NOVEL NEXT Chapter 9: School 2
The classroom door burst open violently as a small six-year-old girl with silky black hair and cat-like green eyes rushed in. She sprinted to the back row where Ji-Hoon was sleeping and shrieked:
"Ji-Hoon! That jerk from the next class is making fun of me! He says my eyes look like his stupid cat's!"
Ji-Hoon's eyelids rose slowly like millstones grinding. "Shut up... or you'll regret waking me."
But the girl grabbed his shoulders and shook him violently: "If you don't help me, I'll keep bothering you until school ends!"
From outside came ugly laughter. Five larger boys clustered at the door, led by a blond child with narrow eyes. "Oh? Found your guard dog, meow-girl?"
Ji-Hoon didn't respond. He simply stood up, his eyes reflecting the cold of polar ice. "I'll count to three... Get out."
One...
The blond boy stepped forward laughing, but his legs suddenly trembled.
Two...
The boys exchanged nervous glances.
Three!
Ji-Hoon struck like lightning. A single punch sent the blond crashing down, squealing like a terrified pig. The remaining four attacked together, but their bodies collapsed like dominoes under precise blows:
- A spinning kick shattered the first boy's jaw.
- An elbow strike knocked out the second with a spray of blood.
- An inverted fist floored the third before he could blink.
- The fourth... fled untouched!
The blond boy knelt, weeping: "W-what are you?!"
"Someone whose sleep you shouldn't disturb."
As I returned to my seat, I thought: 'I must control my strength... Had I not redirected my punch from his neck to his face and held back, I would've killed him.'
I glared at the source of this trouble—that green-eyed girl—and spat with disgust:
"Can't you stop causing problems?"
She turned her face away, but I saw tears wetting her left cheek. "I... I didn't ask for this!" she whispered, her voice trembling like a trapped butterfly.
At that moment, we heard the teacher approaching. I surveyed the chaos I'd created:
- The blond clutching his broken nose.
- Three boys moaning on the floor.
- The fourth hiding behind the door, watching wide-eyed.
Before the teacher entered, I grabbed the girl's wrist: "You'll say they attacked first... that I was defending you."
She looked at me with rain-fresh windowpane eyes: "But... that's not true!"
For the first time in years, I smiled—a bitter smile that didn't reach my eyes: "At school... lies save you better than strength."
The sound of rapid footsteps...
The door flew open to reveal Teacher Song Da-Ee, her gold-framed glasses flashing with stern anger. She assessed the scene:
- The blond boy whimpering over his nose.
- Three children writhing on the floor.
- Me standing rigid, the girl trembling like a drenched sparrow.
"What in hell happened here?!"
The girl opened her mouth, but I cut in:
"They tried stealing her notebook. I stopped them."
Teacher Song stared at me like examining a forged painting. "You... the silent one... fight like a demon?"
The girl suddenly yanked her arm free and shouted angrily:
"He's lying! They just mocked my eyes! He attacked them like they weren't even human!"
Heavy silence.
I smacked my forehead, thinking: *What did I do in a past life to deserve this girl?*
Teacher Song's voice sliced the air:
"Ji-Hoon! My office! NOW!"
Then she coldly addressed the girl:
"You... take these fools to the infirmary."
As I followed her, I heard students whispering:
"He's insane... took down four alone!"
"No—a monster... look at his eyes!"
Teacher Song slammed the office door and turned with unsettling curiosity—not anger, but piercing interest.
"Who trained you to fight like that?" she asked, touching her right shoulder as if remembering old pain.
I answered coldly:
"No one. Instinct."
She pressed her lips together, then pulled a photo from her drawer showing children at a training camp.
"Instinct? Six-year-olds don't have killer instincts... unless they're trained."
My heart stopped—*Does she know?* But the photo just showed a normal judo class.
"I don't know what you mean."
She stared silently before commanding:
"Your father will come tomorrow."
Indifferently, I replied:
"I have no father."
"Your mother then?"
"She left me with my father and married another man."
Her angry eyes scrutinized me for hidden lies.
"One-week suspension!"
I shrugged and left without looking back.
---
Walking through empty halls, I heard light footsteps—the green-eyed girl running after me with her pink notebook.
Annoyed, I snapped:
"What do you want now, Ha-Yeon?"
Ha-Yeon looked down, fidgeting with her blue backpack's strap:
"I'm sorry, Ji-Hoon... Halmeoni says liars go to hell." She pulled out a yut candy wrapped in pink paper and offered it with trembling hands:
"Take it... forgive me... please."
I stared at the candy, then at her moonlit-tear eyes—eyes that had seen too much for her age.
Sighing, I whispered softer than shifting pebbles:
"Fine... whatever."
I reached out slowly, as if touching fire, and took the candy. At that moment, strange warmth spread from my fingers—not the anger I knew, but something warmer... more dangerous.
Ha-Yeon suddenly looked up, eyes widening:
"You... you're smiling?"
Only then did I realize my lips had curved without command—as if remembering something ancient, from before my life became the White Room.