Jealousy (2)

Tack. Tap.

The dry rap of a board marker against the whiteboard circled Han Sua's ear and fell away.

"Crime in the city always carries the risk of a building coming down, so…."

The teacher's voice, riding over the marker, was no different. A classmate's light sneeze — achoo — and the furtive rub of a sleeve under a nose were no different. The sparrows beyond the window, chirping their way through some conversation no one could parse, were no different either. Every one of those sounds drifted softly around Han Sua's ear, then dropped, spent.

The reason?

Wasn't it obvious?

She was sitting through class half asleep. And in the infirmary, that….

….

…Mm.

Anyway.

Right now, even keeping her eyes open was a trial.

"……."

Thirty minutes since the lesson had started, and Han Sua still hadn't managed a single character in the notebook lying open in front of her. Far from stuffing the lecture into her head and setting her hand to work, she was only nodding along, dipping in and out of a doze. Even on an ordinary day her focus during note-taking class was frankly pathetic, but today was worse. Other thoughts kept circling.

Kneeling in front of the infirmary bed since morning and sucking his c— his cock. Wedging it between her breasts because she'd offered a paizuri. And in the end, that… bent over the bed….

…Aaaagh.

Why? Why did I do that?

Had she gone briefly insane from watching too much porn at dawn? Had she been flickering back and forth between dream and reality?

"……."

…The dirty stuff had felt good, though….

"……."

It had felt good, but—!

Not even twenty-four hours since she'd nailed it down — you and I are only sex partners; we are not having sex — and then, somewhere Yojora wasn't, condom on, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in some animal position, pounding away….

Tw— was it twice….

Or three….

No, no, was it four?

Anyway. They had… mated.

"…Nnh…."

Just then, someone poked a mechanical pencil, light and precise, into the forearm Han Sua had left lying undefended. Sharp enough to tug her out of sleep. Not sharp enough to startle her. A very particular degree of jab.

Of course it was Yojora, sitting right beside her and snickering.

Han Sua glanced sideways and started grinding the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heels of both palms into her eyes. It didn't chase the exhaustion off in the slightest, but a reaction of about this size was the minimum courtesy. And yesterday she had sworn, so firmly, that she would not have sex — and then gone and done it at once. Her cheeks were hot with the shame of it.

She scratched the thanks into a blank stretch of Yojora's notes, and Yojora drew some unidentifiable face underneath it. It might have been nodding. It might have been glaring. Whatever it actually was, no amount of staring made it any clearer.

Something about it looks infuriating….

Han Sua looked back and forth between Yojora's beaming face and the writing, then kept the exchange going in case it might help her wake up. Goofing off in secret during class was always the most fun thing there was. Things you wouldn't spare a glance on an ordinary day somehow turned fascinating the moment they fell under the heading of during class. EBS, the educational channel, for instance. That sort of thing.

Yojora propped her chin on one hand, smiled a small sly smile, and played along with the doodling. Why did a Japanese girl have prettier handwriting than she did? The thought passed through her idly while the pen kept scratching across the page.

Dead on the sore spot. Han Sua tried, somehow, to hide her expression. She could not hide the flicker in her eyes. Yojora stared straight at her face while she failed.

"……."

"……."

In the end, Han Sua was the one who looked away first.

Do you just not have a feeling called shame?

No. No, that wasn't right. This morning, when they'd met in front of the crosswalk, she had definitely been plenty embarrassed. Now, the moment even a tiny thread showed itself, she seemed desperate to drag it into dirty talk….

A pervert. Confirmed. And not just any pervert — a clammy, lurking one, the kind who saved her boyfriend's number under Master.

Han Sua kept sneaking glances at Yojora and, carefully, began to write.

Careful was gone. She started scrawling. Fast.

She had.

She had masturbated imagining Yojora with her face buried in the back of the sofa, doing nothing but pant. She had masturbated imagining the two of them on the bed, tongues tangled, fucking hard. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠She had packed her head tight with the fantasy of what would happen to her if something like that actually went inside her body, and she had masturbated all night long.

Which was exactly why she couldn't admit it. Because… it was humiliating.

