Same-Age Tutoring (6)
Mom had left for overseas, and more than two weeks had passed since then. It felt like just yesterday I'd gotten the calendar marked with the school schedule, but now it was time to flip the page and welcome a new month. That meant I'd been possessing Ban Do-young from Half Half Island for almost a full month now.
In other words, my relationship with Do Ha-min was nearing the one-month mark too.
Time flies, damn.
Go to school. Tease Do Ha-min. Hang out with Sa-hyung and Hye-rang. Teach Do Ha-min kendo. And tease Do Ha-min some more. Like those old viral videos summing up an ordinary high schooler's day, once I'd cycled through my daily routines, the day was over in a flash. Especially teasing Do Ha-min—twice a day minimum, weekends excluded. Otherwise, it didn't feel like I'd lived a proper day.
This world had dropped on me out of nowhere, but it was surprisingly fun all the same. It was wild how accustomed I'd gotten to life as Ban Do-young, the main heroine herself. I'd always adapted well—no stomach issues from new foods, no tossing and turning in new beds—but keeping that up after possessing a sensitive high school girl in her prime? Unreal.
Guess this body lived by the "whatever happens, happens" motto.
With a face like this, who could blame her? If anything, the original Ban Do-young from this world—world's top beauty or not, with no one watching her back—might've had it worse, living purely on whims.
"I'm off to school."
"Yeah, alright. Be careful."
To put it nicely, it was a peaceful routine; not so nicely, nothing ever changed. That's what I figured that morning too.
"Good morning, Miss Mi-so!"
"Oh, Do-young. You're early today!"
"Heard you were on gate duty, so I sprinted right over."
"That's my girl. Seeing you grow like this is so impressive!"
"Haha, flattery won't get you anywhere."
"I can't wait to see that awesome side of you in class too!"
"...Huh? Sure. Leave it to me."
The school that morning felt oddly bustling. High school mornings with a bunch of growing teens were never quiet, but today had a different vibe.
I headed to class after getting some cryptic cheer from Miss Mi-so. Even up to stepping inside, that subtle unease—or whatever it was—lingered.
The original Ban Do-young had my knack for adapting to changes, plus a sharp sense for picking up on them. Amid the classroom chatter, there was this undercurrent of tension everyone was feeling too.
"Hey, Do-young. Morning."
"Morning, everyone."
"Oh, Do-young. Hi."
"Come on in. See Miss Mi-so at the gate?"
"That's why I hurried. Can't risk that butt-whooping again—might end up with four cheeks."
Ban Do-young was always the center of attention in this class, heck, the whole school. The moment I walked in, half the kids greeted me warmly. Up to here, it was business as usual.
-Clunk
-Drag
But one thing was off: every kid in the room was dragging their desk around like hermit crabs with shells on their backs.
"...You're here."
"Hey, class prez."
That's when I ran into An Seong-gyeong, busy shoving her desk too. Maybe because of that virgin-loss incident in the gym storage room, she wasn't as chummy as the others. But her usual gruff distance actually felt reassuring. With her, that was genuine—no need for fake politeness now that the grudge was cleared.
"Why's everyone wrestling their desks? Group dragon car sex fever or what?"
"Quit spouting nonsense... You're here too, so move your seat already. I'm right behind you."
"Move my seat...? Why?"
"You seriously don't know? It's exam day."
"...Huh."
End-of-March mock academic exam. Suddenly, it clicked—that nagging unease all morning. I had a serious case of study phobia.
……
"Kekeke, Miss Mi-so hammered it yesterday, and you forgot?"
"No wonder I dreaded coming to school today."
"At least you're not late. Otherwise, we'd have hauled your desk."
"Wah... I hate this domestic webtoon world."
For exams, desks are separated in pairs to prevent cheating. Especially nationwide mocks—they're extra strict on seating, arranged strictly by attendance number. It's prepping for the college entrance exam, after all.
"Lemme see... Number 7 is... Ugh. Front by the teacher's desk."
Bulsago High sorted attendance numbers alphabetically by gender. So today, even close friends got split up—unless they shared surnames or starting consonants.
