The Aesthetics of Waiting in the Erotic Game
It had already been twenty minutes since every class at the Future Talent Academy had ended.
Tick. Tock.
The clock on the classroom wall kept dutifully doing its job, completely oblivious to the mood. And the faster those hands seemed to move, the thinner the students’ patience stretched.
··· The calm before the storm.
Like a balloon ready to burst at the slightest prick.
The atmosphere in the classroom was nothing short of vicious.
“··· Class president.”
Someone exhausted from waiting finally spoke to the Acting Class President who had been hastily appointed at the start of the semester.
“··· When is the homeroom teacher getting here?”
The voice was thick with suppressed irritation and rage. The innocent lamb who had been dragged to the lectern was visibly shaking.
“U-um, everyone… The teacher said they’d finish organizing the club application forms quickly and then—”
“So when is that, exactly?!”
“W-well… that’s…”
The Acting Class President couldn’t bring himself to speak. If he carelessly uttered “Maybe five more minutes…?” again and the homeroom teacher still didn’t show, this time he would really—really—be hoisted onto the lectern and hung somewhere by the furious mob. The looming crisis kept his mouth shut.
“U-um… uh, well.”
That was why the Acting Class President kept stuttering, cold sweat pouring down his face. How on earth could he get out of this situation? If anyone’s watching, please give me the answer… He thought it, but no reply came. After all, the homeroom teacher didn’t particularly value the Acting Class President’s life.
It was exactly as the title suggested—an interim role. Nothing more than a temporary position until they elected a proper class president. If someone collapsed under the weight of such a worthless post, they could simply appoint another. The students, unaware of that sinister calculation, were foolishly directing all their violent threats solely at the Acting Class President.
No one even considered stepping out of the classroom to fetch a teacher from the staff room. It was a perfectly ordinary classroom.
While observing my friends’ behavior, I eventually shifted my gaze toward the hallway window. Beyond it, people with their own agendas were still pacing around, waiting for our class’s homeroom to finish.
It was truly incomprehensible. They must have completed the academy’s schedule just like us. Some had finished early enough to come wait in another class, while others remained trapped inside, anxiously biting their nails under the weight of curious stares. Could this really happen at the Future Talent Academy, which supposedly prized equality? This was blatant discrimination!
My anger flared so intensely that I nearly shot up from my seat, ready to declare that we should strike the neck of the despicable Acting Class President who was toying with us from the lectern. But then—
‘Hajun!!’
I spotted A-yeong beyond the window. She had arrived, noticed me, and was waving. My composure returned at once.
‘A-yeong, I’m sorry. Our homeroom still isn’t over…’
I moved my hands quickly to convey the message. First I waved at A-yeong through the window.
‘A-yeong.’
Then I clasped my hands together in a pleading gesture.
‘I’m sorry.’
Next I pointed at the words [Homeroom Time] written in white chalk on the blackboard.
‘Homeroom’
Finally I crossed both arms to form an X.
‘Hasn’t ended yet.’
Having completed the full sentence, I waited to see if A-yeong understood.
‘Okay, I’ll wait.’
Luckily she grasped my meaning. She gave me that signature smile of hers and nodded. Thanks to her, the wait for the teacher felt far less tedious.
With that thought in mind, I kept exchanging our private gestures with A-yeong through the window. My friend, who had been watching the entire exchange from beside me, looked utterly horrified—like he had witnessed something that should never be seen.
“··· There really was an evil Larry!”
I had no idea what nonsense he was talking about. I ignored him and continued making various hand signals with A-yeong, but the homeroom teacher still showed no sign of returning.
Eventually I couldn’t take it anymore and sent A-yeong a text.
She replied immediately.
But seeing her there made me feel too guilty, so I sent another message.
A-yeong seemed to think for a moment, then waved at me and mouthed the words clearly.
Finish quickly and come… I miss you.
I smiled warmly at the sight. My friend, who had been watching the whole time, spoke up with a completely straight face.
