Youth: The Yankee Is Kind to Me
Is there anything more deceptive than the word “youth,” that spring when all living things turn green? People claim making friends, falling in love, laughing and chatting together is the golden age of life. But to me it was nothing more than self-consolation from herbivorous animals who couldn’t survive unless they flocked together.
‘Relationships lower a human’s intensity.’ Recalling that philosophical line I’d read somewhere (probably dialogue from the protagonist of some light novel), I pulled my hood down even deeper today as well.
The noise around me was nothing but static to ears that had no noise-canceling function. I was a lone wolf.
…Yeah, right. Truth was I was simply scared and annoyed at the thought of talking to the other kids. One wrong word and if I heard something like “Oh my, Daseul. Did you just stutter? That’s so cute,” my fragile glass heart would shatter on the spot. The shards would slice me to pieces.
That was why, today again, I entrusted my soul to the 2D pretty boys inside my smartphone. This was the utopia where ideal beauty gathered. The flesh-and-blood body in reality was merely a bridgehead to that sanctuary.
But then.
“Hey, Daseul.”
A voice suddenly invaded my solitary sanctuary. Low and smooth, it somehow carried a faintly sweet fragrance. I didn’t need to look up. Everyone in our class knew the owner of that voice.
Kang Siwoo. The platinum-blonde Yankee and the predator who sat next to me. The exact type of guy I hated most.
Thump.
My heart began to race wildly on its own.
No, calm down, Im Daseul. He’s one of those flashy types. He lives in a completely different world from a gloomy girl like me.
The candy he gave me yesterday, the greeting today—it was probably just pity, the way you’d look at a poor stray dog. After all, the semester had already been going for a month. While everyone else formed their little groups, there I was, sitting pathetically alone right beside them. It would have been strange if it hadn’t caught his eye.
It was a relief he wasn’t one of those mean popular kids who insulted and secretly tormented me, but precisely because of that, approaching someone who lived in a different world felt wrong.
Yet a pubescent brain isn’t something you can control just because you want to. The moment Siwoo greeted me, my thoughts spiraled: he thinks of me as special → a sign of confession? → marriage → honeymoon in the Maldives? → Two kids would be nice. The first a pretty boy who takes after Siwoo, the second a pretty girl who doesn’t take after me at all but looks exactly like her dad.
These kinds of fantasies took over.
These days men contributed to society too, but the head of the household was still usually the woman. No matter how you looked at him, Siwoo wasn’t cut out to be a career man, so I’d have to earn the money and support the family. Then Siwoo would stay home wearing nothing but a modest apron, and when I came back from work he’d say, “Daseul, you’re home? Want dinner first, or… me first?” and…
“U-uh…? H-hi?!”
My answer came late because I’d been dragged into my own delusion. I’d even bitten my tongue from nerves and my pronunciation slipped… I wanted to die. He was definitely going to laugh, right?
But instead of laughing at my mistake, Siwoo pulled his chair closer and stared straight at me. His silver piercings swayed, brushing his white neck. It was a rather bold, aggressive distance for an outcast girl like me.
“You’re really into that game today. You’ve been staring so hard since earlier.”
“……!”
Siwoo naturally leaned in my direction. The sunlight glinting off his silver piercings dazzled my eyes. Or maybe it wasn’t the piercings but the radiance pouring off his face. And as he drew closer, I caught a pleasant scent… Was this… Siwoo’s fragrance?
Siwoo’s voice sounded right beside my ear. The illusion that his breath had touched me raised goosebumps on the back of my neck. This was dangerous. Did this guy even realize how risky what he was doing was? When a guy approaches a girl first and asks about her private space, it’s practically the same as seducing her with “Do whatever you want with me!”
“I-it’s nothing! You wouldn’t understand even if I told you! A Yankee like you has nothing to do with this stuff!”
I hurriedly hid my smartphone against my chest. Oops. I’d been rude again. Calling him a Yankee. What if it hurt his feelings?
But far from being hurt, Siwoo narrowed his eyes and smiled as if he found it amusing. That smile was definitely not the modest one I liked from well-behaved male students. Instead it was sly, relaxed… the smile of a popular kid enjoying my panic.
“So?”
“……Huh?”
“School is a place you come to learn things you don’t know, right? So you just learn it. …Even though I’m not that great at schoolwork myself?”
