Do-young's Favorite Random Game (1)
I couldn't just throw a student into night self-study without even applying for it, all because they bombed one mock exam that doesn't even count toward their grades. Sure, respecting each individual student is a big deal, but ultimately, keeping kids in school until late at night for studying comes with costs. And the most important factor? Money. Dinner for the students. Classroom operating expenses for their study sessions. Overtime pay for the supervising teachers to maintain a calm learning atmosphere. Keeping students at school until late costs way more than you'd think.
That's why the school always grumbled about it like that. "Why the hell are we paying for self-study no one even wants?" "I'm footing the bill for this crap—can't you guys leave five minutes early?" Back then, public opinion demanded we make them study no matter what, but Korea's public education meta changes like a storm every year. In the decade since I left school, things had slowly shifted. Thanks to that, even in this unexpected second round of high school life, I was barely adapting...
Who would've thought night self-study from those unfree days would get remastered here? And not even as self-study, but as "special study."
"It's okay! A student like you, Do-young, can definitely succeed! I'll help you boost your scores big time before midterms!"
I couldn't spit in the face of Ms. Mi-so's genuinely beaming smile. After all, this teacher was pure—filled with nothing but the desire to teach the joy of studying.
"Haha... fuck."
Fuck was separate, of course.
...
"Argh, damn domestic webtoons!"
-Thud!
After morning homeroom ended and Ms. Mi-so left, I slammed my forehead into the desk, channeling the deep wail rising from my gut. This had to be a dream. I'd wake up and it'd all be bullshit.
"So, did you wake up from the dream and return to reality?"
"Nah, my forehead just hurts like hell."
Ah, if it were that simple, I'd have gone back to my original world ages ago. I lifted my head—forehead red and throbbing, no gains—and let out a bitter sigh.
"Congrats on mandatory night study anyway, Do-youngie."
"Ugh... damn it! Do-che sold me out!"
"Don't call Dad so casually. It's because you've been slacking off too much."
Now I got who Dad was talking to so politely on the phone last night after school. No way it'd be Mom—he was holding the phone with both hands like that.
Ms. Mi-so's elaborate plan had been laying the groundwork from the moment I got home. Basically.
"So what happens now? Do-youngie starts night study tomorrow?"
"Nah, that's tough. To stay at school at night, you need to sign up for dinner too. Even if your house is five minutes away, no dinner signup means no study, even with self-study approved."
Hye-rang was right. Forcing kids to study without feeding them was too cruel, even for a school. Of course, forcing unwanted study while feeding them wasn't exactly kind either.
"Teacher said she'd put you in after midterms if you don't hit the average. Probably starts post-midterms."
"Midterms are late April, so about three weeks left."
My grace period: roughly twenty days. I had to pull my grades up to hit the class average by then. Goal: above year-level midterm average. From my high school memories, it wasn't impossible. But failing? The fallout sucked.
Picturing late nights with Do Ha-min might fit a pure-love webtoon, but compared to one-on-one kendo lessons at my house's dojo—complete with world-class parents as props? No contest. I'd already secured that perfect option.
"Sigh, did I really do that bad? I swear I tried on Korean."
"Kinda weird now that you mention it. It's only been days since the mock, and she's already polling parents on night study."
"...Can I see the test I took?"
Do Ha-min, who'd been watching, spoke up. Perfect—I'd left yesterday's mock under my desk.
"Ooh, Ha-minie. Grading Do-youngie's?"
"Yeah, answers went up right after. I checked my mistakes too."
It'd been a bit since the mock, but we kept the papers in lockers. I grabbed mine from my locker and handed it over.
"Here... my precious baby, filled stitch by stitch. Take good care of her, sensei."
"D-don't mess around, just hand it over..."
Do Ha-min slowly checked answers, scoring my paper.
"Let's see... Ah, number 1's wrong. Answer's 1."
-Scratch.
"Guh! Right out the gate!"
"...Hm. Number 19, you picked 4. I got tripped up too. Answer's 2."
-Scratch.
"Ack! That was solved, not guessed!"
"Ah... 43... not 4, it's 2."
-Scratch.
"Hngh! Stop... keep stabbing like that and I can't hold on..."
"D-don't make weird noises every wrong answer!"
"Sorry, got carried away?"
"That's not it!"
He kept slashing red X's mercilessly. Seeing my random 4's—based on his seat number—crossed out as wrong was tragic. The occasional red circles were like tiny sparks staunching my wounded heart.
"All correct ones added up... Huh...?"
"Done grading? Lemme see—how bad did Do-youngie bomb to earn Ms. Mi-so's wrath?"
"Huh, it's kinda weird..."
Do Ha-min finished, but tilted his head at the scores.
"That bad?"
"No... better than expected."
"...Huh?"
We—me, Sa-hyung, Hye-rang—crowded around the paper.
"For real, Ban Do-young, you passed 65 in Korean. Mock average's around 50, right?"
"Korean History 30 too. Same as me, Do-youngie."
"English 34... below average, but way better than your middle school finals."
How badly did she bomb for Ms. Mi-so to pick her first for forced study? Contrary to our initial worry, Ban Do-young's first mock was decent. Not stellar, but not force-study level. Others scored worse. Per Sa-hyung and Hye-rang, it was huge progress from middle school. Hearing I scored lower than original Ban Do-young—with my decade-old brain—showed how little she cared about studying.
"What, Ban Do-young. They said you never studied."
"Hahaha, did high school debut awaken your study genius? Big deal—now I'm eyeing future hubby material?"
"..."
"Ah, but math's rough. Single digits... not 9, at least."
"That's what tanked the average. Same as middle school."
"Future hubby face normalized."
But Ban Do-young's math—overwhelming even by my original world's standards—killed the average.
"Close though. Decent math gets you mid-tier."
"M-math, just use calculator, why?"
"Do-youngie's below average in English too."
"E-English, Papacats-go, why?"
"Why kendo then? Just use gun."
"Take that back... right now!"
Anyway, Do Ha-min's help cleared one thing: not just the mock flop.
"Definitely..."
So what triggered Ms. Mi-so's study crusade? Something bigger than a bad mock.
"Wasn't the call to Master Ban for night study too quick? Right after the test."
"Scores are excuse. Bet she planned it ages ago. Force Do-youngie to study."
"What'd I do...?"
"Ban Do-young, say anything weird to Ms. Mi-so?"
"Weird...?"
Ah.
...
"Figure out why Ms. Mi-so targeted you?"
"She asked what I wanna be later. I said wise wife and good mother."
"Ugh, you idiot. All your own fault."