“This is seriously fucked… Just text her on your phone. Why do you keep opening and closing your mouth like a goldfish every few seconds?”
I didn’t bother giving a logical rebuttal. I simply replied,
“And that’s exactly why you don’t have a girlfriend.”
One sentence was enough to shut him down.
After that, the classroom fell quiet for a long time. Since A-yeong had left, I no longer had anyone to play hand-signal games with. I closed my eyes and slumped over my desk. The other students who had been yelling at the Acting Class President eventually realized it was pointless and gave up.
All that remained was praying for the homeroom teacher to arrive soon.
And that prayer finally ended at exactly 42 minutes and 34 seconds.
“··· Everyone, I’m so sorry~.”
Along with the dull sound of hurried footsteps from the hallway, the homeroom teacher appeared at the corridor window where A-yeong had been standing. He slid the window open with a rattle.
“Alright, let’s make this quick. Homeroom dismissed!”
Then he vanished again.
If he was going to do that, why had we waited all that time?
“······.” “······.” “······.”
It was a mystery that would never be solved.
Anyone who has visited school during vacation or on weekends knows the feeling. Walking through empty hallways and deserted classrooms creates an indescribable, subtle emotion that no words can fully capture.
As I walked down that quiet corridor, I strode briskly toward A-yeong, who was waiting at the end. What was she doing?
The thought suddenly occurred to me. They say that if you truly love someone, you think about them even more during the times you’re apart than when you’re together…
Was she sitting quietly and reading a book? Or fiddling with her phone like any ordinary high-school girl?
Imagining A-yeong’s face, I kept walking until my feet carried me to the classroom where she waited. With slightly trembling hands, I slid the door open.
“··· You’re here?”
Just as I expected, A-yeong was sitting there quietly reading a book.
“··· Yeah.”
I slowly approached her, pulled out the chair beside her, and sat down.
“Sorry. You waited a long time, didn’t you?”
When I asked, A-yeong took off the glasses she had been wearing, set them on the desk, and beamed.
“I didn’t wait at all.”
The answer sounded familiar. I smiled back at her.
“I see…”
I knew the truth. She had waited a very long time.
“I’m sorry.”
I apologized once more. A-yeong shook her head and took my hand.
“It’s okay… I really don’t mind.”
She pointed at the book she had been reading.
“Do you know the part about the fox in The Little Prince?”
I nodded.
“I think I’ve heard of it. Isn’t that the animal the little prince meets on Earth and travels with…?”
I tilted my head slightly since I didn’t remember the details. A-yeong seemed satisfied with that and continued her explanation.
“That’s right. The fox is an animal the prince meets on Earth. He’s the friend who teaches the prince about responsibility.”
She turned the page of the book she had been reading and showed me a particular passage.
“If you come at four in the afternoon, I’ll begin to be happy from three.”
“So… I think I felt something similar. Instead of the waiting time being purely boring, it felt a little exciting…?”
I listened to her words in a daze.
“Because I kept imagining you opening the classroom door and walking in…”
I didn’t need to hear any more to understand what she meant. I had felt the same way, so I looked at her and said,
“··· Me too.”
A-yeong paused for a moment at the seemingly out-of-context remark, but when I continued—
“I was thinking about what you might be doing while I was on my way here…”
—her eyes widened.
“I… I see.”
It was that kind of atmosphere. In an empty classroom with no one else around, it was only natural that our hands would find each other.
“······.” “······.”
We didn’t need any more words. Without deciding who would move first, we simply looked into each other’s eyes. I pulled the hand I was holding, drawing her body closer. The warmth radiating from our now-pressed bodies naturally brought our faces together.
That was why.
That was why our lips were slowly drawing closer.
Chu—
Unlike before, this wasn’t an impulsive kiss driven by excitement or pleasure. It was more like our feelings had ripened and naturally met.
First came a light peck. Then we kissed again, and I gently nibbled her lower lip. This time A-yeong didn’t tremble. She softly accepted me.
A series of soft, plush, moist contact accidents.