First Question From the Kids
Somewhere in the middle of the commuting crowd, swept along like a wave, I found myself staring blankly into space.
Me. Commuting to work.
My heart pounded furiously with nerves. After all those exhausting months of job hunting, what I felt was closer to anxiety than excitement or anticipation, but still.
"…Phew."
I looked down at the employee badge around my neck, then back up at the building in front of me.
They'd told me I was hired on the spot during the interview, and the moment I heard "five million won a month," I'd snatched up the offer right then and there.
It felt like I'd been bewitched or something.
…Still, it felt good. It genuinely did.
Being a major corporation, they'd handed me an employee badge the very day I was accepted.
Granted, it was only a temporary one.
The permanent badge, I was told, came equipped with several built-in functions and took roughly a month to issue.
"Hey, it's still something."
The longer I stood there, the fewer people kept streaming into the building. I hurried my steps toward the headquarters as well.
And that was when it happened.
"Oh no, what do I do… Will you two really be okay going in by yourselves?"
"We've gone plenty of times, we'll be fine!"
"Yeah, we go every day!"
Right in front of the BOND building's main entrance, I spotted a man fidgeting helplessly with two children who came up to his waist.
Kindergarteners?
As far as I knew, Bada Kindergarten—being a corporate subsidiary—dressed all its students in uniforms. They were shaped like tracksuits for ease of movement, and if I remembered right, the color was something like that yellow.
Rummaging through the information I'd researched in advance, I approached the man and the children.
"Hello there. Are you, by any chance, Bada Kindergarten students?"
Startled by my sudden appearance, the children flinched, so I gave them a light wave of my hand.
Complete, of course, with that signature sunny kindergarten-teacher smile.
The man, dressed in a black long-sleeve that reached his collarbone and cargo pants, had sharply upturned eyes—not the kind of face that invited casual conversation.
"…Yes, that's right. And who might you be?"
He studied my face with faintly guarded eyes, and then his gaze came to a stop on the badge hanging at my chest.
I quickly held up my badge.
"I'm Na Hwiyeon, a teacher who just started at Bada Kindergarten today. I happen to be headed to work myself, and you seemed to be in a bit of a bind."
He looked obviously troubled, but I asked out of politeness anyway.
"……"
Sure enough, the man made a pained face, glancing down at the two children before he spoke.
"Something's come up and I need to get to a site right away. A colleague is on their way to pick me up, but if I drop the kids off at kindergarten first, our routes will split up and…"
"Have you tried contacting your colleague?"
"Ah, she's a teleportation Awakener, so she can't use her phone while moving. And besides, she's the type who never checks her messages anyway."
Ah, the sorrows of working life.
I nodded as if I understood completely, then spoke in a tone that suggested it was no trouble at all.
"If you don't mind, I can take the kids to the kindergarten for you. I'm headed to work anyway, so it's really no trouble—"
"……"
Even after examining both my badge and my face, the man wouldn't answer right away.
Fair enough. That's the correct reaction, when you think about it.
For all he knew, I could be a child kidnapper disguised as a teacher.
Even in this so-called Peace Era, when things had never been safer, human affairs were unpredictable—so I couldn't simply write the man off as paranoid.
Abductions of Awakened children weren't common, but they did happen from time to time.
"If you're uneasy, you're welcome to watch until we've actually gone inside the kindergarten. You can probably see it from here."
It was a bit of a distance away, but the first and second floors of headquarters were almost entirely glass, which meant the kindergarten building behind it was clearly visible.
And besides—this was pure speculation on my part, but…
…this man looked strong, if anything. Definitely not weak.
In other words, if he kept watching and noticed even the slightest hint of anything suspicious, knocking me over the head would hardly take him any effort at all.
"…Hmm."
Judging by his expression, he seemed aware of this fact himself.
A moment later, the man looked between me and the children, a faint smile settling on his lips.
"Then I'm sorry to trouble you, but I'll leave my younger siblings in your care. I'm Lee Seohyeok, with a BOND field team."
I took the hands the children offered me and nodded.
So they're his siblings.
That explained why he'd looked far too young to be a parent.
"Likewise, it's a pleasure. Good luck at work—I'll head in with the kids now."
