Chapter 12
Yoon Cheong was so excited that the corners of his mouth remained upturned the entire time we walked to the dormitory together.
Before the regression, and even after regressing back to his first year and meeting me when he was in fifth grade elementary school now, Yoon Cheong had remarkably few smiles. He was the type of kid who showed so little expression that even a slight smile seemed surprising. When I casually asked his parents about it before, they said he hadn’t smiled much since he was a baby.
Both before the regression and now, his stoic nature was simply his innate personality.
That’s not to say the guy had a bad personality. Why would I call him a “hero” or “protagonist” for nothing?
He might be a bit stoic and his words occasionally rough, but he wasn’t particularly difficult to deal with. He didn’t burden others with his responsibilities, never caused trouble, and helped wherever he was needed.
Even before the regression, when Yoon Cheong came to the hospital saying he would stop Ji Yeohoon, and I abruptly held out a knife to him, he might have been surprised but never said anything mean.
Perhaps it’s because he grew up between his teacher father and his mother who, despite being charismatic, showed plenty of affection toward Yoon Cheong.
Yoon Cheong’s father seemed affectionate in his speech but somewhat expressionless. I thought those middle school students must find math class a bit scary.
“Here we are.”
The room next to Yoon Cheong’s? I thought it might be annoying with him visiting every day, but I didn’t ask to change rooms.
Having someone I knew next door was somewhat comforting, and if Yoon Cheong hadn’t changed his behavior patterns from before transferring, he probably wouldn’t hang out much with classmates, so the room next door would be quiet.
Besides, my room was at the end of the corridor, which meant it was a bit of a walk from the stairs, but I liked how quiet it was.
A quiet end room with quiet Yoon Cheong next door—isn’t that perfect luck?
When I opened the door, surprisingly, the dorm room itself was designed for two people.
The room was symmetrical, as if folded in half from the center, like a decalcomania. Single beds were on both sides of the room, with desks and wardrobes neatly arranged.
With a bathroom inside the room, it somehow felt like living in a studio apartment.
“Why are there two beds?”
“It’s originally a double room. When my mom checked the dormitory before, she asked about it. The school was originally designed for more students than there are now. But since they’re selective about who transfers to the third school—not just any Esper or Guide but with specific conditions—the number of students has decreased significantly. There are more empty rooms upstairs in the dorm.”
“I see… Wait, is that a refrigerator? Why is there one on each side?”
“They’re personal refrigerators. The cleaning staff puts snacks in them. If you write down what snacks you want and leave it on your desk, they’ll prepare them separately within a day or two. After that, you’ll get the same menu as everyone else. If you write down drinks too, they’ll put those in as well.”
“Oh, there’s a sandwich inside. Will they give me lemonade if I ask for it?”
“They provide drinks in cans or bottles. As long as the snacks aren’t too complicated, most requests are fine. Come here for now.”
Yoon Cheong moved his hand and sat me down in the chair in front of the desk.
On the desk were textbooks and various stationery items, as well as what looked like a guidebook for school life.
Yoon Cheong, apparently not concerned with the guidebook or other items, handed me some white papers that were placed beside them.
“If you look at the furniture—desk, wardrobe, bed—there are places to put your name. Cleaning is only done for areas with names on them. The refrigerator is also stocked according to the name tag, so put a paper on the refrigerator door too. Sometimes I see kids in class flip their name tags on their door so they don’t get cleaning service.”
“What? Why would they refuse cleaning service?”
“Some people prefer to clean with their own hands.”
“I don’t understand.”
How tiresome is cleaning?
As someone who lived in a studio apartment near the Association before the regression because my home was far away, I couldn’t understand this at all.
Cooking might be annoying, but at least you get to eat afterward. Laundry gives your clothes a nice scent.
But cleaning? If you don’t do it, things get dirty, and if you do, nothing really changes—isn’t it just a bothersome task?
“I’ll definitely never flip that tag. How do classes work here? What about meals?”
“Classes are a bit different, but mostly similar. For meals, unless you’re sick, everyone eats cafeteria food together on the first floor of the dormitory. You need this to eat.”
What’s this? It looked like a barcode wristband like the ones used at public bathhouses.
When I asked if it had other functions, Yoon Cheong shook his head.
“It has exactly the same function. It’s used to check breakfast, lunch, dinner, and track student attendance in class.”
While attendance could be checked by teachers calling out names, they couldn’t go around verifying everyone during meals.
I took the wristband and put it on my wrist.
It had a barcode printed on it with numbers underneath. It really was like a public bathhouse wristband.
