Friction (1)
I burst out of Hwayang-gwan and headed straight for the lakeside on the academy grounds. All I wanted was to escape that suffocating, stifling place.
“Haa… haa…”
Thankfully, with all the freshmen gathered inside Hwayang-gwan, the surroundings were unusually quiet. I leaned against a tree by the lake and let out ragged breaths without pause.
…So you found him. The person you wanted so desperately, the one you could lean on—you’ve finally found him. I’m still buried in the mud, yet you’re living your life happily now.
-I like a man I can depend on. But not you.
-You’re neither strong nor reliable. You… don’t deserve to be by my side.
-I wonder how happy the fiancée of someone like him must be? It seems Senior really does like her fiancé. Whenever that topic comes up, her face lights up so brightly.
Calming my mind wasn’t easy. The memories I had barely buried deep inside surged back up, tearing me apart. The scar burned fiercely as if on fire, and a sharp pain throbbed in my chest.
“Ugh… hic…”
My vision blurred and narrowed until I could see nothing. Everything around me was pitch black; I couldn’t move forward no matter what. Lost in the pain, I wandered endlessly. Just as I began to wonder if I would drift like this forever and eventually sink—
-Myaong!
“…Huh…?”
A familiar cry I hadn’t heard in a very long time. Then the rough, tickling sensation of something licking the back of my hand multiple times suddenly pulled me up from the abyss. I lifted my head to confirm what it was.
-Myang!
A single cat with a perfect mix of amber and cream fur—small even for an adult—stared up at me with bright, sparkling eyes.
“…Ttangkong…?”
-Waeng!
The moment I unconsciously called her name, the cat leaped into my arms as if she had been waiting for it. She rubbed her cheeks frantically against my face, then stuck out her tongue and licked the lips exposed beneath my mask without stopping. It seemed not even the mask could hide my identity from her.
“…Ttangkong… how on earth did you…?”
Ttangkong. The dying kitten Yeon had brought back. While searching for a way to save her, I eventually fed the cat my blood after much deliberation. Though I hadn’t held out much hope, the next day she suddenly reappeared, lively and full of energy. That was the day she received the name Ttangkong and melted into our daily lives.
And then, two years ago on that day. Even though Yeon had locked her in the room, Ttangkong had escaped, followed us all the way to the mountain keeper’s cabin. I remembered her returning to the village with us, but after that, there had been no trace of her at all. No matter how hard I searched, I found not a single clue and eventually gave up in deep sorrow…
“You were alive… I’m so glad… really, I’m so glad…”
-Myaong!
At some point, my voice had grown thick with tears. I held Ttangkong tightly in my arms and stroked her fur with care for a long while. She didn’t resist my touch, quietly letting me hold her. Thanks to finding something precious I thought I had lost forever, the turbulent emotions inside me began to settle again.
She was probably here because Yeon had brought her and was raising her. Considering how strange their relationship had been, it was a bit surprising, but perhaps Yeon had judged that a cat wouldn’t be much of an obstacle in her path. …In the end, it turned out to be a good thing for me too…
-Myang~
I watched Ttangkong purring contentedly in my arms and fell into thought. There was almost no trace left of the person I had been two years ago. I had grown as tall as the squad leader, my physique had become incomparably solid, my voice had deepened after puberty, and with the mask covering my face, no one could recognize me. But if Yeon happened to witness this scene, she might figure out who I was. After all, Ttangkong had never let anyone but me and Yeon get close to her.
“…”
Besides, it didn’t seem appropriate for Yeon to become aware of my existence in this situation. I was already a nightmare from her past, and now she was living happy days with someone else. Moreover, I had long since accepted the headmaster’s request. I was in a position where I had to side with those standing against her and devise ways to elevate their influence. If she learned that her old nightmare and her political enemy were together, wouldn’t she put in even more effort than usual to eliminate them? If that happened, not only would the headmaster’s request become secondary, but it would also make it far more difficult to follow the squad leader’s order to graduate from the Cradle with excellent grades.
…Come to think of it, does Yeon even know that I died? Probably not. Why would she pay any more attention to someone she had discarded like an old rag? Even if she did know, she might have been relieved that the nuisance had disappeared. Revealing my identity wouldn’t change anything. If anything, it might provoke an even more intense reaction.
What should I do? Should I use harsh methods to cut Ttangkong off? But no suitable method came to mind. I couldn’t exactly use physical force…
“…”
Suddenly, I recalled Yeon grumbling that Ttangkong understood words far too well. Just in case, I stroked her head and said,
“…Ttangkong. Today is the last time we see each other. From now on, you absolutely must not come looking for—ah!”
-Myaang!!
Mid-sentence, a stinging pain suddenly shot through the back of my hand. When I looked down, Ttangkong was lightly biting it. There was no way, but it really looked like she understood what I was saying and was getting angry…
“…Pfft.”
Yet that adorable action strangely eased the heart that had been forcing itself to cut her off. I gently stroked her back again and said,
“…Sorry. I take back what I just said. You can come find me from now on. But you must never let Yeon… Mom notice. You have to come secretly. Got it? It’s a promise…?”
-Myaong~
The moment I finished speaking, Ttangkong let out a small cry as if answering. It somehow sounded satisfied. After replying, she stood up from my arms and trotted away along the lakeside. I watched her disappearing figure for a long time.
Then, feeling a sudden emptiness, I lifted my left hand to check it. The fourth finger that once held something was now hollow and empty. The Yeon I knew was truly gone. The person I had seen earlier was simply an upperclassman from the same academy whom I had met for the first time.
