Chapter 17: Yes? Me? Me? – (2)

The Corner Room on the 5th Floor of Dormitory No. 7

This was the place I would be living for the next few years.

Normally, this space should have been quiet, but it was anything but that at the moment.

Whispering

“……….”

The dozens of pairs of eyes on me were overwhelming. The dorm room had long since become overcrowded, and the crowd in the hallway was all staring in our direction.

“Did they all gather here just to look at me?”

It felt like the first time a new recruit had entered a unit that hadn’t had one for years.

From now on, my small dorm room was surrounded by dozens of middle and high school girls.

I had planned to calmly look around the room and then eat after meeting my guests, but those plans had already fallen apart.

“Will I even be able to eat?”

Finally, the tense atmosphere was broken.

“Excuse me…”

“Yes?”

The senior standing at the front asked. Her ribbon was blue, indicating she was from the middle school department, and based on her name tag, I guessed she was a third-year student.

“Why is your name Hana?”

“Is your family devout Christians?”

“Or are you Japanese?!”

A flood of questions came all at once.

‘One question at a time, please.’

But I couldn’t afford to say something that might offend the upperclassmen I would be living with for the next few years. I simply gave them the answer.

“I’m the firstborn, so ‘Hana’ as in one, two, three…”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!”

-“Cute!!”

Then came a barrage of questions.

“Can you sleep alone? Do you not need to sleep with your parents?”

“Want me and the other seniors to sleep with you? Come stay in the high school dorm!”

“Four!! The girls in Dorm 4 are really nice!! Let’s sleep together!!”

“I can sleep alone.”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!”

“Are you a celebrity or aspiring idol? Child actress or something?”

“Look at your big eyes already… you’re so pretty…”

“She’s gonna be the face of the new students next year.”

“Wait, did you get plastic surgery..?”

“No, I’m just a normal student… I haven’t had any plastic surgery.”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!”

One of the high school seniors couldn’t resist and took out her wallet.

“Is there anything you want to eat? Do you want me to buy you snacks from the cafeteria? I’ll get you anything you want!”

“Huh?!”

For a moment, I was stunned and frozen, unintentionally seeing what was in her wallet.

‘‘What? There’s cash in her wallet…?!’

It was like a cabbage patch. Since 50,000-won bills and the new banknotes hadn’t come out yet, her wallet was filled with large, crisp 10,000-won bills, like yellow-green vegetables. If the world’s vegans saw this, they would cheer.

‘Wait a minute… how much cash does she have in her wallet?’

‘When I was in my first year of high school, I cried when I lost 5,000 won…’

Despite my confusion, the people around me seemed to think this was no big deal.

“Chicken? Burgers? Pizza? Or do you want something from the cafeteria? Do you know the desserts they sell in the cafeteria are made by a Pâtissière who studied in France? People from outside come here to eat? Let’s go together!”

“That’s just a snack! Let’s go out for some lunch! I’ll go ask the dorm supervisor for an outing pass!”

“Want to go to the department store? Let’s take a taxi and go!”

I politely declined the growing welcome party.

“Ah, no. The staff gave me some snacks… I’m planning to eat at the school cafeteria later.”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!”

-“Cute!!

‘What’s so cute about this…?’

The periodic shrieks were driving me to the edge of insanity.

“Is this some kind of military chant? They’re sucking the soul out of me.”

Amid the confusion, some seniors boldly attempted physical contact.

“Wow, can I touch your cheek?”

“Me too, me too!”

“Is it okay to allow this or not?”

I briefly debated this.

‘If I say no here, it’ll only make things awkward.’

This kind of attention wouldn’t last long anyway. It was just the excitement of having a new girl join in the middle of the semester. Once new students came in next year, it would all die down. It would be better not to be too cold and avoid leaving any bad feelings.

‘It’s just because they’re excited about a new face. There’s no reason to refuse.’

I ultimately gave in.

“Okay, go ahead, touch me…”

“Yeah, sure…”

The seniors immediately lit up with excitement and rushed over.

“Wait…?!”

I tried to escape quickly, but numerous hands already held me captive.

“This is so soft!! It feels like chewy rice cakes!”

“Is this really human skin? What the hell?”

“It’s so soft! So cute!!”

“Ahhh!! It smells so good!”

Someone even buried their nose in my scalp and inhaled deeply.

“Ugh, it smells like milk!!”

“Really?!”

“……?!”

The seniors reacted to this and swarmed around me like pigeons at a park.

It was a hell of skinship.

A senior with long hair persistently touched my left cheek, while another with short hair, who looked like an athlete, stroked my right cheek.

‘Ugh…’

The senior with long hair marveled and muttered.

“Wow, your skin is so white that you can see the veins. You look like one of those porcelain dolls they sell in England. My mom collects porcelain dolls, and if she sees you, she’ll probably want to take you to England.”

The other senior, who had been touching my cheek, chuckled.

