A Gift (2)
Date. A time when lovers, or those with mutual affection, meet to spend time just the two of them. In that case, couldn't this be considered a date? Seo Woojin….
…He said he had feelings for me, too. And I… well, I’d much rather be with him than deal with those annoying boys at the academy. But that didn't mean I agreed to wear something like this.
"Why are you squirming like that? It’s not like you’ve changed that much since earlier."
"I have changed! …Sir. The, the clothes…."
"In terms of exposure, isn't this actually less than what you had on before?"
"But this, somehow…. It feels even more lewd than before…."
"It’s fine. You look great in it. It’s not weird at all."
"It’s not about whether it’s weird or not…. Look…."
I tugged down the hem of the skirt that fluttered against my thighs and followed the teacher, who was walking three steps ahead with a bright smile. The thin, ivory-colored jacket draped over my shoulders was fine. Setting everything else aside, the sleeves easily covered the backs of my hands, and the fit was loose enough that the hem barely brushed my thighs. Even if I didn't think this outfit looked pretty on me, even if it didn't look like a couple’s outfit with him, I would have given it a perfect score just for the lack of exposure. But this—this airy, pastel-toned skirt I was wearing instead of dolphin shorts? It was a hard no.
To begin with, clothes like this shouldn't suit me. Only lively, cute girls like Yozora should wear them. I… I just look better in comfortable sweatpants. It was obvious that passersby would look at me and whisper, "Why is she dressed like that?"
"Teacher, Teacher. I, I think I’ll just wear what I had on before…."
"You wear your school uniform skirt just fine, so why this? And we agreed to call each other by our names when we’re outside. What if someone hears and gets the wrong idea?"
"But how am I supposed to walk around in this? Even you can see it doesn't suit me…."
"It suits you perfectly. If I were lying, I wouldn't have stared at you so blankly back at the clothing store."
"Maybe you were staring because it looked weird…."
"It doesn't look weird at all…. Ah, do you want to check how other people see it?"
"Y-yes, yes?"
"We’re just past this alleyway, and then it’s the main street, right?"
"No, no, no! I, I’m too embarrassed, I can’t… Eek…?!"
Even though I waved my hands in protest, the teacher gripped my wrist and started walking forward. He moved slowly and gently, as if to say he would stop whenever I wanted. What should I do? Should I stop? If I stop, what then? What comes next? I didn't know. The deeper that worry grew, the louder my heart pounded in my ears.
One step. Another step. As I was led by his hand, the noisy bustle of the downtown area drew closer. A chaotic blend of voices—too loud to distinguish what anyone was saying—pounded against my eardrums. And when we stepped right into the middle of it all:
"…."
Whether it was the guys gathered in groups talking about a gaming tournament, or the girl explaining why her dinner was disappointing, people of all genders couldn't help but glance our way. Watching that, I eventually hid behind the teacher.
"Su-a, wait, I can't walk if you cling to me like that…."
"L-let’s go. Quickly. You said we were going to watch a movie…."
"No, I’m telling you, I can't walk."
"I’ll push you, so just go. Somehow…!"
Go. Go. Go quickly. As I pushed his solid back with all my might, his body began to move sluggishly. Of course, the gazes pouring onto my body and thighs… remained exactly the same. Was I perhaps more noticeable walking in this ridiculous posture, clinging to him from behind? I thought so, but it was too late to fix it. So, I pushed the teacher as far toward the side of the road as possible, away from people's eyes, and tried to escape.
"…Oh? Infirmary Teacher?"
"Teacher? Ah, you're right."
"Hick…."
I never dreamed that people who knew the teacher would appear right in front of us.
"Thank you for last time. You must have been very uncomfortable with all the rainwater splashing on your shirt…."
"It’s nothing. My house was right there, so it wasn't a big deal. Really."
"Still…. I felt like I should have come to see you once more."
"It’s not like it was a car accident, so don't worry about it. Besides, your girlfriend already took care of the cleaning bill quite generously."
…Well, it’s a relief that the attention isn't focused on me, at least. Rainwater? On the way home? Girlfriend paid the cleaning bill? It was all news to me. Listening to them, it seemed like there was a small accident on the street on a rainy day. That’s how the teacher ended up receiving the cleaning money. But the voice was so unfamiliar…. Who could it be? Not a student, but a teacher? Since we were already caught, I peeked my head out slightly to see a very casual-looking woman and, in contrast, a man who looked like a model student. For now, they were total strangers. If they were freshmen, I would have seen them in class, during practice, or on assignments, so they must be sophomores or juniors. Thanks to that, I felt a tiny bit relieved. It was better than being caught by another freshman.
"U-um, what was your name again? The 100,000 won I received last time was such a large amount, I wanted to return some of it."
"Forget it. That’s just a day’s pay for a weekend part-time job at most."
"Hey, Dabin…. Ah, it’s Seol Dabin. That’s her name."
"It’s still a lot of money. If you insist…."
"I told you, forget it. Just use the remaining money for a date with your girlfriend behind you."
I’m not his girlfriend, just his sex partner, though…. I rolled those words around in my mouth before carefully swallowing them. Just like at the clothing store earlier, I didn't find that misunderstanding unpleasant.
"Hmm. Then let me know if you need money later. I’ll remember."
"You don't have to do that…. But alright, I understand. Hey. Baek Jiho. Let’s go."
"Oh, oh?"
"I said let’s go. You said you made a reservation somewhere earlier."
"Ah, right. Yeah."
"Have a good time. You too, Teacher. And the girlfriend behind you."
