10 - The Executioner's Knot
Am I a man or a woman? It was a question I'd wrestled with even in my past life. Human perception is such a strange thing. If a man dies and reincarnates as a woman, he'd still see himself as male. But if a woman realizes she was a man in her previous life, she'd continue identifying as female. It's all about perspective. It would've been simpler if it divided so neatly, but memories don't split that cleanly. The self is incomplete and ambiguous—sometimes claiming the past life as its own, other times treating it like a stranger. That's because even if the memories linger, the brain handling those philosophical thoughts is entirely different, down to the neurons.
Some past-life values still influenced me, while others I simply couldn't grasp. For instance, viewing slavery as a human rights violation was the former; wallowing in defeatist thinking and hating the whole world was the latter. But gender was the most nebulous of all. I could accept my biological sex as female, yet my social gender? I always held that in suspension. And right now wasn't the time for such comfortable rumination anyway.
I definitely didn't like men. Hiasen Luminous Kaizen III, the empire's third prince and reputed most handsome man, had a god-sculpted face, yet seeing it up close stirred nothing in me. A twinge of jealousy, maybe? Nor had I ever really liked women. Thinking of those troublemakers just gave me a headache. If you're wondering why I kept challenging this unanswerable question, it was all because of Arin.
Again, you, Arin?
"Isn't your skirt too short?"
"It already goes down to my knees? Unnie Bo-young says even half this length is fine."
At least when it came to clothing values, I was confident I followed a man's. "I prefer pants."
"Nami looks prettier in a skirt! The other kids'll think it's weird if a girl wears the uniform pants."
By high school entrance exams, most girls would wear pants anyway. But these elementary kids clung to stricter social norms. August 15th—unfortunately, in this world's Korea, Liberation Day fell on Sunday the 14th, so we had school on Monday. Wonder where they sold off the substitute holiday.
The nuns had handled all the enrollment, so I had nothing left to do. Arrive at school, head straight to the office, meet the homeroom teacher, and enter the class together. Arin chattered away about our classmates as we walked under the scorching summer sun, refusing to yield. Who liked what, who hated what—she knew it all. So enthusiastic.
The commute really was long and grueling. Now I understood Arin's monstrous stamina. Trekking this path daily would make anyone healthy. Cursing the school perched atop the hill under my breath, I conquered the uphill climb.
"Hello, security ajusshi!"
"Hey, good morning!"
Arin bowed at a perfect ninety degrees, and the guard replied with a grin. We crossed the wide playground, climbed the central stairs to the second-floor first-grade office. Three polite knocks, and the door opened.
"Arin, hi!"
"Hello!"
"Oh, Arin? How was your break?"
"Yes! It was great!"
Surprisingly sociable, unlike my expectations. Turns out Baek Arin was like the office idol. Teachers vied to stuff her with extra cookies, cooing over how cute she was. Quick greetings exchanged, then the presumed homeroom teacher stood.
"The friend next to Arin is Nami?"
"Yes, that's right!"
Arin raised our interlocked hands. The teacher approached, offering a handshake.
"Hi, Nami. I'm Ha Seon-hwa, your first-grade Class 8 homeroom teacher starting today."
I released Arin's hand to shake hers.
"Nami's super pretty, right?"
"She is. But she seems shy since it's her first time at school, so Arin, could you bring her to class? I'll head there too."
"Sure!"
Ha Seon-hwa led, we followed. A sharp turn revealed signs for first-grade classrooms.
"This is Class 8. It's a bit far from the gate, so don't get lost."
Even from the hall, the kids' noisy chatter spilled out. Amid it, Arin closed her eyes for a deep breath.
"Hi, everyone! Good break?"
"Hello!"
"We have a new student in Class 8 today, so take your seats for introductions?"
Young as she was, Ha Seon-hwa handled the kids effortlessly. They sat in perfect order.
"Everyone seated? Student, introduce yourself?"
Arin cheered from the back row. Standing before elementary kids, why was I trembling? I planned a quick name-drop and sit, but my mouth wouldn't open.
"...?"
Forcing it, my heart raced, cold sweat beaded. Suddenly, the children's faces overlaid with monsters lunging to devour me.
[Witch]
[Demon King's Seed]
[Cursed One]
[Die]
[Die]
[Why are you still alive?]
My breath quickened. Then Ha Seon-hwa's hand on my shoulder snapped the scene back to the classroom.
"Our friend is new to school and overwhelmed. May I introduce her instead?"
