252 - The Confession Letter
“If I’d known it’d end up like this anyway, I should’ve just told Professor Cheon back then that I’d delete it.”
In the lonely, quiet room where I was alone, I activated the hologram projector and summoned Adella to keep me company. Summoned in a slightly smaller size, Adella rolled around on the bed before burrowing into the covers.
“That’s what you two fought about, right? Why’d you even leave such a nice house? It’s not like you can avoid him forever.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Looking back now, maybe I should’ve swallowed my pride.”
“What was your original plan, sis?”
Until now, I’d only planned for how Walpurgis might respond.
“If they uploaded a video threatening retaliation, I’d have to drop out of the academy and go into hiding for a while.”
In that case, their goal wouldn’t be me specifically, but spreading their ideology. That would put not just me, but all my acquaintances at risk. I’d have to cut off all human contact to ensure their safety.
“So what now?”
“Since they haven’t retracted their initial stance on the apology video, they’re probably hiding some other agenda. Whether the target is me or you, Adella.”
“Those sleazy bastards.”
“People like that are total wimps when you confront them face-to-face. They hide their weakness behind their god.”
“But it could be real, you know.”
“Sure, they might not want to pick a fight with Korea... but even optimistic speculation doesn’t help much right now.”
News snippets showed low-level members grumbling in interviews, so the organization hadn’t unified its stance yet. In times like this, I could just blend into the crowd and live a normal life. A terror attack was a terror attack, even if small-scale—especially a failed one, which could rot the whole group from within. Pressure on Walpurgis was ramping up worldwide.
But I never imagined the video would come down this fast. American hatred for Walpurgis was sky-high right now.
Did I view modern people through too medieval a lens of factionalism?
V-Tube prioritizing crackdowns on anti-Islam hate speech over outrage at terrorists was unexpected. But I wasn’t alone—protests flooded V-Tube HQ with emails, and the #SaveNoName hashtag amplified outrage across social media.
Before public opinion veered weirder, I posted an apology on the community board, admitting my statement was reckless, and wrapped it up. Three days was short, but view counts meant Walpurgis had surely seen it. Mission accomplished, so tomorrow I’d sincerely apologize to Professor Cheon.
“Huh? What’s this?”
“Oh, that? I swung by the classroom earlier this evening and found it stuck in my shoe locker, so I grabbed it.”
A small envelope by the bedside lamp. A big pink heart sticker from a stationery store plastered the center.
Adella’s hologram hand, unable to interact with the real world, swished past the letter excitedly.
“Th-this... no way! A confession letter!”
“Yeah, pretty much...”
“Puhahaha! Someone confessed to you, sis? Kyahahaha!”
“Don’t crush a kid’s innocent heart, okay?”
“Show me the contents already, I’m dying here! Wow, they’ve got guts confessing to a scary sis like you! Who wrote it?”
“No idea. No name.”
“Huh? On a confession letter? For real?”
* * *
“So who is it... who?! Come out already!”
The next morning, Seo Yu-na darted around the classroom, hunting the culprit.
“Culprit? They didn’t do anything wrong.”
“NoName, you stay put! This is serious!”
“What’s up? Lemme see too.”
With Yu-na glaring, Han Se-ri chimed in, demanding to see the letter out of curiosity.
“Gasp...!”
To. NoName
Hello, NoName.
This is my first time writing a letter, so forgive the messy handwriting.
Truth is, I liked you the moment I first saw you. Because you’re so pretty, cute, and kind-looking. Plus, you’re the top student in class, and I fell for how nicely you help friends study for exams.
So I wanted to tell you how I feel. I really like you a lot.
You’re super famous with tons of fans, but I don’t like you just because you’re on TV. So, wanna go out with me?
Give me your answer after school.
From.
No sender name. No erasure marks—just omitted from the start. The handwriting got messier toward the end, probably from nerves. Or maybe a prank. If there’d been a name, I’d have kept it private for the kid’s sake, but since there wasn’t...
Why share? It was funny.
“Doesn’t seem like a prank.”
“Why?”
The kids all turned to Detective Se-ri’s deduction.
“This heart sticker? It’s an expensive idol one from department stores or online.”
I hadn’t even thought that far—kids could be sharp.
“One of our class boys? Could be another class.”
“Nah, look. It says they fell for you helping with exam study. Has to be our class.”
“Whoa, Han Se-ri, you’re a genius!”
“Ahem! So the culprit’s among us!”
Easy deduction. If not a prank, my position got awkward. No matter how my mental age synced with my body, life experience weighed different. Even middle or high schoolers seemed baby-cute; second-year elementary kids? Newborns to me.
