I Only Tried to Touch Them Because She Told Me To
"Chu Jaehee, get up. It's nine in the morning."
It was the weekend, so there was no reason I had to listen to Mom nagging me out of bed. I pulled the covers all the way over my head and tried to savor a little more of that lazy Saturday morning peace. But of course my mother was never the type to just stand there and watch.
Her footsteps came pounding toward me at full speed.
"Get up already!"
"Aaaagh!"
She stormed into the room and yanked the blanket clean off. My body spun halfway around as her booming voice hit me; there was no way I could keep sleeping through that.
"Mom, why do I have to get up already? It's the weekend."
"Don't you remember? I told you the tutor's coming today."
"Tutor?"
Right. After the absolute shock of my midterm calculus score, she'd scrambled to find me a teacher. Said the tutor was her friend's cousin's daughter or something like that.
"How does anyone score ten points on a midterm? Even if you are my daughter, that's honestly impressive."
"Well… it can happen."
I hadn't just guessed randomly, and I hadn't exactly skipped studying either. I'd thrown every scrap of knowledge I had at those problems and still walked away with a ten out of a hundred.
"What time is she coming?"
"Ten. Go wash up now."
Even on a weekend, protecting my GPA meant I had no choice. I dragged myself to the bathroom. After showering I pulled out the calculus textbook and a notebook from the course that had ruined me.
"Hello, ma'am."
"Hello, Teacher."
"Please, just speak comfortably. I'm basically just here to help out a little sister with her studying."
"Ah, I suppose that's true. Come on in, Hajin. Take good care of my daughter for me."
"Yes, ma'am."
Warm, friendly conversation drifted through the closed door. That was how I first learned the person responsible for my college calculus was a woman.
"She's got a really nice voice."
Soft, calm, and so pleasant she could have been a voice actress. Just the sound of it painted a picture of someone mature and composed.
Knock knock knock.
"Jaehee, I'm coming in."
That same voice called my name as the door opened and she stepped inside. My eyes moved toward her on instinct—and then I froze right where I sat.
I'd been told she was the top student in the Mathematics Education department every single semester, so I'd pictured the classic model education major: neat black hair in a tight ponytail, round glasses, modest clothes. She shattered every one of those expectations on sight. The first thing that stole my attention was her flashy pink hair. On top of that she wore a loose shirt that barely clung to her shoulders and a tight leather skirt that hugged her body.
That is not an outfit you wear to teach someone.
"Hi, Jaehee…?"
She locked eyes with me and froze just as solidly. I'd seen that exact reaction my whole life; it was practically routine by now.
"Hello, Teacher."
"Uh, yeah. I'm… Ryu Hajin. This isn't a paid tutoring gig or anything—I'm just here to teach you—so just call me Unnie… comfortably."
While she introduced herself her eyes darted all over my face, busy and restless.
"Yes, Unnie."
She'd told me to be casual, so I did as she asked. Even after I answered she still stood there rooted in place.
"Please come sit down."
"Yeah, okay."
The stiff first greeting finally ended when she sat beside me, but her eyes kept moving nonstop.
"I have albinism."
I'd been born with a lack of melanin, which left me with white hair and red eyes. Unusual looks like mine meant I ran into reactions like hers everywhere I went; it was only natural.
"Ah, albinism. This is the first time I've seen it in person, so I got a little flustered. Sorry, Jaehee."
"It's fine. You didn't look at me weirdly or say anything bad. Besides, Unnie, you stand out just as much as I do."
"Me? I'm pretty normal, aren't I?"
Pink hair is normal?
Standards were relative, sure, but that felt a little too relative.
"If the two of us walked around together, people would stare like crazy."
"Yeah, they probably would."
Most people who froze at my appearance hesitated to speak first or even approach. The fact that she was different felt strangely nice—almost welcoming.
Still… can I really trust this person with my final exam?
"Alright, let's start the lesson."
Just as the doubt surfaced, she set her teaching materials on the desk. Each handout had a neatly written sticky note on top, the handwriting so clean even half-closed eyes could read it. The quality was thoroughly prepared. She wasn't getting paid, so she could have half-assed it, yet the materials looked no different from a professional tutor's.
"Jaehee, are you the type who's interested in math, or are you a math-hater?"
"Strictly speaking, a math-hater."
How interested someone was would change the whole flow and mood of the lesson, so I answered honestly.
"That's fine. Studying with Unnie will make math fun. I'm a specialist at that sort of thing."
"Ah, okay."
She rested her chin on her hand and gazed at me steadily. I was just thinking that the light smile on her face made her as beautiful as a celebrity when one side of her shirt slipped down.
In the blink of an eye a bare white shoulder was fully exposed. And something even more magnetic pulled my eyes: the upper curve of her chest and the deep valley between them.
"Unnie, your clothes slipped."
"Oh, so they did. Sorry. I actually overslept today and just grabbed whatever was closest. I put on a shirt that's way too big."
She tugged the slipped side back up and rolled her shoulders open. No more accidental views of a stranger's chest.
"We're going to try about twenty problems. Just to check how solid your calculus is, so don't feel pressured—just solve what you can."
But normally when a shoulder shows, a bra strap should show too, right? Why wasn't there a single strap in sight?
No way… is she not wearing a bra?
Even if she'd come over casually like she was teaching a little sister, showing up braless still felt completely off no matter how I looked at it. Of course she could have been wearing a nubra or nipple patches instead.
"Jaehee?"
"Ah, yes."
"Don't be nervous. Just solve them comfortably."
"Yes, Unnie."
"Okay, then let's begin."
On the first page there were actually a few I could solve, which made me happy—until the second page.
"Ugh… these are way too hard."
From the second page on it felt like staring at a sheer wall. My pen simply would not move.
