The After-School PC Bang (4)
The next morning, I woke to the clatter of dishes drifting from the kitchen and the earthy smell of soybean paste stew, and shuffled out to the living room with a lazy stretch.
Mrs. Choi Soo-hyun, who would normally have left for work before dawn, was—unusually—standing at the gas range in an apron, simmering a pot of soup.
A little later, as we sat across from each other enjoying a leisurely breakfast for the first time in ages, she set down her spoon and asked a question.
"Son, are you going to head to school as early as you did last year, every single day?"
I'd just stuffed a piece of rolled omelet into my mouth, and the very moment I was swallowing fast to answer—
BANG—!
The door to my room flew open, and out crawled Kim Seyeon, the household's resident freeloader and my older sister, scratching at her bird's-nest hair. She then slouched over, snatched out the empty chair at the table with half-lidded eyes, claimed a seat with truly impressive naturalness, dragged my soup bowl toward herself, and grumbled in a flat voice.
"Hey, Mom. I asked him to wake me up when he leaves, and the guy wakes me at exactly seven a.m. sharp every single day. What a rotten piece of work."
At the sheer audacity of her blaming her sleep deprivation on me, I let out a hollow laugh.
"Then maybe don't ask to be woken up in the first place."
The instant I tossed back that retort and scooped up a big spoonful of rice—
THWACK!
"Kgh—!!"
A stinging blow from a hand landed square on the back of my head.
My sister, for her part, was calmly picking at her seasoned soybeans with her chopsticks, as if she hadn't just assaulted a human being seconds earlier.
Rubbing my throbbing skull, I raised and lowered my right fist a few times, then sighed, picked my spoon back up, and finished answering Mom's question.
"I just get there early and work on some carvings. If there's anything you want, Mom, I could make you one too."
At my casual offer, Mom paused to consider it for a moment.
"Hmm… then how about you make me a couple of crosses? One for your mom and one for your dad to carry around."
"…?"
Caught off guard by this unexpected religious item, I blinked mid-spoonful. "Crosses? Mom, did you suddenly convert to Christianity or something?"
"No? It's just a symbolic sort of thing to carry. My days are so busy, when would I ever find time to believe in anyone and pray?"
"……"
An answer that was profoundly practical and thoroughly jaded—the very essence of a working adult.
I nodded and began sketching out a rough image of the cross's framework and texture in my head. Carve it to show off the wood grain, round off the corners for a smooth finish… it would actually be a decent thing to slip into a pocket. And as it happened, I remembered there were some solid, richly colored walnut scraps left in the utility room drawer.
"Got it. I'll have them ready in a few days."
"Thanks, sweetie. So how's second year treating you? Last year you came and went like some man of the world who'd seen it all, but this year you've been getting friendlier with your new classmates, haven't you?"
At Mom's light question, I paused mid-bite and replayed the last three days in my head. Let's see…
The diamond-spoon male lead with insane social skills, who plowed through speedrunning games like meals thanks to the endless parade of morning events he endured. The third-year sunbae with 600,000 followers who fled to my utility room workshop every day to spill her stories. And then Jeong Hye-in, the youngest daughter of the Jungwoo Group, who dragged me off to a PC bang yesterday, obliterated my sanity with a capitalist mid-range shot, then had me driven home in a luxury black sedan.
I don't know about 'friendly,' but… yeah, it's definitely a bit different from last year.
Of course, I had absolutely no intention of recounting any of this spectacular, exhausting circus at the breakfast table.
"Eh, same as always. Nothing special, perfectly ordinary. Things around me have gotten a bit louder than last year, I guess… but it's not bad, really."
I glossed over it vaguely and quickly finished off the rest of my rice.
"Is that so? Well, as long as you stay safe, stay out of trouble, and do well, that's all that matters."
Despite my soulless reply, Mom seemed reassured and gave a satisfied smile. Beside her, our unwanted blood relative Kim Seyeon was still grumbling with her eyes half closed.
"Ugh, I have a major-specific class first period today… Wake me up at seven thirty tomorrow, for real."
"You have to be at school BY seven thirty. Listen to yourself. Set your own alarm."
"Was once not enough for you?"
Having lightly ignored Kim Seyeon's threats, I pushed my empty bowl toward the sink. From there—shower in the bathroom, throw on my uniform jacket—the whole routine took a grand total of fifteen minutes. I grabbed my bag, planted myself in front of the front door, and crushed down the heels of my sneakers as I stepped into them.
"I'm off."
"There he goes. Be careful out there."
With Mom's warm send-off at my back, I opened the door and stepped outside. I drew a deep breath, letting the morning air—slightly crisp, and wonderfully clean—fill my lungs. Thinking of the Banana Cat carving I needed to finish this morning, I started walking toward school.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Once again, seven thirty sharp. After stamping in at the gates of Hanyoung High School, I was the first to arrive at the 2nd Year Class 4 classroom. The moment I sat down, I pulled the nearly finished Banana Cat carving and my detail knife out of the desk drawer.