Nice handoff. Professional.
"Her name's No Nami. She missed first semester due to illness, so class, take good care of her, okay? Arin's her best friend, so ask her if you want to know more about Nami. Nami, sit next to Arin in the back?"
Arin watched with worried eyes. I hadn't expected this. I'd thought chatting with her had cured my mutism, but no such luck. Morning homeroom dragged on. First time experiencing public elementary education—kinda novel. Roll call, break stories, collecting homework, distributing textbooks, previewing the semester. It ran into first period.
Break bell rang; kids finally relaxed, clustering for chatter. Most glanced our way mid-conversation. Stealthy for them, obvious for first-graders. One approached.
"Your name's No Nami?"
Silence from me; Arin affirmed.
"Uh, yeah... right."
"She from Merlin Orphanage too?"
"Well... uh... n-no...?"
"Yeah."
Not to the boy—to Arin. She didn't want my origins revealed. The kid returned to his group.
"Nami, why'd you say that?"
"What."
"Kids... don't like Merlin kids."
"Let 'em dislike."
"Huh?"
Kids this age wouldn't get it, but forcing haters to like you is pointless. Some avoid orphanage kids out of fear of association; others just follow the crowd. School dominates social life, so no friends hurts, but relationships are give-and-take. Fun, cute, athletic—whatever. To fit in, show Arin's charm overshadows any orphanage stigma. I whispered in her ear.
"They'll regret not becoming our friends later."
Elementary classes were mostly boring. Novel at first, torture repeating known facts. Chanting 81, 82 to memorize numbers, copying the teacher's words—yawn.
"Nami, done already?!"
Math teacher absent; we wrote runes 51-100. Kids pored over textbooks, copying diligently. Arin gawked at my full A4 sheet.
She ramped up, competitive. I'd misjudged—Arin was smart. Some kids couldn't do 30; she nailed 80 without mix-ups. Her drive and grit shone in studies.
"Arin, all right but missed the dot on 79."
"Huh? Inspected already? How so fast?"
She dotted it hastily. Better when she gave the encyclopedia. Bored, I scanned textbook backs—elementary curriculum's finite. A week of study, nothing new.
Gazing out the window, the boy in front turned.
"Can you check mine?"
Envious of Arin's review? I skimmed, tapped three errors with eraser end.
"Thanks!"
Runes mixed ancient base-60 and modern base-16, confusing kids. 78: parallel 60+10+8. Slip-ups common. Taught rote, no math principles.
"Wanna be smart like Nami..."
Arin's pouts grew cuter daily. Puffed cheeks evoked hamsters; I poked, air whooshed out.
"You're smart enough, Arin."
"Not like you."
"Then I'll show you something fun."
Curious kids love previews. I sketched on A4 back.
"Whatcha drawing? Magic circle?"
"Not magic circle. Transmutation Circle."
Unlike direct-spell magic circles, these aided activation. Complex patterns crisscrossed from pencil tip—over two minutes even rushed.
"Hidden picture hunt. Ten numbers 1-100 in runes. Find 'em?"
"Got it!"
She spotted easy '1' first, struggled three minutes, nailed her known letters. Sharp eyes.
"Done!"
"Connect low to high."
"Lemme see... 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21... 34, 55, 89. Whoa, a star! So cool!"
"See this."
I laid pencil horizontal over four in line.
"All have long right vertical dots?"
"Oh yeah!"
Rotated 36 degrees to another.
"These have bottom-left round dots."
"Wow, can I try?"
"Go."
Arin found commonalities eagerly. 'Arabesque Transmutation Formula.' Math's Fibonacci—easy—but magic's advanced. Runes aren't social conventions like alphabets or hanja. Simplified mana flows and laws, etched spells with disruptive potential. Variants A/B/Omega by simplifier, but universal A-type easiest. All satisfied this formula. E.g., 1/13/2/3 invoke earth morphemes. Earth magic amps best at multiples: 2x, 3x, 13x. Too advanced for Arin; realizing runes weren't random sufficed.
"Whoa, kids these days are fast. Someone doodled a transmutation formula."
"That your class homework, Ha-teacher? Sigh, afternoon mess, so I fobbed it off. If not using back, toss it."
"Feels familiar... what was it? Rings a bell... nah."
Kang Cheol-min scratched his head, sipping tea.
"From the sixth-graders' transmutation contest?"
"Nah, way earlier. Hmm... maybe from criminal execution law during my law school prep..."