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Chapter 103

After the chaotic meal time passed.

The leftover sweet and sour pork and spicy shrimp were collected and left in a plastic rice container for reheating.

Since there wasn’t much left, it would likely be finished off by the mascots as well.

What am I going to do for breakfast tomorrow?

“Ah, we should get going!”

As if she was subtly aware of the mascots’ presence, Ji-eun stood up shortly after finishing her meal.

Juwon, who had been whining about not wanting to go home, was eventually dragged toward the entrance under the title of “mother.”

“Well then, are you both ready for school?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

Once Ji-eun and her family left, we naturally headed to our rooms without exchanging a word.

Siyeon, who had grown more aloof since becoming a middle schooler.

I know there’s a saying that siblings should fight sometimes…

But this wasn’t so much fighting as it was a change that naturally occurred without overlapping lives.

It made me feel a bit lonely that our home had become a place where conversations hardly took place.

‘Is this what they call puberty?’

And I still hadn’t even started middle school.

With that thought, Mari headed to some canyon in the game once again.

Lying on a soft bed instead of a computer, Lee Siyeon, now a newbie middle schooler.

Even Siyeon could sense that something was getting awkward and silent between the two of them, naturally noticing it with her growing head and thoughts.

She set aside her favorite anime watching and lay there, her thoughts swirling.

‘It feels awkward.’

Pang, pang! She shook her legs up and down to soothe her lonely feelings with meaningless sounds.

Thinking back, Mari had always been the friend who came closest to the term “mature.”

When I first met Mari at the orphanage, I simply thought she was a smart friend.

At that age, other kids could barely say things like, “I don’t like you!” or “He hit me!”

“Ugh… The cafeteria food is just as bad as a food police!”

Amidst that, Mari was clearly speaking sentences that adults would use.

The orphanage, a place I still have a vivid memory of.

The one who entrusted me there is now a mother whose face I can’t even remember.

As for my dad… I don’t know; I’ve never met him.

Anyway, Mari, who suddenly came to that orphanage… how should I put it, was extraordinary.

Of the few things I remember from those old days, one involves Mari.

Among the orphanage teachers, there was one who frequently hit the kids.

If you didn’t eat, she’d shove a spoon into your mouth, or if you still didn’t eat, she’d hit you…

A daily life filled with indiscriminate violence.

Then, during one bedtime at the orphanage, Mari spoke up in the middle of the night.

“I don’t think that teacher will come back from tomorrow.”

No one expected it and spent the night crying, yet that story turned out to be true.

Honestly… I don’t even know what happened, or how it happened.

But the next day after Mari said that.

For some reason, a group of people with cameras and microphones gathered in front of the orphanage, and sure enough, from that day on, the teacher never appeared again.

When friends asked Mari what happened, she simply explained that the teacher had lived badly and deserved divine punishment.

And we all believed that without question, vowing we shouldn’t live badly, right?

I still don’t know exactly how it all went down, but thinking back now, if she explained it in detail, it’s clear everyone might not have understood back then.

Soon after that incident.

Led by Mari’s hand, we left the orphanage in the dead of night while everyone was asleep.

I still remember it clearly.

I held Mari’s hand tightly with one hand while rubbing my eyes with the other, blindly following wherever she led me.

What on earth was I thinking?

Looking back, it seemed like Mari had everything planned from the moment she entered the orphanage.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have arrived at that apartment, which is now being redeveloped, in a car whose driver she didn’t even know.

‘Genius must be referring to Mari, huh?’

I realized this “alienation” when I was in sixth grade.

Before that, I hadn’t thought much of it.

I played just like everyone else, laughed like everyone else, cried like everyone else…

I was aware from a young age that I didn’t have parents.

Still, I never considered that a misfortune.

From the moment I left the orphanage, Mari had filled in that gap as perfectly as one could hope.

So from the moment I realized that “alienation,” Mari became a bit burdensome.

