Song Ha-yeon (2): Beware Those Who Only Smile
Always be wary of people who only smile. If they stop smiling, it means the situation has turned dire. Up until now, I'd never once seen Song Ha-yeon without expression. Every day, she'd greet me warmly with a gentle, serene face and a soft smile. That's why her blank expression now felt so terrifying—it was the first time I'd ever seen it.
I had to respond. If I hesitated when she asked if that was my real name, wouldn't it seem suspicious? I should've just laughed it off lightly, like What are you talking about? and brushed it aside. That would've let it pass without issue. But I couldn't because she was dead serious.
For a split second, I thought I'd been caught, and I missed my timing. My response kept getting delayed. No brilliant ideas came to mind no matter how hard I racked my brain. I was just someone who thought a lot, not a genius who could come up with clever solutions on the spot.
There was no rule against revealing my name. So maybe it was fine? But why else would the uniform say "Choi Kyung-bi" unless there was a reason? From what Song Ha-yeon had said, the previous guard had called himself that too. It'd be weird, right? If every security guard who came here had the same name, even I'd find it suspicious. But I'm human. Isn't it cheating if the youkai think it's odd too?
"Guard?"
"……"
"Did I ask something too difficult?"
Song Ha-yeon's face remained expressionless. With my answer taking so long, she must've already realized it wasn't my real name. Prolonged silence was as good as confirmation. Now I had only one choice left.
Lies had to be covered with more lies. That was the only way.
"Actually… you're right. Choi Kyung-bi is a fake name."
"Why?"
"……Pardon?"
"Why did you lie like that?"
"Well…"
From here on, I was a liar. What would a real liar say? The truth was to hide my real name. But for a lie, what should it be?
"Truth is… I've gotten into the habit of using aliases."
"…Pardon?"
Song Ha-yeon looked flustered by the unexpected answer. At least she'd dropped that scary blank expression—half the battle won.
"My real name's kind of weird. I was embarrassed, so I always used fake ones. And since the uniform the school gave me said Choi Kyung-bi, I just went with that as my alias."
"……"
Song Ha-yeon stared at me blankly. Had my lame excuse fallen flat? Contrary to my ominous fears, she let out a hollow chuckle.
"Pfft. You have a weird habit."
"Ahaha…"
She was back to her usual smiling self. I'd made it through unscathed. Felt like I'd aged ten years.
"So, what's your real name?"
"Huh?"
"Now I'm curious about this embarrassing real name of yours."
I tensed up, thinking round two was coming, but she was smiling. This time, I could probably deflect it casually like before.
"It's a secret. It's really embarrassing—could you let it slide?"
"Hehe. Fine, I'll let it go. What about your other aliases, then?"
"My other aliases?"
"Yeah. You said you always use them. I'm curious what ones you've used."
Now I was racking my brain for a different reason. Naming things was one of the toughest tasks in the world—from simple report titles to coding variables or game character nicknames. It sounded easy but ate up time. And I had to come up with them on the spot.
"Harry. I used Harry for part-time gigs."
"Harry? A foreign name?"
"Yeah. From Harry Potter—you know it?"
"Pfft. Are you a wizard? Can you do magic?"
"No wand on me right now, or I'd show you."
"Too bad. I wanted to see. Hehe."
I kept spinning fake stories, pulling names out of thin air. Sometimes I was Kim Guksu, other times Park Saeroi or Kang Geonma. Improvising was tough, so most were borrowed. For the record, Kim Guksu came from a sudden craving for noodles.
"Thanks to you, Guard, this boring self-study supervision flew by."
"You weren't really supervising, though."
"The kids handle it themselves anyway. See? It's quiet."
It was quiet. When our conversation lapsed, the hallway fell silent. No way to know if students were even in the classrooms, but I wasn't about to ask.
Thinking about it, we'd just been chatting nonstop. There was that thriller moment in the middle, but still. I'd hoped some escape clue might slip out, but no such luck.
Was I heading back to the guard room empty-handed? After seeing her blank face earlier, I lacked the guts to probe aggressively.
No idea how long we'd talked. How much time until 10?
"What time is it? I don't have a watch."
"Watch? Oh… probably in the staff room. Hold on."
"Wait, Ha-yeon."
"Yes?"
"Any chance you have a cutter knife or something sharp?"
"A cutter?"
Desperate not to leave empty-handed, I'd blurted it out. I needed that noose from the broadcasting room message, but no blades anywhere in the school. Breaking glass might work, but would it even shatter? And I didn't have the nerve for property damage—another warning letter would be disastrous. The predecessor must've found one somewhere, but I couldn't.
If I hadn't found it yet, it was probably in a forbidden area per the rules. Like the staff room.
"I have one, but do you need it?"
"Huh? Really? I'd be grateful to borrow it."
"Wait here, then."
Song Ha-yeon stood and headed to the staff room, slipping inside after opening the door. I glimpsed the interior—ordinary office setup. Didn't look dangerous. The rules were honest about hazards but vague on details, which was a bummer.
Soon she returned. "It's 9:40 now. And here's the cutter."
"Thanks."
It was a standard cutter knife—blade sharp too. Cutting the noose would take forever, but having a tool was huge progress.
"Guard, heading down now?"
"Yeah. Fun talk."
"For me too. Let's chat like this again."
She waved goodbye. I nodded back and headed right down the hall. Passing Class 2-4, I glanced back—third-floor hallways were safe for that.
For a moment, I thought I saw her blank face again. But Song Ha-yeon was still smiling at me. Staring at her, I suddenly wondered what her youkai form looked like. Like Kim Eat-Chil turning from boy to mud monster, did she reveal her true self in dark spaces?
If I lasted until 10 and all lights went out, maybe I'd see. But I had zero intention of risking my life for mere curiosity.
I quietly descended the stairs.
At 10 sharp, the school lights vanished as expected. I locked the main gate and checked classroom doors like always. Luck was on my side—all were secured. No incidents. Now for real free time.
As the saying goes, grasp the iron horns while hot. I grabbed the cutter and headed to the gym storage. The noose still hung there. From inside, looking at it showed the bright city street illusion.
The Gallery swore it was fake. No lingering.
I extended the blade, gripped the top of the noose, and sawed back and forth. Progress! The rope was tough, but it frayed bit by bit. After about five minutes of struggle, it snapped free from the ceiling.
Now it showed no illusion. Per the rules, it bound anything. I still didn't grasp how, but the predecessor called it a useful one-use item, so it must be worthwhile.
I took the now-ordinary noose back to the guard room.
Tasks done, I entered the guard room and immediately hit the fridge. I'd rushed to the counseling room at nightfall and hadn't eaten since—stomach growling fiercely.
No tray today, just a bowl of steaming kimchi mal-ee guksu noodles. I thanked the fridge profusely, slurped it down, and checked the Gallery.
Surprisingly quiet. I'd expected the newbie still posting up a storm. Post list showed no updates from them in the last 30 minutes.