The Unqualified Freshman
The moment I crossed the main gate of Korea Academy, the air changed. I felt it clearly. This place was too blatant to be lumped together with the middle school academy under the same word "school." People's gazes were quick, their judgments quicker, and their conclusions dropped with even greater cruelty. Just by stepping through the gate, even the surrounding atmosphere seemed different.
The buildings were clean, the paths well-maintained, and the students walked in their new uniforms, each with their own expression. Yet strangely, this didn't feel like a place that welcomed people from the start—it felt like a place that sorted them. 'This is the famous Korea Academy.' A guide-like line played automatically in my head. Of course, I didn't actually hear it. It just struck me that this looked more like a background from a facility introduction video than a school.
Tae-geon took a deep breath like usual. "Whoa. Finally."
"You're the only one who's 'finally.'"
"You're 'finally' too."
"For me it's not 'finally,' it's 'here we go again.'"
When I grumbled, Tae-geon let out a short laugh. "You're talkative today."
"Not just today. I'm always like this."
"That's true."
Eun-seo chuckled softly beside us and tried to stop us. "Both of you, quiet down. We're not even inside yet and you're already arguing."
"We're not arguing, we're talking."
"Your conversations are sometimes too aggressive."
"It's because we're close." Tae-geon answered casually. I stared at him in disbelief, and Eun-seo just laughed without saying more.
…This kind of thing was nice too. Mornings that started with such trivial talk felt like a rare safe zone for me. But the moment we took a few more steps inside the gate, that safe zone ended faster than expected.
"Whoa, look over there." A small voice reached my ears. Whether I wanted to or not, it came through. In this space, the option to "not hear" didn't exist.
"Isn't that Lee Tae-geon?"
"Yeah. Which middle school was he from again?"
"Seogangnam Middle Academy."
"Ah, right. He was famous there."
"His combat training scores were always top-tier, right?"
"I heard he swept everything during the mock evaluations by himself."
Tae-geon's name floated in the air. Every time it was spoken, the surroundings seemed to brighten subtly. That sparkling tone people used when mentioning the word "celebrity." Tae-geon let those gazes slide off as if he were used to them. More precisely, he pretended to be used to them. Tae-geon was human too—he couldn't possibly be unbothered. Yet he always smiled like that. The more burdensome it was, the lighter he acted, and if someone stared at him, he'd casually wave first with an indifferent face. That was Tae-geon's way. A head-on approach. Put nicely, it was straightforward; put badly, it was more exhausting than it looked.
"Whoa… who's that next to him?"
"Park Eun-seo."
"Ah, isn't she the one famous for recovery abilities?"
"Yeah. She's got a good personality and she's pretty, or so the rumors say."
"She's even prettier in person, isn't she?"
"I'm jealous… I wish I was born with a face like that."
"Hey, that's not a miracle, that's a disaster. The world would collapse."
Eun-seo stood out wherever she went. The nickname "Pure White Saint" wasn't given for nothing, and neither were the envious comments about it. Still, I sometimes thought that nickname was too heavy for her. Eun-seo was definitely good at reading people. She noticed faster than others who was hurt, who was uncomfortable, or who was forcing a smile. But that didn't mean Eun-seo was always okay herself. When nervous, she'd fiddle with her fingertips; when troubled, she'd smile a little too long; and if someone's gaze lingered on her too much, she'd briefly look away. She was doing it now too. Eun-seo smiled as if nothing was wrong, but her fingertips were lightly touching her uniform sleeve.
The problem was that I was standing next to those two. Too naturally. And soon, a different kind of whispering reached my ears.
"But…" The voice lowered. When voices dropped, it usually wasn't good news.
"Who's that kid next to them?"
"Who is he, hanging around with those two?"
"Ah, you don't know him?"
"Who?"
"That… he's famous. The one who couldn't awaken."
"Ah… that guy."
"They say making it this far is legendary."
"But why is someone like that with those two?"
"He's just leeching off them."
"He's really something. At that level, it's almost a talent."
The words landed one by one. People didn't shout them outright. Instead, they spoke at a distance where "if you didn't hear it, it's your fault." That made it worse. I didn't change my expression. Changing it would feel like actually losing. And… honestly, I was used to it.
'First day, and they're already fast.' On the first day, you'd think they'd at least be a little cautious. But this was Korea Academy. Maybe "caution" was the first thing that disappeared from the report card.
Then Tae-geon deliberately spoke louder. "Hey, Han Do-yoon."
"What."
Tae-geon's voice was light as always, but I knew there was intent behind it.
"Which class did you get assigned to?"
"Haven't checked yet."
"Then check now. It's not like avoiding it will change anything."
His tone was casual. But Tae-geon didn't remove the arm he'd slung over my shoulder. Eun-seo naturally continued.
"I was curious too. They say class divisions are strict starting from high school, right?"
"By grades and ability, apparently."
Thanks to that, the surrounding gazes scattered for a moment. I took out my phone. Honestly, I didn't want to look. Not looking would at least delay the fact a little longer. But it had to come eventually. Better to face what was coming sooner rather than later.
'Reality avoidance doesn't help growth.' Someone had said that once. The person who said it must have had the strength to overcome reality.
The result appeared on the screen.
