Han Yujun
Trembling… trembling…
God, Buddha, Allah… why have you seen fit to lay this trial upon me…
I couldn't open my eyes. Standing before something so incomprehensible, I was certain that the moment I did, my mind would collapse the way a psyche unravels before an eldritch horror.
"Heehee! Side pinch!"
"Kyaah! What the hell are you doing!"
"Bleh~ That's what you get for letting your guard down~."
"You little—!"
Pat-pat-pat!
I was walking with my eyes shut, relying entirely on Jia, so I couldn't see any of it — but my ears were wide open, and I heard every last bit. The sounds of a youth I had never gotten to enjoy. Someone pinching a friend's side, then bolting off to catch the one who'd done the pinching. How young. How full of hope. Personally, I approved.
But…
"Heeheehee!"
"Kyaaaaah!"
Boys laughing like that and shrieking in those sharp, piercing voices was something I simply could not accept. I kept my field of vision locked as tightly as possible on Jia so the boys wouldn't enter it. Even so, that inverted, nightmarish version of youth still leaked in through the gaps — but Jia blocked most of it, and that was just enough to keep me upright.
"Uuuugh…"
"Is it that bad? Want to head back?"
"No… Let's go to school…"
My mental fortitude was so shredded I wanted nothing more than to crawl home and convalesce on the spot. But I couldn't let Jia take the hit for my sake. She fretted over me to an almost unnatural degree — like she'd become my mother. Why she went that far, I had no idea. Whether it was because the goddess had set her as my childhood friend and injected some convenient memories, or whether it was just her original personality, I couldn't say. Either way, she cooked quiet, careful meals and took the household chores on herself, doing everything she could not to be a burden.
Knowing Jia, if I said I was going home, she would absolutely follow. Whether this Reverse World worked the same as the Korea I knew was anyone's guess, but Korea was a country that took perfect attendance very seriously. I couldn't let Jia suffer just because I wanted to ditch and leave her behind.
They're strangers, so who cares? Even for someone as self-centered as me, that kind of mindset didn't come easily.
Ah. The dragon and those two bitches were the exception. Those things weren't people, so they could be treated accordingly.
"Kids~ Don't run, you'll get hurt!"
From the direction we were heading, a slightly older woman's voice rang out. A teacher? I angled my gaze just enough to find the owner of the voice. There she was — a woman with a face that screamed teacher, standing in front of the school gate up ahead, casually tapping a long stick against her shoulder with one hand. Probably the student affairs teacher. Or maybe the head of the discipline committee.
"It's almost eight — if we don't run, we'll be late? You're not gonna catch us for being late, are you?"
A male student with flowers for brains asked the question.
Would she? Every head teacher or committee lead I'd ever known was not that soft a creature.
"Of course I'm catching you. You're already late even if you run, so I'm telling you to take your time. Whether you sprint or stroll, you're still getting the stick, so what's the point of running? Ten seconds left. Ten. Nine. Get ready to close the gate. Six…"
"Teacher, wait—!"
At the teacher's countdown, the students charged the gate like mad. I'd known she'd pull something like that. Show up late and your rear end would probably catch fire from that pool cue she was holding. Me, she could hit all day and the only thing that would hurt was her hand — but if Jia got smacked with that thing because of me, she'd be crying for three days and three nights straight. I wasn't sure they'd actually hit boys in this world, but better safe than sorry.
"Don't freak out."
"…?"
The path up to the gate was a steep hill. Walking it would take two or three minutes.
No choice, I guess… This is my fault…
Judging the distance completely unwalkable in time, I—
Whoosh!
—scooped Jia up in a princess carry.
"Kya—kya…?"
And before she could even finish screaming, I took off at a full sprint.
Thank god this isn't my first princess carry…
A guy as my first princess-carry partner? Even with my mind inverted, if that had been the case I might genuinely have cried. Had it been two sisters? The memory was fuzzy, but two girls had been my first princess-carry partners. I hoped they were doing well. I really did.
"Twooo—"
The number leaving the teacher's mouth when I started running was two.
Plenty.
An impossible distance for anyone else. For me? Doable. To me, the Saintess of Nothingness, nothing was impossible.
"Twooo—one…"
The instant the number one left the teacher's lips—
Whoosh!
"Hoo…"
—I was already inside the gate. I wasn't an idiot. If I slammed to a stop right in front of the entrance at a speed that shattered human limits, I would absolutely draw every eye in the vicinity. So I cut toward the back of a building where I could barely sense any presence.
Whooooom!!
The path I'd torn through at that speed kicked up a serious gust of wind in my wake.
"Why is there suddenly a wind—!"
"Kyaah! My skirt!"
Apparently some incident involving boys' skirts flipping up was unfolding, but I hadn't seen it, so it was fine. I set Jia down and asked,
"Which class are we in?"
"…Class 4."
"Let's get in there. We made it through the gate, but if we walk in later than the teacher, we're still getting yelled at."
Jia staggered, dizzy from the breakneck run. No helping it.