Of course, it wasn’t as bulky plastic as those used in real bathhouses. You could choose between black or silver, and it was thinner than expected. From a distance, or if you ignored the barcode, it could pass for a fashion accessory.
Since the wristband itself wasn’t mechanical, it wouldn’t break if it got wet, so many people just wore their preferred color all the time.
“When eating, you decide whether you want Korean or Western food, scan your barcode first, then go in and scan again when you receive your food. Before I came, they used meal tickets.”
“Western food?”
“Last year, when the high school student council president was elected, they added Western dishes to the menu. Parents of middle and elementary school students complained about why only high schoolers got this option, so they changed it to include Western food for everyone this year.”
What is this, a hotel?
I guess rich schools have these perks.
Well, Schools 1, 2, and 4 were known for good meals and facilities due to government funding plus donations from graduates. So what could be said about School 3, which was even more elite and received more support?
Yoon Cheong said he had already picked up my schedule and placed it on the desk.
The schedule arrangement seemed a bit different, but the textbooks were no different from the regular ones I’d seen outside before transferring.
“Academic classes are only in the morning. After 5th period, we have lunch, and in the afternoon, there are usually ability-related classes.”
“Do we have joint classes?”
“Since there are only 20 students in our grade, we do everything together. There are only 5 Guides. Espers have different tendencies, so Guides are scattered here and there, but you should be fine however you want. You’re S-class, right?”
“The class periods seem short.”
“Oh, you’re right.”
Yoon Cheong seemed to have already forgotten after two years here, but elementary school classes were usually 40 minutes with 10-minute breaks.
But this school started at 9:00 with 30-minute classes followed by 10-minute breaks.
After five periods, it would be 12:10, so they’d eat lunch immediately and then move on to classes related to their awakened abilities.
I guess for awakened students, controlling their abilities is more important than general subjects.
Would regular school students think this schedule was like that of an arts or physical education school?
“Oh right, the uniforms are here.”
Yoon Cheong turned around and opened the wardrobe door. Inside hung several sets of uniforms in different sizes. I was told they would collect the extras after I chose the ones that fit.
“Try it on.”
Yoon Cheong handed me a uniform saying it was his size. We used to wear similar sizes before, but wouldn’t it be too big now? I took off my clothes and put on the shirt, which was indeed a bit large.
Thinking this bastard must have grown not just taller but broader too, I put on a smaller size shirt and pants than what Yoon Cheong had offered.
The tie was clip-on, so I just had to put it around my neck. Unlike Yoon Cheong’s yellow one, mine had a blue logo embroidered on it.
After putting on the jacket too, it felt strange, like I’d gone to middle school early.
“Why do we wear uniforms in elementary school?”
“You’ll understand when you go to class tomorrow…”
Yoon Cheong hesitated.
Thinking there must be a reason, I just said I understood and changed back into my clothes.
Perhaps because of the sudden change in environment, I wasn’t particularly hungry, so I sent Yoon Cheong away and collapsed onto the bed.
This mattress is better than the one in my room…
* * *
I stared blankly at the ceiling and when I came to my senses, it was the next day.
Checking my phone, I saw 5 missed calls, 15 chat messages, and 3 text messages.
The chat messages were from Ji Yeohoon, while the calls and texts were from Yoon Cheong—messages about going to breakfast together and that he was going ahead—all of which I had missed because I’d slept so soundly.
I had overslept on my first day, and the time was now 8:40.
“I’m really fucked.”
I quickly texted Yoon Cheong that I just woke up, ran into the bathroom for a quick shower, and came out without properly drying my hair to change clothes.
With the sandwich from the refrigerator that I’d spotted yesterday in my mouth, I opened the door to find Yoon Cheong standing there, letting out a deep sigh.
“Didn’t you go to sleep right away yesterday?”
“I did.”
“You slept for 12 hours…?”
I’m as surprised as you are, so stop being amazed, okay?
Following Yoon Cheong as we ran toward the classroom, I saw the fifth-grade classroom.
Unlike regular schools where teachers introduce new students on the first day, this school had a system where students transferred immediately upon awakening their abilities, so they were used to new students coming in.
As I stepped into the classroom where all 20 students in our grade would study together, all eyes turned to me.
There were a few students as tall as Yoon Cheong, some with blue ties like mine, and about three adults with yellow logo ties…
Wait, adults? Looking at Yoon Cheong, he nodded.
“Some of the Espers would be indistinguishable from teachers if they didn’t wear uniforms.”
He was saying those kids who looked almost 180cm tall were the same age as me.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
