Chapter 22
The uncle teased me as he left, saying I’d been an old soul since I was little and I’d become even more of an old soul as I grew up.
I don’t think of myself as a child, but do I really seem that much like an old soul?
Of course, my mental age is in my 30s. No, has it surpassed that?
Anyway, it hurts to hear it directly.
When I think about the things that will happen in the future, I can’t relax or laugh like the other children my age, so I guess my expressions have become quite limited.
In the morning, while preparing for school with no particular thoughts in mind, I was shocked when I looked at myself in the mirror while showering. My expression was barely different from what it had been before the regression, when gates were appearing everywhere and I worked frequent overtime.
An expressionless face unsuited for a fourteen-year-old. I’ve been trying to develop habits to relieve worry and tension, but it hasn’t worked as I’d hoped.
The uncle had been teasing me since I visited Ji Yeohoon’s house after starting elementary school, as if trying to make me show expression by calling me an old soul.
But his teasing only worked on the truly young Yoon Cheong—it couldn’t be effective on me, with my inner age of thirty.
“Soo-young, aren’t you going to the sixth-grade classroom today?”
Yoon Cheong and I went to the sixth-grade classroom almost every day because of Ji Yeohoon. Baek Da-hyuk and Yoo Ji-ae always joined us.
But Ji Yeohoon would soon be coming to the middle school division, and the weather had become quite cold, so I didn’t want to go.
When I shook my head saying I wouldn’t go, Baek Da-hyuk looked disappointed.
If they wanted to see that Guide kid, they could just go by themselves, but for some reason they were embarrassed and hid behind me (though they weren’t actually hidden).
Yoo Ji-ae was the same.
She could have just rushed over, but she came to ask if I wasn’t going today. I gave her some snacks, telling her to go alone, but she shook her head saying she wouldn’t go either.
“Why do they keep asking me?”
“Because they’re shy?”
“About what exactly?”
“Isn’t it because they like someone?”
“If they like someone, shouldn’t they make more of an effort? Go visit them.”
“Is that possible? It’s kind of embarrassing to just go there.”
With each exchange between Yoon Cheong and me, I couldn’t help but feel we were somehow talking past each other.
If you like someone, shouldn’t you tell them you like them or make some effort to get closer? When I found it strange, Yoon Cheong asked how one could do that when they’re embarrassed.
What is this? Where exactly are we failing to understand each other?
I thought I could understand Yoon Cheong, having known him since childhood, despite our different personalities, but it felt strangely puzzling.
Baek Da-hyuk and Yoo Ji-ae became sulky when I said I wasn’t going, and kept looking toward the elementary division building.
“This won’t do. They’ll get lovesick at this rate.”
“Are we going?”
“Yeah. You’re coming too, right, Yoon Cheong?”
“Yes.”
I took out a bag full of small bell-shaped chocolates that I had stored in my locker and headed outside. Having heard our conversation, Baek Da-hyuk and Yoo Ji-ae rushed over.
It was somewhat intimidating how these kids bigger than me moved so quickly.
Yoo Ji-ae, being a close-range dealer and thus physically enhanced, was almost the same height as Yoon Cheong, who was approaching 175cm.
When I opened the elementary classroom door, dragging these kids taller than me behind me, Ji Yeohoon came running.
“Hyung, you said you were staying in the classroom because it’s cold.”
“That was my plan.”
Yoo Ji-ae and Baek Da-hyuk took chocolates from me and ran to that Guide student.
The way they nodded with infatuated smiles while politely saying “Thank you again today” to Do Yoon-seo was just…
“It’s sweet today, so you’ll like it, right?”
“Yes.”
When Ji Yeohoon opened his mouth, I put a chocolate in, and Yoon Cheong immediately pointed to his own mouth with his index finger, asking for one too.
With a feeling of “yes, yes, I’m the one raising you,” I unwrapped one and put it in his mouth.
“They could just come here on their own, but they always wait for me to come. They could just bring snacks themselves.”
“Isn’t it because they’re embarrassed?”
“…Yoon Cheong said the same thing. Why would they be embarrassed?”
“Well, our uniforms are different.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Different uniforms, and, you know, walking through the elementary division hallway… it’s awkward…”
When I looked at him with a “why on earth?” expression, Ji Yeohoon looked surprised and asked, “Hyung, don’t you feel that way?”
