Chapter 67 : A New Home, A New Beginning, and an Unexpected Crisis

The two-week period that leisurely remained.

During that time, I started looking around here and there for a new place to live.

The perfect new home carefully chosen by considering location, environment, nearby transportation, and cost.

Once I found a place I liked, the rental contract proceeded smoothly and quickly with the help of my sister, Ji-eun.

“A new house!”

“It looks better than ours!”

The officetel was chosen for its many conveniences and nearby facilities, such as pharmacies, supermarkets, and convenience stores.

Once all the furniture from the previous apartment was moved in, it turned into quite a sight.

Siyeon excitedly explored the new house, and Ji-eun unnie walked around the rooms in admiration.

A lease deposit of 150 million won, with a monthly maintenance fee of 80,000 won.

It’s expensive for an officetel, but it has a loft — a romantic second-floor structure completely separate from the bunk bed.

“It even has a second floor!”

Siyeon, not needing to think about money, was busy exploring the house.

Though I wanted to move into another apartment after leaving one, the basic lease deposits in the area around the old house were already in the 300 to 400 million won range.

Unless I touched Siyeon’s savings or took out a loan, it was beyond what I could afford.

The new house was near Ji-eun’s house, close to school, and surrounded by conveniences like convenience stores, pharmacies, and supermarkets.

It wasn’t brand new, but it was well-maintained — our ideal new home.

Siyeon came rushing down from the second floor and grabbed my arm, dragging me upstairs.

“Look at this! The second floor!”

“You could sleep here.”

The second floor, where I was dragged to, had a safety railing and suitable space, along with built-in storage units along the wall.

Although I’d already seen it multiple times through photos and several visits, it was still exciting.

As a loft in an officetel, it wasn’t particularly wide or tall.

I could stand straight for now, but anyone around 160 cm tall would bump their head on the ceiling if they stood up fully.

Near the first-floor entrance, there was a front-loading washing machine installed below a two-burner induction cooktop.

The sink next to the induction cooktop was narrow, which could be considered a drawback, but how much cooking could two elementary school kids possibly do?

The old bunk bed was boldly discarded.
It was a hassle to clean the mattresses, and folding and unfolding them was tiresome. Instead, a simple mat and blankets that were easier to wash seemed more fitting for this place.

“We’re going to live here now.”

“Really!?”

“The new house is nice, right?”

“I love it!”

Siyeon’s reaction, full of excitement and happiness, filled me with pride.

At this point, I didn’t know.

I didn’t know that a time would come when I would have to actually say, “If there’s a problem, just go to the landlord and flip the situation.”

A line I had joked about would become reality.

“We’re heading out now.”

“We’re heading out!”

With a fresh start in the new house, Siyeon’s life as a 4th-grade elementary school student began.

The time right after winter vacation — January, colder than December, if anything, and far from warm.

Tucking her neck deep into the padded jacket to cover her mouth, she crossed her arms and slipped her hands inside the spacious cuffs of the padding.

It was almost like one of those exaggerated depictions of quirky Chinese characters you often see in various media.

Still, it was warmer this way than putting her hands in cold pockets.

“I hope I’m in the same class as Mari!”

“Yeah, it’d be great if I could be in the same class as Siyeon.”

Siyeon, swinging her arms enthusiastically while masked, spoke aloud her hopeful wish.

Siyeon and I had never been in the same class for first, second, or third grade.

The closest we’d ever gotten was in third grade, when I was in Class 3, and she was in Class 4—our classrooms were at least nearby.

As I gave her a casual reply to match her hopeful tone, we began heading to the building for fourth-grade classrooms starting today.

But then, Siyeon naturally started down the hill, heading toward the building we’d used through third grade.

It was so natural that I hesitated a bit before saying anything, making me a little late to speak up.

“Starting fourth grade, it’s this way!”

“Oh, right!”

Siyeon, who had already taken three steps down the hill, jumped in surprise at my shout and quickly turned back.

The hallway of the new building was lined with stacks of textbooks for the new grade, their strings already loosened and scattered.

The pressing matter was the class assignments.

Immediately upon entering the building, we spotted the bulletin board with sheets of paper pinned to it.

The names of students and their assigned classes were listed there in long rows.

