The Gloomy Girl Doesn't Smell
It was a refreshing morning. Thanks to the run I went on yesterday and turning in early, my condition was at its absolute peak. As expected, a person needs to maintain a regular schedule. Even if my outer appearance was that of a yankee with platinum-blonde hair and piercings dangling everywhere, inside I was a solid, military-discharged young man forged by morning formations. It hadn't been that long since my discharge, so those healthy mental habits still remained. They were habits the me of this world had originally enjoyed anyway. Was my body more energetic too? Running actually felt more fun.
“Oppa, have a good day at school! If any weird girls try to talk to you, ignore them!”
Leaving behind Siyeon's overprotectiveness—she had followed me all the way to the front door to fuss with my clothes—I headed off to school. Whatever else you could say, it was nice that school and home were so close. It wasn't like I was sleeping in and showing up late, but having that much breathing room was definitely a plus.
I stepped into the classroom. The bell hadn't rung yet, so the room was noisy and lively. I walked to my seat like always. But the state of the person sitting next to me was a little strange.
“……”
Im Daseul. She usually hunched over staring at the floor, but today she looked like she'd straight-up mortgaged her soul to the desk. Up close, heavy dark circles hung under her eyes and her unfocused pupils were drifting somewhere in midair. This was… a very familiar look. It reminded me of a private shivering inside his tent on the third day of cold-weather training, right before the final return march.
I hung my bag on the side of the desk and spoke to her in a sly tone.
“Hey, Im Daseul. What's wrong with your face? You look completely wrecked.”
“H-hiiik?!”
The moment she heard my voice, Daseul shot up like a spring. She was so startled the chair scraped back with a loud clatter. Everyone's eyes turned our way, but I ignored them and leaned in close to her face.
“What happened? Did something come up after we texted yesterday? You seriously look like a mess…”
“Huh? Is it that bad?”
Daseul's face flushed bright red in an instant. Her already sunken eyes wavered with panic, and the sight was honestly entertaining.
“Look at those dark circles. They're practically panda level. You can't burn through your stamina like this after just one day of training.”
I chuckled and flicked her forehead lightly with a finger. Daseul panicked in embarrassment and yanked her hood down deeper, but the tips of her ears peeking out were already red as ripe tomatoes.
“I-it's not like that…! I just… stayed up late reading a book… It's true…”
“A book? What book? The one with all the half-naked guys you were reading in the library yesterday?”
“N-no it's not!”
Daseul practically screamed the denial and flopped back down onto the desk. I stared at the back of her head and smiled with satisfaction. Her reactions were so transparent that teasing her never got old.
“Hey, sit up. Class is about to start. Don't fall asleep and get caught by the teacher again, or you'll end up with another nosebleed.”
Instead of answering, Daseul only let out a muffled groan and buried her face even deeper. I had a feeling that dragging her through training today was going to be pretty exhausting.
Ding-dong-dang-dong—.
Unfortunately, the bell signaling the start of first period rang out. And of all things, the first class was the mind-numbingly boring moral education period—specifically the section on sexual ethics that every pubescent boy and girl loved. Moral education in a gender-reversal world… with ethics that were pretty loose and tattered, how should I put it… it was irritating in all sorts of ways. Still, listening to the same old obvious lines—men should cherish their bodies, women shouldn't treat men roughly—but in reverse, made me drowsier than the political indoctrination sessions from my previous life.
It was the same mindset as a soldier forced to study the pain of conscripted labor. But the one suffering even more than me was, of course, Im Daseul beside me.
“……Ugh.”
She had fused with the desk. Even when the teacher entered and called roll, she barely managed a tiny nod, looking like her soul might slip out of her mouth at any second.
I rested my chin in my hand and watched her with keen interest.
Nod… nod….
Her head, battling against sleep, swayed dangerously. Like a candle flame flickering in the wind, it somehow held on until, at some point, it lost balance and flopped straight toward me.
Thud.
“……!”
A heavy yet soft sensation landed on my shoulder. Daseul's head had settled perfectly against it. The faint scent of shampoo drifting from under her hood and the sound of her steady breathing traveled down my arm.
I felt a little guilty thinking it, but honestly I'd assumed she didn't wash. Wasn't the universal slander that gloomy girls smelled bad basically canon? As expected, slander was just slander. Yeah, yeah—of course no one actually walked around without bathing.
