0. The Entrance Exam

…When I opened my eyes, a transparent wall stretched out before me.

It was made of reinforced glass—the kind of wall that no ordinary person could ever hope to break.

I walked forward and slowly reached out, pressing my palm against it.

The girl reflected in the glass was terribly small.

And she looked terribly pitiful, too.

Wounds and bandages caked her body from head to toe. The pupils of her tear-streaked eyes flickered between vertical slits and horizontal ones, over and over. The only thing she wore was a clean white dress, and beyond the wall, a crowd of people stared at her with blank, expressionless faces.

That's right. This is a dream.

I'm dreaming that nightmare of the laboratory again—the one I escaped from years ago. I'm reliving those terrible memories all over again.

I slowly pulled my hand away from the wall and sank down onto the floor.

Once I'd recognized it as a dream, there was nothing left to be afraid of. I've had this dream so many times by now that I know exactly how it plays out. Which experiment this is, which researcher is in charge of it—I've memorized every detail.

Wasn't it said that fear comes from the unknown?

So there was no need to be scared anymore. Any moment now, Aunt Ailee would come in and give me that painful injection. Then I'd take it, writhe in agony, and wake up from the dream.

And that's exactly what happened.

"Hello there, little miss. It's me—big Sister Ailee."

"…Hello, Sister."

"Now, you have to take your shot today too, you know? If you refuse, I'll have no choice but to give you an even more painful one."

"…"

I slowly extended my arm toward Aunt Ailee. The moment the needle went into my wrist, I would wake up.

…I could only hope.

"…!"

The moment Aunt Ailee injected the drug, the veins along one arm bulged violently.

I tried my best to force a smile as I endured the pain. But I couldn't bear it. Every time the blood flowed, it felt as if needles were shredding my veins to ribbons. Every breath made my lungs scream, until I wished I could simply stop breathing. My eyes burned as if they were being torn from their sockets, and cold sweat poured down my whole body from the agony.

And then, just as I lost consciousness—

"…Ugh, khh—!"

I shot up in bed, clutching my chest. Because I'd slept in quite late today, the pain hit much harder than usual. Normally, I wake up the instant the needle goes in—which is why my blanket and sheets weren't usually soaked through with cold sweat.

But I'd woken too late today, and it had turned into a whole ordeal from the crack of dawn.

I let out a long, deep sigh, then peeled the sweat-drenched blanket and sheets off the bed. Times like this, I couldn't quite believe I was a snake beastkin. Snakes are reptiles; they don't sweat. No snake ever wakes up drenched in cold sweat from a nightmare.

After grumbling about it for a moment, I rolled up the blanket and sheets, checked the clock, and headed out of the room.

"…You're up early? What's gotten into you, hm. Did you have another nightmare?"

"Yeah. Aunt Ailee showed up."

"I see. It must have run long today, then?"

"Sorry. It's not like I can help it, though. It happens three or four times a week."

I mumbled a small complaint and walked out to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠veranda, stuffed the blanket and sheets into the washing machine, added detergent, and started the cycle. Normally I'd have just tossed them in the basket, but thanks to the nightmare I was up early enough to run a load of laundry before leaving.

By the time I came back from setting the machine going, Aunt Ailee was waiting with a health checkup kit in hand.

I studied her for a moment. Back in my days as a test subject, I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could swear her blonde hair was vivid and her face unlined. Ten years, it seemed, was what it took for the title of "Sister" to become "Aunt."

"Is there something on my face?"

"No. Nothing at all."

"I see. Now, it was your left arm yesterday, yes?"

"Yeah."

I held out my right arm. Aunt Ailee tied it off and began preparing to draw blood, and then came the ritual question she asked every single morning.

"No trouble manifesting your serpentine traits?"

"Nope."

"Good. And the schizophrenia—it's improved a little?"

"Auntie, honestly. I keep telling you, that's not a thing anymore."

"I ask because it worries me. Today's your academy entrance exam, after all."

"Do you ever display excessive violent tendencies? No. There, satisfied?"

"Still cutting off my last question, I see."

I just smiled.

As long as I didn't manifest deliberately, I was practically human—but that hardly mattered. I wasn't schizophrenic; I was reincarnated—but that hardly mattered either. I strained with all my might to suppress my violent urges—but that, too, wouldn't matter in the end. What mattered was that I had spent ten long years successfully adapting to society.

So I stared at the syringe, praying the blood would hurry up and be drawn. Just like Aunt Ailee said—today was the day of the academy entrance exam. I wanted to get ready quickly, arrive early, and adjust to the temperature before anything else.

When she finished drawing blood, Aunt Ailee did exactly what she'd done ten years ago: wiped the wound with an alcohol swab and pressed on a cartoon character bandage.

I rubbed at the bandage and grumbled. It wasn't one of my favorite characters. It was one of the ones I merely tolerated.

"It's waterproof, so shower as long as you like…"

"Okay."

"I'll warm up breakfast while you shower. Big meal today—you'll need it. Understood?"

"Thank you."

"…And Yeji. Lee Yeji."

"Yes, Auntie?"

"If your manifestation fails, or any other side effects show up, you tell me. Anytime. Do you hear me?"

