Whether it was my nature or not, I wasn’t particularly sociable. I had an introverted personality, so it was difficult for me to approach strangers first or attach the label of “friend” to anyone. Having become accustomed to taking care of younger siblings in a children’s home with more than ten of them, I speculated on my own that perhaps I’d forgotten how to make friends my own age. I’d had no proper friends even in elementary school, and it was the same when I went to middle school. But one day during homeroom, the homeroom teacher carelessly brought up the children’s home to me in front of the other kids regarding the issue of meal subsidies, and after rumors spread that I lived in a children’s home, it got even worse. Until then, I’d been someone with no presence at school, but I suddenly stood at the center of manufactured public sympathy, receiving unwanted attention. And then after I manifested as an Omega…
Those three years of middle school weren’t just quietly peaceful. But even the teachers created an atmosphere of hushing it up, so I chose to cover my mouth and curl up. I naturally didn’t tell the children’s home. It was fortunate for me that the younger siblings were younger than me and there were no kids who had entered middle school yet.
Then I received contact from the Foundation. It was a proposal asking if I would attend the private high school the Foundation had established several years ago. Since I was from a children’s home under the Foundation, was even the very first child to enter that children’s home, had never caused trouble, and had fairly good grades, they seemed to think just having me enter that high school would create a good promotional effect. Since it was a high school run by the Foundation, tuition was naturally waived through a scholarship. Therefore, no matter how private it was, there would be no burden of tuition fees. To begin with, Haebam High School had cheaper tuition compared to other private schools.
The teachers responded more actively than I did to the Foundation’s proposal with a positive answer. However, they said they would refuse anything that would expose me publicly, like interviews. For the teachers, setting aside everything about the Foundation and whatnot, they probably thought it would be nice if I, who couldn’t make friends well, could start fresh in a new environment. Moreover, perhaps because it was private, the facilities were extremely good, and above all, Haebam High was only a few blocks away from our children’s home, so the commute was sufficient at a 15-minute walk. In many ways, it was a good condition for me. The teachers obtained a promise from the Foundation side that they wouldn’t expose me, and I entered Haebam High.
And now, I was standing in the middle of the auditorium wearing a uniform that felt awkward, going through the entrance ceremony.
“Next, we will have the incoming student pledge. Incoming student representative Kim Eorin, come forward.”
Reflexively, I raised my head a bit more. I saw the side profile of a tall male student stepping up the stairs and ascending onto the stage. It was that very grandson who received so much affection that the Chairman always had him on his lips.
“Pledge. We, having entered Haebam Boys’ High School, firmly promise to fulfill our duties as students, respect our teachers, and build proper friendships, striving to become the sun that will illuminate the dark night in the future. Incoming student representative Kim, Eo, Rin.”
Kim Eorin’s voice, which I was hearing for the first time, was a neat low tone. In sync with that kid’s final name character, the children lowered their raised right hands. Perhaps because of the voice ringing through the speakers, my chest area seemed to tingle a bit. From where I stood, Kim Eorin on the stage was incredibly far away, but Kim Eorin’s face floated vividly in my mind. The slightly short black hair, likewise black eyes. But actually, it was the first time I was really seeing Kim Eorin.
Living in the children’s home, I’d grown up hearing countless stories about Kim Eorin. Things like how mature and kind he was, not looking his age, and how he resembled the Chairman so much that his future was anticipated. The boy in the photo the Chairman had once shown me with a pleased face had such an upright and good-natured impression, and such a handsome appearance, that people’s praise was understandable. At some point, I came to harbor admiration for that kid who was supposedly my age, whom I’d never even talked to.
If I entered Haebam High School, I’d be able to see Kim Eorin. It wasn’t that I hadn’t had that thought. Maybe we’d be in the same class, or become friends… such things could have happened. But the faint expectation seemed to crumble starting from the entrance ceremony. Kim Eorin, who took first place on the entrance exam and even made the representative pledge on stage, and me, who was just one of many kids dressed in identical uniforms. The high and distant stage felt even more distant.
I know you, but you don’t know me.
I quietly rubbed my tingling stomach. What kind of emotion was this? Was it envy, a sense of deprivation, an inferiority complex, or sadness about the reality that I was nothing to you? It was ridiculous. Kim Eorin and I weren’t anything to each other to begin with. Kim Eorin wouldn’t even know of my existence, yet I alone was suffering from heartache.
Did I want to become friends with you? I couldn’t even know that. I both wished I would catch Kim Eorin’s eye, and also wished Kim Eorin wouldn’t know me at all. While I wanted to try talking to him at least once, was it because of an inferiority complex that I hoped Kim Eorin wouldn’t talk to me?
