SAV Chapter 11

Just then, I realized I might have been too exposed and quickly pulled my discarded clothes over to cover myself.

 

Choi Jeha picked up an ointment tube with a clatter.

 

“That looks like it might sting too…”

 

“Tell me if it does.”

 

His voice mixed with the distinctive smell of the infirmary, dispersing subtly.

 

“Will you blow on it again?”

 

Soon after, I felt a ticklish sensation on the wound.

 

It hurt less than the antiseptic, but still stung. When I flinched, he immediately blew cool air on the wound.

 

Being in the same space without negative exchanges was a first, and I felt awkward adjusting to it. So I fiddled with my clothes and stared out the window for a while.

 

The sound of tearing paper echoed through the silent infirmary. He gently placed a bandage over the wound, carefully pressing it onto my skin with just his fingertips to avoid causing pain. The mix of stinging pain and his ticklish touch created an odd sensation.

 

‘He’s surprisingly delicate about unnecessary things.’

 

As I sat there dazed, I could see dust particles floating in the sunlight streaming through the window to the bed.

 

My throat felt ticklish and dry.

 

Just as I was thinking about a cool glass of water—

 

The infirmary door opened suddenly. Startled, I quickly threw on my shirt as if caught doing something wrong. Choi Jeha blocked my view of whoever entered, but I assumed it was the school nurse returning.

 

However…

 

“The homeroom teacher wants you in the staff room.”

 

It was a student’s voice, not an adult’s. I peeked around Choi Jeha’s body and made eye contact with the unpleasant-looking student at the door. He was the one with sharp monolid eyes who had been sitting next to me when I first woke up here.

 

His gaze, alternating between me and Choi Jeha, was far from friendly.

 

‘Oh… this doesn’t feel good.’

 

The students involved in the flowerbed incident were called to the staff room. Choi Jeha and I followed behind the student.

 

The matter was resolved faster than I expected. The student who had pushed Lee Gyuseong was the grandson of Rao Jena Foundation’s chairman, so the homeroom teacher tried to quietly bury the incident. Without proper disciplinary action, it wrapped up in less than ten minutes.

 

It was an unsatisfactory conclusion for the victim.

 

Lee Gyuseong was mentioned several times during the one-sided lecture. That’s how I learned that the monolid student who brought us here was Lee Gyuseong.

 

The homeroom teacher, after rambling about unrelated matters, tapped the desk and said:

 

“Lee Gyuseong, Baek Yeonjun, Lee Hyunwook. Even if it wasn’t intentional, you should apologize since a friend almost got hurt.”

 

It seemed he wanted to maintain some semblance of authority as a teacher. But who would want such insincere apologies…

 

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

“…”

 

Lee Gyuseong didn’t even open his mouth. At their empty apologies, Choi Jeha turned away. His face showed no disappointment—just resignation, as if he had expected this outcome.

 

“Hey, if you’re going to apologize, look at the person while doing it.”

 

Concerned about Choi Jeha’s reaction, I said this didn’t feel like a real apology and asked them to apologize again properly.

 

“We just did. What more do you want?”

 

The chairman’s grandson, who wouldn’t dare make a sound in front of Cha Eunseong, acted nonchalant in front of the teachers. Picking up on his signal, the homeroom teacher told us to return to class so we wouldn’t be late.

 

*How hard is it to tell someone to apologize properly?* When I stubbornly refused to leave until an apology was given, the teacher raised his voice.

 

“Because of you, no one else can leave either. It doesn’t matter whether you attend class or not since your grades are at the bottom, but other students need to go to class.”

 

It was obvious that no matter how much I persisted, Lee Gyuseong wouldn’t apologize, and the teacher would just keep provoking me. If this weren’t a teacher-student situation, I would’ve told him not to live his life like that. Annoyed as I was, I held back because the vice principal had been glancing at me from the moment we entered the staff room.

 

If I argued with the teacher and ended up getting disciplined by the vice principal, it would interfere with my plans to rebuild my relationship with Choi Jeha.

 

“By the way, Jeha, let’s have a quick talk,” the teacher said.

 

As Choi Jeha turned and took a few steps away, Lee Gyuseong and the other students roughly shoved past him, hitting his shoulder hard. The homeroom teacher saw it but pretended not to notice, busying himself with organizing papers on his desk.

 

“They’re the ones who made a mistake—why are they taking it out on the victim?”