Teehee.
He struck an exaggerated teehee pose right in front of me! His cheeks even flushed a little, as if he felt slightly embarrassed himself. To keep smiling like sunshine and treating me so kindly… A shadow character like me could only melt and disappear in front of that kind of light. This was foul play. It had destructive power that should be banned at a national level. Did he not know that the heart of a gloomy girl like me would melt instantly when exposed to this high-output popular-kid energy?
No. Judging by those relaxed eyes, he clearly knew exactly what he was doing.
“So won’t you tell me?”
Siwoo drove the point home again. He lowered his head even further, as if trying to sneak a glance at the smartphone I’d hidden against my chest. A few strands of his platinum hair brushed my shoulder and neck. It tickled. And that tickle raced straight down my spine, sending electric jolts through my whole body.
“No way! This is… this is the kind of thing that would make someone like you freak out!”
I defended my smartphone with everything I had. Of course. What I was reading was a doujinshi for a subculture game. It was the industry’s top title, popular even among male players with great offline event turnout, but that only meant anything to otakus like me. There was a high chance he’d never even heard of it.
Yet Siwoo didn’t back off. If anything, the idea seemed to intrigue him more. He whispered with that same sly smile.
“Something that would make me freak out? Now I’m even more curious. I’m surprisingly open-minded, you know?”
He stared straight into my eyes. Reflected in his pupils was my pathetic, flustered self. Siwoo was savoring every single reaction. Like a predator watching prey caught in a trap.
“If it’s really that hard to say…”
Siwoo took one more step closer. Now his breath was practically brushing my cheek.
“I guess it can’t be helped. Tell me next time if you feel like it?”
At that moment the server in my brain screamed and burst into flames. Promising a next time → promising a future → a proposal → but shouldn’t the girl be the one proposing? → What should I get as a reverse-proposal gift? → Should we have a baby before the wedding?
The rotten brain filter of a gloomy-girl otaku was a pair of colored glasses that made her view nearly everything in the world this way. Literally color-tinted glasses.
“Daseul? Your face is really red. Are you actually sick?”
Siwoo approached, looking both worried and flustered, reaching toward my forehead. Just before his slender fingers touched my skin—
Drip.
I heard something snap. Whether it was my reason or a blood vessel in my brain, I couldn’t tell.
“……Huh?”
Siwoo’s eyes widened. His gaze dropped to the space under my nose. A hot, sticky liquid streamed down, dripping from my chin onto the desk.
Drip. Drip.
Bright red flowers bloomed across the white surface.
“……W-wait?! Daseul! You’ve got a nosebleed!”
“……Ah.”
A flustered Siwoo leaned in close. What supported my nose was a pure-white handkerchief. Even amid the pressure and the metallic smell of blood, a faint sweet scent lingered.
“Breathe through your mouth first! Don’t let it go down your throat, okay? Don’t panic!”
Kang Siwoo’s features were a little sharp. He usually smiled pleasantly so it didn’t stand out much, but his eyes and brows gave him a cat-like, seductive, and somewhat cold look. He was the very picture of an ice prince. For that ice prince to frown in worry for me… It had to be an expression he rarely showed…?
An emotion I couldn’t put into words welled up inside me.
“Hehe… Siwoo… Don’t worry…! I think I was just a little tired.”
“Really? That’s a relief! Damn, class is about to start! Hey, I’m taking Daseul to the infirmary, so if the teacher comes tell them I didn’t skip or run away, okay? Promise?”
Siwoo’s head slipped under my shoulder. It was a classic arm-around-the-shoulders hold. In terms of raw strength I was probably far stronger than Siwoo since he was a guy, but because he was taller he had to bend deeply at the waist.
And that meant…
His c-collarbones are going to show…
His collarbones were at a position where they were almost visible. He’d even pulled my center of gravity toward himself, so they brushed against me little by little.
My head grew dizzy and tingly again as the nosebleed threatened to overflow once more.
Youth was boring. But if this was the kind of youth where the highest-ranking boy in the school caste system worried about me, maybe pouring out a basin of nosebleeds every day wouldn’t be so bad.
That was what I thought.
And so I decorated my first-ever physical contact with a popular guy by covering my face in nosebleeds.
By the way… the two of us heading to the infirmary together… Maybe I’d get an ecchi event too…? Ehehe.