Why Can't I Hit Him?
Why shouldn't I hit him?
So I ended up going in after all.
The women's restroom.
"…"
I looked around first, just to be safe.
Sinks. Mirrors. A row of stalls lined up along the back wall.
Unsurprisingly, there was nothing special about any of it. The girl who'd come in with Harin slipped toward the back without a second thought, leaving me alone at the sink.
"…"
What am I supposed to do in here? I didn't even need to go.
I just stood there staring blankly into the mirror at the hair Harin had tied up for me that morning.
Come to think of it, it was strange. A few days ago I'd still been using the men's room, and now here I was in the women's, among the girls.
And it all felt so natural.
Is this the life I wished for?
Somehow I doubted it. Then again, it had felt pretty good when they praised me earlier.
While I was turning all this over in my head, Harin's voice floated out from the back.
"Jiwoo."
"What?"
"You said you didn't need to go."
"Yeah."
"Then why did you follow me?"
"You dragged me in here."
"Oh. Right."
Harin, are you a goldfish?
Or is this just what ten-year-olds are like?
A moment later the two of them came back out, and I washed my hands alongside them like it was nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.
…Guess I was nervous for no reason.
The morning classes and lunch passed, and in the afternoon we had art. The teacher handed out a sheet of drawing paper to each of us.
"Today we're going to draw the face of your desk partner or a friend. Look closely at their features and try your best."
Chairs scraped against the floor all around. Harin spun toward me immediately.
"I'll draw you."
"Then I'll draw you, I guess."
"Okay!"
I picked up my pencil and simply stared at Harin's face for a long while.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I have to plan the composition first."
"What's a composition?"
"It's… a thing that exists."
I drew the outline of the face, then the eyes. Next the nose. Finally, the mouth.
After a bit, Harin wandered over and looked down at my drawing.
"…"
"…"
The expression on Harin's face said there were a great many things she wanted to say.
"Jiwoo."
"Yeah?"
"Why is my nose so big?"
"Uh… is it?"
"Look at this."
Harin covered her nose with her hand. I glanced back and forth between the drawing and the real face.
"It does look a little big?"
"No! It's hugely big!"
"Ah. Okay. I'll fix it."
Scribble. Scribble.
I erased the nose and redrew it. This time it came out smaller — and the face turned out wrong instead.
"…Is this okay?"
"Mm…."
So math was easy, but art apparently wasn't. Well, no one becomes a good artist just by surviving twenty-six years of life.
"You can't draw at all, Jiwoo."
"I guess not."
"And yet you were so good at math earlier."
"Math and drawing are different things."
"I guess that's true."
Harin held up her own drawing. "Now look at mine."
Oh.
One look and anyone would know it was me. I had long hair, and even the part Harin had tied up that morning was surprisingly accurate.
"That's really good."
"Right?"
"Yeah. It really looks like me."
Harin puffed up with pride at once. That was when a boy next to us craned his head over.
"Whoa. Seo Jiwoo's eyes are huge."
Harin yanked the drawing against her chest.
"Kim Doyoon, don't look."
"Why? The drawing exists to be looked at."
"It's not finished yet."
The boy named Kim Doyoon snatched the drawing straight out of her hands.
"Hey!"
"Lemme see."
"Hey! Kim Doyoon! Give it back!"
When Harin reached for it, Doyoon lifted the drawing high over his head.
"Catch me first."
"You—! Cut it out!"
I just watched the two of them. At first I figured it was ordinary roughhousing between friends.
But Harin wasn't laughing.
"Give it back now."
"Nope."
"Ugh, I said no!"
"Why? I'm only going to look for a second."
Something was off here. Why did he keep going when she clearly hated it?
Doyoon backed away, then grabbed a black crayon off the desk.
"Want me to draw a mustache on you?"
"Don't."
Harin's voice dropped, hard and cold.
Scritch.
A single black line slashed straight across the middle of the drawing. Right across my face.
"…"
Harin ripped the drawing out of his grip.
"I said stop it, seriously!"
"What do you think? Jiwoo looks way cooler now, right?"
"Not funny."
"I think it's funny."
Harin rubbed at the black mark with her finger. It wouldn't come off. Her expression darkened by the second.
I stood up from my seat.
"Kim Doyoon."
"What?"
"Apologize."
"Why should I?"
"She said she didn't like it."
"What's it got to do with you?"
That was… I thought about it for a moment.
"Because she's my friend?"
"So what?"
Doyoon grinned and flicked my forehead with a finger.
"Want me to draw one on your face too?"
Ah. Why is it that words just don't get through to some people?
Thud.
My fist sank into Doyoon's arm.
"Ow!"
He staggered backward, caught his foot on a chair, and landed hard on his rear. The classroom went dead silent.
"…"
I stared down at my own fist. Did I really hit him that hard?
Doyoon's face crumpled, about two seconds from crying.
"Seo Jiwoo!"
The teacher's voice rang out, and before long the three of us stood in a row at the back of the classroom.
The teacher looked at Doyoon first.
"Kim Doyoon. When a friend says she doesn't like something, is it okay to keep teasing her? No, right?"
"…No."
"Harin told you to stop, and you doodled on her drawing anyway, didn't you?"
"Yes."
"Apologize to Harin."
"…Sorry."
Harin didn't answer.
Then the teacher turned to me.
"Jiwoo."
"Yes?"
"You mustn't hit your friends."
"But he was bothering her first."