Despite being the same age, her behavior was much closer to that of an adult.

It was awkward to consider her a friend or a parent.

On days when I would play with school friends and come back, Mari would be busy tapping away at a calculator.

Writing household accounts, just like those moms of my friends did.

I’m sure the conversations we had weren’t all that interesting for her either.

As this awkward relationship persisted, the day of the middle school entrance ceremony finally arrived.

“Did you pack your bag and textbooks well?”

“Yup.”

“If your transportation card goes below 5,000 won, let me know immediately.”

“Yup.”

On the day of the long-awaited entrance ceremony, our conversation was minimal, just what was necessary.

Siyeon’s middle school requires taking a bus, so she leaves a bit earlier.

With a click, as the door shuts, our pace quickens.

We won’t have the housekeeper to help us anymore.

When I was in elementary school, I could get full support for the entire cost of the housekeeper service, but once I crossed into middle school age, that support was suddenly halved.

The structure changes based on age.

When it’s someone else’s money, there’s no regret at all, but when it’s my own, I cut ties with it seamlessly.

Anyway, I’m not attending any additional learning centers.

After school, there’s plenty of housework to do.

‘Is this about the right time to head out…?’

Walking to school normally takes about 20 minutes.

But I hate being late, so I prefer to step out before 30 minutes.

As I glanced back at the now empty house, click.

I checked whether the door was locked tightly, felt the knob turn, confirmed it wouldn’t budge, then headed to the elevator.

As I mixed in with the uniforms on the street, they started to look more similar as the school got closer.

The shabby white name tag stitched onto the jacket is the hallmark of middle school uniforms.

Upon arriving at school, the first place to head to is the assigned classroom.

Stuffing the textbooks securely packed into my bag into a locker or desk, the day of a middle schooler begins.

I figured I’d get stuck in the front row again due to the cursed surname “Kim,” but surprisingly, I found myself at a window seat near the back.

That truly looked like the kind of seat you could easily doze off in.

“We are honored to welcome the 231 new students who are stepping into our school with dreams and hopes during this time of spring when all things are revived.”

“There are parents and various guests present, and I feel very delighted and proud to hold this 61st entrance ceremony. Congratulations and welcome to all of you! As new members of our student family today, you have grown splendidly with your parents’ devoted care and the warm guidance of your elementary school teachers, and now you stand here to take your first step as middle schoolers.”

Meanwhile, there’s the auditorium, which is only used on special days and indoor sports days.

The suffocating words of advice that come with any entrance ceremony.

Honestly, it’s impressive how anyone could come up with such long sentences.

To be frank, if just one of those principals giving these long speeches cut to the chase and said, “Let’s skip the nonsense and welcome you!” they’d be a hit.

“Finally…”

‘Oh, is it ending?’

“The time during which you attend our school will be the most important period for achieving the life goals you set. You can never surpass others if you do things like everyone else. Your forever alma mater…”

‘What the hell.’

I got completely caught off guard by the “finally” part after already being reeled in.

After suffering through this in my previous life, I’m experiencing it again in this one.

You said it was the last, right?

When the monotonous speech finally came to an end, I returned to the unfamiliar classroom and took my place.

To be honest, middle schoolers are just kids who’ve transitioned from elementary school to middle school.

Though they wear uniforms, some still act like elementary schoolers, like they’re just wearing a character skin from a game.

On the other hand, there are male students who seem like they’ve aged way beyond their years.

Right now, that apartment is undergoing redevelopment.

As soon as I opened the window, a faint scent wafted in, the smell of nicotine from cigarettes.

‘That jerk, smoking already.’

A male student who had his head down in the back row, seemingly indifferent to the world.

There’s also a hint of mint, subtly trying to cover up that scent of smoke.

Where on earth do these foolish kids who learn to smoke around the upper grades of elementary school and turn into juvenile delinquents by middle school come from?

It’s quite a mystery.


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