Infinite Mana (1)
Hanbit Elementary School, 2nd grade, Class 3, Attendance Number 24. Han Heerin. Heerin had become quite popular among her classmates lately.
“Heerin! Show us the cat! The cat!”
All thanks to Heemang’s 4K fancam videos. Even ordinary cat footage would’ve earned her some popularity—Heemang was genuinely adorable, after all. But a cat that actually listened, performed tricks, and even acted cute? Asking elementary school kids not to fall for that level of charm was asking far too much.
“Hehe~ Look at this! I filmed it yesterday!”
Heerin didn’t hold back when sharing Heemang’s videos with her friends. She genuinely enjoyed letting everyone see just how cute he was.
— Heemang, sit! Paw!
In the video, Heemang followed Heerin’s commands like a well-trained puppy, planting his rear on the ground and placing his front paw in her hand. His eyes sparkled as he stared straight into the lens, almost as if he understood he was being filmed.
“Whoa. Is that really a cat? My cat at home doesn’t even look at me when I talk to him.”
“Right? Isn’t our Heemang amazing? Now watch this—something even cooler’s coming up!”
At Heerin’s words, the kids leaned in with growing anticipation. It had already been impressive so far—what could be even better?
— Heemang! Backflip!
— Meow!
Heemang leaped into the air, flipped once, and landed perfectly.
“Huh? Huhhh?”
“What was that?! Show it again!”
“That’s not AI, right?”
The reactions were explosive. A cat doing backflips? The children replayed the scene over and over. When the kids who’d seen the video started making a fuss, even the ones who hadn’t been interested wandered over out of curiosity. By the time recess ended and the homeroom teacher began class, they were still looping the same clip.
‘Hehe. Heemang really is incredible!’
Heerin spent the entire class replaying her classmates’ cheers in her head, feeling delighted. Whenever the lesson grew boring, she found herself wondering what new trick she should teach him next.
Finally, the last class ended, and the homeroom teacher’s brief announcement time began.
“Alright, everyone quiet down!”
The children were still at an age where the teacher’s word was law. They fell silent as if struck dumb. In another year or two, they’d probably stop listening altogether. The teacher smiled wryly at the inevitable future and began handing out the school newsletter.
“Everyone got one? This is about next week’s parent observation class, so make sure to show it to your parents and check if they can come!”
“……”
Heerin’s excitement—previously occupied with thinking up new tricks for Heemang—plummeted in an instant. Her parents had been extremely busy lately. They’d always been busy, really. She barely saw them for more than a few hours. They left for work with her in the morning and only returned in time for dinner. On particularly hectic days, they didn’t get home until just before she went to bed. But ever since they’d received that Night Outing Permit, things had gotten worse. Before, they’d at least eaten breakfast together. Now, there were days she didn’t see them at all.
Her parents felt guilty about it. They tried to make up for it by taking her out to eat more often when they had time, increasing her allowance, or buying her popular toys… but that wasn’t what Heerin wanted.
“…Ah. Heerin!”
“Huh? Yeah?”
Lost in thought, Heerin didn’t notice her friend calling until the girl shook her shoulder.
“So? Do you think you can?”
“Huh? Sorry, I was spacing out. What were you saying?”
“Next week’s parent observation class. Can you bring Heemang?”
“Heemang?”
“Yeah! The cat from your videos. He looked so cute! I really want to see him!”
“Uhh… but we’re not supposed to bring pets to school.”
The children’s gazes all turned toward the homeroom teacher, who hadn’t left the classroom yet. With an awkward expression, the teacher said, “That might be a bit difficult…”
“Aww!” The disappointed chorus filled the room. Seeing how genuinely upset they were, the teacher hesitated before adding, “Alright. But only if a parent brings him—and he has to be in a carrier.”
“A carrier?”
“You know, those big boxes people use to carry cats around. Don’t tell me you don’t know that? Dummy!”
“The one calling people dummies is the dummy!”
Even with the extra conditions, the teacher had given permission. The children were already buzzing as if Heemang were right there in front of them. But Heerin couldn’t share their excitement. There was no way her parents could attend the observation class. If a parent had to come, then Heemang couldn’t come either.