Wondering why, I distributed chocolates to the children who gathered around today.
Of course, one can be shy when they like someone, but where does the awkwardness come from? Looking at Ji Yeohoon, Yoon Cheong, and Baek Da-hyuk and Yoo Ji-ae who were watching Guide student Do Yoon-seo, I suddenly realized.
These kids are now in sixth grade and first year of middle school—ages when puberty begins.
They’ve reached the age where they think a lot about themselves and care about differences from others.
For me, it wasn’t particularly bothersome since I had lived in the elementary building until last year, and with an adult’s thick skin, I didn’t care if elementary students who didn’t know me looked at me.
But I realized that might not be the case for these kids with delicate emotions beginning to bloom.
“Ah, you guys are young.”
“Don’t talk like you’re not young.”
“I’m young too.”
Of course, it could also be a difference in personality.
Many people think Espers and Guides develop angular personalities because they receive special education and are put on pedestals.
But when separated from their parents at a young age and consistently educated in an environment where they control their instincts, strange brakes form in their minds.
As a result, they watch the reactions of teachers and adults, and even though no one actually stops them, they naturally create implicit rules like “elementary students shouldn’t leave the elementary building, and middle school students shouldn’t leave the middle school building,” making them hesitate.
Maybe they follow me quietly because they gain courage from my nonchalance about it.
The school was indeed problematic, keeping them contained and controlled due to potential dangers.
“So Ji Yeohoon, you didn’t come to the middle school division because the uniforms are different? Even though you barge into the dormitory without hesitation?”
“Hyung, when you ask so directly…”
“I guess it’s true.”
“Like, the second and third-year middle schoolers ask why I came. It’s kind of embarrassing…”
“So Yoon Cheong, is that also why you didn’t come to the elementary building even when I asked?”
“…Don’t ask.”
It was cute, but watching these kids bigger than me being all shy… it was even cuter.
Their faces are becoming an unfair advantage.
“Next year will be tough. Those two will practically live in the first-year classroom.”
“Hyung, I can go to the second-year classroom next year too.”
“Yes, yes. Just bring snacks when you come.”
I hadn’t thought about how to protect the sensitivities of puberty, and now my head hurt even more.
4.
Perhaps because I had an adult’s memories, the seasons seemed to change in the blink of an eye.
Someone said that scientifically, it’s a phenomenon where the brain deletes memories it considers useless as more memories accumulate, but I’m not sure exactly.
It feels like just yesterday I was screaming, “Why are these kids showing up here?” but now Ji Yeohoon was wearing the same uniform as me.
And now these middle schoolers were telling me they had reached the age where they could enter gates and were going to do so.
“You applied and got accepted?”
“Yes. We did.”
“How did you two get accepted when the probability is so low?”
“I wouldn’t know. Anyway, hyung has to come too, we applied for you. We leave tomorrow morning.”
These little brats had submitted a gate practice application—which can only be submitted once a year from middle school—and it had been approved, so they were going to enter a gate.
I remember seeing Yoon Cheong submit one last year, but as I recall, it was rejected because high school students had priority and there were no spots left. Why was it approved this time?
Basically, it’s allowed for high school students first, and middle school students get spots if they become available, but this time these two were the only ones who got approved.
Why did it have to be you two?
Moreover, since Guide students don’t have gate practice in their curriculum, there’s no need for them to go, but these two put my name down as their accompanying Guide.
While it was mandatory for Esper students to conquer a gate once during their school life, it wasn’t the same for Guides.
Because the inside of a gate is dangerous, Guides, being fewer in number, could only join through indirect application—being requested by an Esper student—rather than direct application.
But why did these two not only break through that terrible probability but also put me down?
“I never said I would go?”
“You said we could write your name.”
“When did I ever!”
When I shouted, Ji Yeohoon took out his phone.
With a face that said “What’s that? When did I do that?”, I watched as he turned on the voice recorder on his phone.
“Hyung, can I put your name down?”
“Ugh, just…”
“Hyuuung~ Can I do it?”
“Ah, fine, do whatever you want. Let me sleep… What time is it? Six o’clock…”
I remembered.
About a month ago, I think. I remember scolding Ji Yeohoon and Yoon Cheong for being noisy from early Sunday morning—was this what that was about?
“You little bastards!”
After knowing these kids for six years, I grabbed both of them by the collar and cursed at them directly.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