“It’s funny how you’re subtly showing off your British accent. How many people here have actually been to Europe?”

I flinched slightly.

But the long-haired senior responded calmly.

“Why not? Is that a problem?”

“What are you saying? Stop with the British accent. Bow-waw-wawter –Ugh.”

“Fuck you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Suddenly, the two of them started arguing in English.

I heard the sound of giggling from the students around us.

“Looks like the tea girl is fighting again.”

“Isn’t it funny how they both said they wanted to go to universities in the US and the UK?”

“They said their parents are from the US and the UK, didn’t they?”

The nicknames were absurd.

One of the students had an American parent, so she was called “Coke.”

The other had a British parent, so she was called “Tea.”

If the human rights committee heard this, they would be shocked and probably jump out of their skin.

If this rule applied to me, I’d be “Seolleongtang” (a Korean soup).

‘Is this even okay?’

These names felt outdated, like something from 2004, but somehow they still stuck.

Still, no one in the room seemed to care about it except for me.

The senior from the UK and the one from the US continued to argue, each using all sorts of curses, while still stroking my cheeks.

The one with long hair… the “tea” senior, occasionally raised her index and middle fingers.

“FUCK YOU!!”

“FUCK YOU!!”

“Wow—!!”

They kept fighting, but the surrounding students didn’t try to stop them. Instead, they cheered them on like an audience at a pro wrestling match. It seemed like rare entertainment in a dormitory school.

‘What kind of terrifying combat tribe are these people?’

But despite their bickering, the two of them never stopped stroking my cheeks.

‘Could you at least take your hands off my face before you finish talking?’

On top of that, there was another factor that made me even more uncomfortable.

‘Why are they welcoming me like this…?’

Whether they were middle school or high school students, all the remaining residents of the dormitory gathered around, showing interest, and it felt strange.

The typical senior-junior relationships I knew didn’t seem to apply here.

‘I thought the art world had strict senior-junior dynamics, but this is… different.’

But fortunately, the sudden sound of a bell from afar changed the atmosphere completely. The clear yet deep resonance echoed, reverberating throughout the dormitory building.

I turned to the senior who had been patting my head.

“What… what is this?”

“It’s the bell that signals lunchtime. You saw that huge church on the way here, right? It’s the bell from there.”

“It rings at 12 PM for lunch and 6 PM for dinner.”

“Ah…”

The seniors, who had been particularly affectionate just moments ago, stretched and got up.

“Ah, it’s lunchtime already.”

“Hana! Want to go eat with us?”

“The boys are probably already eating, let’s just skip it.”

“Or do you want to go eat outside?”

Lunchtime.

The sound of the bell suddenly snapped me back to reality.

‘Oh right. My visitor…?!’

I had gotten so distracted that I had completely forgotten about it.

I quickly apologized to the seniors and told them I needed to leave to meet someone who had come to visit. The seniors nodded readily and gave me directions to the visiting area.

“If you go straight to the dormitory office, there are lots of small shops and cafes. You can go there.”

“We’ll let the dormitory manager know in advance!”

“Thank you.”

What is this kindness…?!

Were teenagers in 2004 this considerate?

As the seniors hurriedly left, they said to me:

“We’ll see you again, ‘real genius’ youngest!”

“We’ll buy you something delicious later, ‘genius little sibling!’”

“…?”

Genius.

Genius, huh…

‘They’re probably mistaken about something.’

But I didn’t have time to correct them.

I just bowed my head and hurried off to the visiting area.

‘Something feels… off.’

At the visiting area, it was filled with a calm atmosphere, like an airport lounge. There was one middle-aged man sitting there. His wine-colored suit stood out, and I noticed him immediately.

‘Is that him…?’

I could tell from the back that he wasn’t my uncle. Unlike my uncle, who had a slim and toned build, this man had the symbol of wealth at his side, clearly different.

‘Who is he…?’

I quietly approached the table where he was sitting and awkwardly greeted him.

“Hello…”

He awkwardly greeted me back.

“Hello…”

“Yes… uh, a visit.”

“Ah, it’s me.”

‘He… said it like that.’

I imagined saying, ‘I don’t know who you are.’

It felt awkward to ask someone who had waited this long who they were. So, I waited for him to introduce himself.

“Yeah…”

“Uh…”

“….”

Awkward. 

Embarrassing.

Quiet…

‘What is this…’

But at the same time, I felt at ease.

This man… he’s similar to me in personality.

Maybe he thought the same, because soon, the cold sweat started to fade, and a smile appeared on his face.

“Ah, I haven’t introduced myself yet.”

“….”

“Uh, how should I put it…”

“Thank you.”

“…What?”

“It’s me, Mari’s dad.”

Ah.

“Ah, I see…”

“…Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“…Shall we eat together?”

“Uh, sure.”

So, four months after the accident, I met Mari’s dad for the first time.

It was an incredibly awkward meal.