Han Do-yoon - Class D
"…As expected." I muttered first. Tae-geon and Eun-seo both looked at my screen at the same time. A brief silence fell. It was a very short silence. But even short silences like that lingered in the ears. If they dragged on, they became comfort; if too short, they just revealed the effort to be careful. I didn't want to be comforted. So I deliberately spoke first.
"Well. I expected it."
Tae-geon immediately checked his own screen. "I'm in Class A."
Eun-seo quietly looked at hers too and said, "Me too." She let out a small sigh of relief, then immediately looked at me. Her reaction was a little late. Probably because she felt sorry. Eun-seo hated moments like this—when something good happened to her, but someone next to her couldn't smile along. Especially when that someone was me.
I shrugged for no reason. "Good for you. If you're both in A, it'll be less of a hassle."
"Less of a hassle, my ass." Tae-geon shot back immediately. "Seeing you in D just pisses me off."
"Why would you be pissed off?"
"Of course I'm pissed. If your friend gets screwed over and sent down, aren't you supposed to get mad with them?"
"I'm the one who should be saying it's unfair."
"Then say it."
"I'm not going to."
"That's why I'm doing it for you." Tae-geon said it like it was nothing. That was Tae-geon's way of comforting. Not grand, not overly confident—just getting angry together right beside you.
Eun-seo looked at me for a moment before speaking carefully. "Classes can change, you know." Her voice wasn't light. "This result isn't everything."
I nodded. "Yeah."
That was my answer, but different calculations were already turning in my head. High school at the academy was thorough. Grades, ability, potential—everything was quantified, and the results divided into classes. Class A was where "potential" gathered, and Class D was where "things to be sorted out" gathered. Of course, on the surface, they'd say everyone was the same student receiving the same education. But reality was different. Good instructors went to good classes. Good training was assigned to good classes first. Good opportunities opened first in good classes. And for someone like me, it wasn't opportunities—it was evaluations like "Han Do-yoon, let's see if you survive today too."
Once we passed the main gate and went inside, an announcement appeared telling us to move to our assigned classes. Tae-geon tapped my shoulder. "Let's eat together after class."
"Okay."
Eun-seo naturally agreed. "Since it's the first day, let's eat together."
"Because it's the first day?"
"Yeah. Because it's the first day." Eun-seo said that while looking at me. The words were ordinary, but I knew there was another meaning hidden inside. Don't be alone. Especially on a day like today.
I hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. "Got it."
Tae-geon and Eun-seo headed toward Class A. I felt a slight urge to follow them. No, honestly, it was strong. If I went to Class A, at least the name "Han Do-yoon" wouldn't come up first. There, I'd just be consumed as "their friend" instead of "the kid who couldn't awaken." But my feet turned toward Class D.
At the splitting corridor, Tae-geon called me once more. "Hey."
"What."
"You'll climb up soon."
It sounded like a certainty. But this time, Tae-geon didn't smile right away either.
"You say that too easily, don't you?"
"I do say it easily." Tae-geon shrugged. "Saying it the hard way won't change anything either."
"You're really simple."
"That's why I'm strong." Tae-geon laughed. This time, I almost smiled a little too. Eun-seo lightly grabbed my arm before letting go. The touch was brief. So brief that from the side, it probably just looked like we brushed past each other.
"Do-yoon."
"Yeah."
"If today… gets too hard, tell me."
"It's not that hard. I'm fine."
Eun-seo looked at me quietly. That gaze was the problem. Every time I said I was fine, Eun-seo looked at me like she was checking the weight of those words. And most of the time, she noticed.
"I know." Eun-seo said quietly. "That's why I'm telling you to say it."
"…Okay."
I didn't answer further and turned my back. Tae-geon and Eun-seo went toward Class A, while I walked down the Class D corridor. And the whispers from behind reached my ears again.
"Whoa, he's really in D."
"I knew it."
"He couldn't go to A. He didn't even awaken."
"But why do Tae-geon and Eun-seo hang out with him?"
"Because they're nice? Or because they pity him?"
"Ah, that must be burdensome. I wouldn't hang out with him if I were them."
Pity. That word was the one I hated most. I didn't want to be pitied. I didn't come this far to be pitied, and that pity wasn't going to live my life for me either.
'I don't want to go.' Honestly, it wasn't that I hated the academy itself. The facilities were good, the classes were systematic, and the people—at least on the surface—weren't bad. What I hated was the "me" at the academy. The me who couldn't awaken. The me with an empty status window. The me who always needed an explanation one beat late whenever meeting someone.
"Ah, he hasn't awakened yet, apparently."
With that single line, everything about my existence was summarized. I didn't stop walking. If I stopped, I'd have to face those gazes again. If I stopped, I'd end up asking myself.
'So, what are you doing here?'
Awakening wasn't a choice. Here, it wasn't a matter of will or effort. Awakening was proof, a pass, the very qualification to stand in this place. And I was standing here without that qualification. No one openly kicked me out. Not yet. But everyone knew how precarious it was to enter this academy without awakening. Today, I was starting another day in that precarious position. To live as if nothing was wrong. To endure while pretending to be fine. Ultimately, to not collapse alone. With no choice but to keep walking forward.