The Muddy Water Offensive
Even if you called it a plan, there wasn’t much to it. High school boys are simple creatures no matter the generation or era. They weren’t about to come up with anything complicated. Their goal was straightforward: drive off the swarm of reporters gathered at the school gate. Since the objective was simple, so were the means. No matter how unhinged these high schoolers might be, they weren’t going to resort to outright violence against adults. The aim was simply to scatter the reporters. It was exam period, and the students, who had nothing better to do, were more than happy to join in on the rare bit of excitement.
“Hey, anyone got extra paint left?”
“I’ve got some in my locker.”
“Don’t need brown, right?”
“Just take it.”
Following the requests, some boys fetched paint from their lockers while others tore chunks off the modeling clay they used in art class. The whole group moved in perfect sync, like a single organism.
“Yo, go fill a bucket with water from the bathroom.”
One of the ringleaders pointed at a friend loitering nearby. I still couldn’t guess what they were trying to do, but something was definitely coming together.
“How much?”
“About half full?”
“Hey, while you’re at it, just rinse the mop in there too.”
Even the quieter kids reluctantly joined in with the mood. Under the ringleaders’ direction, murky water began to pool in the buckets. It was so filthy it looked almost like sewage. Floating lumps of clay and half-dissolved brown paint made the whole thing look downright disgusting. What on earth were they planning to do with that? Their sheer initiative sometimes left me speechless.
“Alright, let’s go~”
“Let’s get it!”
Two buckets, completed with that kind of energy. The ones carrying them out were the four who had pushed the plan the hardest. They wore wicked grins, as if they could already picture exactly what was about to happen in a few minutes.
In the end, we headed outside just like a normal PE class. The first part of the plan was for the entire class to approach the gate together, hoping to intimidate the reporters. Everyone in our class knew I was the reason the reporters had shown up. That’s why one of the boys holding a bucket rested a hand on my shoulder and spoke with clear madness in his eyes.
“You’re gonna be the bait.”
“What…?”
The word “bait” slipped out in a startled yelp. Since I was the reason the reporters were here in the first place, they’d naturally come straight for me. That would give the others the opening they needed to finish the job.
“You just have to stand in front.”
As our whole class moved closer to the gate, the reporters who had been arguing with the PE teacher started murmuring and craning their necks at our sudden appearance.
“What are you kids doing here?”
The PE teacher’s eyes widened at the sight of the entire third class. He looked genuinely puzzled.
“We have PE first period.”
“Then you should be studying on your own during exams…”
One of the ringleaders answered that it was PE. The teacher let out an exasperated sigh, complaining about why anyone would come outside during exam week. The reporters, who had been looking worn out from arguing with him, perked up the moment they saw me and thrust their cameras and microphones forward.
“When did you contract the illness?”
“Is it true you changed from male to female?”
As expected, they started inching closer, firing questions while hovering right at the edge of the gate. Then came the sound of sloshing water from behind.
Splash—!
“Aaaagh!”
“Kyaaah!”
Screams ripped through the air. In an instant, murky water of a distinctly un-refreshing color drenched the reporters’ clothes. The ringleaders who had thrown the buckets immediately bolted back inside the school at full speed, their escape as swift and decisive as their attack.
“Damn it!”
“What the hell!”
Male and female reporters alike were soaked in the filthy water. Their irritated voices overlapped. Maybe because their outfits were completely ruined, they backed away without putting up much of a fight. The reckless plan had worked perfectly.
The PE teacher stared after the retreating reporters in amazement.
“Whoa… You guys are something else.”
He let out a dry laugh, showered us with praise, then pulled out his wallet and handed over his card.
“Here, take my card. Class rep, go buy everyone an ice cream or something.”
A bright smile spread across the PE teacher’s face as he coolly offered the card. He must have been just as annoyed by the reporters who refused to leave the gate. Even though he couldn’t do anything himself as a teacher, he seemed secretly delighted that the students had done it for him.
“Yessss!”
Cheers erupted from the class at the mention of ice cream. Just like that, the reporter-repelling operation ended in resounding success.
“What happened?”
“Teacher’s buying ice cream.”
The ringleaders who had sprinted away at the speed of light came back and asked what was going on amid the excited chatter. Logically, they should have been scolded for the stunt. Instead, they were getting ice cream. They looked genuinely bewildered.