After that brief exchange of farewells with Lee Seohyeok, I made my way toward the building with the children in tow.
"Teacher, are you really a teacher at our kindergarten?"
The moment we stepped into the lobby, the little girl on my left asked, marching along with a confident stride.
I matched my pace to their small steps and answered.
"That's right, I just started today. Dolphin Class! My name is Teacher Na Hwiyeon. What's your name, sweetie?"
"Wow! Dolphin Class? I'm in Dolphin Class too! My name is Lee Seora!"
Oh?
On my very first day, I'd be arriving at work with a kid from my own class.
Which meant… hold on, just a second.
If these kids were in Dolphin Class, that made this Lee Seohyeok gentleman one of my assigned guardians.
As the facts piled up one after another, I found myself glancing back over my shoulder before I could help it.
…He was still watching us.
Oh, now he leaves.
Lee Seohyeok took the hand of a man who had just appeared out of thin air with a pop, and in the next instant the two of them were gone.
Three seconds, was it?
First time seeing a teleportation Awakener. Fascinating stuff.
"Uncle Howon is slow every single day."
Then the little boy, who had been silently listening to my conversation with Seora this whole time, finally spoke up.
Only then did I realize that the children and I had been looking at the exact same spot.
"Who's Uncle Howon?"
"The teleportation uncle who just went to pick up hyung. He's a teleportation Awakener, but he's slow every day."
Three seconds is slow? I honestly couldn't tell.
Was the world just different through the eyes of fresh-off-the-boat little gremlins?
Worrying about my own eyeballs—growth stunted, aging already underway—I launched into a proper reconnaissance of the enemy.
"I see, so Uncle Howon is slow. By the way, what's your name, sweetheart?"
"My name is Lee Seoro. We're twins. I'm the older brother."
Both of them pointed at themselves with their fingers, brisk and businesslike.
"That's right! Lee Seoro is my older brother and I'm the younger sister. I like being the younger sister!"
"And I like being her older brother."
Seeing the pair get along so well, an indulgent smile crept onto my face all on its own.
Seora and Seoro, twin siblings. Lee Seoro is the older brother, Lee Seora the younger sister.
I repeated their names over and over in my head. And then, as always, there was one thing to do once a simple reconnaissance was complete.
Question time.
Nothing on this earth builds rapport between teacher and student better.
"Do Seora and Seoro have any questions for Teacher? I have so many."
At my words, the two of them put on thoughtful faces for a moment—and then, unexpectedly, Seoro spoke up first.
"Teacher."
"Yes~?"
"When are you going to quit?"
…The very first question I got from a student in my class was my projected resignation date.
Yep, just like I'd heard—seven-year-olds these days hit different from the opening move.
Brutal.
I studied my reflection in the mirror with a certain awkwardness. A stiff teal apron—fresh out of packaging, apparently—clung tightly to my body.
Embroidered on the left breast of each apron was an adorable little emblem symbolizing each class.
Mine was a dolphin leaping out of the water.
"……"
First impressions matter, you know.
The smile and the tone of voice were fine—those were habits, drilled into me long ago. But appearance was a much harder thing to fix on short notice.
Skipping the barbershop so often during my job-hunting days because it felt like a chore had left my hair far too long.
Barely scraping by as presentably human, at best.
I was still fussing with my hair, sweeping it this way and that in a desperate bid to look at least somewhat decent, when a voice came from outside the door.
"Did Teacher Hwiyeon finish changing?"
The principal of Bada Kindergarten.
I glanced down at my navy-blue teacher's uniform with the apron layered over it and answered.
"Yes, all changed."
The moment I opened the door and stepped out, the principal gestured for me to follow. Trailing behind her, I ran my eyes quickly down the kindergarten's long corridor.
Overall, the interior was surprisingly comfortable—nothing like the exterior. Warm pastel wallpaper, furniture sized for small children.
Completely at odds with how it looks outside.
There were two main ways to get to Bada Kindergarten, which sat behind the headquarters building: circle all the way around the building, or cut straight through the headquarters lobby.
Since I didn't know the roundabout route, I'd come through the lobby—and the moment my eyes left that cutting-edge modern building and landed on this place…
Is this place abandoned? The words had come out of my mouth on their own.