When the scratching stopped and she looked down, what she found was Yojora's cute handwriting, agreeing in a slightly wrong way of speaking. Han Sua fretted over what she was supposed to write back, bit her lip, and in the end only looked away.

Between the doodling and the wandering thoughts, first period ended.

"…Haa…."

Behind the two of them, Lee Jiyoon let out a dissatisfied sigh. She was in much the same state.

Secret.

That stubby little two-syllable word was, contrary to how it looked, rather short on the flavor of a flutter. Think about it. The story of waking up as a little kid to find the bedding soaked. The story of digging through your parents' winter clothes in the middle of summer and securing yourself a not-insignificant allowance. The story of cosplaying a perfectly ordinary person at the family home and out in the world, while indulging in full-blown degenerate otaku culture alone in a one-room apartment. All of them deserved the word secret without complaint… and yet they sat closer to suspense, thick with tension, than to anything on friendly terms with a word like thrill. Even if the gist of a pounding heart was roughly the same either way.

There was, however, an easy way to lay a fresh green flutter over the word secret. The method was extremely simple. Tuck the word romance in right behind it, and you were done.

"Got dumped yesterday."

"……."

Right after the rescue-and-first-aid training period ended, the friends sat in their usual circle, and one of them tossed the line out as if it were nothing. The one who took that thrown line square in the chest was none other than Lee Hayun.

She had been sitting in the worst possible posture for her lower back, sucking down banana milk. Exactly as usual. And then she froze where she was.

Fortunately, none of her friends caught the suspicious reaction and traced it, step by step, all the way back to a secret romance. Not because the circle lacked a detective that persistent and that capable, but because they were busy empathizing with the friend who had been dumped yesterday.

"Figured that would happen."

"Same. Oh — didn't we bet money on this?"

"Dunno. Forgot."

"Last time, wasn't he from an all-boys school? A guy who could have perfectly legal uniform sex with a girls'-school student whenever he felt like it — why would he date you?"

"He almost died, his heart pounded, and he mistook it for love."

"Oh, right. The swaying… swaying-tree effect? Anyway, I heard there's a scientific thing like that. Exactly that."

"You fucking bitches…."

"……."

Or not?

Well. Anyway.

Lee Hayun didn't pile on a word of her own. She let it bury itself. Even Jiyoon, whom she had wondered whether she ought to hide it from, knew by now that the two of them were dating. Woojin had never said it flat-out either — don't you ever tell, or you have to tell — nothing that decisive. The feeling was that if Lee Hayun wanted to tell people or not, it didn't much matter to him. So whether she revealed it herself someday, or got caught by a friend in the middle of a date, neither would really cause a problem….

"……."

Maybe because it was the first romance of her life, catching the moment to say it was impossibly hard.

…What do I do.

When on earth was she supposed to tell her friends? Should she just keep hiding it and live like this? But, well… she also kind of wanted to… brag….

Mmm….

Lee Hayun ground the innocent straw between her teeth for no reason at all and hid behind her friend. Fortunately, once again, nobody pointed out the shivering tip of her high ponytail.

"This is why the MBTI craze pisses me off so bad. They say whatever they want and then pull 'sorry, I'm a T.'"

"There's nothing better for talking to someone you've just met, though."

"Right. And isn't this better than forcing yourself to empathize while you do the math in your head?"

"Fair."

"…Anyway, I'm emotionally incapacitated today…."

"Mm. What's next period?"

"Practical. That thing from earlier… rescue."

"Get paired with her and the evaluation's screwed."

Noisy chatter ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over nothing much swelled as it mixed into the noise of the rest of the class. The yawns of people already claiming they were tired did the same. If she said I'm dating the health teacher in a situation like this, she'd get treated like an attention seeker for sure.

Nope. Nope. There'd be a better moment later. She'd let it pass for now.

Or else….

Oh. Right.

What if, on the way home today, she just asked Woojin to walk with her and stuck right to his side? Then tomorrow, if her friends happened to see and asked what her relationship with Woojin was — well, actually, I… this and that….

…Hmm.

Was that… natural?

"……."

…Okay.

She'd start today.

She'd start today.

