Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: 09. Daily Life and Change
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※Mild profanity warning
I just couldn’t understand what kind of mentality it took to bully someone, whether they were a kid or an adult. It was childish and downright annoying. I stared in disbelief at my textbook, shredded like it had been run through with a knife. Elementary second graders had done this to someone else’s stuff just because they didn’t like them? I flipped through the tattered pages.
“Why’s your textbook like that?”
“Dunno. Looks like someone tore it up.”
My deskmate gawked at the rags that were once my book. We’d always gotten along decently. At my words, she looked worried.
“What? Someone tore up your textbook? Why?”
Sure, I was getting a bit of subtle exclusion from some kids, but only a few. I got along fine with most others. Another kid heard and checked out my textbook before yelling to the whole class.
“Hey, look! Someone tore up Eunha’s textbook!”
“Really? Holy crap, it’s true!”
“That’s harsh… Who did it?”
“Way too much.”
By fourth grade, kids would recognize this as bullying and steer clear, but second graders? They had no concept of pretending not to notice. Especially when it spread like wildfire through the class all at once.
I scanned the room coolly, probing the kids’ mana flows closely. I was always training to read emotions. I’d already peeked into my friends’ dreams once each. And normal nine-year-olds couldn’t fully hide their expressions in a situation like this.
A quick look around, and I spotted the culprit. It was the girl who led the pack that usually mocked me. She was frowning as she gauged the class vibe, like she hadn’t wanted this. I was utterly dumbfounded.
Look, despite appearances, I hated hassle. Being shy made standing out mortifying. When all eyes turned to me, I wanted to bolt. No wonder I rarely stepped forward confidently in front of crowds.
I was timid and indifferent to others, so their words barely pissed me off anymore. But direct harm to me? That was different. It made me mad.
I rarely ever got angry at anyone. But if she pushed further, I’d really lose it. When I did snap, I snapped. Especially among elementary kids with their wild emotions… they’d all just think, ‘Kids will be kids.’
Still, I sighed. I was pissed, but lacked the guts to call her out in front of everyone. No evidence either. Damn it. Maybe I should invade her dreams and torment her there. Who’d have thought I’d stoop to sneaking into a stranger’s dream just to mess with it? Tearing the book was unforgivable. As a former novelist, I loved books. Any book.
“…It’s fine. I’ll ask someone I know to fix it with restoration magic. That was rough on the book…”
I said that while stroking the textbook with my palm. Ah, got it. The kids looked relieved. But then the teacher walked in.
“Kids, class time now. Why aren’t you all seated…?”
“…”
The teacher entered through the front door with a puzzled look, then froze, eyes widening at me in the center of the kids. More precisely, at the shredded textbook in my hands. Ah. I knew instantly. We were screwed.
Seeing my torn textbook, the teacher quickly deduced it’d been vandalized by someone—obviously another student. From that moment, no class. We switched to silent self-study under a heavy atmosphere. Kids eyed each other and clammed up. The teacher stood sternly at the lectern, urging a confession.
“This is so disappointing. I know you’re all good kids.”
“…”
“It’s okay to get mad or annoyed. But tearing a textbook? That’s too far. And Eunha studies so diligently. I always smile seeing how earnestly she takes notes.”
…Huh, really? I knew she trusted me as a model student, but…
Come to think of it, she’d encourage kids bad at magic to try harder but rarely nagged me. She only scolded the slackers. Ah, she knew I habitually crammed notes into my textbook.
“So the one who tore it, confess now and apologize to Eunha. If you do it right away, I’ll let it slide. Right, Eunha?”
I nodded. Whatever the intent, an apology would let me move on. And hopefully, she’d remember this fallout next time and hold back. Honestly, it worked out. No snitching on my end, no guilty conscience.
Standing at the lectern with the teacher was nerve-wracking, shrinking me inside. But if this bullying dragged on till year-end, I’d get fed up too. Better end it here.
I looked up at the kids. But even after the teacher’s plea, no one confessed. I turned to the girl I was sure did it. She hid her nerves, biting her lip but refusing to raise her hand.
“No one’s owning up?”
The teacher spoke again, but silence reigned. The girl looked like she was blaming the situation.
She did it but blamed everyone else. So predictable—I sighed inwardly.
