One-Room Dictator 1

Dormitory life? It was just changing locations from his one-room apartment, so he thought there wouldn’t be much difficulty. The fact that he’d have to live with a stranger as a roommate was a bit concerning, but Kim Bonoh had never experienced any problems with interpersonal relationships before.

He’d ended up in the dormitory because he’d lived “a little” messily in his room, but so what? All guys in their early twenties live pretty much the same way. He figured as a fellow guy in his early twenties, his roommate would surely understand.

But Bonoh soon realized that when your roommate is ‘Joo Taeseong,’ the story flows in a completely different direction. Joo Taeseong was different from other guys in their early twenties.

“Here.”

Taeseong, who had been sitting at his desk, handed Bonoh a piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

“Rules to follow from now on. I wrote them hastily so there are only a few, but I’ll gradually add supplementary ones. If you want anything added, just let me know.”

Only a few? Gradually add supplementary ones? Bonoh let out a snort as soon as he took the paper. In that brief time, Taeseong had been diligent enough to fill it with neat handwriting. At the top of the paper was written in large letters ‘Room 309 Usage Rules,’ with detailed items listed below as cleanly as if drawn with a ruler.

The clauses were detailed enough to make him doubt his eyes. Everything from limits on alarm frequency to snack consumption regulations, and even clauses about rest time.

“…Lights out at 23:00?! What is this, the military?”

The more Bonoh read Taeseong’s rules, the more absurd he found them. What the hell? I definitely finished my military service. Is this the army or civilian life? This was all because he’d gotten stuck with someone like Joo Taeseong as a roommate. What kind of person is this? Are all Political Science and International Relations majors like this?

“We need standards if we don’t want to fight.”

Taeseong’s cold response to his protest made anger slowly rise within him. Bonoh was certain of it. Just as Kim Bonoh from Japanese Language and Literature couldn’t speak Japanese, Joo Taeseong completely lacked the qualities for Political Science and International Relations. Joo Taeseong was closer to a dictator.

“If that guy becomes a politician later, he’ll ruin the whole country…”

“Politician? Me?”

“You’re majoring in Political Science and International Relations, so what else would you become if not a politician?”

“Then do Japanese Literature majors become Japanese?”

“Argh…!”

Bonoh bit his lower lip in frustration and glared at Taeseong. Not that Taeseong cared much about it.

In the end, Room 309’s lights-out time was pushed back just slightly. Bonoh wasn’t satisfied, but decided to settle for that. The other items in the ‘Room 309 Usage Rules’ were overshadowed by the lights-out time and didn’t even catch his attention.

Bonoh revised his opinion that Taeseong lacked the qualities for Political Science and International Relations. With just a small concession, Taeseong had managed to keep most of the rules intact—he was a born negotiator.

***

“So when you watch porn, do you understand everything even without subtitles?”

Yeah, he’d been wondering when this question would come up. Bonoh looked toward the distant mountains with an expression that said ‘here we go.’

On the first day of the semester after returning from his leave of absence, Kim Bonoh was lamenting his fate of inevitably becoming a loner when he ran into a familiar face in his morning class. It was Hyungwoo, whom he’d gotten to know through a group project in a general education class before his leave. Bonoh sighed in relief and greeted Hyungwoo. It felt somewhat awkward to suddenly act friendly after no contact, but fortunately Hyungwoo welcomed him warmly.

The class ended after just orientation. Thanks to that, it was too early for lunch, but Hyungwoo dragged Bonoh to the student cafeteria. And for the sake of the friendless returning student Kim Bonoh, Hyungwoo called his friend Junghwan.

The three sat at a table in the empty cafeteria with their silver meal trays. Perhaps because there were no people around, the food came out quickly. At Hyungwoo’s urging, Bonoh had a somewhat awkward introduction with Junghwan. And now, after hearing he was a Japanese Literature major, Junghwan had asked ‘that question.’

Do you understand porn without subtitles?

It was a question he’d heard to the point of being sick of it before his leave of absence. He was almost happy to hear it after so long. Hearing words that any Japanese Literature student would have heard at least once, Bonoh thought, ‘Ah, I really am back at school.’

“Hey, look at Kim Bonoh’s grades. This guy’s a patriot.”

When grades came up, Bonoh felt a surge of emotion. He wouldn’t have been so frustrated if he’d just thrown away his grades and everything else to party day and night with freshman enthusiasm.

Unfortunately, Bonoh had never missed a class, gave his all to every assignment, and took exams seriously. Despite this, he received low grades because he was in Japanese Literature.

Kim Bonoh was a rare ‘muggle’ (in their language, someone who wasn’t an otaku) in the Japanese department. As the second son and youngest of two sons and one daughter, Bonoh had never managed to hold onto the TV remote even once as a child, unable to withstand the pressure from his much older brother and sister.