"Alright, see you at lunch then."
"Loser of Korean and math buys from the canteen?"
"That's just making Do-young buy it."
With different surnames, me, Sa-hyung, and Hye-rang scattered per our numbers. Our usual trio splintered off to different sections. We wished each other luck heading to our spots. Rendezvous: lunch, four hours later. Shabbyondy style.
"Oh, wait..."
I glanced back at the one desk left abandoned—Do Ha-min's.
"Hye-rang, where's the model student?"
"Huh? Yeah, wasn't there when I got here. Bag's hooked up, so he must've come."
"Hmm..."
"Do Ha-min's on duty this week. Probably grabbing milk downstairs."
An Seong-gyeong, who'd snuck her desk behind mine, tossed that out casually.
"Eek, prez! Why're you behind me?"
"'Cause Ban's 7 and An's 8."
"Ah."
"Do Ha-min's 24. Fourth week, his turn."
Bulsago High split numbers by gender: girls 1-20, boys 21-40, alphabetical. Schedules revolved around them—from mock seating to weekly class duties.
Do Ha-min was 24—fourth boy alphabetically. Unlucky him: duty week four, mock exam. While everyone shuffled, he was stuck solo in the back corner.
"Yeah, even if he's first in, can't move alone. Gotta wait for group cleanup, or you'd mess with someone else's."
...Hold up.
My eyes caught a girl chatting and laughing with friends at her new desk. Kim Hae-ju. Class duty partner with Do Ha-min, number 4.
"Hey, prez."
"What."
"If Do Ha-min's on duty, isn't Kim Hae-ju too?"
"Uh... yeah."
"So why's that punk hauling milk while she's over there chilling?"
"...Huh. Why's he gone and she's here?"
"…."
Next thing I knew, my feet were marching toward Kim Hae-ju's desk, next to where Do Ha-min and I usually sat.
"Hey, Kim Hae-ju."
"Oh, Do-young. What's up?"
"You're on duty this week, right? With that Do Ha-min punk."
"Uh... y-yeah?"
She slyly averted her eyes.
"So what're you doing here? Word is he's downstairs grabbing milk."
"N-no, I am on duty, but I was late today... And I just got here—stairs are a pain. So I asked him to handle it solo just this once, and he said sure..."
"…."
"D-Do-young... why're you glaring like that?"
-Bang!
Her desk flipped backward.
"Eek! W-what?!"
"Sorry, kicked your desk. In exchange, I'll cover your duty today."
"...H-huh?"
I hauled Do Ha-min's abandoned desk to his assigned spot.
"Hey, prez. Cool if I take duty? Suddenly craving it."
"Yeah, do whatever."
"Gotcha, no dick but I'll do it my way."
I bolted downstairs to the first-floor milk fridge.
"Huff... huff... Damn, heavier than I thought."
"Yo, model student!"
"...Huh?"
Sure enough, there he was at the bottom of the stairs, struggling up with a plastic crate of nearly 30 milk packs.
"Oh, hey. You just get here?"
"You gullible idiot."
"W-what, out of nowhere?"
"He tells you to go solo, and you actually do it? You should've grabbed that girl's hair and dragged her!"
"N-no way, can't do that!"
Water dripping from the fresh fridge packs soaked his jacket and shirt as he climbed, sweat beading on his forehead.
"...S-so you moved my desk too? Must've been heavy."
"Yeah, freaking heavy. Bags, desks—what's with all the weight?"
"I-I can't easily borrow textbooks, and can't run home mid-day. So I stuff everything in the desk."
"Explains it. Damn, sprinting here got me sweating too. Thirsty for a Zero Lime."
March was warming up. Full jacket sprint down the hall even beaded sweat on perfect Ban Do-young skin.
"N-no cola now, but if you're thirsty..."
He pulled a milk pack from the crate and offered it.
"H-here, have some m-milk...?"
"…."
-Snap!
I flicked his sweaty forehead hard.
"Ow! Why'd you hit me?!"
"Don't offer milk like that's your line."
"...Huh? What do you—"
"There's reasons."