Let's wrap this up within forty minutes.
Scritch— scritch!
With that ear-tickling sound, the knife's sharp tip delicately carved into the cat's round cheeks and tiny nose. Once I confirmed the expression was beginning to come alive, I switched straight to my chip carving knife and started rendering the faint stripes on the cat's forehead and the distinctive texture of banana peel. For forty minutes I let the blade glide along the fine wood grain.
After sweeping up the wood shavings scattered on the floor, I lifted the finished carving. The face of the meme cat, buried in the peel and crying as if it had been wronged, had come out quite endearingly.
Well, the quality's decent enough at this level.
More or less satisfied, I absentmindedly went to hand the carving to my side—then realized no one was sitting there and glanced up at the clock on the front wall of the classroom. 8:10. Even though plenty of time had passed, there was still no sign of Jeong Hye-in, who by now would long since have colonized Lee Hyun-woo's seat.
For the first time in ages, I was looking at an empty classroom filled with nothing but morning sunlight.
Don't tell me she got chewed out at home over yesterday's PC bang incident?
Or—could it be that the chairman of the Jungwoo Group had flown into a rage, declaring, 'I will not stand by and watch my granddaughter fraternize with some no-name commoner!' and sent her down a forced school-transfer route?
Trashy-drama clichés flickered through my mind… but I quickly lost interest. Right, there was no reason to feel sad or worry much about her skipping school. We'd only known each other's faces for all of three days, after all.
All I'm missing is the expression she'd make when I toss her the finished Banana Cat. That's it.
With that thought, I left the classroom and hurried up to the fifth-floor workshop to grab the walnut scraps for the crosses Mom had asked for. And since I was already there, I figured I'd just kill time working—so I was roughly knocking out the overall shape of a cross when I glanced up at the clock. It was already 8:40.
Hmm. By now most of my classmates would have arrived, so I should be able to tell whether Jeong Hye-in actually came to school or not. With that in mind, I headed back to the classroom.
"Huh?"
The moment I opened the back door and stepped inside—whether you'd call it fortunate or not, I can't really say—the forced-transfer route from my imagination was officially scrapped. Right next to my desk, in Lee Hyun-woo's still-empty seat, sat a familiar back, quietly gazing out the window. Jeong Hye-in had tossed only her bag at her own desk and was occupying the seat beside me with an air of utter inevitability.
"……"
Sensing my approach, Jeong Hye-in slowly turned her head. Her listless eyes registered the chunks of wood in my hands, and I caught them widening just a fraction.
She's more happy to see me than I expected.
I set the finished Banana Cat down on the desk and took my seat. "Why are you late today?"
"Well, about that…"
At my flat question, Jeong Hye-in carefully cradled the Banana Cat that had rolled to a stop in front of her with both hands. She ran her thumb over the cat's aggrieved expression and the intricate contours of the peel, then continued with her answer.
"The Chairman—no, Grandfather—insists that from now on, at least three security vehicles must be stationed near the school at all times so that nothing like yesterday ever happens again. I was late because I was trying to calm him down."
"……Hah."
I hadn't even taken it all that seriously, but the scale of the storm yesterday's little rebellion had kicked up was far bigger than I'd imagined. Picturing three whole sedans packed with those burly bodyguards circling the school, I understood in an instant why she'd risk being late to talk him down.
"Coming from the one who caused it all, I know, but… I genuinely just want to attend school in peace, so please, fix this for me."
"I'll try."
"Don't 'try.' Give me a real answer."
"…I'll try to give you a real answer, too."
Completely unbothered by my scolding, Jeong Hye-in lowered her gaze back to the carving in her hands. As she turned it this way and that, tracing every detail of the cat, a small smile spread across her lips without her even realizing it.
"I love it."
Truly, not a single superfluous word—a perfectly clean review. At that honest, transparent reaction, I couldn't help but grin, and I pulled the walnut scraps out of my bag.
"You're way too attached to a plain little lump of wood anyone could buy with pocket change."
At the joke I tossed out while my carving knife bit into the corner that would become the cross's upright, Jeong Hye-in tucked the carving she'd been holding carefully into her uniform pocket. Then she looked back at me and tilted her head slightly to one side.
"Well… this world does have things that money can't buy, after all. It can't even be compared to an ordinary mass-produced item, can it?"
"……Fair point, actually."
The highest praise a handmade piece could receive, one crafted with all of my time and devotion. Taking that pleasant compliment as fuel, I put strength into the tip of my blade. In the classroom washed with morning sunlight, only the chatter of classmates and the soft sound of wood grain being carved filled the air, peacefully.