"Hold on."
I couldn't quite bring myself to take her hand, so I tugged my left sleeve open, stuffed my hand inside, and offered her the empty cuff. Jia grumbled as she took it.
"You could've just… held my hand…"
"What was that?"
"Nothing…"
Jia grabbed my sleeve and we started walking together.
Sorry, Jia. I heard what you said. I just can't do that for you.
She'd muttered it, sure — but she'd said it right next to me. There was no way I wouldn't hear. It wasn't fireworks going off, and my hearing hadn't gone out. Right now I was the deaf protagonist. The classic hard-of-hearing lead who claims he can't hear someone talking right beside him. I hear nothing. Aaaaaaah…
"So what year are we in, anyway?"
"Are you stupid? We had the entrance ceremony yesterday."
"Oh, right?"
We did, didn't we? Entrance ceremony meant I was a first-year. First-year meant first floor, right? I led Jia up the central hallway.
"Haha! For real? That's hilarious!"
Every so often Cthul— no, male students would appear, and whenever they did I dropped my eyes to the floor and somehow managed to pass without looking.
Inside a storage room behind the milk fridge — a place that made no sense, with no air conditioning and no business storing milk — a male student had shut himself away.
He was strikingly beautiful. Ash-gray hair, lightly bleached, falling just short of his shoulders. The hair itself was full of life, glossy and lustrous, and yet somehow it hung limp, as if drained of all strength.
"Hoo…"
The boy let out a deep sigh, exhausted. A heavy fatigue settled in his slender, gentle eyes — the kind of weariness that had piled up and piled up until it would never come loose easily. Flawless, pale, lovely skin. A soft impression and long, descending lashes. Neatly dressed in his school uniform, he was beautiful beyond measure.
The boy… Han Yujun's lips moved.
"How much longer…"
The moment the words left him, the tears broke free. He was tired. So, so tired. He didn't want to live like this anymore. A life spent matching other people's expectations, terrified of making a single mistake — he didn't want it. He just wanted to live… normally… like everyone else.
"Hic…"
But that was impossible. Because he was Han Yujun, it was impossible.
Just this morning, his mother had said it again.
Mind your conduct. Your every action represents this household.
His mother forgave not the slightest error. If he slouched even a little while sitting, the scolding came instantly. If something funny made him laugh even a fraction too loud, she berated him for being improper — for showing all his teeth, for lacking composure.
He couldn't breathe. Being with his mother was so agonizing he sometimes wondered if breathing underwater might be easier. And still… he had to smile. He had to obey her words and follow her will like a doll.
Rebellion? Being human, of course he'd tried. Please stop. How is a person supposed to be perfect? Just leave me alone. He'd held it in and held it in until it finally burst out of him.
And that very day, he'd been cast out bare into a remote countryside where almost no one lived. Since he was a boy, she'd said, she would at least be charitable enough to leave him his clothes — and then she'd confiscated everything else.
The life of a minor without parental support. It was never easy. He'd held on and held on, but before a week was out he was back, tears and snot streaming, groveling for his mother's forgiveness. From that day to this, he had never once defied her again.
Sss…
Han Yujun wiped his tears with his hand, careful not to get any on his sleeve. If a stain appeared on his clothes from crying, his mother would surely fly into a rage about how slovenly he was.
"…I'm so sick of this…"
Drip…
A tear from his hand fell to the floor. He wanted to hang out with friends like other kids. Laugh and chatter, go buy spicy mala soup or tteokbokki together. Sleep in late and then panic about being late, grab a friend's hand and run for it.
But… that was impossible. Eating commoners' food. Running around because he couldn't keep a schedule. Do that, and his mother would surely punish him severely for sullying the dignity of the household.
I'm lucky… Mother sent me to this school…
For reasons he couldn't fathom, his mother had enrolled him here — not at the elite private academy the company had founded, but at an ordinary school outside the capital region. As if something had possessed her. Even she couldn't station bodyguards or surveillance staff at a public school the way she could at a private one, and thanks to that, he at least got these scraps of time alone to vent. Enough to catch his breath.
Almost eight…
Venting time was over. He had to go back. Han Yujun wiped his tears and quickly stepped out of the old storage room.
He was about halfway out when—
Whooooosh!
"Eh…?"
A sudden gale whipped up, and the skirt he was wearing started thrashing wildly. Han Yujun frantically pressed it down and scanned the area, terrified someone might have seen.
That was when it happened.
Whoosh!
"Huh?"
Something moved at a speed that might as well have been teleportation and came to a stop right in front of him.
So handsome…
What had stopped was a person. An absurdly cool person. So much so that the word "person" didn't quite fit.
A ghost…?
An otherworldly appearance. A woman who had simply materialized before his eyes on a gust of wind — how could that be human? The normal response, once you decided something wasn't human, was to run.
But even as Han Yujun thought that—
"…"
—he couldn't tear his eyes away from the one who had arrived with the wind. Someone he was seeing for the first time, and yet his gaze refused to fall, no matter how strange that was.