Signs
Wednesday, June 27, 2029.
The three-day stretch of final exams was over.
"Let's go, Iseor."
"Yeah."
The moment the last exam sheet was collected, Iseor was swept out of the classroom by Hayan's clique. Back when she'd been a boy, there would have been no mystery about where they were dragging her at an hour like this — a dank karaoke basement steeped in the smell of mold, or some deserted back alley where no one would hear. Not anymore. Not so long as those grotesque dark-blue veins were sunk beneath the napes of every student surrounding her.
And so the place they arrived at today was—
"That name I'll never reach —
I swallow it down again todaaay—!"
Somewhere no ordinary middle schooler had any business setting foot. A private party room.
While a large-framed boy stood in the center wringing a high note out of his throat like he was being murdered, a heavily made-up girl turned to Iseor.
"How come you're not singing, Iseor?"
"I just don't know that many songs."
Iseor let a small smile touch her lips. The one who'd spoken was Yoon Miju — the type who usually kept the most indifferent attitude of anyone in Hayan's clique. That didn't mean she'd had nothing to do with the bullying. She'd been an accomplice, after all, the one who stood lookout every time Hayan decided to "play with" Iseor.
"Hmph. Whatever."
Miju let out a listless hum, then took the mic without a second thought and stepped forward. Crossing paths with her, Kang Doheon — still hoarse from shrieking — cleared his throat and dropped back into his seat.
"Your singing's fucking trash."
"Says the guy who doesn't even sing. You try it, asshole. I'm dying up here by myself."
"Can't be bothered."
Doheon's grumbling drifted toward another boy, Yoo Junseo.
Clink.
Iseor took a sip of her fresh fruit juice and quietly surveyed the room.
"Hayan. So about what I mentioned last time..."
"Let's talk about it later, Eunjeong. Exams just ended today. I'm a little tired."
"Ah, yeah... okay."
In one corner, Park Eunjeong had started to bring something up with Hayan, only to trail off, looking awkward. The atmosphere had gone strangely subdued.
A favor?
Iseor's thoughts unspooled from there on their own. Eunjeong's father was the president of a well-known mid-sized company — and that company was a subcontractor of Seongun Electronics, where Hayan's father served as CEO. With the adults bound that way, their daughters were inevitably yoked into the same hierarchy.
The over-the-top narration from some economics YouTube channel she'd once watched still lingered in her ears. And the words she'd swallowed while watching that screen:
If only it had been nothing but light.
That was precisely why Lee Hayan could reign as queen of the school. Her father donated a considerable sum to Hannuri Private Middle and High School every year. Even without that, no one took the Seongun name lightly.
The social structure of this world was a little different from Iseor's previous life. Most notably, the power corporations wielded was conspicuously greater. A mega-corporation ranked within the global top fifty could operate more or less free of any ordinary nation's influence. Of course, that was as far as Iseor's knowledge went. She had neither the understanding nor the means to dig any deeper.
This was also why she had simply endured Hayan's clique and their bullying. And that circumstance hadn't changed even after her body had. No — it couldn't have been allowed to change. Even if the organization observing Iseor was an international body, Seongun had more than enough power to bury most of what happened inside the country's borders.
And yet.
Mother had overturned the entire situation surrounding her overnight — by reaching into none other than Hayan's own mind and shaking it to its foundations. Iseor still didn't know exactly what those veins did. But one thing was certain.
A leash.
These kids, who'd been no different from a pack of young tigers, had been reduced to a pack of dogs on a lead.
"I'm heading out first."
Around the time the clock struck three, Iseor rose from her seat.
"Huh? Why so soon?"
"Stay and hang out a little longer..."
Lee Sujeong and Park Eunjeong clung to her, reluctant to let her go. Iseor offered another vague smile. The way the two of them acted — like puppies gazing up at a departing master — was still thoroughly unfamiliar. If their wills hadn't been crushed under someone else's, she might well have taken her revenge on them to her heart's content. It was Sujeong who'd spread the malicious rumors that isolated Iseor at school, and Eunjeong beside her who'd led the pack when it came to laying hands on her.
"Sorry. I want to get home early and rest."
Iseor shook her head. She just couldn't get comfortable. The atmosphere here, the place itself, the faces around her — all of it was too much.
"Yeah? Well, I guess it can't be helped..."
"See you..."
The two girls waved, looking dejected. Still, things were better now. A few days ago, she would have been held here until the clique finally scattered home in the evening — and of her own will, no less. But now she understood clearly that she no longer needed to.
"Don't cause any trouble, all of you. Go home quietly."
"Okay! Got it!"
"Yeah, get home safe."
That one sentence was enough. She no longer needed to keep watch over them. Unless some exceptional idiot picked a fight, this pack would play nicely and go home like good little children.
"Iseor, I wanna go too. Let's go together."
Hayan, who'd been watching, rose from the sofa. When Iseor paused, Hayan approached as naturally as breathing and slipped her arm through Iseor's. The contact had become something she was fairly numb to by now.
"See you tomorrow."
Leaving behind the kids waving them off at the door, the two of them stepped out of the room.
The heat slammed into them the moment they stepped onto the street. The tail end of June, in full force — and this was the hour when the sun burned hottest. Of course the air was boiling. And the hotter it got, the more Iseor found herself bothered by the temperature of Hayan's body against her arm.
Still so cold.
Ever since that day, a chill had lingered around this girl's body. Warmer than a corpse, but a temperature you could hardly believe belonged to a healthy person. The same was true of the other kids in the clique.
Should I ask?
Mother was the one who'd made them this way. She would naturally know the cause as well.
No. Forget it.
