I TAKE THE elevator up to the sixth floor, head in the clouds.
What the hell was that freaky ass dream? Goddess of Life? Really? That's the best my brain could come up with?
I walk down the halls, my head hanging low. The school was kind enough to let us take one day off due to Vito's passing, but one day it was.
It doesn't feel like enough, but I'm not sure if it'd really be smart, skipping multiple days like that.
I went through hell to get into this school.
Finally, I find myself standing in front of my homeroom classroom. I think it's strange. Wasn't it just yesterday that I was standing in front of this door, full of bliss?
Now I just want to get everything over with.
I push the somewhat big door open. Immediately, I'm struck by the room's imposing yet elegant architecture. Towering wooden panels line the walls, polished to a rich amber sheen that seems to glow in the natural light streaming through the tall, arched windows. The windows themselves stretch nearly from floor to ceiling, their intricate frames dividing the light into soft beams that cascade across the room. Despite its academic purpose, its atmosphere is quiet and reverent, save for the distant rustling of papers and the occasional creak of the wooden benches.
The seating is arranged in a gentle slope, with rows of tiered desks and benches that curve around the room in a semicircle, ensuring every student would have a clear view of the lecturer and the blackboard at the front. The desks, crafted from the same warm wood that covers the walls, have clearly seen generations of students pass through, their surfaces worn smooth and shiny in places where countless hands have rested.
At the front of the room, a large blackboard is centered between two old-fashioned wooden podiums. Above the board, a large poster of the bow and arrow elements hangs as a constant reminder of the subject matter at hand, its muted colors blending with the more traditional aesthetic of the room. A mounted projector casts a modern touch, displaying a complex diagram on a large white screen that contrasts sharply against the wood-dominated décor. The combination of the room's classical design and modern technology creates a somewhat cozy feeling. For me at least.
High above, the ceiling arches gracefully, with intricate moldings framing the upper edges of the walls. Despite its size, the room feels intimate, its architecture designed to draw attention toward the front, where knowledge is about to be shared. The air is cool, carrying the faint scent of polished wood, old paper, and magical incense.
If I'm not mistaken, this used to be a practitioner room. Students were taught new magic spells and they also practiced here. It seems like some spells are still lingering. I just saw someone's nose turn purple. And everyone seems to wear a mask of apathy. Maybe it's always been like that.
I'm not the first one to get here, that's for sure. Students are chatting away without a care in the world. With a sigh, I walk over to my seat—right at the front. My bag weighs a thousand kilos.
I slip onto one of the benches to stay seated at the very edge. I'm not a big fan of sitting in the middle for some reason. It feels stuffy and packed. I'd also rather have easy access to the washroom, for example, when I want to.
I take out a notebook for this subject and a 0.5 lead pencil. Looking inside, I've now noticed that I've forgotten my lunch. Hooray. I will starve today too.
It's not that the food here at the academy is bad. In fact, it's wonderful. Some of the best food I've ever eaten. I just don't have the money for it. Plus, I've always preferred homemade meals.
Mr. Bellford enters and the class goes silent (almost) instantly. Some people scramble to their seats while some stride leisurely.
Is it bad I haven't made any friends yet? Correct; is it bad that my only school friend is dead? Well, we kind of only knew each other for a period, but still. He seemed like a good guy.
I know Fran's somewhere at the back, looking at the back of my skull. Burning holes into it. But for whatever reason, I can't bring myself to really care.
"Good morning, 9A1." Mr. Bellford speaks with a weary drawl, that petty look still plastered onto his face.
Before waiting for a "Good morning" or "Hello" back, he jumps right into the lesson. Contrary to the huge poster above, the first period is about Religion.
The lesser known ones. Kind of like how in elementary they taught you about one minority for a month and then never spoke about it again.
Mr. Bellford starts off this lesson by saying that this religion doesn't have a name. It's more like a folktale.
"Defics!" He announces. "Anyone know what those are?"
I'm surprised when I'm the only one who raises up their hand, albeit shyly.
"Yes, Ms. Yeon. What are Defics?" He turns back to the blackboard before I can answer, chalk in hand, ready to write something down in his sloppy handwriting.
