Coming Out
It lasted only a moment, but I felt it in my gut.
I had just touched a nerve.
What was that? Had I put my foot in my mouth somehow?
I quickly replayed everything I'd just said, but nothing jumped out as a mistake. Which meant the compliment I'd tossed out without thinking was what had gotten to her.
"Senpai."
"Is something the matter?"
Lee Sae-ah asked as if nothing had happened at all, her tone perfectly even.
"If I said something I shouldn't have, I apologize."
"……"
She looked at me without the slightest change in expression.
The silence stretched. A strange tension settled over the table.
"…You have good instincts, Junior. Most people never notice. I'm glad — that should prove quite useful in your future duties."
To my surprise, she praised me.
On the surface, it was an ordinary compliment. But something about it felt like a desperate scramble to bury the subject and move on.
She popped a sausage into her mouth and chewed. I did the same.
Silence again.
But this silence was different from the last. The air between us had gone heavy, as if someone had drawn a line down the middle of the table.
"I simply recalled a rather unpleasant memory, that's all."
"……"
"Everyone has a bad memory or two."
"That's true."
"So there's no need for you to concern yourself, Junior."
I don't have a superpower that lets me read people's hearts. I didn't need one. Lee Sae-ah did not want to continue this conversation.
I respected that. I opened the textbook I'd brought and went back to eating.
Eyes on the page, food in my mouth. On any other day the two would have flowed together as naturally as water.
Not today. The words on the page refused to sink in.
Curiosity. Curiosity about her kept pulling my focus apart. Why had she gotten so defensive? The question wouldn't leave me alone, and I couldn't lock onto a single line of text.
...Focus.
I ignored it. I clenched my jaw and turned my back on that curiosity.
Because I knew. Simple curiosity can be a kind of violence.
Asking her now would be no different from prying open a wound she was trying to keep closed. It would mean dragging back up a memory she was working so hard to leave buried.
She and I were similar enough that I understood. She did not want me inside her world.
And because I understood that, I didn't force my way closer. I had no desire to trespass on her world uninvited.
I don't know how much time passed after that.
"If you'll excuse me."
Lee Sae-ah finished eating first. She gave a small nod and left her seat.
"Senpai."
"Yes?"
"You left your cardigan."
I pointed to the cardigan draped over the back of her chair.
"Ahem. Thank you."
She cleared her throat softly, came back, collected the cardigan, and started walking again.
"Senpai."
"What is it this time?"
"You left your phone."
She froze. Then she lurched back toward the table like a wind-up doll whose spring had slipped, joints hitching with every step.
"…Thank you."
Quieter than usual. Barely more than a mutter.
Watching her, I let out a short laugh.
"You're more of a scatterbrain than I thought."
"B-be quiet."
Her blank expression cracked. A faint flush crept into Lee Sae-ah's face.
I need money.
The thought grew heavier the more time passed, settling deeper into my head with every day.
For now, thanks to my father, I hadn't been thrown out of the house… Well. Calling "not kicking me out" a kindness was a little strange, but still.
Anyway. Nothing in this world lasts forever. His consideration would run out eventually.
Yesterday was supposed to be the day my allowance came in.
I checked my account. Nothing. So even the allowance had been cut off.
It was time to start looking for work.
I didn't need to work myself to death the way I had in my previous life. I was broke, not drowning in debt. I just needed enough to keep myself and Hayang-i fed.
Hayang-i, for the record, was the name I'd given the kitten I'd taken in.
Hayang-i? What kind of name is that! You should've given it something more special. That's so lazy!
Alice's indignant face, mid-meltdown over the name, flickered across my mind.
But what was I supposed to do? It had already stuck. Besides, a pet's name is supposed to be a little rough around the edges. That's how they live long. At least, that was the idea back in Korea.
Anyway.
A regular part-time gig or a labor job didn't appeal to me. Not because I was afraid of hard work. I just didn't like the idea of having to trade feelings with people as part of the job. And more than that, it was inefficient.
I wouldn't be able to use my actual strengths.
My strengths were a brain sharper than most and a supernatural ability. A good body was a plus, sure, but it ranked well behind the contents of my skull.
So what kind of work leaned on the brain?
Tutoring? I'd done it in my previous life. But arguing with students was a pain, and waiting around for someone to grasp a single concept felt like a waste of time.
A job that used my head. One that didn't require me to deal with people for long stretches.
"Nothing beats being a writer, does it?"
For me, at least, writing had been a solid option. The return on time invested had been decent, and in my previous life it had gone a long way toward paying off my debts.
But I couldn't afford to jump to conclusions. This was Japan, not Korea. Even neighboring countries had different cultures, different markets. I couldn't assume my old experience would transfer cleanly.
"I should look into this."
Half-sitting on the edge of my bed, I started researching the Japanese web novel market. The structure was familiar: you posted your work for free on one of the major sites, and if the view counts were high enough, a publisher would reach out and pick it up as a light novel or a manga.
Doable.
I'd already done this once. Starting over wouldn't be that daunting. It seemed worth taking seriously.
I was just about settling on that when a banner ad on the side of the page caught my eye.
An ad for a livestreaming platform.
Livestreaming, huh. I'd considered it in my previous life too. But the equipment hadn't been cheap, and the thought of having to perform reactions at an audience for hours on end had killed the idea before it went anywhere.
I wonder how it is in Japan.
No harm in looking. I clicked the banner and landed on the site.
A loading screen packed with cutesy characters flickered past, and then I was looking at a grid of live broadcasts. I had no idea where to start, so I clicked a stream that already had a decent audience.
A moment later, a bright, high-energy voice spilled out of the speakers.
"Ah! Got 'em! See? I told you this game is easy."
In the bottom-right corner of the screen, a black-haired female character bounced around. Watching the model's mouth move in time with the streamer's voice was strangely fascinating.
"Okay, seriously, I was just messing around. I normally eat this tier for breakfast."
"Yes, yes, quiet down. Next game is a promotion match, so sit tight and watch. And whoever put up that mission — get your wallet ready."
After watching for a bit, I concluded it wasn't all that different from Korean streaming. You run content. You react to chat and donations and turn it into laughs.
For someone who liked talking to people and being the center of attention, it was a job worth considering.
Not for me.
This job was my natural predator. If I tried to make a living at it, I wouldn't last a year.
Right. Educational, at least.
I was about to close the stream when the character on screen dropped dead in the most pathetic way possible. The defeat screen popped up.
And then—
A thick, raw curse I hadn't heard in a long time.
I tilted my head without meaning to.
The pronunciation was too natural, too native — the kind of Korean a Japanese person would struggle to fake. And the voice itself was nothing like the bright, bubbly one from a moment ago. It was lower. Familiar.
"……"
A single face surfaced in my mind.
The next day, lunch period. I took my lunchbox and headed for the student council room.
I knocked three times.
"You may come in."
I stepped inside. As expected, Lee Sae-ah was in the middle of lunch.
"Bread today, not a lunchbox?"
"This sort of thing isn't so bad now and then. A change of pace."
She took a sip of canned coffee.
I watched her for a moment, then sat down. The seat had become mine without either of us saying so. Not too far. Not too close. Just that distance.
I opened my lunchbox. The usual spread greeted me, same as always.
I took a sip of water, opened my textbook, and after a small pause, spoke.
"Senpai."
"Go ahead."
"Are you interested in livestreaming, by any chance?"
I glanced at her. On the surface, nothing looked out of place. She was sipping her canned coffee with the same unreadable expression as always.
But I saw it.
"……"
Her eyes. The tips of her fingers. Trembling, as if the ground itself had begun to shake.