Maybe it was the ivy smothering the entire building, but the whole place even had a vaguely haunted vibe. Broken glass windows patched haphazardly with blue tape didn't exactly help.
But the inside is way better than expected?
Setting my impressions aside, I followed the principal into the teachers' lounge.
It was only a brief moment, but the instant I stepped through the door, the conversation that had been faintly audible from the hallway cut off all at once.
Two adult men and two adult women, the principal excluded.
All four of the adults were wearing aprons, so they had to be my fellow teachers.
"Er, hem… This is Teacher Na Hwiyeon, who will be joining us starting today."
At the principal's signal—a slight jerk of the chin—I gave a nod in return. She didn't seem to make any effort to hide her couldn't-care-less expression and her bored tone of voice.
Just like during that brief greeting this morning—she's really, really sick of this.
Except the problem wasn't just the principal.
…Same story over here, apparently.
The teachers who looked like my new colleagues were all broadcasting their exhaustion with their entire bodies—rolling their wrists, offering perfunctory half-nods.
One of them was even staring blankly at the clock on the wall with completely hollow eyes.
And yet I pulled my lips into the sunniest smile I could manage.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all. I'm Na Hwiyeon, the new teacher for the seven-year-olds, Dolphin Class."
Truthfully, no matter how they reacted, my job was already fixed.
Just smile and greet them.
Once my brief self-introduction ended, the scattered gazes drifted toward me one by one.
Still dead fish eyes, though.
"Hmm… well, welcome aboard! I'm Yoo Jinchae, teacher of the three-year-old Jellyfish Class~"
The first to greet me was a blonde woman with a cheerful voice.
Spreading her palms wide like an amusement park employee, she spoke in a manner that was every bit as thoroughly programmed as my own.
Contrary to my expectations, though, after her bright greeting the others began offering their introductions one by one, reading the room.
"Nice to meet you too. I'm Park Edeun, teacher of the four-year-old Turtle Class."
"Kang Sagwa. Five-year-olds, Shark Class."
"And I'm Kwon Haeseong, teacher of the six-year-old Seal Class. We're right next door to Dolphin Class, so…"
So that's the guy. The one staring at the clock is my next-door colleague.
Once everyone had made their way around with introductions, it wasn't exactly a heartwarming atmosphere, but at least it felt like the basic pleasantries had been exchanged.
After the principal slipped away without a sound, the mood loosened up noticeably and conversation began to flow.
Formal small talk passed back and forth—ages, what brought us to the kindergarten—and then, out of nowhere, one strange question cut through it all.
"How long do you think you'll last, Teacher?"
The question came from Shark Class's Kang Sagwa, a woman whose most striking feature was skin so pale she looked positively bloodless.
"……"
Did I hear that right?
"I mean, how many days do you think you can hold out here?"
"Sagwa, no…"
Apparently thinking I hadn't heard her properly, Sagwa repeated herself with extra care on the pronunciation. Park Edeun, standing beside her, went pale in an instant and tried to rein her in, but…
Well, the mood's officially dead.
Sensing the atmosphere freeze over, I racked my brain.
Is asking about someone's resignation schedule a trend around here?
At this point, how could I think anything else?
First Seoro this morning, now Sagwa. Even Kwon Haeseong and Yoo Jinchae had their mouths clamped shut—the whole vibe was rolling straight into the gutter.
Only Park Edeun wore a flustered expression as he scrambled to explain on my behalf.
"What Sagwa means—no, what Teacher Sagwa means is that she's just a little too blunt sometimes, you see? The, uh, the Dolphin Class teachers changed so often before you came, Teacher Hwiyeon, that we've really been through the wringer. She only said it because she hopes you'll stay with us a long time this round. Right, Sagwa?"
…Going by Park Edeun's version, it sounded like a plea.
But looking at Kang Sagwa's face, it clearly wasn't.
Is that gatekeeping, or a plea?
I bit back a sigh and smoothed out my expression.
…Familiar. This air, this smell. I knew it all too well.
But once again, what I had to say was already decided.
"I'll do my very best."
"No need to do your best."
"Sagwa, please…"
Gatekeeping.
That was gatekeeping, no question about it.