A little later, the class rep returned with a huge plastic bag stuffed with ice cream, and the atmosphere grew lively again. Some students finished their ice cream in seconds and headed for the soccer goalposts, while others lounged on the stands. I was sitting there chewing on a melon ice cream when the PE teacher, also munching on one, sat a step above me and spoke up.
“Who came up with that plan just now?”
He wanted to know who had masterminded the reporter-soaking operation. There was no reason to hide it, so I pointed at the group happily playing soccer in the distance.
“Over there. One of the guys who threw the water.”
“What exactly did you put in the buckets?”
He asked about the contents of the water that had been thrown at the reporters. He seemed curious about the source of that deep ocher color. Since I had watched the whole manufacturing process from the side, I recited exactly what I had seen.
“We mixed in brown paint, rinsed the mop in it… scooped dirt from the flowerbed, and tore up some clay and threw that in too.”
“Good grief. In my ten years of teaching, I’ve never seen kids as insane as those guys.”
“Pfft.”
After hearing the step-by-step recipe for the fake sewage, the PE teacher looked completely dumbfounded. He tilted his head to the side and muttered in disbelief. Remembering the reporters’ panicked faces from earlier, I voiced the concern that had been nagging at me.
“Won’t they make the guys who threw the water pay for their clothes?”
“They won’t.”
The teacher shook his head firmly. His answer was so decisive that I couldn’t help but ask again.
“How do you know?”
“I asked a friend who knows this kind of stuff. What they were doing was basically stalking. Harassing a minor like you is already a problem, and they even interfered with first-period PE, which counts as obstruction of business. If it went to court, they’d be the ones in trouble. The fact that they didn’t step inside the gate earlier is also because entering school grounds without permission would be legally problematic.”
“Ohhh…”
I let out an impressed sound at the practical legal explanation. The PE teacher really knew his stuff. Given how intimidating he looked, I’d assumed he wasn’t the type to think deeply about these things, but that stereotype about PE teachers was starting to crack.
“By the way, Hyunwoo.”
“Yes?”
The PE teacher suddenly called my name. When I looked up, wondering what he wanted, he wore an oddly apologetic expression.
“Would it be okay if I touched your tail just once? It’s not sexual harassment or anything. I’m just genuinely curious about what it feels like.”
He kept emphasizing that it wasn’t sexual harassment and that he was purely curious about the texture. I guess when a teacher asks a student for something like this, that’s the only way he can phrase it. Since he’d just bought us ice cream, turning him down now would be pretty cold.
“…Sure, go ahead.”
I turned halfway around so my back faced him, pulled my tail out from under the compression wrap, and let it hang down.
“You used to leave it out in the open before, didn’t you?”
Seeing the tail emerge from under my clothes, the PE teacher recalled a class from about a week ago and asked. I had left it hanging out freely until recently.
“These days I keep it inside my clothes. Mom gave me this wrap because she said it’d be bad if it got caught or pinched somewhere.”
“Ah, I see.”
After I explained why I was hiding it, he nodded briefly and lowered his head slightly. Then his calloused hand carefully touched my tail. His eyes widened almost immediately.
“Whoa.”
A genuinely impressed sound escaped him. As if he’d never felt anything like it before, he gently brushed the surface of my tail with the back of his hand.
“Man, it really is soft.”
“It sheds a lot, though.”
I added the inconvenient part that came with it. Only someone who actually had the tail would understand the hassle. While we chatted about this and that, first period ended and it was time to head back to the classroom. Originally, today’s PE was supposed to be self-study, but after seeing us do outdoor activities, the other classes had apparently followed suit.
Just like that, a week passed. It was now April 30th, the end of the month. I walked into the classroom holding my phone without a care in the world. Seokjun raised an eyebrow at the sight of me openly carrying it.
“What, you didn’t turn yours in either?”
“Heh heh.”
I let out a smug little huff at his question, the corner of my mouth curling up. My phone sat proudly on the desk, radiating confidence.
“Don’t tell me… you actually got permission?”
Seokjun quickly caught on and asked with a frown, putting his guess into words.
“Heh heh heh.”
Instead of answering, I let out a sly chuckle. He was right. From now on, I could use my phone at school without any restrictions!