Everyday Life (2)

"Why is everything so awkward today...?"

That was the first thing Kim Naeun said the moment we walked into the classroom.

On the way to school, Yeonhee had let slip a rather dangerous remark, and now she was hanging her head toward the floor, too mortified by her own words to look up. I, for my part, had been trudging along in a complete daze, trying to empty my mind of everything.

Even I had to admit it looked strange, the way things between us kept shifting like this in such a short span of time.

But come to think of it... isn't all of this her fault?

I looked at Kim Naeun, who was tilting her head in confusion right in front of me.

Yeonhee saying what she said, the two of us ending up this awkward — wasn't it all because of the girl standing right here?

Of course, in a situation like this, the person who'd told her to do it was at fault too. But how was I supposed to blame my own girlfriend? Those words had come from a kind heart. She'd only been trying to comfort me.

Which meant the sole culprit in my book was one person: Kim Naeun.

I clenched my fist with my index knuckle sticking out just a little, and rapped her on the crown of the head with it.

"Ow!"

I could almost hear the cartoonish thwack of it landing.

From Kim Naeun's perspective, she'd just come over to say hello and gotten a knuckle to the skull out of nowhere. She was understandably bewildered. The daze lasted only a moment before her face twisted into an expression of pure injustice, and she threw herself at Yeonhee.

"Waaah~ Yeonhee, Juyeong hit me. Punish him~"

Yeonhee looked down at Kim Naeun clinging to her and complaining, then made a face of reluctant discomfort and glanced over at me.

I shook my head firmly — don't indulge her — and Yeonhee gave a small nod of understanding before turning away.

Kim Naeun clearly hadn't expected Yeonhee to treat her like this. She just stared up at her, stunned.

"Yeonhee... got a boyfriend and abandoned her friend..."

Looking like she'd lost everything in the world, her shoulders slumped, Yeonhee led her back to her seat.

I followed and sat down at my own desk, where Kang Hanbyeol, already seated, offered a greeting.

"What are you looking at."

He was the one who'd turned around to look at me, and now he was asking what I was looking at. This guy's morning greetings were a new experience every single day.

"Haaah..."

"What, why are you sighing like the ground's about to swallow you up first thing in the morning?"

"There's a reason."

Kang Hanbyeol looked at me like I was some kind of weirdo, but considering the biggest weirdo in this room was the one giving me that look, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Hey, never mind that. We've got a music performance assessment today, don't we?"

"...What?"

"Fourth period. Music performance assessment. Plus club activities sixth and seventh period."

"How do you know that?"

The guy who slept through every class. No — not just class. This was Kang Hanbyeol, the same person who slept through exam season, even after the test had already started, sitting right in front of me. And he remembered a performance assessment?

"Music performance assessments are fun if you're the one watching."

Saying other people's suffering was the most entertaining thing... what a bastard.

Hearing that, I remembered what today's assessment actually was, and my face scrunched up. No — even without that, music class itself was a nightmare.

The teacher was a woman whose age sat somewhere in the murky middle ground between grandmother and middle-aged auntie. She'd graduated from a vocal performance program, and she used her students as a vehicle for whatever she felt like doing — and her standards were viciously strict. Everyone who'd ever met her had her buried in the lowest circle of hell in their minds. The ones who hadn't met her yet were the only exceptions.

The most representative example: for the first performance assessment, she'd watched an a cappella video on Neotube, been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠deeply moved, and forced the students into groups to perform a cappella. But her eccentricities didn't stop there. If it had just been adding some harmony, nobody would have cared much. Instead, she brought in pop songs structured so that one person inevitably had to be the vocalist. And it wasn't even in the original key. Something about it didn't sit right with her, so she made them sing it a whole key higher. Groups that got stuck with kids who couldn't sing were basically being sent to the slaughter. The ones who'd been assigned as vocalists that time had probably all prayed for that teacher to drop dead.

And today. Today's performance assessment, as far as I remembered, was a singing test. She'd at least given us a heads-up about the scoring beforehand. But I considered a singing test to be a weapon capable of killing a person.

You had to sing in front of the entire class. If you'd memorized the lyrics, you got bonus points. If you hadn't, you could just read them off the screen. But to get a perfect score, you had to stand at the very front, look your classmates in the eye, and sing. She'd said that anyone too embarrassed could turn around and face the wall instead — but there was no way she'd give a perfect score for that. Kids who cared about their grades had no choice but to swallow their shame and sing facing the class.

I don't really need a perfect score, so I could just face the wall.

Not that that would make me any less nervous. And of course she'd gone and picked a pop song for no good reason, which at least made the lyrics easy to memorize.

"You're doing it too, aren't you? Why do you look so happy about it?"

Had he forgotten that he had to do it himself?

