Glasses Off Doesn't Make You a Hottie (1)
“Teacher! Do Ha-min's got a nosebleed!”
“What? Hurry to the nurse's office!”
We rush Do Ha-min—who got his nose smashed by the soccer ball—to the nurse's office along with the PE teacher. Normally, the nurse's office is one of those places you absolutely shouldn't drag Do Ha-min to, right up there with the gym storage room or empty club rooms after dark. But with his philtrum stained bright red from the blood gushing out of his nose, we don't have the luxury of being picky. And with the PE teacher as his guardian, nothing like that mess with An Seong-gyeong earlier will happen. Plus, I'm sticking right by his side.
“Nurse Teacher! We've got a critical patient here! It's not just a nosebleed—it's a double nosebleed! Where do we lay the patient down?”
“You don't lay down nosebleed patients. Just have him sit in a chair. I'll grab some tissue and meds.”
Thankfully, in this all-ages Korean webtoon world, Bulsago High's nurse is your standard, no-nonsense intellectual type—no corset cinched to hell, no garter belts peeking from under her skirt, no H-cup distractions. But just in case, I tell Choi Sa-hyung, Yoo Hye-rang, and class president An Seong-gyeong to wait outside. I stay in the nurse's office with the PE teacher to watch over his treatment.
“You're fine. Looks like no major damage. This is pretty common—kids come in all the time from messing around with balls at lunch.”
Come to think of it, back in my school days, I got a double nosebleed from soccer and ended up here too. They made a fuss about it being serious enough for early dismissal, but the nurses just patched me up casually without drama. This nurse is no different. She skillfully treats Do Ha-min's wound, pads it with white cotton and tape, and wraps up the first aid.
“There, all done.”
“Th-thank you, Teacher... No more bleeding. Feels okay now.”
Do Ha-min fiddles with the cotton and bandage on his nose, clearly uncomfortable with the weird sensation on his bridge. Probably never had anything up there besides his glasses frame, so it must itch like crazy.
“Hey, model student. Recognize me?”
I wave my fingers in front of the treated Do Ha-min's face.
“How many fingers?”
“Two... but can you stop pretending I'm some coma patient waking up?”
“Ah, sorry. Always wanted to try that.”
He was dazed from the soccer ball smashing his nose, but not out cold like some detective manga character. With the teacher's support, he walked here on his own two feet—though he left a creepy trail of blood drops behind.
“I'm fine, so don't worry.”
“How could I not? You weren't exactly leading-man material to begin with.”
Poor Ban Do-young's gonna have to live with you after the ending. Not that I'd mind heading home.
“What if your nose got busted so bad you couldn't come back? Who'd shack up with a kid like you?”
“...Sorry. Guess it's 'cause my face is ugly. I was desperately blocking so you guys wouldn't get hit.”
His face flushes as he furrows his brows. Low self-esteem on looks, sure, but even he can't just laugh that off.
“Pfft. Butt-hurt? Just calling an ugly kid ugly?”
“...That's defamation by truthful statement.”
“Puhahaha, smart guy, huh? Super smart. Study hard like this, and maybe your future wife's looks will upgrade? Puhahahaha.”
Sulky face aside, he's playing along with my usual teasing, so no real worry needed. Unlike my school days, where I'd fake injuries for early dismissal and fun, this guy's not skipping class over something like this.
“Phew, anyway, you got lucky this time. Could've been your face.”
“Huh? Lucky how?”
The nurse sighs in relief, and the PE teacher asks.
“Do Ha-min's one thing, but another kid got rushed in worse off.”
She nods toward a bed hidden behind a flimsy screen.
“Aaaah... Ack...”
“Hey, Shim Young-tae. You okay?”
“Can't feel my lower half... Urk!”
A cheap screen like that can't block the agonized screams from the bed.
“We get kids with busted noses from soccer a couple times a month. But once or twice a year, someone comes in with that busted. Early this year, though.”
“...Ah.”
Knowing the full story, Do Ha-min and the PE teacher instinctively cup their groins protectively. I know the pain too, but no joystick to cross hands over, so I skip it.
“Ugh! Thought it was easing up, but it hits again!”
“Young-tae sunbae!? You okay? Sunbae?”
“Shut up! Your yapping makes it hurt more! That bitch Ban Do-young... I was so nice to her, why me...”
“Teacher, he's loud—give that sunbae a shot. The one that drops elephants in one hit.”
“We don't have that here.”
Bang.
The nurse, annoyed by the screams too, slams the room door shut. Finally silences that pointless local broadcast we'd never watch anyway.
“Do Ha-min, lucky your old frames flew off your face on impact. Those have seen better days, huh?”
“Y-yeah... Got 'em in fifth grade, so about five years old.”
Five years—not two or three. Not some old man's reading glasses either; for a kid hitting puberty and growing like crazy, those were way overdue for replacement. Hell, they deserved praise for barely holding shape after a direct soccer ball hit. Though at Do Ha-min's stunted height—frozen since second year middle school probably—he never felt they were too small to swap out.
“Kukuku.”
“Wh-why are you laughing...?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Feels weird though...”
Nope, can't say it. Spill that, and I might actually tank Do Ha-min's affection points. Ruin all the goodwill from spilling my period dates.
“Five years... The grease buildup on the frames and lenses screamed old, but five is risky...”
“O-our family's not in a spot to replace glasses whenever...”
“No matter the situation, parents should cover it for a studying kid, right?”
“B-but Teacher said it was good the old frames kept the lenses from shattering?”
“Sure, this time the frames bent and flew off, saving the lenses. But if they'd shattered together and shards hit your eyes? Blindness risk. Swap at least the frames by end of the week if not today.”
“B-but it's still usable, see? Perfectly f—”
Crack.
Right as he finishes, one temple arm on Do Ha-min's glasses snaps. The dead frames dangle from the other arm like a noose over his nose.
“...”
“Er...”
“See? That was probably its last dance. Don't keep using broken ones—dangerous. Get new ASAP. No other issues, so back to class.”
“...Got it.”
Do Ha-min shuffles out with his lopsided frames.
The moment we emerge, Choi Sa-hyung, Yoo Hye-rang, and class president An Seong-gyeong check him over.
“Nose-min! You're safe, right?”
“Don't shorten it like that.”
Even a minor injury draws eyes with all that cotton and bandage wrapped around his nose. Sa-hyung and Hye-rang reflexively fuss worriedly.
“What, you guys didn't head back to class? Waited the whole time?”
“How could we wait in class when a friend's hurt? Obvious—wait outside the nurse's.”
“Not just 'cause you hate next period?”
They avert their eyes, gauging reactions. The PE teacher nods knowingly.
“These girls. I've seen your faces—I ain't buying that.”
“No, Teacher. I suggested waiting together. He took a ball for us—natural to worry. As class president, I led the wait.”
“Hmm... Fair enough. Do Ha-min's fine, so no funny business—back to class. I got next period.”
“Yes, thank you, Teacher.”
Class president status turns flimsy excuses into solid alibis.
“Anyone free after school? Model student's frames are toast—his one perk, high INT, is tanking. Who wants to hit an optician with him after?”
“Oh, terminal area then. Cute frames there, and the cafe inside's solid.”
“I'm good today. No plans.”
Unlike last Friday's scatter, things click perfectly this time.
“Ah, no... I probably can't.”
Everyone but the star himself.
“Can't? This plan's for you. Who goes if not the model student?”
“St-still, probably not...”
“What's the reason? Spill.”
“...Night self-study starts today.”
“...”
Aw, damn Korean webtoons.