The Young Lady's Predicament (2)
I took a small, steadying breath as I stared at the nameplate marked 1-D.
My heart was hammering, nothing like the bold promises I had made to Su-ryeon the day before. Being bullied was painful no matter how many times you went through it, and once the fire truly caught, the attacks would come without mercy—during class, during breaks, it would not matter. Familiarity with the situation did not mean I was numb to the pain. Without preparing myself now, I would never hold out.
After several more deep breaths, I carefully opened the door and waited a moment. Fortunately, nothing dropped from above. Perhaps they had decided such a crude trap was beneath a proper young lady—or perhaps they were preparing something else entirely. Hiding the flicker of fear deep inside, I walked with my back straight and found my seat.
“Ah—ah… M-Miss Yu Ha-eun. G-good morning…!”
“Yes, Miss Shin So-hye. I hope you are well?”
“Y-yes…!”
Shin So-hye had been curled in on herself in the seat beside mine. When I answered her greeting with a smile, she flushed faintly and ducked her head. Leaving the timid girl alone, I slowly surveyed the room.
As expected of a school for young ladies, the seats were already full even though morning assembly was still a long way off. The only empty desk belonged to Yoon Seo-a.
Perhaps that was why the girls who had been in her circle yesterday only stole a single glance at me, neither cursing nor coming over to harass me. They merely whispered among themselves.
Hmm. So the real show begins once Yoon Seo-a arrives.
The thought had barely formed when the closed rear door slid open again with a soft shhhk. Every pair of eyes that had been chatting among themselves swung toward it at once. Of course they did—only one person was left who would enter through the back.
“Lady Yoon Seo-a!”
Lady Yoon Seo-a? I stared at the girls shouting in welcome, dumbfounded. At Acacia Academy the basic rule of mutual respect was to attach “Miss” after a name. “Lady,” by contrast, was reserved strictly for superiors—upperclassmen or key figures of some faction. For more than ten young ladies, not just one or two, to call her “Lady Yoon Seo-a” could mean only one thing: she had been elevated as the head of a faction.
In other words, a single day after the entrance ceremony, Yoon Seo-a had already turned most of Class 1-D into her followers. And those followers now regarded her as the de facto leader of the class.
A quick sweep of the room confirmed it. Everyone except Shin So-hye and me was answering her call. That meant the two of us were isolated. Here, Yoon Seo-a was king. Whatever the king decided, the followers would obey.
This might get bigger than I thought.
While that realization settled, Yoon Seo-a was already standing before my desk.
“I trust last night was peaceful, Miss Ha-eun?”
The greeting came wrapped in a smile and a cordial tone, yet I was not so dense as to miss the sharp thorns hidden inside it. I closed my eyes once, slowly, then opened them again and answered with a matching smile.
“Yes. Thanks to you.”
“I could tell even from your back how tense you were. But try not to be too frightened? We haven’t even started yet.”
With that, she tapped my shoulder lightly with her folded fan and returned to her own seat. The girls who had been chattering among themselves immediately swarmed over to her and began twittering again.
“A-are you all right, Miss Yu Ha-eun…?”
Once Yoon Seo-a had left and I remained still, Shin So-hye—still trembling in the next seat—asked carefully.
All right? I was not all right at all. Even a rough calculation made it obvious that something serious was about to hit me. The atmosphere said so, and Yoon Seo-a herself was not bothering to hide her intentions.
But fear was no reason to show fear. Hyenas were already eyeing my throat; turning my back would only be an invitation to be torn apart. I forced the frozen corners of my mouth upward and offered Shin So-hye a smile.
“Thank you for worrying, Miss Shin So-hye. But I’m fine.”
“R-really…?”
“Of course.”
Fine or not, Yoon Seo-a herself had said it had not even begun. I answered while deliberately ignoring the chill spreading through my chest. Still, I could not unclench the hand that had seized the hem of my skirt beneath the desk.
Fear does not vanish simply because you look away from it. All I could do was take another deep breath.
Yet for all that fear, Yoon Seo-a made no move against me throughout the morning classes. Whether she was wary of the teachers or had some other plan, I could not tell, but from the third period onward I managed to stop trembling and concentrate on the lessons to some degree.
The structure of classes at Acacia Academy was simple. Mornings covered etiquette and the proper mindset of a young lady; afternoons were free for students to register for electives of their choice. Freshmen, however, could not yet choose their own afternoon classes. They were divided into groups of five and assigned whatever the Senior Officers had decided.
My afternoon class today was calligraphy. Beautiful handwriting was supposedly part of a lady’s accomplishments. The one mercy was that I had not been placed in the same group as Yoon Seo-a, so I would not have to face her in the afternoon.
“Hiee…”
Shin So-hye, of course, was not so lucky. Groups had been formed by seating rows, so she was naturally assigned to the same class as Yoon Seo-a. Hang in there for me. I silently offered a prayer for her as the bell rang, signaling the end of the last morning period. The teacher finished the lesson and disappeared through the front door. I was just about to rise when, in the blink of an eye, a human wall formed around my desk. I froze halfway up, then sat back down.