"That was Doyoon's fault, and he's already been scolded for it, hasn't he?"
"Yes."
"That still doesn't make it okay for you to hit him."
I thought about that for a moment.
"Why not?"
"…"
The teacher looked at me steadily. "No matter how angry you are, you mustn't hit a friend. You should tell the teacher, or tell your friend to stop."
"I told him, and he didn't listen."
"Even so, hitting is not allowed."
"…"
That's strange.
Harin said she didn't like it. I told him to apologize. Doyoon ignored us both. Then I hit him once, and he stopped.
Sounds like the problem got solved to me.
"Jiwoo."
"…Yes."
"Come on, apologize to Doyoon."
"Me?"
"Seo Jiwoo."
"…Sorry."
I said it with my mouth only. I wasn't actually sorry at all.
Back at my seat, I found myself in a bad mood — scolded for no good reason.
So if someone does something bad, you have to tell the teacher. And if they don't listen right away, you have to wait. And if you handle it yourself, you're the one who gets in trouble.
Infuriating.
If only there were someone who'd go around and straighten out exactly those kinds of kids on their own, even if I didn't lift a finger. Kids who kept tormenting people even after being told no — hand-picked, one by one. Some terrifying figure who'd show up and make sure they never did it again.
I picked up my pencil.
Well. Not that such a person could possibly exist.
After class, Harin came over to my desk.
"Jiwoo."
"Yeah?"
"Are you okay?"
"About what?"
"You got in trouble because of me."
"I'm fine."
"Still — don't hit anyone next time, okay?"
"Why?"
Harin pursed her lips. "Because I hate seeing you get scolded."
"…Really?"
It was a little annoying, but honestly, it didn't bother me much.
Harin looked down at the ruined drawing for a moment, then said quietly, "…Still. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For taking my side."
"Well… that's what friends do."
The same words I'd been thinking earlier came straight out of my mouth.
Harin stared at me for a long moment.
"What?"
"Nothing."
Then she smiled and patted my head once.
Ding.
Sincere affection acquired.
Jung-gi (Vital Energy)+1
"Hehe."
See? This was far better than getting scolded.
The dismissal bell rang, and I grabbed my bag and headed out of school. Harin fell in beside me.
"Jiwoo. Want to get tteokbokki on the way home?"
"Tteokbokki?"
"Yeah. I got my allowance today."
"Let's go."
The answer came out instantly. Tteokbokki is great.
The girl from the bathroom earlier tagged along with us as naturally as anything.
We were walking through the alley in front of the school when Harin suddenly bumped my arm.
"Jiwoo."
"Hm?"
"That's Kim Doyoon over there."
I turned my head. Doyoon was standing at the alley mouth a little ways off — and in front of him stood a woman in a white dress.
"…Whoa."
She was enormous. Enormous.
She looked like she'd tower a full head over even a grown man. Long black hair spilled all the way down past her waist.
"Is she a volleyball player?"
"A volleyball player?"
"She's so tall."
"Are all volleyball players that tall?"
"Maybe?"
I had no idea.
The woman was bent deep at the waist, saying something to Doyoon, who had to crane his neck all the way back just to look at her.
Then, without warning, the woman lifted her head.
"…"
Our eyes met. She gave a small smile and raised a hand in greeting.
"Huh?"
Somehow my own hand went up too. Who was that? Did I know her?
"Jiwoo, do you know that person?"
"No."
"Then why did you wave?"
"Uh… I don't know. Did I mistake her for someone else?"
Honestly, I couldn't say. I walked on without thinking much of it.
The tteokbokki place wasn't far from school. The moment we pushed the door open, a spicy-sweet smell hit us full in the face. Harin ordered like a regular.
"One tteokbokki and five thousand won of tempura, please."
"No sundae?"
"Not enough money."
"Ah."
A shame.
We squeezed into a corner booth, and before long a bubbling red tteokbokki and a pile of tempura arrived. I picked up a rice cake and popped it in my mouth.
"Hot, hot."
Still delicious, though. Harin laughed.
"Slow down."
"I'm starving."
"You had lunch at school."
"That was lunch."
"It's only been a few hours?"
"I guess."
I reached for more tteokbokki, and the girl beside us piped up.
"Hey, Jiwoo."
"Yeah?"
"You're seriously weird today."
"Again?"
"You got amazing at math out of nowhere, you punched Kim Doyoon—"
"I could've been good at math all along. And Doyoon had it coming."
"—but you suddenly can't draw at all."
"…"
That one has nothing to do with anything.
Harin burst out laughing. "That nose was seriously gigantic."
"I'll draw it smaller next time."
"You'll draw me again?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Then I'm satisfied."
Harin happily picked up a piece of tempura, and I was reaching for one myself when—
Buzz buzz.
The phone sitting on the table lit up.
"Hm?"
I turned the screen on. A familiar number — someone I'd seen every single day until a few days ago.
The loading crew chief.
"…"
My hand froze halfway to the tempura. I read the last line again.
The guys are waiting for me? Why?
While I sat there staring at the screen, Harin poked her head around my shoulder.
"Jiwoo."
"Yeah?"
"Who is it?"
"The loading crew chief."
"…Loading crew?"
"Yeah."
I ate the last remaining piece of tempura and said, "I think I have to go to work."
Harin tilted her head.
"You're going there again today?"
"Huh? Today too?"
"Yeah. You go there sometimes, remember?"
"…"
Harin. In your memory, what on earth do you think I do for a living?