Same-Age Tutoring (10)
I crushed the first mock exam in Ban Do-young's body and headed home. I don't know the details, but I'd probably smashed right through the lowest score I'd ever gotten back in my own school days.
It was the first school event I'd tackled as Ban Do-young since the entrance ceremony, but nothing particularly dramatic happened. Even without my possession, Ban Do-young never seemed all that interested in studying anyway. Botching a single mock exam that doesn't even factor into grades wouldn't shake up this world much.
"I'm home."
"Yeah, okay... Hold on. Oh, no, my daughter's just gotten home."
Thanks to the mock exam, I was a bit later than usual. As I walked in, Dad was on a quiet phone call with someone. No speakerphone, so no clue who it was.
"Do Ha-min's skipping kendo today. With the exam right after and then evening self-study, squeezing in a lesson felt too much."
"Oh, got it. Sorry, Do-young. Dad's on a call right now."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll head up to my room first."
"Alright. Good work today."
"...Good work? Oh, yeah."
Dad gestured for me to go upstairs. I slipped quietly into my room without a sound.
"Oh, yeah... Do-young just came in. Right, where were we...? Got it. We'll do that. The kids' mom will agree. I don't want them slacking off on studies forever..."
His voice faded as I tossed my bag and flopped onto the bed.
"Wonder if I should mention the exam today."
Nah, the original Ban Do-young, who couldn't care less about studying, probably wouldn't report every little mock test. Do Ha-min's lesson was off today, and Sa-hyung and Hye-rang had plans, so we split early. Felt like ages since I'd just lounged alone like this—no Do Ha-min, no Sa-hyung, no Hye-rang.
"What time is it?"
Normally, I'd grab my phone from beside me, but today it was just out of reach from where I'd landed. No way was I getting up again, so I tilted my head toward the analog clock on the wall instead.
"What the? I only lay down for a sec, and it's already 5:15? Where'd my time go?"
The hour hand had raced ahead weirdly, jolting me upright. I snatched my phone—4:55 on the dot. The wall clock was solo-speeding 20 minutes fast, for some reason.
"Knew it. Only five minutes down. No way it'd jumped that far."
Digital over analog, every time. Tension gone, I set the phone down and eased back into bed. About an hour till dinner. Afternoon off—pure me-time, no interactions. I yanked the blanket I'd flung aside that morning and hugged it tight.
"Phew, alright... maybe catch a quick nap..."
"Ban Do-young, it's already 10. Brush your teeth, wash your feet, then sleep."
"...What."
And that was the end of Ban Do-young's day.
"Everyone, for morning homeroom today, I've got one piece of good news and one piece of bad news to share."
Just like any other morning, Ms. Mi-so stood at the podium, but her face was oddly downcast. Her usual neat, put-together look was off—everything felt disheveled, like she was rushed and out of sorts. The beige dress shirt was wrinkled all over, sharp creases like Korean geography ridges she loved bragging about. But the hem? Total mess. The collar button was popped open like it was suffocating, and if you leaned just right from the front row, you could probably spot her bra color. Sleeves were worse—coffee stains dotted them like polka dots from a morning spill.
"Something's up with Ms. Mi-so. She looks depressed."
"Dumped by her boyfriend? Does she even have one?"
"Yeah. Nothing on day one either. But what's with that?"
"Look at her face—total hungover wake-up vibe."
Her flushed, puffy face screamed mid-20s clinging to youth, paired with the messy clothes? Drunk last night for sure.
"That's the face you get from drinking, crying without makeup removal, and crashing."
"How would you know? You've never even tried."
"Oops."
"Wait, have you been sneaking drinks behind our backs?"
"Classic natural-born delinquent, Do-young-ie."
"Sigh, model student, don't go there."
"I know. Me neither."
"Yeah, advice from someone who's lived a little."
"What're you on about, September baby maknae?"
Ban Do-young, Sa-hyung, Hye-rang—they all seemed like they'd never touched booze properly, even in middle school. Looking at their faces, you'd think they'd graduated from it during elementary school trips. Good kids by nature? Or just all-ages webtoon perks? Either way, good sign. Booze, smokes, weed, gambling, drugs—too early for kids without self-control. Wait till adulthood. (Though adults without it are just as bad, at least they own it.) Oh, right—cubes and hard drugs? Never, adult or not.
"Not about me now. Listen to teacher."
Yeah, whether Ms. Mi-so broke up with a boyfriend and drowned sorrows in booze? Irrelevant. Point was her good and bad news for us.
"So, what'll it be, everyone? Good or bad first?"
"Bad!"
"Start weak, end strong!"
Kids leaned toward bad news first. Me too. Better take the hit upfront. Good ending makes it all good. Suffering leads to glory... etc. Ancestors' wisdom proves people prefer strong finishes. Dragon-head-snake-tail vs. snake-head-dragon-tail? Everyone picks the latter. Enduring early mush and getting blown away late beats a fun start crashing hard. Most memorable hits are like that anyway.
So most kids bet on snake-head-dragon-tail and picked bad news.
"The mock exam results are out... and our school ranked in the national bottom tier."
"Ah..."
Ms. Mi-so looked teary, but the class stayed chill. No big deal for most—this wasn't make-or-break. Bulsago High aims for college but isn't hyper-academic. First stab at college-style mocks? Most weren't prepped, scored way below average. Midterms/finals count for grades—this national mock? Nah. Unless you're top-student material, few took it seriously.
"Sniff... Isn't that terrible news? All your hard study wasted, not showing results... So sad and bad!"
"Uh, yeah."
"Especially... Korean Geography! I taught my best, but below national average?! Why?!"
"So her hangover was from..."
"Yes... one drink. Grades don't matter—just remember study attitude."
"...Tough."
Forgot how much our homeroom teacher obsessed over academics. National flop—even non-grade mock—was pure bad news to her.
"Phew, false alarm. Thought it was serious with the good/bad buildup."
"Yeah, only bad for her."
"Mock exams? Whatever, no biggie."
"Wait, so basically just good news then?"
Kids sighed relief, faces easing. Not as dire as feared.
"Sorry I couldn't teach better...! I'll work harder! For higher midterm scores!"
"Woo! Our teacher's awesome!"
"We're fine—don't be sad!"
"So, good news? School trip decided?"
"Right! Good news time!"
Inspired, Ms. Mi-so wiped misty eyes, beaming.
"Principal approved: low mock scorers get night self-study slots they missed signing up for!"
"...Pardon?"
Kids doubted their ears.
"Students way below midterm average get school-supported night study till semester end! Great, right? School helping your studies so hard!"
"..."
"Already talked to parents! Now, just study!"
Forgot again. Her "good" news was good only to her. "Special class"? Nah—threat: bomb midterms too, and forget rights, you're forced into night study.
"Ban Do-young, fighting!"
"Fuck."
"Kekeke, congrats on mandatory night study early."
Ms. Mi-so's first shoutout named me class airhead official.
"...Hey, model student."
Her tiny hand—only one spot to lean—grabbed Do Ha-min's oversized uniform sleeve like it was natural.
"Uh...?"
"...Save me."
It was the last day of March drawing near. The day we became each other's tutoring teachers.