As night fell, the room darkened, so I turned on the light.
*Click.*
The ceiling light flickered, illuminating the small room brightly. With my vision clear, I took out the items I'd gotten today from the shopping bag on the table.
The rustling sound of the wrapping paper around the clothes was a bit annoying, but I could tolerate it.
After all, I was in a pretty good mood because of *this*.
The black arm sleeve I was wearing on my left arm.
Equipped with cooling fabric, it was long enough to wrap around my slender arm without slipping off, with a stretchy, snug fit. At the end, there were five round holes for my fingers, kind of like a boxing strap or, more accurately, a glove with the finger parts cut off.
"Anyway… this means the tattoo on my wrist will never show. It even covers my hand."
(I was only thinking of a sleeve that'd cover up to my wrist, but this is going to make things so much easier. No matter what pose I strike, my left arm is safe.)
I hadn't studied in forever, so I sprawled over the desk, stretched out my arms, and felt good about the thought of sleeping comfortably.
"I have to go to this damn school for two years whether I like it or not, so I might as well kill time. It's not the military, but goddammit… what kind of nonsense is this?"
Anyway, with my left arm sorted, it was time to deal with my neck.
I picked up some skin-colored tape from the table, cut a large piece with scissors, and went to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I carefully applied it to my neck.
It didn't look too bad once it was on…
The tattoo was definitely covered, but the skin-colored tape stuck to my skin stood out, feeling a bit unnatural.
"Whatever. I'm not trying to cosplay as a perfect student. And my eyes… I guess I'll just have to deal with them. There's nothing to cover them with."
I touched the area around my eyes and put on the neatly folded school uniform from the table.
The dark, slim-fit pants clearly showed the care the tailor had put into altering them. The rest was pretty standard: a white summer uniform shirt with a black short-sleeve tee underneath.
(This is the classic school uniform look. Even if I'm a guy here, who's gonna button up the shirt? It's freaking hot during the day)
"Yeah, this is decent enough… Wait, what's this?"
Something felt oddly familiar, different from when I saw it in the store. With uneasy eyes, I looked down at the uniform I was wearing.
…This looks like the one that delinquent high schooler was wearing back then, doesn't it?
The conversation I had with her came back to me with a chilling sensation.
"Oppa, you live around here, huh? I live nearby too!"
"Dammit… No way, right? No, no."
With trembling hands, I decided to search for the truth on my phone.
"Gangnam… Yeonjeong High girls' uniform…"
The search results popped up immediately, and as I scrolled through the images, I roughly ran my hand through my hair.
(Son of a bitch.)
All I could think was that I was (screwed)
---
After a bit of a meltdown, I felt myself calming down as I stroked the pillow, though my hand was moving faster than usual.
…Or maybe I wasn't calm at all, because rather than stroking the pillow, it felt like I was trying to rip out its insides. I didn't have the mental space to care.
"Sorry, buddy."
(Your owner keeps losing his mind and taking it out on an innocent pillow like you.)
"So, to sum it up, that delinquent goes to the same school as me."
As I said it, I stopped stroking the pillow and gripped it tightly, like I was about to burst it.
"And that delinquent saw me acting like some cocky adult."
(Goddammit, why is my life like this?)
My hand, clutching the fragile fabric, trembled with visible veins. Then, releasing the tension, I placed the pillow at the head of the bed and lay down.
Closing my eyes and thinking of nothing felt peaceful.
I wanted to stay like this forever, but I couldn't.
"If I do that, my life's done for. No money, no nothing, and I'd end up not even a high school graduate but a nobody with no education. Ugh, fine, I can't avoid it."
With some resolve, I opened my eyes, sat up, and grabbed the documents from the table.
"I'm in my second year. Come to think of it, how would I know if she's a first-year or a third-year?"
Yeah.
I can't skip school just because I'm scared of running into her.
All I have to do is avoid her, right?
"Even if, by some tiny chance, we're in the same grade… we'd just be in different classes."
As a plan formed, my head felt clearer than before.
Finally managing to calm my emotions, I lay back down and slowly closed my eyes.
---
**Gangnam Yeonjeong High.**
The name alone makes you think of a school for rich kids, like in dramas where students flaunt their family's wealth, engage in political power struggles, and turn the school upside down.
But that was all a lie.
"Teacher Seungmin."
"Yes…"
"It's your class causing trouble again. Can't you do something about it?"
The woman frowning like a bulldog in front of Seungmin was the school's vice-principal.
"I'm sorry. But I just started here not long ago, and… since I'm a male teacher, controlling the kids is…"
"Teacher, are you going to keep dodging responsibility like that? What about the male teachers who've been managing kids here for decades?"
"…"
"It's not just your class, either. The delinquents from other classes are out there acting like they own the streets because their families have money. This time, they got caught smoking in their uniforms. Ha, unbelievable."
The problem kids at this school.
No matter what they do, their parents pay off the consequences or bail them out.
When Seungmin was first assigned here, he came in with high expectations of a refined teaching career.
