Physical Union (3)
Physical Union (3)
In truth, her hostility wasn’t entirely without basis. Even someone as uninformed as I could see that naming her my mentor brought her no benefit whatsoever. The academy’s current recommendation system had long since devolved into a tool for securing personal interests. I had entered Yolam through that very system, and my records listed my origin as a remote pioneer village in the southern frontier. Worse still, I wandered the halls wearing a ridiculous mask at all times. My personality wasn’t exactly charming either, so I hadn’t built any meaningful connections. Every single one of those traits was something Yeon Minha despised. Even without her personal dislike, my profile offered plenty of ammunition for anyone looking to attack me.
And yet she had been forced to name me her mentee in front of everyone. It would have been fortunate if she only suffered mockery from those who already disliked her. The fact that we had clashed with the academy’s most popular student wasn’t a point of common ground between us—it was simply another reason for others to keep their distance.
After the rankings were announced, I noticed the way others looked at me had shifted slightly. But it didn’t seem to matter much to Yeon Minha. Last year she had achieved overwhelmingly excellent results, only to be pushed into second place by someone whose talent surpassed even hers. Since she herself possessed abilities on an entirely different level, she probably held others to equally harsh standards. Still, that was her problem. I had no obligation to accommodate it.
From my perspective, it was actually better if she openly displayed her animosity. That increased the chances she would react exactly as I hoped.
“I’m starting to feel rather disappointed. At this rate, how are we supposed to spend a year in the same group?”
“Did you seriously think I’d stay in the same group as someone like you for an entire year? I suspected as much earlier, but you really are an idiot. The moment the probation period ends, you’re out.”
Yeon Minha snorted. Once a mentor was designated, there was no right of refusal, but after a few weeks of probation, permission was granted to change mentoring groups. Since second-years faced severe penalties for failing to secure a mentee, she clearly intended to expel me the moment the minimum required period passed.
“I believe changing mentoring groups requires mutual consent. Do you really think I’ll agree to that?”
“Who knows? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even understand how much power a mentor holds. With a single flick of my finger, I could make you crawl like a dog for an entire month. I wonder if you’ll still be spouting that carefree nonsense then. How amusing…”
Yeon Minha’s lips curled into a mocking sneer. Once again, I had to suppress the violent urge to make her crawl like a dog. Success was right within reach. I couldn’t let a single mistake ruin the plan now. Imagining the day I would finally vent this frustration, I clenched my fists until my nails bit into my palms.
“…I must admit, that does sound rather frightening. What a shame. It seems I’ll need some means of protecting myself as well.”
“…What?”
A flicker of confusion crossed Yeon Minha’s face for the first time.
“Let’s see. Spreading rumors that we share a rather intimate and secret relationship might work quite nicely, don’t you think?”
“You… How dare a lowly bastard like you—!”
“I don’t know how many people would believe it, but for those who already dislike you, the truth hardly matters. Given your current situation, even a small scandal would deal a significant blow, wouldn’t it? I’m not sure if there’s any lower you can fall.”
I continued in a calm, almost casual tone, as if discussing something trivial.
“…I’m not particularly pleased about it either. It seems I’ve earned quite a bit of hatred from our very first meeting.”
It wasn’t a lie. The words I had carefully chosen to provoke her were simply ones I found deeply repulsive myself.
—Crack…!
Yet the effect was exactly as expected. Frost spread coldly from Yeon Minha’s hand where it gripped the table. The soft tablecloth froze solid, and the glass cups were covered in fine cracks. Success was now truly within arm’s reach.
“But if you hate me that much, there’s nothing I can do about it. In that case, I have a proposal… Would you care to hear it?”
Yeon Minha stared at me with an incredulous expression.
“…Ha. How arrogant…”
But after a brief moment, she accepted my offer with a face filled with cold fury. The pitiful act I had been putting on had finally paid off. If I hadn’t been wearing the mask, or if Yeon Minha had maintained even a shred of composure, things wouldn’t have gone so smoothly. I had been told since childhood that lies showed plainly on my face.