"…Did you prepare the medication?"

"Only ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠if you need it."

"Honestly, I keep telling you, there's no need."

I heaved sigh after sigh. I understood it was a drug I'd needed regularly for ten years, administered whenever necessary. But the cost was a bit steep for my aunt and uncles' salaries to cover. And more than that, the me of today didn't want to lean on something like that.

…If a situation truly came up ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where I needed it, I could always ask her to make it then.

"I'm going to shower. Warm up the food, please."

"Of course."

"Waah—my clothes. I forgot to bring my clothes in."

"I figured you'd shower, so I set them out in the bathroom cabinet ahead of time."

"Oh—Auntie. Thank you."

I hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it. The tension was finally beginning to drain, and drowsiness was starting to creep up on me. And when I was in this state, the surest way to wake up was a good scrub.

An ordinary person would have gone for cold water, but I couldn't. When my body gets cold, my strength drains away—so it had to be hot water to shake off the sleep.

I set the water running hot, and while I waited, I looked at myself in the mirror.

I didn't need to cry anymore. I didn't need to invent imaginary friends to get through it anymore. But still, looking in the mirror never failed to lift my spirits.

I gazed at my pink eyes for a while, blinked, and switched my pupils from one shape to the other. I stuck out an ordinary tongue, then a snake's. And finally, I tried to gauge my chest size—before giving up entirely.

"Seriously, everything I eat seems to go straight there."

Every time they grew, the other aunts teased me, and it did get a little irritating. My shoulders felt strained, people's gazes lingered, and the whole reason I dressed like a delinquent on purpose was because of this. I had to look like touching me would end badly just to walk down the street in peace.

What a wretched life, honestly.

"Well, maybe it's all just because I'm pretty."

Having thrown out that little joke, I got straight to washing. I washed my face in the hot water, showered, shampooed my hair, then compulsively grabbed a big towel and dried myself off. Then I changed inside the bathroom and stepped out.

"Auntie, should I put my clothes in the basket?"

"No, leave it. It's an important day today. Forget all that—eat and get going."

"Okay, will do."

I sat down at the table and finished towel-drying my hair, then hung the towel over a chair and started eating.

This was the beauty of a bob cut. Years ago I'd kept it long, and every shampoo session took forever.

"What's this, Auntie? I thought you said you weren't good at Korean food?"

"I learned from the other aunts and uncles. Did you think being an aunt meant I could only cook Western food?"

"Well, you are American, Aunt Ailee. Wouldn't be strange if you only knew Western cuisine."

"Honest to goodness. Well, how is it?"

"Delicious."

Spicy stir-fried pork with soybean paste stew. Kimchi and seasoned bean sprouts, with a bowl of rice to top it off. Food I'd loved in my previous life, too—it couldn't possibly taste bad. So I chewed every last grain of rice thoroughly, then brushed my teeth with hot water. And while I was at it, I tossed the clothes I'd changed out of into the basket as well.

I heard Aunt Ailee say something, but I boldly ignored it. She wasn't getting any younger, after all—she shouldn't overexert herself.

Once I'd finished brushing, I went to my room and pulled out the school uniform I'd bought a few days ago. Truly, I never imagined I'd live to wear a school uniform twice in one lifetime. It really did make me think you have to live long to see everything in this world.

"Hmm. It is short, just as I thought."

The color scheme wasn't bad. Black, purple, and white dominated the design, giving it a sleek, stylish look. But the skirt seemed quite short. Well, I'd already gotten used to that from dressing like a delinquent all the time…

"Are school uniforms really allowed to be this short?"

I hissed softly through my tongue as I grumbled. Surely there'd be more than a few embarrassed girls among the students taking the entrance exam today. Since I had no such problem, I got dressed quickly. Skirt, blouse, ribbon, cardigan—once everything was on, I held my figure up to the mirror.

"You look beautiful, my daughter."

"Oh? Coming from a woman with an eye as good as yours, that's reassuring."

"Aren't you wearing your earrings and headband?"

"It's the entrance exam. I'll decide after I check the school rules."

"And this. You must take this with you."

"This is…"

I stared at the pills Aunt Ailee held out, my expression souring. These were the narcotic analgesics.

I forced myself to smile as I spoke.

"Auntie, honestly. Do you think I go berserk every time I manifest, like I did back then?"

"You never know. Don't go writhing on the floor in pain—take a few with you, just in case."

"Aren't you treating me like a little kid?"

"In my eyes, Yeji, you'll always be a little girl seven years younger than you are."

"…Well, then there's nothing I can do about it. Fine, I'll take them."

I smiled for her. And inside, I kicked myself. Kicked the weak version of me that had flinched at those words—a little girl seven years younger.

Didn't I already decide to bury the past and move on? So there was no need to bring it up again.

So I fixed my expression, gathered my phone and wallet, and headed for the front door.

"I'm off."

"Come back safe. I'll be hoping for good news."

"Don't worry. I'm my aunt's greatest masterpiece, after all."

With those words, I stepped out of the house with a light, springy step. I ignored the dark expression that crossed Aunt Ailee's face as I left.

After all—I had already forgiven her, long ago.