I scanned quickly with my trained speed-reading skills, looking for Siyeon’s and my names.

My name, Kim Mari, appeared first—it was Class 1, following alphabetical order.

Siyeon’s name, Lee Siyeon, came up in the middle—it was Class 3.

Once again, we weren’t in the same class.

“Siyeon, you’re in Class 3, and I’m in Class 1.”

“Again, different classes….”

“Make sure you grab one textbook and check the seating chart to find your spot.”
“Yeah….”

After exchanging the usual yearly advice, we parted ways.

Siyeon looked glum, disappointed that we weren’t in the same class again.

But I knew her well enough—treat her to some good food at home, and her mood would lighten up.

Class 1 was near the side door of the building, right by the school entrance.

Since fourth grade meant using this new building, I no longer had to climb to the third floor like in third grade.

Now, I was back on the first floor.

Not having to climb stairs—how nice is that?

That aside, the six-period schedule now was complete garbage.

Having to stay in the same classroom with noisy loudspeakers who didn’t match my mental maturity until 2:30 p.m.?

This must be what hell on earth feels like.

“Hey! How far did you get with the boss?”

“Level 5. What about you?”

“I got to Level 7!”

At least most kids had grown out of the mindless teasing where they’d make fun of someone’s name, like in the lower grades.

By this age, boys and girls started to naturally drift apart, like oil and water, becoming entirely separate entities.

The girls leaned toward old-school games passed down from previous generations, like elastic jump ropes, string games, or clapping games.

The boys, on the other hand, huddled together during phone time, talking about smartphone games.

When their phones were confiscated, they scribbled in notebooks to make their own games, drew crude comics, or played with paper cards.

In lower grades, smartphones weren’t collected, but as students got older, they were required to submit them during homeroom.

Apparently, some parents were complaining a lot…

There are parents like that, you know, the ones who think taking away computers and smartphones will magically improve grades.

Taking away a smartphone doesn’t mean kids are going to study. It’s such a foolish notion.

“Haa…”

I propped my chin on the desk, staring out the window during the third period.

Unfortunately, my seat ended up being the first one right by the window, so my desk was shoved into the corner, making it annoyingly cramped.

“Try coming over here! Everything’s mine!”

To make matters worse, adding insult to injury, my deskmate, a boy, seemed to have some issue with girls for some reason.

My image at school, built up over the years, was that of a tough girl with a sharp tongue and strength to match.

“Why don’t you try taking it? And stop clinging, move your stuff, you little punk.”

The desks were already uncomfortably close together, basically glued.

I casually nudged his chair away with my foot, creating a bit more space for myself.

“Ughhhh!”

Clearly frustrated, the boy let out a bizarre sound of rage.

The years of physical training were starting to show, even in the small frame of a young girl.

At the very least, I was strong enough to handle boys my age.

Elementary school kids were still too young for proper group fights.

As long as it wasn’t one versus many, I could hold my own. I was practically the strongest in my grade.

That one time a kid bragged about his older brother being a sixth-grader with a black belt in

Taekwondo…

What a joke.

There was even a time when someone actually brought their older brother to “teach me a lesson.”

But I just knee-kicked him in the most vulnerable spot at the perfect height, making it clear there was no chance.

Was it after that incident that the boys started keeping their distance from me?

I mean, I’m a pacifist by nature. I just don’t ignore fights that come my way.

The first day of the semester, of course, there were no proper lessons.

So we got our phones back early and headed home in a good mood.

“Did you meet any friends?”

“Yeah! Hayeon!”

“That’s great.”

With my cursed name and reputation, I didn’t really have any close friends, but it didn’t bother me.

I was genuinely happy to hear that Siyeon already knew someone in her class.

If she had at least one familiar face, she’d get along just fine.

‘Huh?’

Relaxing as I walked, my smartphone lit up.

Three missed calls. I stared at the screen in confusion.

The caller was none other than Jieun, my older sister.

She knew I was at school, so why would she call?

As soon as that thought crossed my mind, an ominous feeling crept in.

Without even waiting for the phone to fully load, I immediately called her back.

The ringtone barely started before the call was picked up, almost at the speed of light.

I quickly blurted out the usual greeting.

“Hello?”

“Marie, what do we do… This is bad. Really bad!”