“…I didn’t want to go this far, but I’ll give you 30 seconds. Culprit, raise your hand now. If not, I’ll use magic to read your minds. You know forced truth is worse than confessing. 30.”
The teacher began counting down. Magic worlds were different. Lies could be exposed magically. Lucky for a fair teacher like her.
“24, 23, 22, 21…”
“T-Teacher.”
The girl finally realized confession was her only out. Trembling, she raised her hand.
“I… I did it.”
Murmurs broke the silence. Really? Yesli? Kids buzzed, staring at her. She flushed red, scowling like confessing humiliated her. Ah, figures. My chest ached a bit too. Did I say the wrong thing back then? What should I have said?
The teacher asked quietly.
“Why’d you do it?”
“But… she… the seniors… sob… T-Teacher, you’re too… sniff… much…!”
Her voice cracked with sobs, incoherent. Then she blamed the teacher, stormed to the lectern, and smacked my textbook off it to the floor.
“This kind of textbook… just tearing one…! Sob…! And you blame me…!!”
“So you think you did nothing wrong?”
“But! She was wrong too! I wanted to greet the seniors too! Me too! But because of her stupid textbook! Me…!!”
She bawled hysterically. I quietly picked up the fallen textbook. Shredded by knife cuts.
This was where I’d diligently noted everything these past months. I crammed notes into textbooks, not notebooks—faster, easier reference. And she calls it ‘this kind’?
Rage boiled. I was a kid too. Former adult or not, now a kid. You cry and it’s over?! Beg and it’s fine?!!
Fuming, I did something I’d never done: screamed like a demon.
“Fuck, you done talking?! ‘This kind of textbook,’ huh?!”
Sobs cut off. Kids whipped around, stunned. I’d always been the quiet good girl—too silent, even frustrating adults. My glare scared some, but I was meek, never swore. But I’d lived on 21st-century magicless Earth; I knew curses.
“Fuck, write one yourself. You just dismissed all my notes too? Can’t even make one, yet you trash books? Some books cost tens of millions! Rare treasures! You’re such a bitch—write one!!”
“W-What…?”
“Then you’ll get how amazing they are!! What’re books?! You don’t even grasp half this one! You’re dumber than the book!! Ever written one?!!!”
Again: I was a novelist in my past life. Outsiders couldn’t grasp my love for novels. From my first life I remembered, I adored reading and writing them. Dozens penned. Each my beloved child, extension of me. I cherished every page. Readers’ cheers, laughs, tears, fan letters—pure joy. Books? Second only to words themselves. Every story element precious.
Yet she spat ‘books are nothing,’ made me cry. Tore and tossed it before me. Denying my entire past life.
She flinched but charged back, snarling.
“What?! What’re books?! You— what’s better than books for you! Not even pretty…!”
“I talking face?! That’s why you trash books! You’re just a dumb empty-headed brat!!!”
“What…? Calling me dumb…! Who’re you! Why snap now!!”
“Hey! Think I held back cuz I like you?! Wanna see me shred your clothes same? No, sorry to the clothes. Rip your fave doll—blame others?! Why’d you do it!!”
“Waaahhh!!!”
She lunged sobbing, yanking my hair. Think I’ve no hands?! I grabbed hers back. Stop, stop!! Teacher yelled.
Total chaos. Next class’s teacher and kids swarmed. What happened? She tore Eunha’s textbook… then threw it! Voices jumbled.
Honestly, magic would’ve ended her. But I didn’t. Felt cowardly.
“You think you’re hot shit! The seniors!”
“Then talk to them yourself!! Brats like you blame others, piss off the seniors!!”
“S-Sorry!!”
Eunha? Familiar voices amid it. First time fighting an outsider. I ignored disliked people. First raging at an acquaintance-free foe.
“Can’t even use magic!!!”
She conjured lightning. Shit, brainless?
No biggie. I’d trained evasion long enough, saw mana flows. Dodge.
Fury peaked, but reason held. No magic fights at nine. Insane?
But insanity struck. Amid our brawl, someone jumped in.
“You crazy bitch!”