Vague admiration, and admiration, and admiration… While I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth, Kim Eorin finished the pledge and descended from the stage. Only when the sound of the children’s applause rang out did I come to my senses and clap along.
After the entrance ceremony ended, it was time to go find our respective classes. The kids who came with their parents seemed to be taking photos, but I headed straight for the bulletin board where class assignments were posted. The teachers seemed to feel sorry for not being able to accompany me to the entrance ceremony, but since there were younger siblings still young enough that they hadn’t entered school yet and needed to be looked after all day, and the entrance ceremony was held on the same date at all schools, I pushed the teachers’ backs, telling them that if they were going to go, they should go where the younger siblings were. I was all grown up so I was fine, but the younger siblings weren’t.
In front of the bulletin board, kids who had arrived before me were gathered, forming a sea of people. Barely squeezing through the gaps between kids and walking to where the announcements were visible, I repeatedly clenched and opened my hands. I could feel pheromones tinged with faint excitement from various places. Class assignment seemed to be an important matter for the kids as much as it was for me.
The announcements were divided by class with names listed in alphabetical order. Already having become friends, I could hear kids going up to their classes together chattering noisily. Since my surname was Yoo, I indiscriminately scanned the surnames starting with the ㅇ consonant.
“Look over there. His name is Yoo Chiwon.”
“Isn’t that a typo?”
Someone seemed to have said something like that. Reflexively turning my head, I saw some kid pointing their finger at Class 5. Indeed, in Class 5, my name characters were written.
“……”
Even after finding out my class, I couldn’t leave that spot. It was because of small conflicts and lingering feelings.
Should I look for it?
Even though I had nothing to do even if I found it, I was seized by the impulse to pick out Kim Eorin’s name characters from among the over 300 names. Not even sure whether I hoped we’d be in the same class or not, I was just curious about Kim Eorin. Unable to overcome the impulse, I slowly traced back up the list from my name. Yeon, So, Park, Ma. No Ri, no Di either. Na, and then Kim…
Kim Eorin was in Class 5.
Taking a breath small enough not to be heard by others, I stepped foot through the front door. Since there were many kids coming and going, the door was left open. I wasn’t even given the opportunity to relax and open the door with my own hands. Unlike what I’d thought—that no one would be interested in me—when I entered through the front door, several kids looked at me. Though they soon turned their heads, perhaps having looked to see if I was a familiar face, my back stiffened hard with tension for a moment. Like a habit, I touched my nape. The fingers touching my skin trembled faintly.
There was a paper attached to the green chalkboard—a seating chart arranged in attendance number order. Standing in front of it, I scanned the names with my index finger to find my name. In middle school, attendance numbers were in order of earliest birthdays so the names were all jumbled, but here it seemed to be in name order. I was number 25. Leftmost side, second from the back, window seat. Even after confirming the seat location while reciting it in my mouth, I didn’t leave the spot, pretending to readjust my bag.
This time too, I couldn’t overcome temptation and searched for Kim Eorin’s seat. While making excuses to myself that I was just seeing who was in the same class. Kim Eorin was third from the left, second from the front. It was a spot visible diagonally from my seat. Feeling subtle emotions following the subtle distance, I turned my body.
Seeing that there was no bag hanging on the adjacent desk, it seemed my seatmate hadn’t arrived yet. I was about to hang my bag on the desk but changed my mind and lifted it onto the desk, hugging it. It was a light bag with only a pencil case inside, but it was better than just sitting at an empty desk.
Shortly after, my seatmate came and sat in the seat next to me. Seeing that there was no scent at all, my partner was a Beta. And someone sat in the seat behind my seatmate as well, and whether they were friends with my seatmate, the two chatted saying how lucky they were to sit close together.
This morning, before leaving for school, the teachers held my hands and kept repeating telling me to have a good day. I noticed that it actually meant “make friends well and come back.” Also that they deliberately didn’t say it that way because they worried my now-seventeen-year-old self would be hurt in pride. The teachers knew I had no history of making friends until now. Because the topic of friends had never once come from my mouth.
Having gone through three years of middle school and ended up in a state of having admiration but no expectations for the relationship called “friends,” I still didn’t want to disappoint the teachers, so I’d set just one goal of greeting my seatmate. However, my seatmate sat down while endlessly talking with the friend in the back seat, and I missed the timing. “I can’t help it,” I thought, turning my head. But at that very moment,
“Hello.”
The kid in the seat next to me initiated a greeting. Not having expected this, I was flustered but barely managed to return the greeting by waving my hand. My voice just wouldn’t come out.
[To be continued in the next episode….]
