Don't Pretend We're Close (2)

...What on earth is her deal? We’ve never even had a proper conversation before. Why is she suddenly acting like we’re best friends? Is this some kind of pyramid scheme? Or a cult? If it’s not that, there’s really no reason for her to want to get close to me...

Why would a girl who spends every day sleeping in the back row with earphones in bother talking to me? Back then, it was only the guys who had "I want to lose my virginity before I get my ID" written all over their faces who did that. Ever since I got into the Academy, even those kinds of guys have vanished. She’s someone who gets along with everyone else, so why me? ...Does she have some kind of hipster complex? Or maybe it’s a "she looks pathetic, so I’ll be the first to reach out" kind of thing. That kind of condescending kindness that only makes the giver feel good. I don’t need it.

"Bye! Jiyoon!"

"..."

She’s probably around 160cm. A ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bit short of average, but the tallest among the small ones. Yozora, who had been standing right next to me and getting in my way, looked up at me as I was about to leave the classroom and waved goodbye. ...Setting aside why she’s still being so pushy, it was technically just a normal farewell, but it still felt incredibly cringey. Is it because she’s Japanese and her sensibilities are different from Koreans? Hmph.

I let out a breath through my nose and spoke quietly, trying not to draw any attention.

"I get it, so move. I need to go home."

"Ah, by the way, which way are you going?"

"Why do you need to know that?"

"I was just thinking if you and Su-a-chan were going the same way, we could all go together."

"...Didn't you just say goodbye?"

"We can just go together!"

"..."

Su-a-chan? Does she mean Han Su-a?

Poke. As I turned my head toward where Yozora’s index finger was pointing, I made eye contact with the daughter of that conglomerate family I know all too well. I’d seen her during the entrance exam, and she was still a girl with a naturally mean-looking face. No, to be precise, rather than mean... she looked like someone who loved to party. I don’t really know how "insiders" hang out, so I can only imagine the worst, but she gave off the vibe of someone who has drinking plans every single day of the week.

Even just looking at her appearance, she’s the complete opposite of me. Her hair is blonde, and her eyes are fierce. I haven’t heard her voice enough to know what it’s like, and I don’t know much about makeup, either. But anyway, she looks like a delinquent.

"Forget it. I’m planning on going with my sister."

"Sister? You have a sister?"

"In the second year. There. If you’ve solved all your curiosities, can you move?"

I’m a bit late, so my sister is probably already waiting at the front gate. Should I send a text saying I’ll be about three minutes late? My sister is the type to get sulky over small things like that.

With that thought, I tried to slip through the gap next to Yozora, but she must have read my mind, because she shifted her position in a flash, blocking my path.

"Hey! Do you want to be friends?"

"..."

On top of that, what came out of Yozora’s mouth was a friend request that felt almost like a public confession. Since her voice was a bit loud, the eyes of a few kids chatting nearby turned toward us. ...What on earth is she talking about? Asking to be friends without any context—is that even reasonable? Friendship is something that happens more naturally... like having similar interests or something...

...No, never mind. What’s the point of explaining this one by one?

I looked down at Yozora, my brow furrowed slightly, and said clearly.

"No."

"Ehh."

I politely declined her friend request and slipped out of 1st Year Class A. ...This stress today, I’ll have to take it out on Seo Woojin, right in front of my sister, by climbing on top of him and just...

"You didn't have to be that cold, did you? Don't you think?"

"Yeah..."

"I just wanted to get close to you... Ugh..."

"..."

"You don't even know how the person approaching you feels! That's why I don't have a single friend yet...!"

Ugh. Should I count this as gossiping? I was drained from having to listen to her vent—somewhere between a complaint and gossip—and I dragged myself home, feeling limp.

I kicked off my shoes at the entrance with a "I'm home," handed my black jersey to the housekeeper who always comes to take my coat, and exchanged some mundane pleasantries about how it’s getting warmer since it’s the end of April. When she asked if I wanted to shower right away, I told her I’d already washed at the Academy and would shower before bed, then began unbuttoning my Academy uniform, pop, pop, and dove into my fluffy bed—the bed that was always fresh and clean thanks to the housekeeper—until my chest felt crushed and it was hard to breathe.

"Huu..."

In the past, my routine would have been to roll around on the bed like this and pick up the manga I’d bought weeks or months ago that I hadn't read yet, but things are a bit different lately. Oh, of course, I haven't completely given up on manga. It’s just that there are a few more steps I go through before that.

And those steps are... looking up erotic things on the internet.

I made it sound grand, but honestly, it’s nothing special. After all, everyone does this, they just hide it because they’re embarrassed, right? Yozora says she does it for about an hour every day, except on days when she’s too busy. Well, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do it a little longer than that. Just a little bit longer...

...Anyway. Ideally, meeting with the teacher would be the best, but I’m holding back because I don’t want to be a burden. I happened to see a post on a community site full of erotic talk that said it’s hard for men to ejaculate multiple times a day. Even as a woman, after I climax a lot, I’m so exhausted I can barely move and just lie on the bed panting. Maybe men feel the same way, even if they pretend they’re fine? I don’t know for sure, but...

"..."

