Song Yura's Day

Meanwhile, Song Yura — who had collapsed the instant she dragged her trembling legs through the door — did not open her eyes until the sun was already high in the sky.

"……"

Even in that dazed, half-conscious haze, her hand reached for her smartphone out of pure habit.

So this was why people said habits were a terrifying thing.

Why the hell were there so many? There were so many it almost felt like too much work to even check them.

Most of them, she figured, were just her friends checking in because they were worried about her.

"You didn't actually cover for me, you bitch."

Answering in someone else's place must have felt too embarrassing — or too scary. Get caught doing proxy attendance and you both get marked absent, after all.

And besides.

"Everything after that is just a pile of stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with me."

Some celebrity had done something yesterday. When the university festival was supposed to be. The remaining nine-tenths of her missed messages were stuffed with every random scrap of gossip under the sun.

And then……

The guy she'd been casually seeing.

She'd thought his tall, striking looks were decent, his background was decent, even his personality was decent — decent enough that she'd already been picturing the confession, and the dating that would come after it.

And yet, for some reason.

"……Haa."

Right now, strangely enough, she felt absolutely nothing toward Park Suchil. Back when they'd been circling each other, her heart used to hammer like mad at the mere thought of when he might take her hand.

The face rising in her mind now was not his.

It was Han Naengjung.

Song Yura couldn't believe it. There were lunatics, and then there was that lunatic. Those ice-cold eyes, that killing aura — they had been real. If she ever displeased him, year or no year, he would kill her on the spot. She was certain of it.

No — of course he'd come to mind. He said he was going to kill me!

She shook her head, doing everything she could to shove down and shake off whatever feeling had just surfaced in her chest.

But……

"Hhk—!"

It was no use.

She was trying her hardest not to remember, and yet, with a clarity that was almost unnatural, the memories kept rising — every single thing she had done to him from middle school all the way through the end of high school. Six full years of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it.

Every time those memories surfaced, a suffocating tightness filled her chest, and the tears spilled out before she even knew they were coming.

A thin trickle. A drop.

Watching the tears slide down her cheek and soak into the pillow, Song Yura muttered under her breath.

"Ha, haha…… Disgusting. These are crocodile tears if I've ever seen them."

She thought she understood now why Han Naengjung had gotten so angry at her reaction. Six years. That wasn't a short stretch of time. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A woman who had tormented him for well over two thousand days suddenly flipping overnight, saying she was truly sorry, that she would atone — who would ever believe that?

She wouldn't believe it either.

Anyone would assume it was just desperate flailing, a last-ditch attempt to crawl out of the situation she was in.

"Aaaagh! Nngh—!"

Song Yura buried her face in the pillow and wailed.

Why? Why had she been so vicious, so uniquely cruel, to Han Naengjung and Han Naengjung alone? Even now, looking back, she couldn't begin to understand it. The girl she used to be hadn't just been crazy — she'd been a villainess, through and through. And considering she hadn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠even been twenty at the time, the wounds she'd carved into his body and his heart were nothing someone like her could ever presume to measure.

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Hhk, hh, hhhhk—!"

She wanted to get that feeling across. If she could have, she would have torn her own heart out of her chest and shown him it was real. But that was impossible. Just as Han Naengjung had said — you couldn't pour spilled water back into the cup.

In that case……

"Then I'll just have to fill the empty bowl with new water."

She let herself fall back against the mattress and stared up at the ceiling, making a vow to herself.

"Sorry? Don't make me laugh. Anyone can say anything with their mouth. I had to change just to stay alive anyway. If that's how it is — then I'll change, starting now."

Starting now, she would set her heart in stone. She would not look at Han Naengjung as Han Naengjung. She would serve him, with everything she had, as the Master before whom she had to atone for her sins.

Even if it was something that made no sense in the modern world. Even if other people would point and sneer.

She had to do it.

If that was the only way she could repay what she had done.

"I should at least send a message right now……"

Song Yura flinched.

Even in that last moment yesterday, as he'd taken her virginity and walked away, Han Naengjung's eyes had been locked on her like he wanted her dead. What if a message pissed him off? What if he came back with something worse — with a curse, even?

"Better to see him face to face."

She knew enough people in the Mechanical Engineering department to be aware that today they had a required course: Introduction to Mechanical Engineering.

"First……"

She figured she should wash up and put on her makeup, and tried to sit up — only to let out a scream.

"Nnhh, kk—!"

Her lower back and her thighs were drawn so tight they burned. And just like that, it hit her: yesterday, she really had done it for the first time.

Her heart slammed once, hard, against her ribs.

That voice — savage enough to freeze the dark itself — rose up in her memory. And in the same breath, she thought she must have truly lost her mind.

That I can remember that voice now and all it feels is sweet……

But the voice was one thing. The hands that had undressed her — those, she had felt as gentle. Undoing the buttons. Sliding her pants down. Then her panties, too……

"……"

Without meaning to, Song Yura flushed and brushed her fingers across her lips. She could still feel the ghost of his kiss there. It had been so much hotter, so much sweeter, than anything she'd imagined. The kind of kiss that made your mouth water just thinking about it — young, aching, unfinished.

Why do I feel like this?

Even during her period she'd never had her heart race like this, never gotten this worked up — and yet just remembering what had happened yesterday, an act that had been closer to rape than anything else, was enough to put her body in heat.