“What’s your type, NoName?”
“Any boys in class you like?”
Even usually quiet friends joined the interrogation. Romance was catnip for girls. Seizing the chance, I gave future-proof advice.
“Someone who listens to the teacher, studies well, and is athletic.”
“How well at studying?”
“Why ask, Hangeol? Did you write it?”
“No way! NoName’s top of the school—if you like someone better than you, that means no one qualifies!”
“Oh, true?”
“Better than me’s fine.”
Meanwhile, Seo Yu-na and Han Se-ri scanned reactions with shifty eyes.
“What else? Any other types, NoName?”
Nuri and Sebin, now ignoring the letter, just wanted my thoughts.
“Strong guys too.”
Couldn’t say “good at fighting,” so I skirted it. Not ideal educationally or emotionally for this age.
“NoName’s weak, so she wants a guy to protect her!”
“Whoa, like a princess!”
“What? I’m the strongest in the academy. Don’t even joke I’m weak.”
“Kyaa, NoName’s so cute!”
Taller kids poked my chin. If you’re happy, mission accomplished.
Half-resigned to the jamminis’ prodding, I spotted our latest arrival: #21 Hong Jun, 138cm tall like upperclassmen, biggest build in class, ace from last semester’s sports day. Aura control was uniform at kid level, so raw strength scaled with aura-boosted power.
“Morning, Jun. Drop your bag and sit here a sec?”
“Me?”
“Arm wrestle.”
“...?”
Hong Jun tilted his head like he misheard.
“Handicap? You could win with a pinky, NoName.”
“Jun, real men don’t say what they can’t back up.”
“Arm wrestling? Hong Jun can’t lose.”
“No way! NoName can win!”
Han Se-ri bounced in support.
“I told you! She beat those bad older boys at the playground alone!”
She’d held that grudge half a year. For Se-ri’s sake, I had to win.
I planted my forearm flat on the desk, clenched fist—pinky shyly extended.
“Hong Jun, grab.”
“Uh...?”
“Grab it. Can’t you see?”
“Why you giving handicap?”
“I’m stronger.”
Casually insistent, he grabbed reluctantly.
“Booo!”
Boys jeered. Hong Jun whispered worriedly.
“NoName, go easy?”
“Easy? Full power’s barely enough. That makes you a man?”
“Fine, for real then...!”
Kids hated pride pricks, young or not.
“Three, two, one!”
Referee Se-ri counted down.
No need for external aura against kids. Unlike Korea U’s Ban So-wol, trained pros—elementary foes fell to my breathing aura.
“Why isn’t it budging?”
“Ugh, Hong Jun, don’t go easy! It’s obvious!”
“No, it’s... not moving—!”
His eyes finally shook side-to-side.
Why I slaved over magic and swordplay in my past life. Why these kids were my life companions. Maybe I was addicted to raw emotions like this.
Not thrilling against a kid, but imagine adults: Korea U’s Shin Yeon-ho? Professor Cheon Kyujin or Principal Gu On-yu? Some Walpurgis exec?
Any would thrill me.
Bam!
“Agh!”
Hong Jun yelped; match ended anticlimactically. I cooled his flushed hand with chill aura.
Kids murmured in disbelief.
“Did he really try?”
“It’s fine. Normal to doubt without experiencing. You can’t know till it happens.”
I never dreamed I’d die and reincarnate twice. Experience matters.
Academy tournament soon. Time to heed Principal Gu On-yu’s personal request.
“What’re you waiting for? Next up, sit.”
* * *
“Hello, NoName’s dad!”
“Hello. You’re NoName’s homeroom teacher, right? Thanks for all you do.”
“Not at all! NoName’s so sharp, she helps me with class overall. A-Class is this way, sir.”
Before first period, diligent parents trickled in. Professor Cheon Kyujin arrived earliest—too early, Principal Gu On-yu greeted him personally. After pacing the office, Jacqueline Carol guided him to second-year A-Class.
Second visit since parent-teacher conferences. NoName getting a confession gnawed at him.
More than her not coming home, an unknown boy confessing infuriated him. He’d come to see her as his own daughter. Any creepy guys nearby? He’d deal with them.
“Second-year A-Class! First period soon—textbooks out, seats please! You kids there, what’re you doing?”
Jackie Teacher entered the front as Professor Cheon slipped in the back.
“...!”
The NoName he’d longed for sat demurely center-class, surrounded by every boy, basking in cheers and applause.
Which one’s the culprit?