Discipline 5: The Disciplinary Committee Leader Worries About His Vice Leader
Oh Baek-seo.
She was the Vice Leader of the Ahseong High School Disciplinary Committee, my classmate, and among the students she was known as the Disciplinary Committee Leader's right hand.
The Baek-seo I knew was a master of reading the room. Sometimes she treated me as if she could read my very mind, or even peer into the future. If this had been an ordinary workplace, she would without a doubt have been on the fast track to promotion.
And yet recently, that same Baek-seo had shown a side of herself that was uncharacteristically disheveled.
'Strange, that.'
One of Oh Baek-seo's hands was wrapped in bandages.
The reason was a burn.
Thanks to the healing mage in the infirmary casting a recovery spell on her, it would be fully healed in four days — but every time I saw it, I couldn't help worrying.
In all the time I'd known her, since first year, Baek-seo had always been a flawless person. So much so that this was the first time I'd ever seen her looking anything less than perfect since I'd enrolled at Ahseong High.
'Well, no one's perfect, though.'
Now that we were Leader and Vice Leader and spent so much time together, I was simply seeing sides of her that had never been visible before — that had to be it.
Satisfied with that reasoning, I nodded to myself.
If anything, discovering this new side of her was a pleasant thing. It made her feel more human.
Of course, that didn't mean I wasn't worried.
'...Nothing bad has happened to her, right?'
If Baek-seo showed herself flustered one more time, I resolved, I would sit her down and seriously ask what was going on — and whether it took counseling or anything else, I would throw every resource I had into helping her.
Because Baek-seo was my closest confidant and a dear friend.
Pitter-patter!
Suddenly, the sound of someone barreling down the hallway echoed from the corridor, and a moment later the door to the Disciplinary Committee executives' office flung open.
"The wild Ha Ye-song has appeared!"
Right on cue.
"Welcome."
"Hey there, Leader, sir!"
Ha Ye-song, our officer in charge of public decency enforcement, had materialized in the executives' office.
"Good to see you, dear."
Oh Baek-seo, the Vice Leader, who had been reviewing agenda items at the table over a cup of black tea, greeted Ye-song warmly.
"Baek-seo, you're here! Gorgeous as ever today! *huff huff*!"
Ye-song-mon was basking happily in the gentle touch of her beloved Baek-seo trainer, who was smiling graciously down at her.
A familiar scene.
Ye-song idolized Baek-seo like a saint. And at the same time, she genuinely adored her.
Granted, that devotion came with the side effect of turning Ye-song into a dog — no, scratch that, a full-on puppy — but there was no question it was an affection of the best kind.
"How's your hand? Does it still hurt? Our dear Baek-seo's precious hand..."
"I'm quite fine."
I quietly watched the two of them chat, my eyes drifting away from the documents in front of me.
"Hmm..."
Ever since becoming Disciplinary Committee Leader, I'd noticed something every time I looked at Ye-song.
An inconvenience, you might say — one that had grown since I gave her a seat among the executives, and one that stood out even more sharply when compared to Baek-seo sitting right beside her.
Her skirt length.
Even after making executive, the girl's skirt was still absurdly short.
Her legs were on full display.
'Do I bring it up or not...?'
By the standards of my past life, pointing out a woman's skirt length at the workplace fell squarely under sexual harassment. That was why I'd been agonizing over it all this time.
The last thing I wanted was for Ye-song to feel sexually shamed.
"Leader? Did you have something to say to me?"
Ye-song asked, a puzzled look on her face.
...Fine. I'd say it today.
'An executive's flaws can translate directly into a weakening of my authority.'
I judged this to be a matter that deserved to be taken seriously.
And conveniently, I had grounds for pointing out her skirt length, too.
"Ha Ye-song."
"Yes, Leader!"
I pointed at her and pressed on.
"Article 45 of the school regulations, Dress Code, Clause 5, Item 2, explicitly states that skirts may be no shorter than ten centimeters above the knee. We exercise reasonable leniency out of respect for student individuality, but even so, your skirt is well beyond that standard."
"?"
"You're a Disciplinary Committee executive now. You need to comply with the regulations to the letter and set a better example for the student body. If you insist on wearing your skirt that short, wear pants instead. If you want to show off your legs, then at least wear shorts."
"......?"
"All the more so since you're the one enforcing public decency. Mind how you carry yourself."