"Um," I hesitated. "Defics are Gods that are said to roam over planets and galaxies, observing the beings that live inside. They're similar to Greek Gods, in a way."
"How?" He prompts, scribbling down my answer onto the large black expanse, though much shorter.
Defics - Gods that rule over planets and galaxies. Similar to Greek Gods.
My hands are sweaty and beginning to clam up. I'm sure at least one other person knows. Why am I getting all the questions?
I have to remind myself to breathe before I answer. "Defics rule over a certain thing, like Greek Gods. For example, there's Tetress, the Goddess of Life."
He writes that down, excluding my Tetress example. I'm not sure why I'm upset about that. Probably because of that silly dream. "Thank you, Ms. Yeon," he says, and I slump back into my chair with relief.
I don't like being called on in class. I raised my hand because I thought he was just surveying the class, trying to figure out where to start in lessons.
Curse my uneducated classmates.
I hang my head to look back at my notebook, picking up the pencil I placed beside it. In the top right corner, I write, September 9th, the subject, and the unit.
"Defics, in a folktale, are Gods who are rumored to stalk over world and galaxies, observing the beings below. When they like a being, or human ... .Can anyone tell me what they do?"
I don't raise my hand this time. I've learned from my mistakes.
But Mr. Bellford must hate me anyway, or maybe he's farsighted and not wearing his glasses, because his eyes are immediately drawn to me.
I am never sitting in the front again.
"Ms. Yeon," his loud voice booms. "I have a feeling you know the answer. Mind sharing your thoughts?"
I can feel my cheeks get warmer as I share my answer, my eyes glued to my empty notebook. "They incarnate the being, turning that thing into a Demi-God of sorts."
"Very good!" He says, turning to write my answer down on the blackboard.
I can feel gazes burning into the back of my head. I can literally feel my hair follicles falling out.
Or maybe that's the lingering magic incense. I have no clue.
I write down all I've answered onto my notepad.
This is nothing new to me. When I was younger, all of this nonsense was practically drilled into me. In my homeland, stories like this are extremely popular. I've heard that a religion was slowly being developed around it too.
Is it because I look different? Is that why this man keeps calling on me? He thinks I'll know?
I mean, he's not wrong. I do.
Whatever.
For the rest of class, Mr. Bellford yaps about the pyramid of defics, which I know by heart. But then the person beside me whispers that he frequently checks and marks notes, so I draw the pyramid anyway.
At the bottom is Demi-Gods, or Defic incarnates. So basically the chosen humans. Right after that there's the obscure defics. They're basically what the name suggests. Defic of Laziness, the Defic of Chemicals, the Defic of Discord, gods like that. Next are the Sub-Elemental Defics. They're under the elemental category. Mr. Campbell speaks animatedly about the Water sub-elementals—the Defic of Blood, the Defic of Healing, the Defic of Spirit Bending and the Defic of Ice. But he doesn't mention the other ones, saving them for another class.
The elementals are simple, he says they're basically the elements we already know, fire, water, wind and earth. But he also says there are some niche elements too that are included in this part of the pyramid.
"Can anyone name another of these elements?" There is pure silence. "C'mon, anyone?"
And I feel in my bones, my sixth sense. I already know before I see his gaze slowly sweep over to where I'm sitting, making direct eye contact with me.
This is, for sure, the last time I ever sit at the front.
"Ms. Yeon!" He says a little too happily. In my mind, he likes seeing his students suffer. "Could you please name us a few?"
He turns to the blackboard, chalk in hand. His hand is extended as he waits for me to bestow knowledge onto my classmates.
My classmates also seem to have a major staring problem.
"Sir," I started slowly. "Those other elementals are the Defic of Darkness, the Defic of Light, the Defic of Life, the Defic of Death, the Defic of Sound and the Defic of Nature."
Mr. Campbell nods in approval as he writes down all I've said in sloppy handwriting. "And do you know the difference between the Defic of Nature and the Defic of Earth?"
Yes, in fact, I do. But I'm seriously considering lying, just so he gets off my back.
I think about it, and decide against my idea. It wouldn't kill me to answer this last part, right?