Hansu barreled from the side, shoving her down. I startled. Rage halved instantly. She toppled unable to match his force. But it played in bizarre slow-mo. Sounds faded. Hair flying, arms flailing skyward—etched crystal-clear. Her head neared desk leg. Eyes wide, I dashed.
Y’know those moments time slows in crisis? This was it. Rage had limits. I kept mine rationally. I snatched her hand fast.
“Huh…?”
Sounds snapped back. Thud—she plopped.
Luckily, my grip made her land butt-first. She looked dazed post-fall.
Phew. I sighed relief, whipped around glaring. Hansu stood puzzled. I released her, faced him.
“Hey, you psycho?! Shoving a defenseless kid sideways?!”
“Hey, but she was gonna magic…!”
“What if I couldn’t block and she head-planted?! She could’ve died!!”
“Uh… really?”
“Yeah, you idiot!!”
First time snapping at a friend. Strength drained; I slumped, tears welling.
“Hey, wait…”
Hansu panicked. Minhee and Inha glared furious.
“Park Hansu, what the hell!”
“Who’re you making cry?!”
“N-No, I…”
“N-No, I’m not crying. Not crying.”
I pressed tears away hard. Everything felt off. First real peer fight. But it ended in rescue? Absurd.
Still, I started with curses and screams—my fault… But hating her that instant, I said nothing, no apology.
Looking back, wild sudden uproar. Once settled, we got hauled to staff room for lectures before tons of teachers.
“No matter how mad, no screaming like that, Eunha. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“S-Sniff…”
She still sobbed. Yeah, cry. Kids often don’t grasp wrongs young. Grows into black history. Ah, why’d I do that? Happens again.
I’d vented enough, calm now. I nodded meekly before teacher. Behind, curious teachers, kids, my friends—even seniors gathered. Damn. Eunhee sis, Je-hyeon bro, Cheonho bro watching mortified me worst. Ugh…!
Kids’ fight! Kids’ fight!! Summoned teachers! And seniors?! Mortifying. I stifled urge to hide face.
“And Kang Yesl! You’re clearly wrong this time.”
“B-But…”
“Starting it makes you wrong. Eunha spoke despite anger. You tore her book, struck first. She had to just take it?”
“…”
She pursed lips, insisting innocence.
Ha… But more than that… damn, semester image ruined… Exams soon, vacation… Stuck as thug…? Plus she’s cute. I look like the villain. Crying kids seem pitiful. Ah, shit…
“Imagine your textbook suddenly torn. Feel good? Someone slaps you outta nowhere?”
“No…”
Mine was restored by teacher’s magic. Magic world perks.
“Eunha feels bad too. See? She’s always so meek. Even now.”
Kids’ flaw-virtue: nod quick to words. She glanced cautiously at me. Yeah, kids are good deep down. Just petty mean.
Real issue uncorrected. I awaited lecture’s end. …Then thunderbolt.
“Anyway, gotta call parents. Such a big fight.”
“Yes…?!”
“T-Teacher…!”
I panicked; so did she. No, teacher—parent summon for second-grade spat?! Everyday kid fights?! Parents…?
“T-Teacher, please not Mom… Please… I’ll take the scolding…”
“Good chance to learn, no more of this.”
“Ah… damn.”
I swept messy fight-hair. Ah, cut it now. Scratches stung hand-back, cheek. Scars? Nah, I don’t scar easy. Plus B-rank healer nearby if needed.
Ah, but really… parent summon… Not scared of scolding, just ashamed of fighting.
“Wait here while I call. Got it?”
““Yes…””
Ah, shit…
Teacher left; acquaintances rushed me. Inha-led friends, seniors swarmed. Head spun. Anxious.
Perfect phrase: one I’d regretted cursing but fit now.
‘Ah, fuck… screwed…’
I clutched head wailing. Ah, should’ve held back more. Almost did… Talked it out… Ah, her fault…
“Hey, kiddo. You okay?”
“Eunha, right?! Eunha, what’s with the fight?”
“Ah… I just got heated…”
Seniors mobbed me; she startled, deflated. Makes sense—Je-hyeon bro, Eunhee sis her admired strong mages. Then glared resentful at me. Inha, Hansu’s glares wilted her again. Beauty’s wrath crushes.