Just as she was about to reluctantly explain that her parents probably couldn’t make it—
“Hmph. I bet if we actually saw him, he’d just be a normal cat! You probably filmed a bunch of videos and only showed the good ones.”
It was one of the kids who’d been quietly jealous of Heerin’s sudden popularity. Heerin snapped back, “No way! Our Heemang really is amazing!”
“Then bring him! You’ll probably just make up some excuse about why you can’t anyway!”
“I will! I’ll bring him!”
The moment the words left her mouth, Heerin realized her mistake. She’d gotten so worked up defending Heemang that she’d spoken without thinking. She tried to backtrack, but—
“Now, now, children. No fighting.”
The homeroom teacher had chosen that exact moment to intervene, and the chance to correct herself slipped away.
“Whoa! Did you hear that? Heerin said she’s bringing the cat!”
The already excited children grew even louder. Their cheers didn’t die down until the teacher managed to calm them. Through it all, Heerin sat frozen, caught between a rock and a hard place.
……
“…That’s what happened.”
“No wonder you were so quiet today.”
After school, Heerin came to find Serpina like always. She’d seemed unusually subdued, so Serpina had worried something serious had happened—but thankfully, it wasn’t anything major. At least, not from Serpina’s perspective. To Heerin, it was very important. For an elementary schooler, classmates were second only to parents in importance.
“Well. You brought it on yourself. It’ll work out somehow.”
Serpina spoke as if it were someone else’s problem—which, technically, it was. Her cardboard house still hadn’t been repaired after the magic beast cat had half-destroyed it last time. She’d cleared away the broken and crumpled parts, but finding new materials to patch it up was proving difficult. It wasn’t like Heerin was buying cardboard for her, after all.
“You’re only saying that because it’s not your problem…”
For a split second, an idea struck Heerin like lightning. If Serpina was being indifferent because it wasn’t her problem, then why not make it her problem?
Heerin felt a chill at her own terrifying scheme.
“Big Sis! Can’t you bring Heemang instead of Mom and Dad? The teacher said another guardian is fine if the parents are busy!”
“Why should I? It’s a pain.”
And just like that, Heerin’s terrifying scheme was crushed before it even began.
“Ehh? Why? You don’t have anything else to do anyway!”
“Listen to this kid. You can’t say stuff like that to other people, you know? You’ll hurt their feelings.”
“Uuu…”
Heerin deflated. Heemang, noticing the toy in her hand had stopped moving, tilted his head and looked up at her.
“If you don’t want to, then… I guess there’s no helping it…”
With that, Heerin sadly stroked Heemang’s back.
“……”
Serpina didn’t like the sight. Giving up so easily just because someone said no didn’t sit right with her. If she was going to act like a kid, she should at least throw a tantrum or something. Not full-on crying and rolling on the floor, but giving up this easily just wasn’t very kid-like.
“…Ah, seriously.”
Serpina clenched her fist. The convenience store triangle kimbap wrapper crumpled with a crinkling sound. She tossed it into a nearby trash can already overflowing with identical wrappers.
“Fine. Fine, so stop making that voice.”
“Really?!”
Heerin’s head shot up, eyes sparkling. Heemang, suddenly squeezed from behind, let out a small yelp.
“Really, really! You promised!”
“I said I got it.”
Serpina lightly pushed Heerin’s head away as the girl tried to tackle her in a hug. Still, being liked this much wasn’t the worst feeling.
The problem arose that very night.
“You’re going to an elementary school next week?”
“Yeah. That’s how it turned out.”
She’d told Ayoung, who’d come to visit again tonight, about her plans for next week. Ayoung looked Serpina up and down and said, “Um… Senior. Just in case, I have to ask—are you planning to go in that outfit?”
“Outfit? What’s wrong with—hmm.”
Serpina had been about to brush it off, but when she glanced down at herself, she fell silent. Honestly, even she had to admit it wasn’t exactly presentable. She didn’t care what other people thought, but she was going as Heerin’s guardian, after all.
“Don’t worry! I know a great place! I’ll go right now and get you one outfit—no, five outfits tailored!”
“This is such a pain. Maybe I should just say I’m not going…”