 

I couldn’t stand the teacher’s behavior and loudly pointed out what had just happened so everyone could hear. As eyes turned toward us, I sarcastically brushed off Jeha’s shoulder as if something dirty had touched him.

 

“What a load of crap,” Lee Gyuseong muttered under his breath, glaring at me before leaving the staff room.

 

“Wow, teacher! That guy just swore in this sacred school! Seriously… unbelievable!” I exclaimed mockingly.

 

“And isn’t ‘guy’ a swear word too? Hurry up and get back to class,” the teacher snapped.

 

His voice grew louder, and I realized that if I pushed further, the vice principal—who was still watching me—would step in. Reluctantly, I blended in with the group of students leaving but quickly circled back by joining another group entering. Quietly moving toward the key rack near the teacher’s desk, I retrieved and returned the recycling station key I had “borrowed” a few days ago.

 

“This way, you’ll be off the hook,” I muttered as I hung up the key. Just as I was about to leave again, I overheard their conversation since the key rack wasn’t far from the desk.

 

“Yes, I understand,” Jeha replied flatly to something the teacher said.

 

“The education office is providing support. You only need to pay 300,000 won more. Are you really not going to participate?”

 

‘Ah, they’re talking about the school trip fees.’

 

I vaguely knew about this situation.

 

Though it wasn’t detailed in the synopsis, piecing together clues suggested that scammers had targeted Choi Jeha’s grandmother at a bank. They might have swapped her transfer form or pretended to assist her at a counter while stealing her money. Even if they requested a refund from the bank, privacy laws likely prevented them from accessing information about where the money went.

 

Given how much Choi Jeha cherished his grandmother, he probably didn’t report it to the police out of fear that she’d find out and be distressed. She’d collapsed before; he likely wanted to avoid shocking her again.

 

…But why did the teacher have such an awful tone?

 

300,000 won was essentially Choi Jeha’s monthly living expenses. Yet the teacher’s words sounded as though he couldn’t understand why Choi Jeha wouldn’t go when he only had to pay less than others thanks to financial support from the education office.

 

‘How can someone who isn’t paying judge money’s value by their own standards?’

 

I questioned his qualifications as a teacher.

 

“It would be good for you to participate in school events and make friends. Why do you always isolate yourself?” he added.

 

Anger surged through me instantly—I clenched my fists tightly. It was already absurd that this so-called teacher couldn’t recognize a bullied student. Now he was saying things that would hurt Choi Jeha even more? Unbelievable.

 

If this wasn’t the staff room and that guy wasn’t my homeroom teacher, I would’ve punched him right in the face.

 

“For me, getting into university is more important than socializing,” Choi Jeha replied.

 

As I was glancing at Choi Jeha, I noticed the geography teacher getting up from the seat next to the homeroom teacher and walking towards us. I quickly slipped out of the staff room.

 

Not wanting to show that I’d overheard their conversation, I headed straight for the classroom.

 

‘But that 300,000 won amount… where have I seen that before?’

 

I remembered when I first woke up here and searched Cha Eunseong’s phone for his home address. There was a DM conversation mentioning 300,000 won.

 

I took out the phone from my pocket and checked the DMs immediately.

 

<Me: Your mom still doesn’t know about that 300,000 won, right?>

<Me: If she knew, she’d be so proud of her son^^>

<Lee Gyuseong: Wow… you’re such a backstabbing bastard?>

 

‘This has to be it, right?’

 

With this hunch, as soon as I arrived at the classroom, I walked straight to Lee Gyuseong’s desk, where he sat with his feet up, fiddling with a game console.

 

“Hey.”

 

I looked down at Lee Gyuseong, who was tapping away at his game console, oblivious to the situation.

 

“If it’s about an apology, I’m not doing it. Just go,” Lee Gyuseong answered indifferently, not taking his eyes off the game.

 

“Look at me.”

 

Even when I suggested we talk in the hallway, his hands didn’t stop pressing buttons on the console.

 

“What? Just say it here.”

 

“If I say it here, it might be troublesome for you.”

 

Finally, Lee Gyuseong’s gaze shifted from his game to me.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“300,000 won.”

 

“Ah, fucking hell. You’re being a pain in the ass from the morning, you bastard.”

 

Lee Gyuseong, who had been sitting confidently with his butt glued to the chair, seemed to recall something that made him uncomfortable. He threw the game console onto the desk and stood up.