Hm.
Was that lecture a little too by-the-book?
No.
'This is discipline that simply has to happen.'
How could I possibly tolerate someone in charge of decency enforcement blatantly violating the dress code, strutting around with her legs carelessly on display like that?
As a Disciplinary Committee executive, Ye-song needed to observe the dress code.
"......"
But for some reason, Ye-song answered nothing. She just narrowed her eyes into a flat glare and stared holes through me.
Then she gave a response I never saw coming.
"Boomer."
"What?"
For a moment, I doubted my own ears.
That was a word that absolutely, categorically did not belong to me.
Ye-song swung her body around to face me, planted a hand on the back of the sofa, and launched into a tirade.
"Leader, you're a total boomer! Your thinking is stuck in the Stone Age! I can't believe someone like you still exists among the new humanity — I'm honestly appalled!"
Unbelievable.
'A forward-thinking individual like me... a boomer?'
That lecture just now had been for her sake, mine, and the Disciplinary Committee's — everyone's.
And that made me a boomer?
Make it make sense.
"...Ha Ye-song. Even as a joke, that's not something I can just let slide."
"I wasn't joking, though?"
"You were. In my entire life, you're the only person who's ever said that to me."
Past life included.
"Heeere?"
Ye-song covered her mouth with one hand and smirked slyly.
"Oooh... so that's how it is~."
She began slinking toward my desk, where I sat.
Hold on. Wasn't that the look?
The look of a predator that had found its prey.
"Leadeeer~?"
Ye-song leaned her upper body toward me, raised a hand to her mouth, and whispered conspiratorially.
"In that case, shall we run a little test?"
"A test?"
"Let's settle it today — once and for all — whether you're a boomer or not."
Amusing.
Whatever it was, I felt confident.
"Fine. Show me what you've got."
I accepted the challenge.
My plan was simple: if Ye-song tried to railroad me into boomer status with some outlandish logic, I would dismantle her argument by picking apart every hole in her reasoning.
"Vice Leader, want in?"
We couldn't leave our dear Vice Leader sitting all alone on the sidelines, after all.
"Why not."
Baek-seo smiled brightly and joined the fray.
"No problem with me playing along?"
"Oh, not at all. Then — question one!"
Ye-song planted both hands on my desk and declared her quiz with bravado.
"You're at a Disciplinary Committee team dinner at a barbecue restaurant! But one of your subordinates isn't grilling any meat — they're too busy shoveling it into their mouth! In this situation, what do the Leader and Vice Leader do!?"
"What...?"
'A subordinate... not grilling the meat...?'
Could such a thing even happen...?
The question packed a surprising amount of punch, and I found myself flustered.
'That's... uncomfortable, isn't it?'
The more I turned it over, the more my mouth began to itch with the urge to speak up.
I searched my past life for precedent.
In the military, and in the workplace, such a thing was unthinkable. And here in the Disciplinary Committee, it was no different.
At last year's dinner, I had dutifully grilled the marinated beef for everyone, thank you very much...!
But.
'Pointing out that someone should grill the meat, or calling out a subordinate for it — that's a one-way express ticket to Boomerville, and everyone can see it.'
However I looked at it, the scenario felt uncomfortable and suffocating.
Then, in that very moment, a question reared its head, and my eyes flew wide open.
'Wait... was I actually a boomer all along?'
The hand gripping my pen trembled violently.
What could I do when my heart kept drifting toward the answer a boomer would give?
'Calm down.'
First, I deferred my answer.
Then I squared my shoulders upright again and opened my mouth with great care.
"Reverse the scenario."
"Yes?"
"Say you're the one at a barbecue dinner. And there, you notice that the third-year seniors are grilling the meat for everyone by hand — and you realize you've been doing nothing but eating. What do you do then, Ye-song?"
At my cautious question, Ye-song beamed and answered without a beat of hesitation.
"I'd ask them to grill it even tastier!"
!
'How can you even say that...!?'
Just imagining it made me want to cough up blood.
'YOU'RE the one who should be grilling!'
Why weren't you the one cooking the meat?
The third-year seniors were grilling it for you, and you were just stuffing your face...!
"Hmm."
I pretended to be calm on the surface while I deliberated.
Should I answer honestly, or dress up the answer with a little creative embellishment?
To admit that I was a boomer — or not to admit it.
