Fearing it sounded flirty. Yuchan curved his lips into a practiced, perfect smile—mirror-drilled for confidence.
“Didn't think weird. You're opening up to me.”
“Smooth comeback.”
“No big meaning either.”
He shrugged innocently; she burst out laughing.
“Vacay plans?”
“Nah, just chill at home, music, maybe sleep in. That's my dream now.”
“You clock in earliest, out latest.”
“Gotta, or work dries up...”
Her overzealous micromanaging kept it flowing—he skipped that critique.
“Ah! You watch news?”
“No. What happened?”
“Nothing major. Missing persons around Ilsan lately. Just online buzz, but creepy—scares me walking home.”
She sipped, grumbling. Yuchan filed it away, then slid in casually: “If our schedules align, I could drive you?”
“No! Wasn't hinting.”
“Anytime, no pressure. That's coworkers, right?”
“Really okay.”
His feigned smile drew her ambiguous one. Too soon. He pivoted to academy talk, killing time till she left.