"How am I supposed to wear a skirt?!"
"What are you on about? You want to show up to school in pants by yourself?"
The biggest obstacle I faced before starting middle school wasn't anything academic. It was the school uniform.
Standing in front of the mirror, watching the hem flutter around my legs—I hated to admit it, but it actually suited me pretty well.
Still, there was this… how do I put it.
A visceral rejection?
My lower half felt so exposed that with every step, a cool draft seemed to sweep past my calves. The lack of fabric left me feeling weirdly naked, and I became hyper-aware of every single movement.
*Ugh, everyone just walks around like this?*
Sitting down meant clamping my knees together and keeping my ankles neatly aligned. I couldn't even break into a run without thinking twice.
"It's uncomfortable, I'm telling you."
"Well, since it's come to this, try to carry yourself with a little more grace."
Mom has absolutely zero idea what I'm going through!
There was no point arguing about something she couldn't empathize with.
So I tried a different angle instead.
"What if I just wore pants? Like, as my own thing."
"Oh, for goodness' sake. You wear those princess dresses at home just fine."
"Wh— what?! That's only because Dad went and bought nothing but those kinds of clothes, so I had no choice!"
"Sure, sure. Like you'd keep wearing something you hated. Should I pull up that commercial you filmed when you were little? You were smiling so brightly… I genuinely thought you were the reincarnation of a magical girl."
Mom's barrage of facts left me completely dazed.
*That's so unfair!*
Dad was the one who went and bought nothing but pink, frilly things.
I only wore them because I didn't want to waste the money.
…Well, okay. Fine.
The fabric wasn't bad quality, and they did look good on me in the mirror, so there was a certain satisfaction in that. And it wasn't like anyone outside was watching, so I didn't really care.
*Anyway! A school uniform is a completely different story! I have to wear it every single day!*
"Oh ho ho, this student is absolutely perfect for it. Honestly, out of all the kids I've sold to, she's the best I've seen. She could model school uniforms~"
"Right? My Chae-won even filmed commercials when she was little, you know?"
"Oh my! Of course~ I could tell from the way she wears it~ She's practically a celebrity! A celebrity~"
My complaints were completely steamrolled as the shop owner and my mom chattered away with each other, delighted, and breezed right through the payment.
*
The school I enrolled in was Eunha Middle School, right next door.
The rumor that had followed me around in fifth grade—the one about me being from a mob family—had cleanly vanished by sixth grade.
After the tearful incident with Mom, I'd started actively setting the record straight. And the sixth-graders who'd started the rumor in the first place graduated, so it faded away naturally.
As for me—
I held onto the top spot in the school all the way through sixth grade, successfully creating future drinking-story material: *"Hey, I'll have you know I was a prodigy back in the day! Never once lost the number one ranking!"*
Thanks to that, Eunha Middle School asked if I'd like to go up on stage as the incoming student representative, but I turned it down.
Being the representative felt like a bit too much pressure.
Because, well…
*Oh no. Oh no, no, no. My memory of third-year middle school content is already getting fuzzy…?*
Even with memories of completing higher education in a past life, things were starting to get rough. I wasn't exactly bad at studying, but I wasn't particularly good either—I was always that frustratingly in-between kind of student.
I'll offer Mom a quiet, preemptive apology, even if I can't say it out loud.
Mom… don't be too shocked, okay?
I took a little peek at the middle school curriculum, and, well.
Your daughter's grades are going to start slipping around second year, and by third year, we might be hitting rock bottom.
But don't worry.
Your daughter is really good at gold farming.
Not joking—genuinely good at it. And as luck would have it, the game for that comes out around first year of high school.
I'll earn money instead.
What's that based on, you ask?
Come on, you saw the stocks I bought back in elementary school, didn't you?
Even I nearly fell over when I saw it.
They went up fivefold.
My 100,000 won is still sitting there safe, right?
I'm counting on it. I was saving it for when I'd really need it, so if it's gone… I'm genuinely going off the rails…
*To: Mom.*
"Haah……"
I couldn't bring myself to say any of it out loud. I just gazed wistfully up at the sky and nodded to myself.
"Why are you standing there looking all mopey by yourself?"
"Huh? When did you get here?"
Kim Si-yeon had, of course, also enrolled at Eunha Middle School.
When you're little, everyone just goes to the school closest to home.
"But how are we in the same class again? I'm so tired of you."
"What?! We were in different classes in sixth grade! That's so mean—I was so happy when I found out we were in the same class!"
"I never said I didn't want that…"
"You said you were tired of me! Tired of me!"
Ugh, see, that's exactly why she's exhausting.
I half-heartedly coaxed and soothed the whining Si-yeon, and we headed to the classroom together.
The hem of my skirt swished back and forth.