Even if they were all beautiful girls, having so many of them staring at me from arm’s length made my shoulders hunch of their own accord. I refused to show it. Chin tucked, spine straight, I held a composed posture until the wall parted and Yoon Seo-a stepped forward.
“Miss Ha-eun, are you heading to lunch?”
“...I should. It’s lunchtime, after all.”
“Perfect timing! I reserved a lovely place so the young ladies of our class could foster some camaraderie.”
She glanced around as if seeking agreement, and the others chorused, “Yes!” “Of course!” Looking thoroughly pleased by the response, Yoon Seo-a smiled down at me.
“Naturally, you’ll be joining us, won’t you, Miss Ha-eun?”
Would I go? The refusal rose all the way to my throat. It was obvious she planned to torment me thoroughly somewhere out of sight; only a madwoman would agree. But the atmosphere made it clear that even if I refused, they would drag me along by force. That would look even worse—and if word somehow reached Su-ryeon, she would worry herself sick.
Decision made, then. I blinked once and painted on a smile of my own.
“When Miss Yoon Seo-a herself extends the invitation, of course I must go.”
“Shall we, then?”
“Yes, let’s.”
I rose without a moment’s hesitation—and met Shin So-hye’s eyes. She was flustered, not knowing what to do with herself. So she had still been in the classroom. She should have left before she drew attention.
“Ah, shall I invite Miss Shin So-hye as well?”
Yoon Seo-a must have noticed her too; she murmured the question almost in my ear.
“Well… that decision belongs to you, Miss Yoon Seo-a.”
I answered vaguely instead of giving a clear reply. If I said not to bring her, it might look as though I were protecting her. The opposite was just as bad: asking to bring along a girl who clearly intended to torment me would make it seem I was dragging someone else down simply because I did not want to die alone. So I could only speak this way—do whatever you like, it makes no difference to me—with deliberate indifference.
Yoon Seo-a let out a soft “Hmm,” then snapped her fan open with a crisp shhk and covered her mouth.
“Well, there’s no need for a half-baked young lady like that. Someone who never acts on her own judgment and only watches everyone else’s faces.”
In that regard, you’re a little better. She gave me a smiling glance and started walking. I looked at the human wall surrounding me, then followed in her wake.
“Ah, Ha-eun…”
In the corridor stood Su-ryeon. She had probably come to eat lunch with me. Instead of answering, I winked one eye, signaling her not to worry. Even that playful gesture could not erase the worry filling her face. Fair enough—if a friend who had just told me she expected to be bullied was being escorted off somewhere by a crowd, I would worry too. Still, fretting would not change reality. Under the gathering stares I paid extra attention to my posture, so that to any onlooker it might look as though these girls were escorting me rather than herding me.
After walking for some time, Yoon Seo-a led us out of the academy and into a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of the commercial district. Chinese cuisine? For young ladies whose image was all black tea and cake, wasn’t that a bit heavy? Whether I thought so or not, Yoon Seo-a and her followers walked in as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Caught in the middle, I was pushed inside as well.
The interior was deserted. For a place to be this quiet at lunchtime meant either the food was truly terrible or the entire restaurant had been reserved. Obviously it was the latter. Even if the goal was to torment me, no one would go all the way to a restaurant that tasted bad.
“Chef, is everything I reserved ready?”
“Yes, miss. Everything you requested has been prepared.”
“Including ‘that’?”
“Of course. Had I been unable to obtain it, I would not have contacted you.”
“Good.”
What is ‘that’? A faint unease stirred as I listened to the exchange between Yoon Seo-a and the middle-aged woman addressed as chef. Whatever it was, I had the sinking feeling I would be the one eating it. With that anxiety, I took my seat. Yoon Seo-a sat opposite me with a bright smile, and her followers arranged themselves around the two of us.
The moment everyone was seated, dishes began to appear one after another as if they had been waiting. Not the jajangmyeon or jjamppong one usually associated with Chinese restaurants, but everything from Dongpo pork to an entire steamed crab of some unknown name—an array of colorful dishes covered the table. All of them, however, were placed in front of Yoon Seo-a or her followers. Nothing appeared before me. Surely they did not expect me to simply watch them eat. While I quietly watched her and turned the possibilities over in my mind, she smiled and spoke.
“Today I’ve prepared a very special dish just for you, Miss Ha-eun.”
“A special dish.”
“Yes. It was extremely difficult to obtain. So please, eat every last bite?”
The instant her words ended, a single dish was set in front of me. The moment I saw it, a scream nearly tore free; I barely managed to hold it back. Hiding the contortion of my face, however, proved impossible.
“It’s called monkey brain—a very famous dish in China. It even appeared on the imperial table of the Qing Dynasty.”
Qing Dynasty emperor or not, how was I supposed to eat this? With a bloodless face I stared at the monkey whose skull had been opened.