The resolution arrived together with the bubble she had been blowing, which burst with a pop. Not because she had seen something strange. She had simply messed up.

"Hoo…."

Dismissal. Lee Hayun licked the soda-flavored gum that had stuck lightly to her lips, stuffed both hands deep into the pockets of her fleece, and arrived in front of the Academy Infirmary.

She was, somehow, nervous. Even after texting him a ton for no good reason, and pretending to be hurt at lunch so she could drop by the infirmary and hang around talking with Woojin, she still was. Well, it made sense. Right now she was about to carry out the grand operation of walking home with Woojin, casually letting it show that we're dating, and then getting asked about it!

This required an extremely delicate sense of distance. Linking arms tight enough to make people think are those two dating? — a little embarrassing, wasn't it? And she was the older one. Why would she be the one clinging to his arm? If anyone was linking arms, Seo Woojin ought to be linking hers. Yeah. But if they walked with a wide gap between them, then to anyone watching they would be nothing more than one teacher and one student.

Smoke doesn't rise from a chimney with no fire. First you had to light one. Which meant, well, they did have to be touching, at least a little….

But how much? Close enough that their arms brushed now and then as they walked? Close enough that a small turn of the wrist could catch his fingers? Or just close enough to walk with their hands laced? Should she haul off and demand a piggyback?

…She didn't know.

Lee Hayun blew another bubble, glanced around the quiet hall, and took hold of the door handle. First, walking home with Woojin. Distance and all the rest could wait until after that….

"How long's it been hurting?"

"…Don't remember. Since middle school, maybe."

"That's a long time. No wonder it's hard to treat."

"…Quack."

"Well… I am a quack. I didn't study as hard as the real doctors."

"…Just treat me already. Stop petting my head."

"I have to be touching you, don't I?"

"…Pervert."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Haa…. Dating a pervert like this…. I'm actually worried. For real."

Two voices came through the crack of the door. One was a boy's voice she knew well. The other was a girl's voice she knew just as well — her little sister's. She couldn't really hear the resemblance herself, but people around them said there was a subtle likeness.

"Oh. Noona."

"…? Lee Hayun… ah, no. Unni's here?"

"Yeah. Just now."

"…Hey."

When she pushed her head into the Academy Infirmary, she saw Jiyoon sitting at the bedside with her face pinched. In front of her, Seo Woojin, who had been sitting in a chair with a gentle smile, turned his gaze this way as well. Lee Hayun offered them a light greeting and stepped inside.

"……."

She knew perfectly well that Jiyoon suffered from chronic headaches. She also knew that was why Jiyoon was a little fierce with people, and had no manners to speak of. She knew the two of them had grown quite close over treating those headaches. She knew that Jiyoon, who had never had so much as an ordinary friend, let alone a guy friend, had gotten her first one. She knew they often gamed together now. She knew Seo Woojin had found it absurd that Jiyoon wore the same clothes every single day, gotten frustrated watching it, and tried to buy her new ones.

"Hyah!"

"…Noona, what are you doing."

So she just hugged Seo Woojin tight.

"What does it look like. Showing affection."

"Jiyoon's right there. Why…."

She slipped in between Jiyoon and Woojin. Squeeze.

"Why are you like this over something this small? A hug is fine. …It's not like it's a kiss."

"Every other day you put on that dignified act about being the older one. What's with today? Did lunch not agree with you?"

She almost added that it was payback for the time he had helped her at the convenience store — and swallowed it, afraid Jiyoon, listening right beside them, would worry. She almost said she was jealous, somehow, of how close he and Jiyoon looked — and swallowed it, because it would make her seem small-hearted, like she was having pointless thoughts about her own little sister. She almost said that, actually, she wanted him to pet her all over too — and swallowed it, because she had spent all this time forcing the older-sister act however she could.

Instead—

"…Because I felt like it."

With that, Lee Hayun rubbed her face all over Seo Woojin's solid body. Even close friends didn't get to do this.

"…I take back what I said. Unni's more of a pervert than you are."

"……."

"…That's enough. Come out of there, Lee Hayun. I'm getting treated."

"…Ah, o-okay…."

Because this was something you could do only once you were something like his girlfriend.