My Bra (5)
People often say these days that schools are way too easy. That kids have it so cushy going to school now. No corporal punishment? Then how the hell do you manage the brats? No self-study sessions at night? Then when are you supposed to study? A school without morning self-study? Then isn't that just great for all the chronic latecomers? A school that doesn't even give midterms in the first semester? Then what the hell are you doing during that time? Skipping school altogether for online classes? Man, kids these days really are sucking on the sweetest honey while coasting through school.
No need to divide parents and kids by generations. Ten years? Nah, forget that—even a gap of five years, or as little as three, makes it impossible to imagine you were ever in the same space. The kinds of experiences just diverge that much. Heck, in college, taking a two-year military leave doesn't even get you treated like some ancient relic anymore. Dinosaurs need 150 million years to turn into fossils, but humans fossilize after just two. And the irony is, even in the military itself, they make generational distinctions over a few months' difference.
If you haven't shared memories from the same time and place, people always end up belittling each other's experiences. Especially when it's those once-in-a-lifetime things you only get one shot at, unless you're some special case.
I was like that not long ago too. Until I unintentionally ended up living as the main heroine in this pure-love high school webtoon world.
But going through a second school life as Ban Do-young has shown me that even experiences that seemed like they'd never overlap actually do mesh in places. Of course, my school days as a guy back then and my current ones as the webtoon's main heroine aren't the same. Still, even in what I thought were totally different lives, there's definitely an intersection of shared memories.
The walk to school with the morning breeze on your face. Coming home arm-in-arm with your buddies, laughing and chatting about nothing important. All-nighters cramming for exams with friends, eyes fighting sleep. Nervously marking answers, praying they're right. The emptiness after pouring everything out, the sudden frustration and regret over mistakes, the lingering what-ifs. And yet, that sense of relief from knowing you gave it your all to the end.
If even that could become a cherished memory, then surely this experience would remain a shared recollection for most people, no matter the generation.
"Kim Sun-hee."
"Yes."
"Here you go, good work. Next, Kim Hae-jo."
"Yes."
"Let's try a bit harder next time, okay? Next..."
And what I was waiting for right now was one of those intersections common to students of any generation. The thing that makes every student's heart race while also being something they can't give up on.
Truth is, students aren't afraid of exams. They're afraid of what comes after.
Even the mighty Ban Do-young couldn't help shrinking back and tensing up at the thought of this today. Hell, I was so nervous I forgot the bra I'd carefully put on that first day of possession.
Whether it brought good results or bad, this thing never failed to make you cringe.
"Next, Ban Do-young."
"...Yes!"
After my name—Ban Do-young's—was called, I carefully walked up to the teacher's desk.
Standing there was Teacher Mi-so, arms full of stacks of paper.
"Here you go. You worked hard through the whole midterm, Do-young."
"Save that for Do Ha-min instead."
"Yeah, you're right about that. I'll make sure to tell Ha-min later too. You two both did great on this exam."
A few days after the tumultuous midterms, Ban Do-young's report card was finally in my hands.
......
"D-Do-youngie. This for real? Did you beg the class pres for answers mid-exam or something?"
"Hey now, pure skill."
"...This is insane. Honestly, first time seeing something like this since elementary school. Ban Do-young pulling these scores."
"Heh heh, feeling the gap in power yet?"
Choi Sa-hyung was shocked, Yoo Hye-rang impressed. At the bottom of Ban Do-young's report card, the comprehensive average boldly read [72.08].
"No way, Do-youngie's scores starting with a 7—and in the tens place too?!"
"Kuh, so close. Would've been perfect if I'd squeezed out 2 more points for a 74."
"What's with that awkward number?"
"Kuh, 72! Doesn't suit Ban Do-young at all! Kekeke!"
"Then why's your face grinning like that?"
An average of 72. It cleared the mock exam class average of 50+ needed to skip forced night self-study, and even surpassed the 69-point goal from my deal with Do Ha-min.
I was a bit surprised myself at how much higher it was than expected. Credit goes to Do Ha-min's past exam compilations. Their hit rate was so high I could breeze through easy ones and save time for the tough stuff.
For essays, even wrong answers got partial credit if the process was right. Snagged points from unexpected spots that way.
Math was still in the 50s, though. But I boosted the average with nonstop memorization under the Lower People High Aspire mantra in subjects like Ethics, Classical Chinese, and Korean History.
"Never thought the day would come where my score gap with Ban Do-young is this small... Guess I gotta step it up."
"I straight-up lost! Maybe I should ask Ha-minie to tutor me next time."
"Hey, hands off."
"Kidding, kidding. But Do-youngie, if you keep this up, you might crack top 10 in class."
These days, schools announce grades but rarely rankings. It's about evaluating ability, not lining people up for discrimination, they say.
But no matter how much they talk discrimination, humans obsess over rankings more than scores. That's why we go nuts over FIFA rankings more than World Cup results, or burn up over Dio Brando's spot in One Piece's top 10 strongest.
No rankings? Just ask around for class scores and calculate.
"Let's hit up the class pres first."
We turned to An Seong-gyeong, sitting right behind Ban Do-young.
Midterms were over, but our school kept the exam seating arrangement. National civil service exams over the weekend meant keeping the setup. Easier than reshuffling twice—consensus was to hold positions for the week, including now when we got report cards.
Downside: fewer chances to tease Do Ha-min in the mornings post-exams.
"Class pres, how'd you do on the exam?"
"Haa... Don't talk to me, fuck. My mood's total shit right now."
"O-Oh... Just asking and you snap like that...?"
An Seong-gyeong scowled at her report card from Teacher Mi-so, clawing her hair. No teasing yet and she's already this wrecked. What the hell? On her period or something?
"Bad scores got you down?"
"What else? This exam was my all-time worst. Already felt off, and they crammed two memorization subjects on day one... Haa."
An Seong-gyeong finally chucked her report card and face-planted on the desk.
Hey hey, acting like that just makes us more curious.
We snuck behind her and snatched the tossed paper.
"Lemme see what score's got her raging like this."
"Kekeke, lower than Do-youngie's maybe?"
"No way. Unless it's you, Hye-rangie—you said 83 average?"
"Heh, I pushed hard this time. Could happen."
We hummed a little tune, flipping the crumpled report card.
Comprehensive Average: 91.78
"...."
"...."
"...Fucking bitch."
-Thud
We instinctively grabbed An Seong-gyeong's hair as she face-planted and yanked her head up.
"Aaaack! What the hell, you bitches?!"
"This fucking bitch gets 91 average and calls it a total wipeout?!"
"Aaa, hurts! Let go, you bald-headed bitches!"
"And Ethics is a perfect 100 on top—that's straight-up slut-shaming and bald-drip at us."
"You don't get it—how bad I bombed this exam! This score won't even get me first in class!"
Unlike what I'd thought—maybe trying to embarrass us on purpose—An Seong-gyeong's eyes were genuinely red with frustration over not hitting her target.
"Still, this is plenty to aim for first, right? Do-youngie just overperformed weirdly this time, and everyone said the exam was brutal."
"Yeah, maybe in another class..."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"...Our class has Do Ha-min."