When he’d turn on the TV saying he wanted to watch the cartoons all the neighborhood kids were watching, his brother or sister would suddenly appear and snatch the remote away. If it was his brother, comedy shows would replace the cartoons; if his sister took it, music programs would fill the screen. Sometimes both his brother and sister would appear, and they’d either fight until one claimed the remote or compromise on a variety show, but they never turned to the channel Bonoh wanted.

Thanks to this, Bonoh grew up not knowing even fairly popular cartoons. Among first-year Japanese department students meeting for the first time, cartoons were definitely the easiest topic to break the ice. When seniors or classmates who discovered Bonoh was a muggle would say “You must know this cartoon, right?” it was always something he’d never seen, which was awkward.

Otaku classmates would also recommend various anime, saying they’d “promote” them to him. They’d recommend this and that, saying he absolutely had to watch certain things, and would even shove streaming screens right in front of Bonoh’s eyes. At first, he’d at least pretend to watch due to their enthusiastic promotional attitude, but gradually Bonoh’s eyes would become as glazed as a frozen fish’s when faced with anime screens.

What’s supposed to be fun about this? Perhaps his true feelings showed on his face, because his classmates would desperately plead that it gets interesting from episode 5, just watch a little more. Can’t I just start from episode 5? When he’d ask that, they’d get furious and say there were reasons for the early development.

As for why he’d entered Japanese Literature, it was because during college counseling in his senior year of high school, his homeroom teacher had said the university’s reputation was more important than the department. Among the departments he could enter with his grades, he’d chosen Japanese Literature without much thought. He figured Japanese, with its similar word order to Korean, would be better, and he’d be more likely to travel to Japan than to Russia or Spain.

Such complacent thinking and momentary errors in judgment made Bonoh’s college life difficult. His otaku classmates’ Japanese skills were already at a high level before even entering university. Even those who weren’t otaku had some level of proficiency.

“Grades can be low. Why are you teasing him about that?”

Junghwan lightly scolded Hyungwoo. While Bonoh had been reflecting on his college life, it seemed Hyungwoo had been mocking Bonoh’s low grades to Junghwan.

“Wow, if it was just low grades, I wouldn’t have teased him! What’s really funny is that when his ex-girlfriend dumped him, it had been 235 days, right? But his GPA was also 2.35.”

“Ah, that story again…”

Hyungwoo’s words made Bonoh sigh involuntarily. The reason he’d taken military leave immediately after his first year, second semester ended was his breakup with his ex-girlfriend. Since his ex-girlfriend happened to be a classmate in his department, such mentions were unwelcome. He considered smacking Hyungwoo on the head, but held back since he was one of the few friends he had at school.

“Hey, at least your ex-girlfriend succeeded in retaking the entrance exam. What would you have done otherwise?”

“Bonoh’s ex-girlfriend retook the entrance exam? That’s good. Make a fresh start.”

“……”

“To celebrate your return, get a blind date. Junghwan, don’t you have connections?”

While the person in question was just eating without a care, Hyungwoo and Junghwan were making a fuss.

“Ah, forget it. Just eat your food.”

Bonoh’s eyes scanned the two meal trays in front of him. Does this guy Hyungwoo have two mouths? The talkative bastard had somehow already finished eating, leaving only breadcrumbs and sauce from his pork cutlet. Junghwan’s tray also had only some cabbage salad and a few pieces of kimchi left. Should I have gotten the pork cutlet too?

Bonoh scooped up a spoonful of omelet rice and stuffed it in his mouth. The finely chopped vegetables were undercooked and the rice was mushy. The oil was floating on top, making it impossible to call delicious—he forced down the omelet rice with its ketchup flavor.

When Bonoh put down his spoon, the three returned their trays and utensils and left the student cafeteria.

“When’s your next class?”

“I have one left in the afternoon, but there are still a few hours.”

Bonoh answered while recalling his schedule.

“Hey, perfect. Park Junghwan and I are done for today, so you can come to your place and drink.”

Hyungwoo and Junghwan’s eyes sparkled side by side.

“I moved into the dorms when I returned. Let’s go to a bar later. Is that tent bar by the main gate still there?”

“That place closed ages ago. Then contact us later. Same number?”

Bonoh exchanged numbers with Junghwan and headed to the dormitory.

Having lived in Jeju Island for nearly 20 years, Bonoh had declared to his family that he would live alone as soon as he entered university. His parents seemed dubious, but after following them around for three days and nights pleading, they reluctantly gave permission.

Bonoh, who had cheered in triumph, was full of excitement about living alone. I’ll decorate my place nicely, keep it clean, and live well. That’s what he had resolved to do.