“…You’re going to regret this.”
With those words, Yeon Minha stormed out of Hwayang-gwan. All that remained at her seat were the stiff, frost-covered tablecloth and the cracked glassware. But I felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment and liberation. I had never expected to get along with her in the first place. The personality and past actions I had researched beforehand had already formed a strong prejudice, and meeting her in person had only reinforced it. She was also the very type of person I found most repulsive. In a way, she had reminded me once again that appearances weren’t everything when it came to people. She also stirred painful memories of someone from my past. But personal likes and dislikes no longer mattered. We were already seated in the same carriage, heading in the same direction. What we needed now was nothing more than a physical, mechanical union—one that prioritized the goal above all else.
***
On the way back after the mentor-naming ceremony ended, I spotted a familiar figure with light brown hair hurrying out of Hwayang-gwan. I approached her and spoke, but Yena addressed me with formal speech, as if I were a stranger.
“Who are you, speaking so familiarly to me?”
“…Yena?”
“Hmph.”
Yena turned her head sharply and shot me a resentful glare. She had greeted Mu-yeong earlier inside Hwayang-gwan, but for some reason she had passed by me with a cold expression and taken a seat at a distance. I had been wondering why she was acting this way, but nothing came to mind. Had I made some kind of mistake? We had only just met three days after the exam. There hadn’t been any issues during the test either—our teamwork had been excellent. Even after the incident, I had told Yena and the others to evacuate to safety while I handled the dangerous area alone…
“Ah, now that I think about it, aren’t you the student Yu Jinhyun who heartlessly left without looking back that day?”
Ah.
“…I’m sorry. There was a reason I had to—”
“Of course there must have been. You must have had a very good reason for shaking off Yena when she tried so hard to stop you.”
“…”
I finally understood the source of Yena’s inexplicable sulking. Her voice was thick with disappointment. It even sounded slightly wet.
“…Do you know how worried I was?”
Her grievance was entirely justified, leaving me at a loss for words. I had left in such a rush without any proper explanation. At least she didn’t seem truly furious. It felt more like a light complaint, the kind that wanted someone to scratch an itch. Otherwise, she wouldn’t keep glancing at me only to whip her head away the moment our eyes met…
“…I’m sorry.”
“Hmph. Now you say that…”
“I mean it. I’m truly sorry. What can I do to make it up to you?”
“…”
In the end, I had no choice but to ask directly. Moved by my proactive attitude, Yena’s sharp edges gradually softened. She lowered her head slightly and began listing her demands in a hesitant voice.
“…If you spare me one day on your next day off, I might feel a little better…”
“I’ll do that.”
“Hyak…”
Startled by the immediate answer, Yena’s body trembled slightly.
“But are you sure? If we go out together, people will stare because of the mask…”
“…It’s fine. That doesn’t matter at all…”
Yena spoke in a deliberately firm tone.
“Then it’s decided?”
“…Yeah. Heehee…”
Yena seemed to have completely dropped her act. Her sulking had melted away like spring snow.
“Um… I’m sorry for getting angry too…”
Now that a bit of embarrassment was setting in, Yena lowered her head and apologized in a voice barely louder than an ant’s.
“…And thank you for talking to me first. Congratulations on getting first place… I’m really glad you weren’t hurt…”
Before I could reply, she turned and hurried away.
“Then… see you tomorrow…?”
Watching her rabbit-like retreating figure, I found myself pondering the difference in how I treated Yeon Minha and Yena. I had felt it before, but perhaps I really was weak against gentle people.
“…Haa.”
Once Yena had completely disappeared, I finally let out the breath I had been holding. Even though I had known she was only pretending to sulk, the fear of being abandoned had risen up and left me breathless. I had felt something similar when I left the northeastern garrison to enter the academy. This was the same emotion I had felt toward someone two years ago.