episode_0118

.

Tap, tap.

The dry sound of a whiteboard marker tapping against the surface lingers in Han Sua’s ears before fading away.

“Urban crimes always carry the risk of building collapses, so…”

The teacher’s voice, rising above the sound of the marker, is no different.

The soft achoo! of a friend sneezing and wiping under their nose is no different.

The chirping of sparrows outside the window, chattering away in some incomprehensible conversation, is no different.

All those sounds swirl gently around Han Sua’s ears before weakly dissipating.

Why?

Isn’t it obvious?

Because she’s half-asleep in class.

And besides, after what happened in the infirmary earlier…

…

…Hm.

Anyway.

Right now, even keeping her eyes open feels like a chore.

“…….”

Thirty minutes into the lesson.

Han Sua hasn’t managed to write a single word in her open notebook.

Far from actively cramming the lecture into her head and moving her hand, she just nods off repeatedly, her head bobbing up and down.

…Well, to be fair, even when she’s fully awake, her focus during note-taking is abysmal—but today is especially bad.

Random thoughts keep swirling in her head.

Like how, since this morning, she’s been kneeling in front of the infirmary bed, suck—no, cleaning something.

Or how, under the pretense of giving a physical, she wedged it between her own—

And then, in the end, she… ended up face-down on the bed…

…Ugh.

Why? Why did I do that?

Did watching too much porn last night make me lose my mind for a second?

Did I mix up dreams and reality?

“…….”

…It did feel good, though…

“…….”

It did feel good, but—!

We’re just sex partners, and it hasn’t even been 24 hours since I firmly declared we wouldn’t have sex—

Yet there I was, in a place where Yozora wasn’t, wearing a condom, going at it like animals in some beastly position—

T-two times…?

Three…?

No, no, was it four?

Anyway,

we mated…

“……Ngh…”

Then—poke—someone lightly jabs Han Sua’s defenseless forearm with a mechanical pencil.

A sting sharp enough to rouse her slightly from sleep, but not enough to startle her—a prick of just the right intensity.

Naturally,

it’s Yozora, sitting right beside her, giggling.

118

Glancing sideways, Han Sua presses the heels of her palms hard against her eyes.

Not that it does anything to relieve her exhaustion, but reacting like this is the bare minimum of courtesy.

…And also, after declaring so firmly that we wouldn’t have sex, we went ahead and did it immediately after.

Her cheeks burn with embarrassment just thinking about it.

—Thanks.

—( ._.)

As Han Sua scribbles a response in the blank space of Yozora’s notebook, Yozora draws an unidentifiable face beneath it.

It looks like it could be nodding or glaring—

…Honestly, no matter how hard she stares, she can’t tell.

‘Looks kinda pissed…’

Alternating between Yozora’s grinning face and the scribbled words, Han Sua decides to write a little more, hoping it might help wake her up.

After all, secretly goofing off during class is the most fun.

Why is it that things you’d never glance at normally suddenly seem so interesting during class?

Like EBS documentaries, for example.

—I’m so sleepy… I seriously can’t follow the lesson at all.

—That’s understandable. I mean, losing sleep isn’t exactly rare.

Yozora, resting her chin on one hand, smiles mischievously as she plays along.

Why does her handwriting look prettier than mine, even though she’s Japanese?

Lost in that thought, Han Sua watches as Yozora’s pen continues scratching across the notebook.

—Did you watch a ton of porn last night or something?

A direct hit.

Han Sua tries to keep her expression neutral,

but she can’t hide the flicker in her eyes.

Yozora stares straight at her.

“…….”

“…….”

In the end, Han Sua is the first to look away.

Do you just… not feel shame?

No, wait—

She was super embarrassed when we ran into each other at the crosswalk this morning.

But now, it’s like the moment she finds the slightest opening, she steers the conversation straight into perverted territory…

Yep. She’s definitely a pervert.

A depraved pervert, the kind who saves her boyfriend’s contact as “Master.”

Stealing glances at Yozora, Han Sua cautiously starts writing again.

—I just didn’t sleep well…

—Why the sudden formal speech? And really?