...But the teacher looked perfectly fine even after ejaculating several times. He wasn't just trying to hide it; he genuinely looked fine. Is that level of exertion just nothing to him? If so, how much... just how much... would I have to do to see him look exhausted? One hour? ...Two hours? Maybe, all night long...

I wiggled my fingers, thinking about what happened in this room a few days ago, then dragged the blanket the housekeeper had neatly folded, tucked it between my legs, lay on my side, and started fiddling with my smartphone. I finished all my busy work yesterday, and he said he’d contact me first when he had some free time. I kept glancing at the top of my phone, wondering if he might send me a message right now.

"...Yeah..."

First, step one of the routine: finding an erotic webtoon to use as "side dish." But unfortunately, today wasn't the day the webtoons I follow were updated. ...I was going to masturbate lightly and move on, but of all times, it had to be today. I furrowed my brow and scrolled down to see if there was anything else decent. Maybe a webtoon with an art style I like? Or something where a mutant-type woman gets mercilessly ravished...

But neither the serialization list nor the new releases had anything that fit my taste perfectly. What a shame. When I first discovered this site, it was a whole new world. Have I seen too much of it already...?

I groaned and moved on to the next step. Step two of the routine is browsing a social media site I recently discovered... looking at erotic photos of perverted mutant-types and watching short, 30-second clips filled with genuine moans, while thinking, ...I want to be like that, too...

"...Huh?"

Just as I was about to start my embarrassing fantasies, buzz—a notification popped up at the top of my phone with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a short vibration.

*****

...Maybe it’s because I drank my coffee while holding only the parts Seo Woojin’s hands hadn't touched, just in case. My body feels fine. There were no symptoms of my body temperature rising, and no erotic thoughts either... ...Not really.

I had thought about going straight home if even a small problem arose, but looking at how things were going, it didn't seem necessary. However, to put it another way.

"See? I do my work when I have to."

"...All you did was separate the urgent documents from the non-urgent ones and hand them to me. What do you mean you 'did your work'?"

Maybe it’s because he saw me looking pathetic earlier, but Yoo Siwoo is clinging to me more annoyingly than usual. It means I have to stay in the same ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠space as him.

"Isn't doing even that much better than nothing? Usually, you just play around on that sofa you bought with your own money."

"I knew you were aware. You’re completely useless."

"I wouldn't say I'm completely useless. I just didn't do the work, but I was contributing to the Student Council’s welfare, wasn't I?"

"Do you not know the meaning of the word 'contribute'?"

"I know it well. I also know that when women are with me, they giggle and laugh even if I don't do anything special."

"...Other members might, but at least I’ve never laughed."

"I’m waiting. I’ll make you laugh later."

"Ah, that’s actually kind of funny."

When I politely told him to shut up, the Vice Student Council President chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Is he done having his fun now? Is he going to stretch and head back to the sofa? I was having hopeful thoughts, but he sat up straight at the desk with a grunt instead. ...He’s relentless. Seriously. He never showed this side of himself before, but now that he’s seen me looking disheveled from my heat, he’s changed completely...

I was clicking my pen against the documents irritably, and the moment my gaze drifted away, he surreptitiously reached for the water bottle sitting next to me. ...Haa. It looks like he’s trying to get my attention. How annoying.

"Senior. Should I go get you some water instead?"

"I’ll pass, since you’d probably spit in it before handing it to me."

"Ack. I’m not a grade-schooler; I wasn't planning on doing that. Do you usually go around thinking things like that about me, Senior?"

"I think it’s something you’d be perfectly capable of. Stop trying to talk to me and just go over there to that sofa and play your games."

"Ah, I’m going to hold off on that today. Senior, I saw earlier that you had symptoms of... overwork?"

"..."

He must be talking about how I was groaning in heat earlier. I didn't even want to acknowledge it, so I ignored him. Yoo Siwoo, who must have interpreted that in his own way, chuckled and pulled his chair closer to me. Then, he tilted his head and rested his chin on his hand.

"I’m just worried. I’m worried. If you’re sick, Senior, I’ll have to do all the work you’re doing right now, won't I?"

"..."

It wasn't technically wrong. But he was saying the ridiculous thing that he was worried about me.

"It seems like you’re still a bit sick from the day before yesterday. Should I make you some porridge today? I’m better at cooking than I look. I’ve picked up some skills from watching YouTube."

"I’ll just pay a professional shop to deliver it."

"That’s a waste of money. What money do you have at this age?"

"My family is quite well-off. I don't think you need to worry about that."

Porridge is just an excuse; it’s obvious he just wants to get into my house. He should have come up with a more plausible excuse. I wonder what kind of women fall for such transparent tricks that he keeps using the same repertoire. ...Ah, the secretary who’s been peeking at Yoo Siwoo from afar would probably fall for it. And he’d probably bring any other girl who likes him into his house without hesitation.

"..."

...Ha. If I’d known it would turn out like this, I should have just used the excuse of being sick to leave early. I was sighing while looking at the documents, which only had about two pages left.

Buzz. The smartphone I’d left on the desk vibrated lightly.

A short notification from a bad girl who doesn't even contact me when things are normal, only when she’s drunk or needs something.