"Nature has more abilities related to plants, wood, flowers, and cacti, the mannerisms of things in nature, as well as animals. Earth has abilities related to mountains, large bodies of water, and rocks." I rushed out. I just want this to be over.
"Very good!" He exclaims, and I can hear the smile in his voice. He doesn't write down what I said.
The bell rings, finally signifying that class is over. Well, this class is over. I still have my dreaded archery.
My goal for that? Make sure I don't get paired up with Fran. No matter what.
***
I've just discovered God hates me.
Day two for this elemental archery class, and I get paired up with him.
Fran smiles at me, as if he totally didn't murder a boy the other day. "Jeong-min! What a coincidence! We're partners!"
I hum, not wanting to respond to him. I instead took out my brand new cellphone (that I had to beg my mom to get). Luckily, she was planning on getting me a new phone anyway.
The boy beside me doesn't seem to get the hint, resting my head over his shoulder. "Don't you know? You're not supposed to have that out here." He taps on my screen. "That should be in your locker."
And he's tapped on some sketchy article. Great. I definitely have a virus.
"Right. Thank you." I say with a strained smile, even though I've read the student-handbook cover to cover
Just fifty minutes, Jeong-min. Fifty minutes.
After I go back inside to drop my phone, I make sure to take extra long to get back onto the field. It's mostly because of Fran, but I'm starting to dislike the teacher as well.
Mr. O'Brien was a real jerk about Vito's death. "He should have been paying more attention to his surroundings," my ass. What about the kid who hit him?
Sadly, after a good 10 minutes, I found myself back on the field. Yay!
Fran's already picked out arrows for us, the water ones. I especially don't want to use those today, but it doesn't seem like I'm being given a choice.
How can this guy be so cheerful, so happy after all he's done? He's too smiley, even after I pushed him down the stairs that day.
I think he might need a bit of help. Just a bit.
As we're walking to an empty space on the field, I make sure to be as far away from the other students as possible. As far as I know, Water arrows are sort of useless and mostly used for defense. But I'm pretty sure this clown could make anything dangerous if he used 1% of his brain. Which is still quite unlikely, but you can never be too careful.
"Need any help with using the arrows?" He asks.
"No." I reply, with a curt shake of my head.
"You sure?"
"No."
"Are you super, duper—"
"Oh my days, fine! You can help me!"
He pumps his fist into the air like he's just won a war.
I groan internally. I said I'd let him help me, but I lied. Just enough to get him to shut up for a while is all I need.
Though it seems that this fool is simply incapable of taking social cues. He presses up behind me, keeps his face in the crook of my neck, and inhales. I shudder.
Fran wraps his hands around mine, guiding me to shoot. I know how to do this, of course, but it was strangely a learning point for me. It seemed that Fran was truly more skilled—much to my dismay—and this was very beneficial for me to learn. Still didn't mean I liked it though.
I let go of the arrow when he instructs and watch it soar through the air. Once it reached its maximum height, the arrow convulsed in the sky, wiggling like an earthworm. It then burst like a water balloon and showered the grass in a radius of about 5 metres or 16.4 feet. Some water droplets splashed on me and I huffed in slight annoyance. I don't think Fran minded at all.
These have to be some of the weakest water arrows they create. Which makes sense. We are first years, after all, and don't want us to get hurt. Fucking hypocrites. I'm starting to think that the reason Fran got a slap on the wrist was because his family is well off.
Just 35 more minutes until the end of the period. You can do this, Jeong-min. You can endure. Just don't think about it and endure. Endure.
***
I plod into my house, the weariness setting over my bones like a hundred kilogram weight. Archery class just spurred the whole day into the worst bullshit ever.
Fran kept getting touchy and couldn't get a hint. Seriously, his audaciousness was almost admirable. Almost.
Then physics class almost tore my brain apart. I get that projectiles are something I should know about—you know, because of archery—but nothing was sticking, which really pisses me off. It seemed simple, but my mind just refused to comprehend the information. I'm smart as fuck, so why couldn't I understand some simple formulae? Like someone hexed me. Damn it, what did I ever do to you people?