—Why would I lie about something like this…

—Hmm. You didn’t stay up masturbating, using me and Ujin as material?

Cautiously?

Nope.

She starts scribbling rapidly.

—No? What material? And why are you bringing up masturbation out of nowhere? I’ve never done something that vulgar.

—Hmm. Pretty sure last night on the bed—

—Didn’t happen. Masturbation.

—Hmm.

She did.

Imagining Yozora, face buried in the couch, panting heavily—she masturbated.

Imagining the two of them tangled up on the bed, tongues entwined, fucking relentlessly—she masturbated.

Wondering what would happen if something like that actually entered her body, filling her mind with fantasies until she masturbated all night.

That’s exactly why she can’t admit it.

Because—

…it’s too embarrassing.

—I see. So it didn’t happen.

Once the scratching stops, Han Sua lowers her head to see Yozora’s cute handwriting agreeing in an oddly formal tone.

Unsure how to respond, Han Sua bites her lip and averts her gaze.

And like that, lost in distractions and wandering thoughts, first period ends.

“……Haaah….”

Behind them,

Lee Jiyun exhales a frustrated sigh, feeling much the same.

Secret.

This tiny, two-syllable word is, contrary to appearances, severely lacking in anything resembling excitement.

Think about it.

Stories like “I woke up as a kid and my sheets were wet,”

or “I rummaged through my parents’ winter clothes in the summer and pocketed a decent amount of allowance,”

or “While meticulously maintaining a normal-person facade at home and in public, I secretly indulge in otaku culture in my own apartment”—

Sure, all of these fit the definition of a secret.

But these are closer to suspense-filled tension than anything remotely fluttery.

Even if the underlying “thump-thump” feeling is similar.

That said, there is an easy way to coat this word “secret” with a fresh layer of excitement.

The method is simple:

Just tack on the word “romance.”

“I got dumped yesterday.”

“…….”

Right after first aid training ends.

Amid their usual circle of friends, one girl drops the line casually.

The one struck by those words?

None other than Lee Hayoon.

Sitting in a posture terrible for her back, slurping banana milk through a straw—

Hayoon freezes mid-sip.

Luckily, none of her friends are sharp (or nosy) enough to trace her suspicious reaction back to “secret romance.”

Not that they lack the detective skills—they’re just too busy sympathizing with the dumped friend.

“Yeah, saw that coming.”

“Same. Oh, did we bet money on this?”

“Dunno. Forgot.”

“Last time, wasn’t he like, ‘I’m a high school guy—if I wanted, I could legally have sex with a high school girl in uniform, so why date you?’”

“Probably mistook the adrenaline from nearly dying for love.”

“Oh, right. The… the shaky-tree effect? Or whatever. I’ve heard there’s science behind that. Definitely that.”

“You fucking bitches…”

“…….”

…No?

Well, whatever.

Hayoon stays quiet and lets it slide.

Jiyun already knows we’re dating.

Ujin never explicitly said “Don’t tell anyone” or “Keep it a secret,”

so if Hayoon wants to reveal it, he probably wouldn’t mind.

So whether she tells them outright someday

or gets caught on a date by chance,

neither would be a big deal, but…

“…….”

Maybe because it’s her first relationship, she can’t figure out the right timing.

‘…What do I do?’

When am I supposed to tell my friends??

Do I just keep hiding it forever?

But…

I kinda… want to brag a little…

Ugh…

Hayoon gnaws on the innocent straw, hiding behind her friend.

Luckily, no one points out her trembling ponytail this time either.

“This is why MBTI trends piss me off. Say whatever you want, then pull the ‘Sorry, I’m a T’ card.”

“Nothing beats it for breaking the ice with strangers, though.”

“True. And it’s better than forcing empathy with calculations.”

“Facts.”

“…Anyway, I’m emotionally fragile today…”

“What’s next period?”

“Practical. That rescue thing from earlier.”

“If I get paired with her, my grade’s doomed.”

The chatter blends into the noise of the class, growing louder.

Some are already yawning, complaining about exhaustion.

In this atmosphere, saying “I’m dating the school nurse” would—

definitely get her labeled as an attention-seeker.

Nope. Nope.