"Haa, haa."

A helpless, aching little sound slipped out of her, and she was so wet it itched. Song Yura had touched herself a few times before, but nothing like this had ever happened.

"Nnh— I can't."

A twitch. Another twitch.

Before she knew what she was doing, she rolled onto her side, curled in on herself, and slid her hand down. She slipped her fingers under her sleep shirt and into her panties and began to rub slowly over her sex.

"Nnnngh, haah, haaugh—!"

A twitch. Another twitch.

"Nn, nnhh, hhk—!"

Her touch grew rounder, dirtier, and the moans spilling from Song Yura's mouth grew louder to match. But it was still nothing like usual.

It feels good, but something's missing.

On a normal day, this much would have been more than enough — she'd have been drooling over how intense it was. But that hollow, aching emptiness refused to go away. And even now, in this moment, what rose in her mind was Han Naengjung's cock — the one that had taken her virginity yesterday.

"Hnghhh, nnh, haaaaaaahn—!"

A much bigger wave of pleasure surged up, and Song Yura's whole body shuddered as she came.

"Haa. I've actually lost it."

In that short span of time her body was already soaked with sweat. She shook her head at herself.

But yesterday……

……Han Naengjung — no, Master — probably thought I was just in pain.

That wasn't the whole truth. At the beginning, yes — she'd thought there couldn't be pain like that in the world, that she was going to die from it. She'd even wondered if dying might be better. But that had only lasted for the moment right after her hymen tore.

Once Master's enormous cock had forced her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vaginal walls apart and started thrusting in and out of the deepest place no one else had ever touched — she hadn't shown it, but she had definitely been feeling pleasure.

"Would it have felt even better without the condom?"

If all that incredible semen of his had gone into her womb instead of a condom……

She flinched, and shook her head hard.

"What the hell am I thinking? Just get to school."

If she started getting ready now, she could still make it in time for the start of Introduction to Mechanical Engineering.

Hot water roared down over her. Through the bathroom mirror, Song Yura could see the kiss marks stamped across her body. Three of them on her neck alone, and two more, dark and vivid, above her breasts.

"Ah……"

The instant she saw them, her face burned crimson and her legs gave out, dropping her right where she stood.

"……They really show that much."

And with that thought came another — that Han Naengjung had sucked on her, here and here and here, hard enough to leave marks this deep — and her body went hot all over again.

Wanting him to leave them in other places too — is that because I'm actually a pervert?

Inexperienced as she was, Song Yura couldn't make sense of the feeling. In the end, she had to touch herself again, lightly, right there in the bathroom, before she could finally step out.

"……I've really lost my mind."

Even she had to admit this was getting severe. She rapped her knuckles against her own skull, then hurried out of her little one-room apartment.

She took the bus to campus the way she always did, and sharp little stares clung to her the whole way. She was used to eyes following her — she'd dyed her hair blonde, after all — but today those stares weren't landing on her hair. They were landing on the nape of her neck.

They're looking at the kiss marks.

She'd pulled her hair down and thought she'd covered them, more or less. Apparently she hadn't covered them all.

I feel a little bad for Park Suchil-sunbae.

The pounding in her chest had gone startlingly quiet, but it was still true that she'd given him a certain amount of room. And yet right now, all she could think was how lucky she was that it had never gone past a maybe. If they'd actually been dating, what she was about to do would have been so ugly that even being called the biggest bitch of the century wouldn't have been something she could deny.

Still, knowing Park Suchil the way she did, she believed he'd take it in stride.

Same as always — from the front gate all the way to the shuttle stop, there wasn't a stretch of ground without a couple on it. So the people who were going to date really did just… date, huh. With this many couples around, no wonder the gender-separated dorms logged dozens of reports every year about people sneaking the opposite sex inside.

And if a guy and a girl were together in one of those tiny dorm rooms, that meant……

Th-they were doing that kind of thing, right?

Heat rushed into Song Yura's face again. She fanned herself with her hand. Even granting that yesterday had been her first time, she hadn't expected dirty thoughts to ambush her at every possible moment like this. Did she have more of a perverted streak than she'd realized?

Weaving past one cringeworthy, lovey-dovey couple after another, she found herself arriving in front of Subok University's basketball court before she knew it.

"Here, here! Pass it!"

"Shoot!"

"Nice! Let's go!"

Just watching it was enough to make you sweat. Honestly, it wasn't Song Yura's kind of thing.

But the sunbae she had to see today was right here.

Park Suchil — a third-year in Mechanical Engineering, and something of an ace on the basketball club besides. She'd been introduced to him through some of the guys in the department, decided he wasn't bad, and let things drift into a maybe.

"Oh, Park Su! Not bad!"

"Oppa, you win that and drinks are on you!"

He was the third-year class president for Mechanical Engineering, and it was already informally agreed that he'd be student council president next year. Popular, of course — the kind of guy who had the department's handful of girls trailing after him in a pack. There had been a time when she'd thought being that person's girlfriend wouldn't be so bad.

"……"

And now, truly, she felt nothing at all.

Song Yura checked the start time for Introduction to Mechanical Engineering, watched Park Suchil play basketball for a long, empty moment, then bit down hard on her lip and started walking. If she stood here waiting, she wasn't going to make it.