Oh ho, would you look at this?
This was a textbook rom-com event. It might not have been full-on lucky pervert territory, but a beautiful girl (gloomy edition) borrowing her deskmate's shoulder to sleep during a boring class was pretty close.
I lowered my shoulder a little to make it more comfortable without waking her. Maybe because my shoulder was well-trained from regular exercise, it must have felt nice—Daseul let out a strange “Mmmnya……” and even lightly hugged my arm.
In that instant, the air inside the classroom turned ice-cold.
“Hey, did you see? Im Daseul is totally on Kang Siwoo's shoulder right now…”
“No way, they must actually be dating. Look at Kang Siwoo's face—he looks so gentle.”
The girls' whispers rolled over us like a wave. I savored their stares and even reached out to lightly play with a strand of Daseul's hair. Seeing the same kids who used to ignore her now staring in shock filled me up more than a plate of jeyuk-bokkeum ever could.
Like that, fifty minutes that felt like ten passed by, and finally break time approached.
By the way, the teacher not waking her up was pretty legendary. With dark circles that severe combined with Daseul's usual impression, anyone would think a critically ill patient had been carried in. In fact, the teacher only scolded the kids who kept glancing back at us. They probably noticed but chose to let it slide.
Ding-dong-dang-dong—!
“Mmm…… Huh?”
Startled by the bell, Daseul's eyes snapped open. It took her roughly three seconds to realize she had been using my shoulder as a pillow.
“H-hiiik?! S-sorry! Why am I…!”
“Sleep well? My shoulder isn't cheap, you know. I'll send you the rental bill later.”
I grinned slyly and rolled my stiff shoulder. Daseul's face burned so red it looked ready to explode as she flailed in panic. Just as she was about to apologize again, a familiar figure approached from the back door.
“Daseul, you said you went to sleep early yesterday… Why does your face look like that?”
It was Wooju. The library fairy—no, the otokonoko my radar had locked onto.
Wooju walked over to Daseul with a worried expression, but his eyes were shooting sharp daggers straight at me.
“Ah, Wooju… It's nothing, I'm just a little tired…”
“Really? You said you were tired and going to bed yesterday too. There's nothing going on, right?”
Wooju wrapped an arm around Daseul's shoulders and glared at me. The look in his eyes was pure hostility—the gaze you'd give a bad yankee punk who had seduced a pure, good-hearted kid. It was quite a sight coming from such a feminine face.
Ooh… If you keep looking at me like that, I might start feeling strange. Just kidding. No matter what, there's absolutely no way I'd fall for an otokonoko! Absolutely never!
Even though the gloomy girl next to me had a perfectly pretty face but didn't know how to dress up, leaving her hair long, messy, and completely wild because she never used treatment or a comb, and even though her skin was clear her complexion looked haggard and not dewy at all, her lips were moist but completely colorless, her skin pale, and she wore thick glasses that hid her large, beautiful eyes—by contrast, his neat bob-cut hair with its slight brown tint flowed nicely, his skin was like white canvas but flushed with healthy color, his lips were plump and carried a soft pinkish-red, and while his narrowed eyes could look a little sharp, his usual gaze was kind, like a puppy pretending to be a kitten… no, a baby kitten. And unlike the unpleasant pervert who, though an otaku, simply liked sexy male characters, he was a human cheat code overflowing with academic talent, wisdom, knowledge, common sense, culture, grace, and dignity—a perfectly balanced literary-and-martial-arts fraud character! But still, there is absolutely, positively no chance I would ever spin the millstone with Wooju!
I didn't avoid Wooju's gaze. Instead I boldly draped my arm over Daseul's other shoulder and answered.
“That's what I thought. She talked with me last night and went straight to bed. Right, Daseul?”
“Eh? Uhh…… Y-yeah, I guess?”
Daseul's eyes darted back and forth between us, completely flustered.
Wooju's brow furrowed slightly. Refusing to get caught in my rhythm, he took Daseul's hand firmly and said,
“Daseul, next period is a moving class, right? Let's go together. I'll carry your bag.”
“Ah, thanks, Wooju…”
As Wooju led her out of the classroom, he turned back at the last second and mouthed silently at me.
…I really didn't do anything that serious, but I still feel wronged. Sensing all the favorability I'd built up at lunch yesterday plummeting, I got ready for the moving class as well.