During lunch, I starved. I couldn't bear seeing students eating good food that I couldn't afford in the cafeteria, so I escaped to the courtyard. It was fairly chilly, so no one in their right mind would come out. I distanced myself from the exit I left from and sat down at the base of a tree. The courtyard was empty and I let out a sigh of relief, expecting to find some peace.
Did I find any? No.
Seriously, this guy had a different lunch period last time I checked. So why was this jackass out here? Did he seriously skip whatever class he had to come here? I would've liked to think that this was all some strange coincidence—that Fran was a skipper and this was just really bad timing. But as I saw his eyes sweep over, looking for something or someone, I knew I'd been fucked over.
Of course this bastard is looking for me.
I internally cursed to the high heavens as this blur of malice skipped over to me.
"Jeong-min!" He exclaimed. The sound of his voice had a unique lilt—one perfected to piss me off. "What a coincidence! You're not eating lunch? You should eat, or you'll lose weight! And we wouldn't want that, would we?"
He flopped down beside me and aggressively squished my cheeks. Fucking hell? I shook my head and managed to get his hands off me.
Was this guy seriously trying to bodyshame me? In this day and age? Wild. One might think I was reading too much into it, but I know what I'm talking about. You have to learn to read in between the lines. To any naive person, it might look like he's concerned for me. But I'm chubby. So what he's actually trying to say is, "You're not eating lunch? Starving yourself won't make any difference, you know. You shouldn't resist your instincts and go and snack on something, instead of getting an eating disorder."
I seriously can't stand this guy.
So he chattered on and on about some stuff I couldn't give a fuck about, and I made it fairly obvious I wasn't paying attention. I know he noticed, but he seemed content with just my presence. Persistent weirdo.
When the bell rang for the end of lunch, I couldn't believe the relief that flooded my system. This guy is at a different caliber. When have I ever been relieved for the end of lunch?
I didn't acknowledge him as I quickly sprinted back inside for my next class. He was too chipper when he yelled at my back, "Bye, Jeong-min!"
From then on, the rest of the day was just…eh. Wasn't really bad, but that guy simply soured my mood for the rest of the day. Luckily, I didn't have to sit next to him on the bus. It seemed like the gods had truly taken pity even on someone like me.
I kick off my shoes and trudge inside. I peek inside the kitchen. No pot on the stove, so Mom has been out all day. It's always on the days I'm starving too.
I take my basic ham sandwich from a ziplock on the counter—the one I forgot to bring to school—and gobble it up in the time it takes for me to ascend the stairs. At least that satiates my hunger.
I'm like a robot, going through the motions mechanically. I unpack my bag, shower, get into something comfy, and finish my homework in record breaking time. Just as I decide it's time for me to catch some sleep, my phone buzzes.
Weird. Not a soul could be texting me at this hour, my social media is barren, and Mom prefers calling. I ignore it, turn off my lights, and slip into my sheets.
And that's when it begins.
Another buzz. Then another. Then four consecutive buzzes. Before I know it, my phone is practically vibrating.
What the fuck?
I unlock my phone, the harsh blue light making me squint in the darkness, just for panic to erupt in my chest.
A groupchat. The reason why my phone sounded like a bomb right before it went off was because of a group chat.
But I've never joined this groupchat.
The most weird part is that it has no name. That cancels any group chat relating to school, where someone could find my number through asking the office.
I hold down and select the 'Leave group' option. Nothing happens. Shit, is this some sort of virus? I can't even see the number of members or who's in it, just the number of unread messages!
Then a memory flashes by. A memory that should've had no business flashing by, but did anyway.
Before archery class, Fran tapped some sketchy ad in an article on my phone. Initially, I thought nothing of it, of course. Don't phones have anti-viruses built in nowadays? But it seems like this stems directly from that. How else? I've barely interacted with my phone all day.
Fran is the bane of my existence, I think bitterly.
My finger accidentally slips and I open the chat. Fuck! I rapidly press the back button at the bottom of my screen, but it's too late. This thing won't let me exit. It won't even let me restart my phone.
I drag a hand down my face. Mom is going to finish me. This phone is brand new, and now it's been riddled with some strange groupchat virus full of anonymous people. Seriously, I can't even see their numbers. Grumbling to myself, I backread.