The question swirled through my head, stirring up endless torments and pressing down on me with staggering weight.
This was a matter serious enough to trigger an actual crisis of self-reflection.
This was no lighthearted exchange of questions and answers.
I recited to myself like a mantra:
'As the Leader who commands an armed force of roughly 400 — the highest combat-rated organization at Ahseong High — this is something I must resolve clearly. Whether the one holding command authority is a boomer or not is a question that cannot be overlooked when it comes to the satisfaction and morale of Disciplinary Committee activities.'
No matter how much charisma the Disciplinary Committee Leader possessed, if satisfaction in the work dropped, the members' loyalty would inevitably wane and morale would sink with it.
Which meant that, as the one holding command, I needed to set my own values in proper order.
'I thought this would be a light little Q&A...'
Seventeen years had passed since I was reborn into this world, and never once had I stood at a crossroads that made me agonize like this.
What should I answer?
Which answer best befitted the Disciplinary Committee Leader, Ahn Woo-jin?
"Actually."
Then.
Baek-seo spoke up, a thoughtful look on her face.
"Asking your juniors to grill it for you is the right call, isn't it?"
"It... is?"
Baek-seo stated it flatly.
"I think it's a matter of basic courtesy. If etiquette between seniors and juniors erodes that far, things actually become difficult for everyone. Especially in the Disciplinary Committee, where the chain of command has to be clearer than anywhere else. It's just not right."
'Baek-seo...!'
How could she produce such a refreshingly clear answer!?
That decisiveness.
As expected, our Vice Leader never once let me down.
"Eh...?"
Ye-song's face went slack with shock — apparently she'd never expected such an answer to come out of the eternally gentle Baek-seo's mouth.
For a moment, an unforeseen silence settled over the room.
At last, Ye-song managed to speak.
"Is... is that... how it works?"
As I said before, Baek-seo was Ye-song's idol.
She might get away with it against me, but apparently even Ye-song found it difficult to call Baek-seo a boomer to her face.
Baek-seo looked at me.
"And you, Leader?"
"Same as the Vice Leader."
"So there you have it."
Vice Leader — we were trading off quite naturally, weren't we?
Just the flow I'd been counting on.
Ye-song let out a long "Hnnngh," sank into thought for a while, and then opened her mouth again.
"F-fine, then let's table that one and move to the next question! Do you often tell your juniors things like 'back in my day' and insist that the present is more comfortable than the past?"
"It's a new term, so I haven't said it much lately — but it's true that the Leader has tightened up student discipline somewhat. At the very least, I'd say things are better now than last year, so I probably have said something like that."
"Th-then...! If you saw a junior arrive later than you during club activity hours, would you find it irritating!?"
"Unless I'd come early out of necessity because of my workload? Juniors should generally be there before me, I'd think."
"Do you believe juniors should attend team dinners whenever possible...?"
"Isn't that a good thing? Our juniors would be first-years. They've only just started club activities, so I think it's better that everyone makes an effort to build even a little more camaraderie."
Every time Ye-song fired off a question, Baek-seo answered without a flicker of hesitation, smiling like a fairy.
And every time, she'd turn to me with "And the Leader?" — leaving me no choice but to answer "Same."
Ye-song, clearly reeling, kept stammering "Uh— um—."
Because Baek-seo kept saying the answers I'd been about to give before I could give them, she couldn't even bring herself to mess with me anymore.
'Wait...'
Come to think of it — hadn't this put some serious damage on my image?
Somehow it felt as if the Vice Leader had taken the bullet for me, as if she were deliberately shielding my reputation.
"Hm..."
Baek-seo gave an awkward laugh and began winding a strand of her hair around her index finger in a slow circle.
Her eyes darted sideways.
It looked for all the world like she was deliberately performing awkwardness — but our kind, innocent Vice Leader would never do such a thing.
Before long, Baek-seo turned back to face me and Ye-song and asked, carefully:
"Am I... a little bit of a boomer?"
"No no no, there's no way you're a boomer, Baek-seo!"
Ye-song shook her head with frantic energy, reacting as if her life depended on it.
If Oh Baek-seo — the undisputed goddess and angel of Ahseong High School — were a boomer, then the word 'boomer' would have to replace 'saint' in the dictionary, minimum.
Whip! Ye-song whipped her head back toward me and nodded with a forced smile.
