Go Taerim’s POV
[Monday 5 PM!! Seminar Room Opening Ceremony!! ATTENDANCE MANDATORY]
I checked the message on my phone one more time in front of the Sculpture department building, then picked up my pace. I thought to myself that if I’d known there would be this many department events, I never would have gone to university. The enrollment ceremony, the opening general meeting, the freshman welcome party, the upperclassmen-underclassmen mixer, the MT, the festival, and so on and so on. The memory of last year — completely drained from attending an endless onslaught of events — flashed before my eyes. Now that the first semester of my second year had begun, I’d have to repeat all of this for another three years.
It’s a long road ahead, but let’s at least make it to graduation.
I decided to believe just a little bit more in what my homeroom teacher back in high school had said — that by the time I graduated from university, my circumstances and outlook on life would be very different. If things did change, great. If not, I could leave without looking back.
Picturing that faraway graduation, I headed to the bathroom instead of the seminar room where the opening ceremony was being held. I’d only just realized, too late, that I’d splattered broth on my sleeve while hurriedly eating a cup of noodle. The orange stain had soaked deep into the white fabric — deep enough that I was genuinely worried it might not come out.
That’s how I ended up in the bathroom, where I found a pair of upperclassmen standing side by side at the urinals.
“Hello.”
At my greeting, the upperclassmen turned their heads, holding their waistbands. Their mischievous faces lit up with something like pleasure.
“Oh, it’s Go Taerim—.”
“Second year Go Taerim, how have you been? How does it feel to be an upperclassman now, Go Taerim.”
“You’ve gotten even cuter since I last saw you, Go Taerim.”
The habit of tacking my last name onto my given name as a joke had, somewhere along the way, become a nickname. The familiar way of speaking I’d forgotten over the long winter break was unexpectedly welcome, and I smiled a little awkwardly. Glad to see them, but with nothing particular to say.
I went to stand in front of the sink with my back to them. I pulled my sleeve down long, held the soiled part under the running water, and watched the large wet patch spread quickly through the fabric. It looked like I’d have to accept that the material was going to stretch.
“Hey. So what were you doing over break instead of getting circumcised.”
The upperclassmen snickered and picked back up where they’d left off with their own conversation. The bathroom was small enough that it was like they were talking right into my ear.
“What kind of guy gets circumcised at our age, dumbass. I said I’m not doing it.”
“What does age have to do with pulling back the skin? If you get a good doctor they’ll shape it up real nice, so just go ahead and get it done. I saw it on YouTube — apparently after the surgery it even looks bigger because of the optical illusion.”
“Who cares if someone else’s dick looks pretty or not. Do you even know they cut off your erogenous zones when you get circumcised?”
“Even without them it still feels amazing though? Hey. And besides, what do you need all those erogenous zones for, it’s not like you’re using them.”
“Wow, this guy gets a girlfriend and suddenly doesn’t know where the line is?”
The crude conversation made my hands speed up as I worked the fabric. At this rate, maybe it would be better to just finish cleaning up after the ceremony was over, even if the stain didn’t come out as well. Separate from how nice the upperclassmen were to me personally, I had no desire to get mixed up in this kind of embarrassing atmosphere.
Not that it wasn’t natural for them to have certain drives, being living creatures and all — but what was the point of talking like this in a bathroom full of men. It wasn’t like they were Alphas or Omegas in heat.
“Hey, hold on, quiet for a sec. I’ve got a call.”
“From who?”
The question wasn’t directed at me, but I reflexively glanced over at the upperclassmen without thinking. Then quickly looked away again. The face of the upperclassman who had seemed perfectly normal just a moment ago was now appearing to me as an uncircumcised penis.
Our brains have this unfortunate tendency to fixate on things the moment even a slightly provocative word enters — and it was clear mine was already being contaminated by their crude energy.
So I moved to leave, hurriedly, but as luck would have it the upperclassmen had voices to match their pronunciation — even as I was making my way out of the bathroom, the conversation came through loud and clear.
