Where's That Slut Smell Coming From? (1)
"I'm home..."
It felt a little cringey, but it was just a habit by now.
An empty house.
I'd said the same greeting back in my old Korea without fail, so even after coming to this world it had stuck as second nature.
Of course, no one was there to welcome me.
By the time I finished the school day and got home it was roughly five-thirty. I'd tidy my clothes, start dinner prep, and Han Seyeon would clock out from work.
It had only been a week, but the routine was already settling in.
The time I had left was clearly running short, yet it never quite felt urgent.
There were three women with Important Souls in total—at least if I only counted the ones immediately around me. The points I harvested from their quieter emotional currents turned out to be more plentiful than expected. So when the day finally came to cash them in, I figured I'd have a solid pile waiting.
That was secondary, though.
I started on the housework.
Friday after school. Relatively free day or not, housework never really ended. I finished the cleaning I hadn't gotten to that morning, pulled out the side dishes, and was just about to start cooking when Han Seyeon walked in.
"...Welcome back."
"I'm home."
I faced her still wearing the apron. It had only been a few days of this, yet her reaction never changed. Did she have some kind of apron fetish?
While I checked the seasoning on the soup I felt her gaze on me. The moment I looked up she would glance away.
"I'll wash up first."
"Okay."
Still, it was a relief that things had improved this much. She still struggled to meet my eyes, but sometimes she would sneak glances, and if she had something to say she didn't hold it back as much. Occasionally she would dig herself into a weird conversational hole; I just gave those time to resolve themselves.
After that it was always more or less the same.
Even if Han Seyeon's soul was Important, she was still family, so crossing lines carelessly was hard. Especially since she had a whole defensive mechanism built around avoidance. If I pushed too far and she walked out of the house, it could become a real problem. I had to keep her close and move extremely slowly.
We ate together. Each of us did our own things. We rested, and around ten we laid out the blankets and lay down. That didn't mean we fell asleep right away—usually we just stared at our phones.
Data wasn't unlimited, and the house didn't even have Wi-Fi, so I didn't really have a phone hobby.
"...What are you doing?"
"Texting."
Today, though, my phone kept buzzing more than usual.
Even over text she trailed off, huh.
Anyway—maybe the thought of not seeing me for two whole days had made her lonely. Jeong Ayeong's messages started rolling in one after another. Nothing particularly substantial. Dull stuff that could easily be called boring. But I knew every single one of them was her trying her best to keep the conversation going with me, so it was hard to ignore.
I had a pretty good idea what she was trying to say. Under the blanket my clothes had been plastered wet against my skin—pretty lewd by most standards. My eyes didn't see anything wrong with it, but by the original Han Sein's common sense it definitely counted as suggestive. Guilt must have flared up, because Jeong Ayeong never brought the incident up again. Fair enough—she wasn't even my girlfriend. She had no right to comment on someone else's outfit.
I was still staring at my phone when a chilling voice came from right beside me.
"A friend…?"
"Ah, yeah. Same class."
Jesus. Nearly gave me a heart attack. For a second I thought I'd walked into a horror movie.
She hadn't outright stared at my phone or said anything openly uncomfortable. But atmosphere was a real thing, and so was instinct. Han Seyeon's voice sounded the same as always, yet it carried something a little colder. That seemed to be the case—her carefully worded questions were clearly circling around the real point.
"You said it was co-ed…?"
"Yeah. She's a girl."
"...Is that so?"
"Why?"
"No reason."
The sudden shift was jarring. Normally Han Seyeon was cautious and almost cowardly about conversation topics, always reading the room. Right now she was pushing forward like she was staking a claim. Still talking in circles, sure, but from my end it was plenty startling.
A cold silence settled. The lights were off, so it was dark. I couldn't even bring myself to turn toward her, yet the emotion seeping over from her side felt bleak. Inside the quiet, a blade was being sharpened. Calling it a blade was a stretch—more precisely, a tiny sound. Teeth grinding.
In the end, I was the one who couldn't take the silence anymore. I slowly raised my hand and turned the phone back on.
Jeong Ayeong — 16 unread messages
"……."
Hadn't even been five minutes? In that short span Jeong Ayeong had already flooded me with texts.
We'll see each other at school in a couple days, you idiot.
Still, I couldn't just leave her on read, so I slowly opened the message window.
What even was this…?
Still empty of real content, just a lot of messages—but I could see Jeong Ayeong doing her timid best, so I read every one. Leaving her hanging wasn't an option either. Five minutes of unread and she did this? Felt a little much, but I started typing anyway.
The little "1" vanished instantly. She'd read it. Wait… had she been staring at her phone waiting for me to type?
The moment I sent that last sticker, Han Seyeon's voice reached me.
"Good night."
"...You too, Noona. Good night."
A greeting I'd already grown used to. Yet the atmosphere felt a little off from usual. I hadn't even turned the phone off yet—I was still holding it. And she chose now to say good night? It almost felt like a protest, though that was probably just me overthinking it. Still, the situation would clearly flow the way she wanted. I was planning to sleep anyway.
Jeong Ayeong kept sending a few more texts afterward; I could feel the faint buzzing. I switched to silent, then closed my eyes. Nothing else to do, and even though tomorrow was Saturday, Han Seyeon still had work. Being considerate was the right call.
About five minutes later, sleep came faster than expected.
The weekend passed without incident. I just stayed cooped up at home reading books, chatting with the hologram, browsing the shop window—killing time however I could.
Then Monday came and went, and by the time Tuesday rolled around, the pressure closing in on me grew even heavier.
Creak.
The classroom door opened. The class I should have been getting used to only felt more alien. You could say, It's only been a week, what's there to get used to? But even compared to a week ago, the atmosphere was on a completely different level.
The girls' eyes on me held desire. The boys' eyes on me held disgust.
Had some weird rumor spread? There was definitely a cause-and-effect from my own actions, but the sudden shift in gazes wasn't exactly welcome.
Just then, the group of guys who'd been trying to get friendly with me started filing out of the classroom. Headed for the bathroom, maybe. As they left, their mouths opened—and they said something that, even without a subject, would land uncomfortably on someone's ears.
"Ugh, smells like a slut in here."
"Let's get out already. Need some fresh air."
"……."
Obviously there was no smell in the classroom at all. I knew instinctively who the words were aimed at.
So it was that day after all? The day I'd gotten soaked in milk, forced into a water rinse, and ended up in a thin short-sleeve with only a blanket over me.
Surprisingly, I felt nothing. Or more accurately—bewildered? Any normal guy would have been furious at something that crude. But maybe because I'd come from a reversed world, the whole thing just felt awkward enough that it barely registered.
I set my bag down at my desk, and someone spoke up. Hyeonsu—the one who'd split off from that group.
"Han Sein. You… go to the 4th Floor Science Room."
"Got it."
I already had a rough idea where that was. Currently under construction, so students never went there. More precisely, teachers had issued orders not to go up, and it was off-limits. And that place was Kim Hyeongmin's hideout.
Seeing only a bag at the seat next to mine, it looked like Jeong Ayeong had already been summoned. I let out a sigh and stood. Then I started walking.
From the first floor to the second. From the second to the third. And just as I was about to climb from the third to the fourth, a woman's voice drifted over.
"Ha, fuck. I wanna rail Han Sein so goddamn bad."
"Idiot, you're not even in the same class."
"You never know. Maybe he'll put out for me too."
The sound of hands slapping together. Not quite applause—more like that lewd little clap people used with sexual meaning.