"Umm, it looks like the questions themselves were flawed! If the world ever called Baek-seo a boomer, that would just mean the world was wrong!"
That value system was, of course, entirely correct.
If anyone was wrong, it wasn't our Vice Leader — it was the world.
Ye-song slunk back to the sofa, deflated.
She looked exactly like a child who'd spotted a tantalizing new toy but wasn't allowed to play with it.
Soon, Ye-song lowered her head.
"I was arrogant... I'm sorry for trying to identify boomers with such lazy, narrow-minded thinking..."
"Hm? You don't need to apologize for that... I honestly don't understand why you're apologizing."
Baek-seo looked bewildered for a moment, then smiled benevolently and patted Ye-song's head.
Taking advantage of the opening, I cut in.
"So — the skirt?"
"I'll lengthen it..."
Ye-song retreated.
Good enough for me, then.
"By the way, how many questions were you planning to ask?"
Baek-seo asked Ye-song in a kindly tone.
"Like, twelve? You know what, forget it — I'm scrapping all of them... I've lost the mood. I'm just going to enjoy more of Baek-seo's hand-pets..."
Hmm.
Anyway, this whole thing —
'That ended anticlimactically.'
The crucial Q&A never actually happened.
'But...'
Ye-song had probably asked her questions in jest, but they had, quite unintentionally, handed me a weighty assignment.
This wasn't something that could be settled by merely preserving the face and dignity of the Disciplinary Committee Leader.
That much was only the bare minimum required of anyone who bore the responsibility of command.
How was I to lead the Disciplinary Committee going forward?
At every turn, how should I strike the balance between honesty and hypocrisy?
I needed to find that just-right middle ground...
"Leader, you're deep in thought?"
"Leader, are you thinking dirty thoughts?"
The dog and the angel forcibly dragged my mind back just as I was solemnly contemplating my proper conduct as Disciplinary Committee Leader.
......
"Three days ago, at around 12:49 in the afternoon, there was a hostage incident at Cafeteria No. 2."
The glow of sunset streamed through the window, casting the office in a soft amber light. I liked the mood of it, so I'd deliberately left the lights off.
Seated at my desk, I was listening to a briefing from the Disciplinary Committee's Vice Leader, Oh Baek-seo, on the incident. She stood in front of me, eyes on the documents, continuing her report.
Even as I listened, I kept stealing sidelong glances at Oh Baek-seo's hand holding the clipboard. The burn had healed enough for her to remove the bandages, but it still weighed on my mind.
"The perpetrator took the victim hostage and caused a disturbance against the Cafeteria Club. They even employed mana."
The Cafeteria Club was the organization responsible for the school's entire dining operation — planning balanced, age-appropriate meals for the students, cooking, serving portions.
It held a role of considerable importance.
I looked down at the perpetrator's personal information recorded in the report and clicked my tongue.
"Hostile action against the Cafeteria Club is tantamount to challenging the school itself. There is no room for leniency. Under the regulations, we punish them at the highest possible severity."
"Understood, I'll reflect that. But six hundred students have submitted a petition asking for the person to be declared innocent. Should we just ignore that?"
"Hm?"
What did she just say?
"A petition...? Six hundred people, in three days?"
Baek-seo nodded.
Attacking the Cafeteria Club was an act against the public good — an unforgivable, serious offense.
I could not for the life of me understand why six hundred students had rallied behind the perpetrator.
...Hold on.
"What was the perpetrator's motive?"
"Apparently they were dissatisfied that mint chocolate was on the meal plan. The mint chocolate served on the day of the incident was the trigger."
Hsss.
A breath I hadn't realized I was holding escaped me on its own.
"They also testified that, remembering mint chocolate appeared three separate times on this month's menu, they simply couldn't take it anymore."
"Three times...?"
"The Cafeteria Club's new dietitian insists on mint chocolate."
Impossible.
This was an outrage. It made no sense at all.
"Regardless, it's still a serious offense, so we'll punish them at maximum—"
"Vice Leader."
I narrowed my eyes, planted my arms on the desk, and looked at Baek-seo with utmost gravity.
For some reason, the moment Baek-seo met my gaze steadily, the corners of her mouth curled up into a wide smile.
"What is it, Leader?"
"By the authority of the Disciplinary Committee Leader, I command: reduce the severity of the punishment to the bare minimum possible."