“Hello? Where are you. Still? Ah, get over here. Aren’t you going to be late for the start of the ceremony?”
“Who is it, I keep asking?”
“Seon Eunhu. Says he just woke up from a nap.”
“What? Is he already acting like a returning student? Get over here — Seon Eunhu!”
I was well out of the bathroom before their voices faded. With a voice like that, everyone probably already knows whether they’re circumcised or not.
A fact I hadn’t particularly wanted to know had apparently lodged itself pretty deep in my head, so I shook it out vigorously and walked into the seminar room. The first-year underclassmen greeted me with a thunderous hello. Someone must have really scared them, because the freshmen were all at sharp attention.
“Can I sit here?”
I went to an empty spot in the second-year section and asked the person next to me. He welcomed me warmly and moved his bag off the desk.
We hadn’t talked much last semester, so after an awkward exchange of greetings, without either of us making the first move, we each pulled out our phones and started fiddling with them. We opened and closed various apps, pretending to be busy with things that weren’t really there.
The wet sleeve against my wrist felt unpleasantly damp.
The opening ceremony wasn’t anything particularly special. It was similar to the regular department meetings we had periodically — the only difference being that they introduced the new teaching assistant who’d joined this year and the representatives for each year.
But even that was only different from their perspective. For an ordinary member like me who just sat there nodding and then left, it was a ceremony no different from usual. Having only just now learned who this year’s department representative was, I fulfilled my duty for the day by clapping for the third time.
The introduction of each year’s representative wrapped up quickly. When the teaching assistant in charge of the proceedings took the microphone, the restless atmosphere settled. All that was left now was to go through the events scheduled for the semester and make a few formal announcements, and it would be over.
“Alright. Let’s wrap up the introductions around here….”
The teaching assistant had just started speaking when a tall silhouette appeared at the window by the entrance, and the door eased open.
“Sorry I’m late.”
The man bowed his head as he came in, apparently trying not to disturb the ceremony as much as possible — but laughter broke out from the upperclassmen’s section and cut through the flow. They seemed to recognize who he was even without seeing his face.
The teaching assistant was the same. His expression broke into obvious delight, and he waved the newcomer over.
“Where do you think you’re going? Get over here.”
“Sorry?”
“Let’s introduce the returning students this year too.”
“Ah, hyung.”
“Alright. All returning students this semester, come up front. What are you embarrassed about — the more embarrassed a returning student is, the creepier it is? Come on, hurry up.”
At the teaching assistant’s direction, six or seven students came and stood at the front. Among them, the man who had just walked in — standing alone with his bag — fidgeted with his bangs as if embarrassed, then at some point grinned toward the upperclassmen’s section.
“…….”
Maybe it was because the first impression he gave was a smiling face. For a moment, every bit of my attention was stolen by him.
It wasn’t love at first sight. It was more like — if you put a row of pencils side by side, your eye naturally goes to the one that’s been sharpened the most neatly. Of course, if that person had been a woman, I might have admitted I’d fallen for her — but in any case, that returning student was a man, so there was no reason to argue over whether I’d fallen or not.
The returning students introduced themselves in order. When his turn came, the upperclassmen who were seated cheered as if they’d been waiting for this moment. The man held his index finger to his lips and mouthed, silently, Don’t overdo it in their direction. He didn’t look embarrassed.
“Hello. I’m Seon Eunhu, student ID XX, returning as a third year this semester. I look forward to working with you all.”
Oh… his voice is great too.
I was clapping along with that favorable impression when the upperclassmen shouted something through the commotion.
Seon Eunhu, who had raised an eyebrow in silence, seemed to understand what they said and furrowed his brow slightly. Then, as if he had no choice, he added:
“Yes. I’m an Alpha. So please be kind to me.”
The confession was met with a wave of laughter-filled cheers that filled the seminar room. It was the moment when the first and second year students — myself included — finally realized that this person was the Alpha everyone had been talking about.