(It's Gangnam, so the kids must be well-behaved and mature…)
Yeah, right. It was just as bad as any delinquent school.
(Forget prestige. It's exhausting just trying to keep a leash on these kids…)
The vice-principal, fuming, let out a huff and said, "Oh, and I heard there's a new male transfer student joining your class?"
"Yes… I heard. A student who immigrated from abroad…"
"Make sure he doesn't get influenced by the others. Since he's a foreigner, he'll stand out even more in our school uniform."
Understood.
There were already kids with dyed yellow hair causing trouble. If a foreigner joined them and started acting out… it'd be a nightmare.
(Please, let him be a normal, model student…)
"I'll… do my best to manage him."
"I'm counting on you, Teacher Seungmin."
Seungmin could tell from the way the vice-principal addressed him that her anger had subsided, which was a relief. As he bowed his head, she left the staff room with strides as big as her frame.
Sitting down, Seungmin ran a hand through his disheveled hair and looked at the paper in front of him.
• Name: Ryu Sehwa
• Grade: 2**
• Age: 18**
• Country of Origin: Russia
With only basic information and no photo, he had no idea what kind of kid this was.
No picture, huh? Alright, Sehwa, whatever you're like, just please don't cause trouble.
If something went wrong, the vice-principal's wrath wouldn't just stop at him it'd turn the entire faculty upside down.
And, of course, it'd start with his class.
Seungmin sighed, mentally preparing himself to meet the new transfer student.
---
__
I got up in the morning, washed up, and got ready for school.
No, I wasn't late. They told me to come around lunchtime.
"Time to head out. Now that I think about it, I don't even have a bag."
(It'll be fine. It's my first day anyway.)
After one last check of my outfit, I took a taxi and got off at the front gate of Yeonjeong High.
The school I'd be attending looked pretty decent.
Instead of a gate, the entrance had sleek, massive pillars. The buildings visible beyond them made me wonder just how much money this place had to build so extravagantly.
(As expected of Gangnam.)
Cracking my neck, I walked past the entrance and into the building, looking for the staff room.
It must've been class time because there wasn't a single student in the hallways.
After wandering around the first floor and climbing a couple more, I finally found it.
**Staff Room**
(Seriously, they could've put a sign on the first floor or something. This place is already pissing me off.)
Feeling irritated, I opened the door and walked in.
Among what looked like dozens of empty cubicles, only one person was there, sitting alone as if waiting for someone. It had to be the teacher.
I walked over, bowed my head, and greeted him.
"Hello. I'm Ryu Sehwa, the transfer student starting today. Are you Teacher Kim Seungmin?"
"Yeah, I'm Kim Seungmin… Oh, uh…"
The teacher, who'd been pretending to focus on something, looked at me and immediately wore a look of despair.
(What's his deal?)
---
__
Seungmin felt a warning bell ring for his future.
He'd been putting on a stern face to project authority, but the moment he saw this boy, it crumbled.
That appearance, that perfectly toned body it radiated a vibe that screamed trouble, no matter how you looked at it.
Even if the kid didn't intend to cause problems, Seungmin knew the other students wouldn't leave him alone.
(Vice-principal… I'm sorry, but I don't think I can handle this one either…)
As Sehwa gave him a cold look, as if asking if he'd keep standing there, Seungmin instinctively gestured for him to sit.
Finally, the teacher and student were face-to-face, ready to talk.
Seungmin broke the ice first, like a proper teacher.
"Welcome. First off, Sehwa, can you fix your uniform? A male student shouldn't be wearing the summer shirt unbuttoned with just a black tee underneath."
"I'm sorry. I get hot easily, so… is that not okay?"
Sehwa gave him a pleading look.
But to Seungmin, those eyes seemed like a threat, as if saying,"Cross me, and I'll go wild." Reluctantly, he nodded.
"Alright… What's that under your eyes?"
"…A sticker."
Sehwa himself seemed dumbfounded by his own answer but kept his expression cool.
"Oh? Can I take a look? It might draw unwanted attention."
As Seungmin reached out, Sehwa quickly corrected himself.
"Sorry, it's a tattoo."
"…Then what's with the arm sleeve?"
"That's… also a tattoo."
"Ha, haha. And the tape on your neck?"
"…"
Seungmin tapped his crossed leg and sighed.
"Sehwa, you know students shouldn't have those, right? I don't know how it was in your country, but it's not okay here."
"I understand. I'll do my best to keep them covered."
"Ugh… Fine. Can I see them first?"
Sehwa nodded, peeling off the tape and sleeve.
When Seungmin saw the tattoos, his expression screamed that he was losing it even more than before.
"…Alright, I get it. Never take those off at school, and don't go down the wrong path. I'll be watching you. You understand my Korean, right?"
"Yes."
"Phew. Let's head to class. My lesson's about to start."
Seungmin stood up and walked to his classroom without looking back.
Sehwa suddenly felt a wave of anxiety, his body stiffening, but he let out a small laugh and relaxed.
(No way.)
_________________________________________
Translated by Reversalmanhwa.web.id
/ Reversalnovel.web.id