The lady at the uniform shop had told me that rolling up the skirt was trendy among girls who wanted to show off a little, and she'd tried to take in the length of mine too.
I refused flat-out.
I'd accidentally tried on a shorter one, and I genuinely thought: absolutely not.
Even now, I felt strangely exposed with every step, constantly second-guessing myself.
*Ugh, I'm serious—I'd feel a wave of shame every time I climbed a staircase.*
So I had my skirt hemmed a little longer than the standard length.
Maybe all my insisting about wearing pants had some effect, because Mom didn't say a word about it.
"Should I get mine lengthened too……"
Si-yeon, who'd been sneaking glances at my legs, murmured to herself.
"No no no, the shorter length suits you."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah."
I personally prefer shorter skirts when I'm just looking at them. The problem is only when I have to be the one wearing it.
Even so, Si-yeon couldn't seem to take her eyes off my skirt. Just as I was starting to feel a little self-conscious—
"Hyeek?!"
Out of nowhere, a hand reached over and—
"It's just that when Chae-won wears it. Even the pleats here look really luxurious."
"Hey, hey, you little— wh, where do you think you're touching?!"
"Hm? What's the big deal?"
"It's, it's embarrassing out in public! A girl your age!"
"You're overreacting over me touching a skirt."
She'd suddenly started tugging at my skirt, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.
God, I thought she was trying to take it off.
Are all girls just this shameless by default?
"Don't be so stingy—you touch it too. Here."
"I don't want to!"
She'd been glued to my side since kindergarten, sure.
*But we're older now! Middle schoolers should have some self-restraint, you absolute menace!*
I pressed my lips together and glared at her with wide eyes until she finally pulled her hand away.
That said, I don't dislike or hate Si-yeon. If anything, she's about the closest thing I have to a real friend.
They say you become like the people you spend time with, but she's the complete opposite of me.
She loves knitting and feminine hobbies.
She kept up with her tutoring and her grades kept climbing steadily.
She'd even confidently run for class president to take over the role I never wanted—and she was a legitimate top student now.
Probably, as more time passed, Si-yeon would overtake a fake prodigy like me.
I didn't have any particular drive when it came to studying, so I wasn't jealous or anything.
When a friend does well, that's a good thing. Yep.
And something I realized when I got my class assignment in middle school—
There were plenty of familiar faces from elementary school, but none of them were as close to me as Si-yeon.
I think I'd ended up forming the kind of social network that was wide but shallow.
Not intentionally.
It just sort of happened that way.
The things I liked to do aligned more with the boys' side of things.
Back in elementary school, I'd made some effort to hang out with the boys, but…
It never really clicked.
I'd never had friends in my past life either, so I genuinely didn't know how to close the distance.
And seeing them look awkward around me stung a little, quietly…
*Classic overthinker move—get rejected once and never try again.*
But joining the girls' groups wasn't exactly easy either.
Whenever I ended up in the middle of their giggling circles, I'd somehow find myself surrounded on all sides, and something about that situation felt embarrassing—I didn't know where to look.
*Maybe I shouldn't have made such a big deal about being top of the school… Maybe the other kids found it intimidating.*
One thing led to another, and here I am now.
The only person I can proudly call a friend is Kim Si-yeon.
I'm not depressed about it.
It's a feeling I've been used to since forever, so honestly, this is more comfortable for me.
A lone wolf? Hmm, that has a certain cool ring to it.
Absolutely, definitely not just pretending to be cool about it.
Yeah. For real.
Friends were something I needed specifically for dueling, anyway.
And these days, playing online games is way more fun.
Back in elementary school, carrying Duel King cards around was a common sight, but the moment I stepped into middle school, the trend had already died out.
I still hadn't let go of card collecting, but with no one around me doing it anymore, I'd lost the spark too.
So that's partly why my interest had swung hard toward gaming.
*Friends don't have to exist only offline!*
I'd always been more comfortable online anyway.
Sprinting home the second school ended and booting up the computer had become my daily routine.
I was, one could say, pouring my entire life into the FPS game Dead Zone.
*Today I'm definitely clearing that 20,000 grenade kills mission!*
A little TMI for you—
Dead Zone has a title system.
Fill a set number of kills with a sniper, rifle, melee weapon, and grenade respectively, and you earn a title for each one.
Clear all four, and you get the Weapon Master title.
Plenty of people couldn't care less about titles.
But me? I'm the type who gets completely hooked on the thrill of collecting.
They display right above your ID too, so they're great for showing off.
Ding-dong, ding-dong~!
The moment the bell rang, I packed up my things with uncanny speed and bolted out of school.
I got home to an empty house, poured myself a cool glass of barley tea, and settled in front of the computer.