A better opportunity will come later.

I’ll let it slide for now.

Or…

Ah, right.

What if I ask Ujin to walk home together today and stick close to him?

Then, if a friend “accidentally” sees us tomorrow and asks about our relationship,

I could say, “Well, actually…” and explain it all…

…Hm.

Would that seem… natural?

“…….”

…Okay.

Let’s try it starting today.

Starting today.

With that resolution, the bubblegum balloon she’s blowing—pop—bursts.

Not because she saw something strange.

Just a mistake.

“Phew….”

After school.

Hayoon licks the soda-flavored gum sticking to her lips, shoves her hands deep into her fleece pockets, and arrives at the infirmary door.

For some reason, she’s nervous.

Even though she’s been texting him all day and even faked an injury at lunch to visit him, it’s still nerve-wracking.

Well, it makes sense.

Right now, she’s about to execute Operation: Walk Home with Ujin and Subtly Hint We’re Dating So People Ask Questions…!

This requires a very delicate distance.

Hugging his arm and making it obvious would be too embarrassing, right?

Besides, I’m the noona—why would I hug him?

If anyone’s hugging, it should be Seo Ujin hugging my arm. Duh.

But if we walk too far apart, we’ll just look like a teacher and student.

As the saying goes, “Smoke doesn’t rise from a cold chimney”—you’ve gotta light the fire first.

Which means we have to get close.

But how close?

Close enough for our arms to brush while walking?

Close enough to grab his hand if I twist my wrist slightly?

Or just… full-on holding hands?

Or should I just piggyback him?

…No idea.

Blowing another bubble, Hayoon glances around the empty hallway before grabbing the doorknob.

First things first—walk home with Ujin.

Distance can come later.

“How long have you been in pain?”

“…Don’t remember. Since middle school, maybe.”

“That’s a while. No wonder it’s hard to treat.”

“…Quack.”

“Well… yeah, I am a quack. Not like I studied as hard as real doctors.”

“…Just treat me already. Stop petting my head.”

“I need to touch you to treat you, you know.”

“…Pervert.”

“Sure, sure.”

“Ugh… I can’t believe I’m dating a pervert like you… …I’m seriously worried.”

Two voices drift through the door.

One belongs to a boy she knows well.

The other—

a girl she also knows well.

A voice that, though she doesn’t realize it herself,

others say bears a faint resemblance to her own.

Her little sister’s voice.

“Oh. Noona.”

“…? Hayoon… Ah, no. You’re here, unnie?”

“Yeah. Just now.”

“…Hi.”

Peeking inside, she sees Jiyun sitting by the bed, grimacing.

And in front of her, Seo Ujin, who had been smiling softly from his chair before turning his gaze toward the door.

Hayoon greets them lightly and steps inside.

“…….”

She knows Jiyun suffers from chronic headaches.

She knows that’s why she’s usually prickly and rude to people.

She knows the two grew close through treatment.

She knows Ujin became Jiyun’s first real friend when she had none before.

She knows they often play games together now.

She knows Ujin got fed up seeing Jiyun wear the same clothes every day and tried to buy her new ones.

“Hyah!”

“…Noona, what are you doing?”

So.

She hugs Ujin tightly.

“What does it look like? Affection.”

“Jiyun’s right here, though…”

She squeezes in

between Jiyun

and Ujin.

“What’s the big deal? It’s just a hug. …Not even a kiss.”

“You’re always acting all dignified as the noona. What’s up today? Bad lunch?”

She almost says, “This is payback for the convenience store,”

but holds back, not wanting to worry Jiyun.

She almost says, “Seeing you and Jiyun so close makes me jealous,”

but stops, not wanting to seem petty over her little sister.

She almost says, “I want you to touch me all over too,”

but swallows it, having worked so hard to maintain her noona image.

Instead—

“…My feelings.”

With that, Hayoon buries her face into Ujin’s firm body.

Because this—

is something only a girlfriend can do.

“…I take it back. You’re not the pervert here—my sister is.”

“…….”

“…Get off him already. Hayoon. I’m in the middle of treatment.”

“…Ah, mm…”

Only something a girlfriend can do.