"If I solve it like this… wait, no."
Just like on the midterm I threw every formula I could remember at the problems, but nothing useful came of it. Still, I didn't leave blanks. Even if I couldn't solve them, showing that I'd tried would decide the first impression.
In the end I only finished the four easiest problems on the first page and handed the rest in empty.
"All done? I'll grade them."
Naturally, everything except those four was wrong. Looking at the test sheet covered in red ink like a rain of blood, I let out heavy sighs even though I'd half expected the result.
"It's okay, Jaehee. Your mom told me about you, so I already had an idea."
"I could do the first page, but from the next one I didn't understand a single thing. They were just too hard."
"I designed it that way on purpose."
"Is there a reason?"
"I wanted to see whether you'd still try when you hit hard problems, or just skip them without even attempting."
So the idea that you shouldn't leave blanks even if you don't know was exactly what she'd been looking for. Realizing that let me breathe a sigh of relief.
"You're amazing, Jaehee. You tried every single one without skipping. Good job."
She praised me with a light smile and then casually ruffled my hair. The sudden skinship on a first meeting was a little startling, but having a pretty person stroke my head felt nice all the same.
"If we take it step by step together, a perfect score on the final will be easy."
"Really?"
"Yeah. So let's get started."
She kept looking at me with eyes full of certainty. The prejudice I'd formed from her decidedly un-studious outfit hadn't completely vanished, but something about her still felt good.
"Alright, Jaehee. Take a look at this problem. It's substitution integration—earlier it looked like you completely stalled here."
The spot she pointed to was filled with the kind of formula a math-hater never wants to see. I wished I could just spit out what I knew the way I scribbled notes, but somehow anything math-related turned me into a mute.
"You don't have to overthink it. Inside that complicated-looking expression you just find one chunk and give it the nickname 'u'. Like giving a complicated person a short nickname."
Hearing such a friendly, familiar comparison made me curious how the explanation would continue.
"A nickname?"
"Yeah. A nickname. Like giving you the nickname 'Whitey'."
I knew it was just a light joke, so I didn't react much. But then—
"Sorry, that was thoughtless of me."
She suddenly apologized.
"You're mad, right…?"
Probably because of my face. My eyes were thin and sharp, so when I looked at someone with a blank expression people often assumed I was angry.
"Then Unnie's nickname can be Pinky."
"Huh? Why am I Pinky?"
"Pink pot."
"Hey, what are you calling your Unnie?"
"So it's okay for me to be Whitey? That hurt my feelings."
"Th-that's not what I—"
Just lowering my eyes a little and looking the other way was enough for her to take it completely seriously; she hurriedly tried to soothe me.
"Pfft! Just kidding. Please finish the explanation."
"You don't get shy easily, do you? Unnie likes that too. Okay, continuing."
She tapped the problem with the tip of her pen and pulled the lightened mood right back on track.
"Once you attach the nickname, the whole expression simplifies down to just u. After you solve it you swap the original name back in at the end, and you're done."
She took a mechanical pencil and wrote the formulas across the notebook in smooth, elegant handwriting. Looking at the equations alone they'd felt overwhelmingly complex, but her ongoing explanation made everything in my head feel light.
"So which chunk do you think we can group as u here?"
"This part."
"Correct! It jumps right out at you, doesn't it?"
Her soft, calm voice sank straight into my ears, and a clear answer to a math question actually came out of my mouth. It was even the right answer. Maybe because that had never happened during my school years, the corners of my mouth curved into a gentle arc before I noticed.
From that point on her explanations were magically easy to understand. The complicated formulas that had turned my brain pure white just moments ago became clear line by line. She wasn't forcing me to memorize formulas; she was spoon-feeding the concepts themselves into my head with intuitive metaphors.
I guess this is why you shouldn't judge people by looks alone.
Maybe she really was the person who would grab me by the collar and drag me to a perfect score on the final.
"Unnie, let me try solving this one."
"Sure. Solving it yourself will help it stick longer."
Knock knock knock.
While I was applying the perfectly explained concept to an actual problem, Mom knocked on the door. She was heading out to meet a friend and just wanted to ask Hajin to look after me in the meantime.
"Unnie, how long are our lessons supposed to be?"
"There's no set time. You decide, Jaehee."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'm just here to teach you, so I'll stay and explain as much as you want."
It was a completely different atmosphere from the forced tutoring I'd endured in high school. We were still a little awkward on the first meeting, but once I got used to it I felt like it would start feeling like studying with a close older sister.
"Ugh…! Teaching someone on a weekend morning after so long is making me a little stiff."
She muttered to herself and stretched both arms high overhead.
"Jaehee, do you have a lot of friends at school?"
"Friends? Not a ton, but enough that I never have to eat alone."
"You're a social butterfly then. Enjoy it while you can. Once you're a sophomore the major classes pile up and it gets crazy."
It felt like advice from an older senior to a junior. Suddenly curious about her age, I turned my eyes from the worksheet toward her. At that exact moment, as if it had been waiting, one of the buttons on her shirt popped open and once again I was looking at the upper curve of her chest and the deep cleavage between them.
"What's wrong, Jaehee?"
"I keep seeing Unnie's chest a lot today."
Only after I said it did she notice the button had come undone and her chest was showing.
"Unnie's chest is pretty, right?"
"Well… yeah, it is."
She thrust her chest forward like she was showing it off, so I gave her the answer she wanted.
"Want to touch it?"
I set down the mechanical pencil I'd been holding to solve problems and spread my right hand wide. My outstretched fingers were just about to make contact with her chest when—
"W-wait a second…!"
In a flustered voice she jerked back and waved her arms around so I couldn't reach any farther.
"You were actually going to touch it?"
She'd asked if I wanted to touch it, so that meant I was allowed to, right?