"…Ah, yes…."
In the end, my only contribution to the conversation with the two of them was a short, three-syllable response. After that, they didn't ask me anything else and disappeared into the crowd. …What a relief. If I had run into other freshmen, they would still be pestering me, asking what our relationship was….
"Su-a. Let’s go, too. Don't just stand there."
"Y-yes, yes…."
Had we passed the crisis? Whew— I let out a sigh mixed with tension and carefully followed the teacher.
"…Is the skirt okay now?"
"It’s, it’s not okay…."
"That’s a shame. It looks just pretty to me."
"…That’s why I’m wearing it against my will…."
Of course, I stayed glued to the teacher's side, keeping the skirt away from others' gazes as much as possible, while still fiddling with the awkward, airy hem. …Wondering if I would really go through with the act I had planned after we finished the movie with the teacher.
"Ouch, that stings…."
I spent a moment lying comfortably on the sofa, zooming in on Lee Hayoon's photo. After pulling out a strand of hair that had been crushed between my back and the sofa, I rolled around and examined the next document. But the documents only contained names, ages, academic records, addresses, confirmed abilities, and resident registration numbers…. Of course, I didn't expect anything grand from mere enrollment papers, but since it was just simple information and a front-facing photo like this, my interest cooled a bit. Other than the address, there was nothing I could really use. Pretending to know anything else would just be annoying.
Still, I looked at them carefully, running a mental translator on each one, thinking maybe there was something I could use here or there, but the result was zero. At this rate, I had no choice but to pin my hopes on the one thing I hadn't found yet. …My sensitive Jiyoon-chan. What’s her hobby? Maybe she unexpectedly likes alcohol….
"Huh?"
Games. Games, huh? I stared at the box clearly labeled 'Hobby' with a scowl, recalling every moment I’d seen Jiyoon-chan at the academy. But the only image that came to mind was the top of her head. That cute crown of her hair when she was slumped over her desk sleeping. That’s strange. To say she likes games… I’d never once seen her busily fiddling with her phone…? Did she just write that randomly to fill in the blank? Or maybe not a mobile game app, but a console? Or a computer….
"Ugh…."
Maybe it’s one of those weird shooter games the girls around me used to play in high school. I heard there were two types. Anyway, with it written so vaguely, there was no way to know right away. And I didn't have enough motivation to keep every famous game in my head just to approach her….
I stared at my phone a little longer, just in case, but eventually, I got lazy and left the phone on my stomach, staring blankly at the ceiling.
"…."
…Maybe it’s because the alcohol is kicking in. Why don't I just stop beating around the bush and talk to her properly? That thought kept circling in my head. Think about it. How easy would it be? "Hey. Seo Woojin. Can’t you rape me? It’s embarrassing, but that’s my preference." If I said it like that, I’d get a YES or NO answer. If it’s a YES, well, we can both enjoy ourselves. If it’s a NO, well, I can try to persuade him more according to my capabilities.
But because of the small greed remaining, I couldn't easily make that choice. Rather than a normal rape play where I act cute and enjoy it without any sincerity, I’d rather be threatened that he’d kill me once this disgusting thing is over. Even if I started shedding tears, crying out, "Please, stop—" in a way that didn't suit me at all. Without caring. …Until the man's sexual desire and anger subsided. Until I was exhausted and struggling even to breathe properly, used like an onahole. Even if I whimpered that it was a "dangerous day," even if I said it sincerely, not as a lie to excite the man raping me—I’ve spent years wishing to be raped loudly until my belly was full of sticky fluid that flowed down my thighs. And that desire keeps poking my shoulder, asking: "Can you really be satisfied with something as lukewarm as a rape play?"
"But he already knows everything…. Ugh…."
What was it he said? "Do you think I don't know why you're doing this?" Was that it? The memory of Seo Woojin coming to my house, deleting the photos he used for blackmail, and telling me not to pretend to know him anymore, floated up like a heat haze. If he had just lost interest and drifted away for a while, that would be one thing…. But since he’d figured out my true feelings and run away, it was impossible to trick Seo Woojin into raping me anymore. In the end, all that was left was a rape play that was 2% lacking.
Whatever my greed was, I had chosen the man named Seo Woojin. …And as long as I had no intention of finding another master, that was the best I could do.
"…You impotent bastard. ……Pfft…."
The more I think about it, the more pissed off I get. A woman of my caliber makes that much of an appeal, and he just… what, he should have just gotten me pregnant if he wanted to. Why is he so picky? Should I just curse him out? "You fucking bastard, a woman is doing all this, and you’re just ignoring me?"
I grumbled and cursed at that bad guy while downing the rest of the vodka into my stomach. A moment later, I staggered up from the sofa and went into the bedroom with my phone. I wiped the screen, which had become sticky from spilling a bit of alcohol earlier, with my sleeve. Following my nightly habit, I went into my contact list—which had fewer than 10 entries—and stared blankly at the contact still saved as 'Master'.
If I call from my number, won't I just get cursed out? Being cursed at in Seo Woojin's voice feels good for the moment, but it would only push us further apart. What if he’d already blocked my number? After repeating those usual worries dozens of times, I decided to concede one step today. Borrowing the courage from the alcohol, I searched the internet for how to hide my number when calling.
Beep. Beep.
About 2 seconds. After confirming that the signal was going through, I realized he hadn't blocked me yet. I let out a silly laugh and hung up the phone.
"…Heh."
…Just so there’s no misunderstanding, it wasn't love. It was closer to obsession. An obsession to be loved.