"Doesn't bother me. Getting put through it only lasts a minute. Watching it lasts all day."

He was awfully confident for someone who, from what I'd heard, wasn't actually that great a singer. Not bad, but not good either. Just average. And yet this level of swagger. Was this what they called being first-rate?

None of us in our group would have a problem with this assessment. Yeonhee and Kim Naeun both sang well, so no worries there. As for me, I still wasn't sure, but people said I sang well, so I figured I'd take their word for it. Not that any of that would matter if I got nervous and blew it.

"Anyway, never mind that. What's the club doing today?"

"Beats me. Didn't the teacher say she'd watched too many horror movies and we were switching genres this time?"

Good news for Yeonhee. In the last few club sessions, the vote had landed on horror movies every single time, and Yeonhee had been so terrified it was painful just to watch her. Back then we weren't even dating, so I hadn't been able to offer her any real comfort.

The moment I thought I should tell Yeonhee the news, the homeroom teacher slid the front door open and walked in.

I'll tell her in a bit, then.

"Alright! Listen up! I've got something to say about the school trip, so sit down already!"

Today was packed.

"When we go on the school trip, we'll be staying in a hotel. Four to five people per room, so boys with boys, girls with girls. Split yourselves up and have the class president come tell me."

"That's it for morning assembly. Get ready for first period on your own."

As always, he stripped out everything unnecessary, delivered the information cleanly, and vanished.

This is going to be a headache.

Among the guys in our class, the only one I was actually close with was Kang Hanbyeol. It had been a while since I'd been this viscerally reminded that I didn't have any friends.

"Hey, what are you gonna do?"

"Am I in a position to choose? I'll just go with the flow."

"Then I'm picking the groups however I want?"

"Knock yourself out."

I shrugged as I answered. Either way, I wouldn't know who I ended up with, so I didn't know why he was even asking.

"Juyeong, you know we've got a music performance assessment fourth period today, right?"

"Kang Hanbyeol told me this morning."

During the break after first period, I was hearing the same thing I'd already heard that morning, this time from Yeonhee.

"Don't go all out. Just sing it halfheartedly so the other girls don't get any ideas."

"You don't even have to say that. Nobody's going to get any ideas..."

To steal Yeonhee's boyfriend, you'd probably need to bring in someone at celebrity level. And at our school, besides Yeonhee, there was nobody like that. There wasn't even anyone to be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠jealous of, so I had no idea what she was going on about all by herself, muttering beside me.

"Maybe I should leave a mark..."

A mark...?

The word "mark" conjured up nothing but the horrifying image of her biting me. Through her murmuring lips, I caught a glimpse of Yeonhee's even, white teeth. It wouldn't even be the first time she'd bitten me. I knew exactly how much it hurt, which made it all the more terrifying.

"Uh... you don't have to go that far, do you?"

"Yes I do. Do you have any idea what the girls have been saying about you lately?"

Had I gone from being a loser shut-in to just a regular loser?

I was very good at being objective about myself, so I knew exactly how other people saw me. I hadn't actually been a hikikomori, but given how rarely I left the house, I was halfway there.

"Beats me. I wouldn't know."

"Word's getting around that you're actually a pretty decent guy!"

She whispered it, but she enunciated every syllable with force.

That's actually the most favorable reputation I've ever had.

"That's fine, then?"

I thought that was a good thing, so I said as much, but Yeonhee apparently disagreed. She narrowed her eyes at me.

"So you're saying you'll go to some other girl?"

"No, how did you even get there..."

Why was she worrying about something that would never happen in a million years? If anything, I was the one who should be worried. The guys who liked Yeonhee were countless in the past, countless now, and would be countless in the future. I'd have to work even harder just to keep from losing her.

"Then show me proof."

"Proof?"

Should I write up a written pledge and stamp it with my thumbprint?

I'd been scribbling something along those lines on a scrap of paper when Yeonhee leaned over, looked at it, and asked what on earth it was.

"What are you writing right now?"

"You asked for proof, so I was writing a pledge?"

At that, she looked at me with open dissatisfaction. It was the kind of look that seemed to say, How are you this dense?

"Not some ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠scrap of paper. Show me with something else."

Something else...?

If she was going to be that vague about it, I had no idea what she meant. It was harder than any problem I'd solved on the midterms. What could it be? I wrung every last drop of imagination I had.

Ordinary methods probably won't cut it...

And then, for the briefest instant — a thought flashed through my brain, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I acted on it before I could second-guess myself.

A soft peck.

A brief point of contact against the forehead of the girl looking at me.

Yeonhee's eyes flew wide open at the suddenness of it, and she froze completely.

"Is this enough...?"

I asked, but even after a long moment, no answer came back.

And then, a little later—

"Hic."

She started hiccuping.