But shame’s shame, unforgivable’s unforgivable. Novelist-me knew book value. Time, effort, heart poured… Life’s essence. Magic world now prioritizes magic, but I still loved novels, books. Dream novelist still; jot ideas in notebook sometimes.
I bowed head from Je-hyeon bro, Eunhee sis petting me.
“Ah, but parents summoned…”
“It’s fine. Happens. I got called tons. Fought Je-hyeon too.”
Cheonho bro patted my back. Yeah, sorta. Kids do that.
“Girl-boy fights differ! Delinquent and good girl same?! Tch, Cheonho.”
“Ow, really?”
Ah, second-grade school life off to bad start. I stifled sigh watching Eunhee sis scold Cheonho bro.
Our parents rushed in post-call. Hers maybe not, but ours far—mage society win. Ha, I trailed teacher shamefully seeing Mom’s urgent face. Yeah, lost temper at a kid…
Mom spotted my injuries, frowned shocked.
“Eunha, you really fought? Never imagined you causing trouble.”
“Me too. Eunha’s so meek.”
“Yes. Our girl’s so mature… Inha, what happened?”
Other mom questioned her too. Honestly, barely remember her name. Bad with classmates’ names… Mild face-blindness…
Inha hesitated.
“…Not same class, so details secondhand. Heard she picked on Eunha first. Bullied, tore textbook…”
“Our kid?!”
Opponent mom whipped to daughter shocked. Fierce glare.
“True? You bullied her?”
“N-No. She started…”
“What’d she do!”
“But! Wanted friends! She hogged them… Waaahhh…!”
Crying again. Everyone flustered. But her mom strict.
“Stop that crying!! Always bully if displeased! Same as with sister! Still act big sis?!”
“She’s not my sis waaahhh…!”
“Stop!!”
Kid wailed shameless. Second grade, but bawled publicly—maybe Mom-present. Her mom asked teacher.
“So what’d our kid do…?”
“Ah, yes. Motive unclear, but Yesli tore Eunha’s textbook, threw it—Eunha snapped. Unkid-like curses… ahem, anger… Yesli panicked, attacked…”
“Waaahhh…!”
“Cry for what—you’re mostly wrong! Bully cuz words failed? Can’t live with you. And you struck first?! Sorry, Eunha. She’s immature… Eunha’s mom, with injuries…”
Situation resolved fast. Worried her mom’d blame me—nope. She scolded, soothed, bowed her head to me.
“Apologize to your friend quick.”
“Not friend…”
“Apologize if you wrong first—didn’t I say?!”
Sobbing, she bowed to me.
“Sorry… sniff… for tearing textbook…”
Wanted this over quick. Felt I’d been harsh to naive kid. Thought bad parenting, but no—just feisty.
“Nah, fine. Sorry I lost temper.”
“My, so mature.”
“Good girl, Eunha.”
Mom beamed, petting me. Her mom marveled.
“Lucky with such grown-up kid. Pretty too… Ours, sister-focused, total troublemaker…”
“Kids are kids. Mine’s only child—so meek, bit lonely. Rarely cried as baby… Convenient though. Yours adorable too.”
Wow, chitchat. Won’t end soon.
Anyway, cause Je-hyeon bro, Eunhee sis—explain to Minhee at least.
Hansu whispered sulkily.
“Why help that arrogant brat? Didn’t even apologize proper.”
“You messed up…! Why butt into our fight?”
I scowled fierce. He flinched. Damn, prior scene baffles still. If she’d head-hit bad… Wouldn’t end well. No desire for one slip maiming someone.
“Couldn’t say full before. Grabbing hand’s one thing—but your shove? How dangerous? Side-push okay-ish. But head-fall? Get it?! You no-apology too! Apologize now!! Head-hit can kill!!”
I fumed. Rekindled rage. How’s a kid fight turn deadly? Can’t assume safe. Blocking her fall pure luck.
My scolding loud—suddenly all silenced, staring shocked. Oh no! Her mom blushed awed.
“How’s a kid so thoughtful?”
“Me too, shocked.”
Hansu gauged mood, panicked, apologized.
“S-Sorry about earlier…”
“Uh, yeah? Fine…”
She dazedly replied, muttering soft. But I heard crystal.
“Like Mom…”
Yeah… sorry…