"Huh?"
"It was a crime committed in the public interest. There's ample grounds for leniency."
After all, wasn't that person a hero who'd sacrificed their own body for the future of the school?
Still, they had broken the rules, so a stern punishment was unavoidable.
'Ghh...'
All I could do was seethe at my own helplessness — this much was all I could offer.
I'm sorry I'm such a meager, inadequate man, O hero...
"Hm... understood."
Baek-seo shrugged.
'Huh?'
She's just... going along with it?
Baek-seo filed the papers back into her clipboard with a gesture that said her reporting duties were complete, and hugged it to her chest.
"You're not going to ask why?"
"I'm the person who serves at your side more closely than anyone, aren't I? If it's your order, I follow it, reason or no. As for the mitigation — I'll handle the details myself."
"......"
Baek-seo was saying something extraordinarily weighty as casually as breathing.
I leaned back against my chair.
"Hmm..."
"What's wrong, Leader?"
I knew what was wrong.
'In the game, she was never this obedient.'
Baek-seo's role in the game had been a small one, granted — but it was unmistakably clear that she was not the type to follow a Disciplinary Committee Leader this faithfully.
These days I found myself paying more attention to Baek-seo than usual, and all sorts of thoughts kept surfacing because of it.
Which made me realize it all the more.
"Nothing. I'm just grateful."
Just how grateful a person Baek-seo was to me.
Perhaps my answer surprised her — she went quiet for a moment, then smiled warmly.
"Oh?"
Suddenly, Baek-seo leaned her upper body toward me.
A sly playfulness had surfaced on her face.
"If you're grateful for my loyalty, then how about a compliment?"
"Hm?"
Every now and then, Baek-seo would come at me like this — out of nowhere.
You could say she bided her time, waited for an opening, then seized the tail end of my words at an unpredictable moment and yanked hard.
"I feel like I need the occasional compliment to recharge my motivation, you know?"
Baek-seo laughed slyly and sent me a look brimming with expectation.
'This is... a bit much, isn't it?'
She'd taken my "I'm grateful" and transmuted it into grounds for demanding praise.
This was not something I could just brush off, apparently.
The first thing that sprang to mind was 'competent and beautiful.' Baek-seo was the kind of woman I'd have slotted into first place on the shortlist for my vacant bride-candidate position.
But dropping the word 'beautiful' on someone when we weren't even anything special to each other would only make them uncomfortable — and it risked making things awkward between us, too.
"Hm, then..."
Fine. From a colleague's perspective, then.
I decided to just shower her with a safe, unremarkable compliment.
"You're capable, strong, and diligent. You rank among the most complete people I've ever known. That's why you're someone I want to keep by my side going forward."
"...Really?"
"Really. You're someone I can always trust, too. Someone I can rely on."
"Mmm. And a head-pat, too?"
"Huh? No...? This hand was reaching to scratch my head."
Baek-seo straightened up, wearing her usual gentle smile.
But the corners of her mouth twitched intermittently. And her fingers, wrapped around the clipboard, seemed for some reason to have gone taut with tension.
"What a relief. If you'd gone that one step further, I don't think I could have held out."
"?"
Couldn't hold out?
Oh.
'Was that... really that cringe?'
It only became objective to me in hindsight.
I had just used some seriously cringe-worthy phrasing, hadn't I...
As I replayed my own words, my whole body wanted to curl up and shrivel.
The reason Baek-seo was clutching the clipboard so hard and trembling faintly was obviously her straining to hold back her reaction to the cringe.
Whip — Baek-seo turned her back, moved to the table, and gathered up her things.
Her movements seemed faster than usual.
"Leader, my work here is done, so I'll be off."
"Ah, right... Take care."
"See you tomorrow."
Baek-seo gave me one last smile and left the office.
Her walking pace was quicker than usual.
"...Aaah."
I set my hand against my forehead.
I wasn't oblivious. I had eyes.
The reason Baek-seo had fled instead of keeping the joke going was obvious enough: she'd been on the verge of showing how much the cringe had gotten to her.
'I should have wrapped it up at a clean "it's great having someone so competent"...'
I'd planned to give a safe, measured answer, and instead I'd gone and spoken with far too much sincerity.
Today, quite possibly, I had put a dent in the image of me that Baek-seo carried in her head.