“…Ugh.”
Suddenly, a corner of my chest throbbed with a dull ache. For a moment, I had the illusion of catching the faint, wistful scent of forget-me-nots.
“Hyun-ah…! Where have you been? Do you know how hard I looked for you…?”
On the way back to Hwayang-gwan, I ran into Yena, who had been pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the promenade.
“Sorry. It felt stuffy, so I went out for some air.”
“…Really? You’re not feeling sick or anything, right…?”
“…No, it’s nothing like that. You really don’t need to worry.”
“Then that’s a relief… Well, with that thing on your face, it must feel stuffy. Anyway, let’s hurry…! They said they’d briefly explain the upcoming schedule soon…!”
I was dragged back into Hwayang-gwan by the urgent-looking Yena. Fortunately, the discomfort I had felt earlier was gone. On the platform, one of the professors who had been introduced earlier stood ready to explain something. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with a neat mustache and a well-fitted suit.
“Ahem, everyone, please listen comfortably from your seats. I am Professor Song Dae-won, in charge of the 1st-year Magic Tactics Department’s PA Control course. As you all know, the academic schedule begins tomorrow. Classes will proceed according to the original timetable, but since you are freshmen, there are additional tasks you must complete. I wanted to inform you of them in advance.”
The professor scanned the audience as he began his explanation. The monocle over one eye sparkled every time he turned his head.
“Most of you have only awakened as mages a few months ago at most. Therefore, you probably don’t fully understand what you can do or where your limits lie. At our Cradle, we focus on identifying the individual characteristics of such young mages and providing optimized education tailored to them. Accordingly, over the next two weeks, in addition to the regular academic schedule, you will be required to complete these additional processes.”
After speaking, the professor stepped aside and pressed a button on the device in his hand to activate the projector. A whirring sound followed, and a chart filled with text and diagrams appeared on the large white screen behind the platform.
“First, you will measure your maximum internalized particle capacity—that is, your Lubin Value. After that, we will measure your Conversion Rate, the percentage of particles you can expel at once to form magic formulas. Then, through an attribute compass test, you will identify the magic type most compatible with your constitution. Most freshmen will likely choose either Emission or Circulation as their primary major.”
The professor pointed to various parts of the chart with a pointer as he continued.
“These processes will be carried out sequentially alongside classes. And on the fourteenth day, after the basic curriculum ends, you will take your first exam at the Cradle.”
A small stir arose at the word “exam,” but the professor paid it no mind and kept explaining.
“The theme of the first exam will be announced later. Since the content changes every year, don’t waste your time pestering the upperclassmen. There’s no need to worry too much. The exam will be conducted at a ‘very easy difficulty’ and will only cover content within the scope of the basic studies you’ve learned. If you can’t even manage that, then you simply don’t qualify to receive the high-quality education the Cradle provides.”
The professor’s tone grew slightly sharp.
“Your score on the first exam will be directly reflected in the personal ranking list you will receive for the first time at the Cradle. And as you will soon learn, personal ranking is an extremely important factor here. The treatment given to those who graduate with excellent grades versus those who don’t differs drastically outside these walls—like heaven and earth.”
Although he had told them to listen comfortably, most of the freshmen stopped what they were doing and focused entirely on his explanation.
“Of course, there are still three years until graduation, so it is possible to improve your skills as much as you try. Even so, the score on the first exam is more important than any subsequent practical or examination.”
The professor stepped slightly aside and pointed at a section of the chart with his pointer.
“Our Cradle operates a mentoring group system. Second-years who have completed various courses and practicals each take charge of a freshman newcomer to help them adapt. Normally, the second-year mentor chooses their mentee, but freshmen who rank in the top 10% on the first exam are granted the right to designate their own mentor.”
“Eh…?”
“Then…?”
Some students who quickly grasped the meaning began murmuring here and there. Seeing their reaction, the professor gave a small, satisfied nod.
“Haha, it seems you’ve finally caught on. That’s right. If you achieve a good score on the first exam, you can naturally designate an outstanding upperclassman and receive their advice and guidance. That positive cycle will continue, naturally increasing your chances of receiving a better final grade at the end of the year. For example… you could even work together with someone like Baek Seoyeon, the current second-year top ranker who gave the welcoming speech earlier.”
The blatant remark caused the commotion to grow even louder. In the end, the professor had to raise his hand to calm the students.
“Quiet, please! Also, each mentor can only take a maximum of two mentees, so spots are limited. If you want to designate the upperclassman you desire as your mentor, you must truly give it your all on the first exam. It seems you’ve roughly understood, so I’ll end the explanation here. Then, I wish you all the best of luck ahead.”
After finishing, the professor turned off the projector and left Hwayang-gwan. Once he was gone, an uncontrollable wave of chaos erupted among the students. Excited voices filled the hall as they chattered among themselves. The name mentioned most often among the second-years was, of course, Yeon’s. Other names of upperclassmen known for outstanding skill and strong backgrounds occasionally popped up as well.
Beside me, Yena muttered in a slightly intimidated voice.
“Wow… everyone’s so confident… I wonder if I can do well…”
“…You’ll do fine. I’ll help you too. Let’s work hard together.”
“…Yeah! Thanks, hehe…”
When I offered words of comfort, Yena perked up and lightly hopped in place. But in my mind, a completely different idea was forming.
The request the headmaster had given me. I hadn’t even placed the first button yet and had no idea where to begin. But… perhaps a way had just presented itself.