Iseor gave a small shake of her head. Even if she knew the truth, what could she possibly do about it? She'd be lucky enough just not to get on Mother's bad side for no reason. More than anything, she had no particular desire to understand these kids' circumstances. She had no urge to get even — and even less of an urge to grow attached.
"Want to get some ice cream on the way? Not a lot — just a little, okay?"
"Sure. Sounds good."
Hayan's cautious suggestion. Led by her hand, Iseor followed her into the shop.
"This one and this one, and that one over there, and that. In a cup, please."
Hayan picked four flavors from a display of thirty-one colorful ice creams, then tapped her phone to the register and finished paying. The whole sequence flowed as naturally as water.
...This is a little uncomfortable.
These days, Iseor was always the one being treated. In truth, she'd grown fairly used to this too — used enough, at least, not to actively push it away. The first time it happened, she'd opened her wallet, determined to pay her own share no matter what. But Hayan had adamantly stopped her.
Of course, that alone wouldn't have been enough for Iseor to let this abnormal relationship stand. There had been another reason. One day, uncomfortable with being on the receiving end of one-sided kindness, Iseor had insisted on paying.
Hayan had crumpled into a corner for the entire day, with a face like the world had ended. Faced with that look of a loyal dog abandoned by its master, Iseor had finally thrown up her hands. After all, the Hayan of now was behaving as if she truly, desperately loved Iseor.
"How is it?"
"Yeah. It's nutty."
Iseor gave a quiet nod. Her face was indifferent on the surface — and yet satisfaction bloomed in Hayan's eyes. She'd noticed that, contrary to her tone, Iseor's mood had lifted. You could tell just from the fact that she'd set down the smartphone she never usually let go of.
It really is delicious, though...
The girl muttered inwardly, the teaspoon still between her lips. Ever since becoming a girl, Iseor had been gradually developing a taste for sweets. The sweetness of almond, chocolate fudge, and vanilla all mixed together was more than enough to make her forget the guilt and the discomfort, if only for a moment.
She quietly touched her flat stomach. It's weird, though. Her expressionless head tilted to one side. She'd just come from eating pizza in the party room, after all — and yet the ice cream was sliding right into this little stomach. If anything, she was eating more these days than she had as a boy. People said girls had a separate stomach just for dessert. Maybe this was what they meant.
Hayan's low-heeled shoes and Iseor's sneakers took turns against the sidewalk, one pair clicking, the other scuffing. The street was fairly noisy. Students from nearby schools whose finals had just ended — Hannuri Middle School among them — were pouring out in clusters of twos and threes, roaming the streets in high spirits. Iseor took in that lively scene, slowly, carefully.
I never would have been able to do this before.
The luxury of feeling liberated because exams were over would have been unthinkable. The moment tests ended, she would have been grading herself, then going home to wait for whatever "Mom" decided to dole out. Which was why the liveliness of this street felt so unfamiliar.
"Oh, that reminds me, Iseor. Did you watch the news this morning?"
Hayan, who'd been chattering away, suddenly lowered her voice as if something had just occurred to her.
"The news? What about it?"
Iseor shook her head. Lately she'd been sleeping quite a bit more. She woke up at just the right moment — after eating, washing, changing, and finishing her basic makeup, school time was already right on top of her. In the end, there was no time left to turn on the television or check the news online.
"Something scary's been happening in the residential areas these past few days. So you need to be careful too, Iseor. You're so small and light — if some bad guy decided to just scoop you up, you'd get kidnapped just like that."
"What's that supposed to mean."
At Hayan's fussing, Iseor let out a faint laugh despite herself. Then a fragment of what she'd said snagged her attention.
"But — something scary?"
"People are disappearing, apparently."
Iseor's sneakers came to a halt.
"...Disappearing?"
"Yeah. Without a trace. The National Police Agency already put together an investigation team, so they'll catch the culprit soon enough, but still... it's scary, you know..."
Hayan continued with a grave expression, but her voice no longer reached Iseor's ears. Deep in her mind, a pair of crimson eyes flashed past. Despite the sweltering weather, a bone-deep chill crawled up her spine.
It can't be.
The thought only grew. Had Mother begun to feel a deeper hunger? Or had she, for some other reason, started swallowing even more people? The suspicion, once it bloomed, quickly became terror. She couldn't possibly just stand there.
"I— I'm going ahea— ngh."
The step she took forward. Something large blocked her vision. She tried to dodge, but she was a step too late.
Thud.
Her small body collided with a solid chest.
"Ah, fuck."
A rough curse poured down from above her head. Iseor lifted her gaze and several guys came into view. At a glance, they looked like a group of high schoolers.
"Hey, where the hell were you looking?"
The brown-haired boy at the front snapped irritably. The front of his rumpled shirt was staining brown. Cold sweat ran down Iseor's back. If Hayan's clique were little demons wearing the skins of ordinary students, this bunch were openly, unmistakably thugs.
"I just bought this shirt. What are you gonna do about it? Huh? Hey, what the fuck are you gonna do about it, you bitch."
The brown-haired boy jerked his chin up threateningly and took a step closer. His friends followed behind him, their shadows falling over the girls. They didn't look like they were going to back down easily.
"Hayan. I'm fine. I really am."
But Iseor tightly gripped the arm of the girl standing beside her. The thugs in front of her were the last thing she needed to worry about right now.
"Iseor..."
Wavy light-brown hair hanging down toward the ground. From beneath it, a seething voice leaked out. Iseor's gaze locked onto the back of Hayan's head — that long hair falling all the way down her back. Because from deep within it, a faint light was seeping through.
A flash.
A single crimson eye was staring straight at Iseor.