That day, it goes without saying, the school was turned upside down.
It was problematic enough that a troublesome parent came to the school, but if the superintendent singled out a particular teacher to point out issues, the situation was worse than dealing with a troublesome parent.
It was already third period math class, and seeing that our homeroom teacher still hadn’t arrived…
‘They must be getting an earful.’
It seemed they were being grilled so thoroughly that three hours wasn’t enough.
Eventually, the gym teacher came to our class and announced that math class would be self-study, giving us a whole hour to use as we wished.
Even if it was called self-study, what elementary school student sits quietly studying on their own?
Naturally, friends gathered to chat, repeating the cycle of talking and playing just like during recess.
Some even brought over the board games that were sitting in the back of the classroom and gathered the desks to set up the game board.
Whenever the noise got too loud, the teacher from the neighboring class would come over and warn us to be quiet.
In the end, our homeroom teacher didn’t return until after sixth period, and we could only await the end of school.
Cause and effect, what goes around comes around.
Bullying the weak with a nasty heart, and it came back to haunt them.
“The cleaning duty students, do your cleaning and come to the staff room for inspection.”
Just like the gym teacher who had come during math class to announce self-study, the gym teacher was also replacing our homeroom teacher for the closing ceremony.
Since I was on cleaning duty yesterday, it wasn’t my turn today, so I packed my bag hanging by my desk.
As February was slipping away and March was beginning, people started lightening their clothing.
Returning home after exercising, I noticed the greenery of the flowerbeds nearby that I hadn’t paid attention to before.
It was only when those greens started peeking out that I realized the weather had warmed up.
As I headed home with Shiyeon, I felt a buzz from my smartphone.
[Looks like I won’t be able to make it today, sorry.]
A message from Senior Jiun arrived via messenger app.
Since our trip to the United States, Senior Jiun had been quite busy.
It must have something to do with the wedding preparations, but it seemed like that department got busy because of the monster that showed up during the last festival.
They claim it’s due to “the disobedience of some monsters outside the regulations,” but it seems a few citizens have been raising petitions, citing “safety” and such.
‘Safety my foot, it’s probably about property prices.’
Muttering to myself about the obvious intentions, I stepped into the house.
Tossing the plush toy that I had kept in my pocket into the room, the Gomtaengi flew over to its cushion.
I hadn’t carried that mascot around much since the truce, but between the festival and everything, Shiyeon and I had it on us until recently.
Of course, if the kids in our class knew that I carried around a plush toy of that size, they would definitely tease me, so I didn’t take it out in public.
“What should I cook….”
With Senior Jiun absent, it was a situation where we had to figure out dinner on our own after quite a while.
Opening the refrigerator to see what we had, I muttered to myself, breaking my speech like I was adding interjections to an old song.
Then suddenly, some refrigerated items became noticeable in the fridge.
‘Huh?’
Unopened cheese tteokbokki rice cakes, Busan fish cakes, and a pack of Vienna sausages.
With only gochujang and gochugaru, those were enough ingredients to make tteokbokki.
As expected from the housemaster Jiun, the gochugaru was in the far corner of the freezer.
Other sauce kinds were already in the refrigerator, so it seemed quite feasible.
“Shiyeon, should we make tteokbokki?”
Getting out the wide pot, which felt a little heavy, I placed it on the induction stove along with the prepared ingredients.
My heart was already leaning towards tteokbokki, but I decided to ask for a reaction just in case.
“Tteokbokki?!”
The reaction didn’t seem to require a separate answer.
I quickly turned up the heat, adding gochujang to a wide ladle before sprinkling in half a spoon of thick gochugaru before the water even boiled.
Next came a ladle filled tight with corn syrup into the red broth, continuously stirring in a clockwise direction to keep it from clumping.
“Tteokbokki~”
“Could you open those packs for me?”
“Okay!”
Perhaps because we were making food Shiyeon liked, she seemed excited and was cooperatively helping out.
Receiving the opened pack, I first added the cheese tteokbokki rice cakes, which looked like mini hot dogs.
Carefully checking inside the bag to ensure the preservatives didn’t get into the broth, I grabbed the thin preservatives and tossed them into the trash before pouring in the rice cakes all at once.
The neatly rectangular fish cakes were piled up regardless of getting grease on my hands, and I snipped them with scissors cutting diagonally before tossing them into the red broth and stirring it around casually.
Finally, I dropped in the Vienna sausages I had removed from their preservative pack.
Even just like that, it would be a decent tteokbokki, but the viscosity of the broth was lacking compared to the ones sold outside.
‘Starch, starch….’
At moments like this, any kind of starch was essential.
I took a small bowl and poured some cold water, adding about a spoonful of starch and mixing it well until it became cloudy.
Then, I added one-third of it evenly throughout the pot.
Every time the starch settled at the bottom of the bowl, I gently mixed it again and kept adding it to the tteokbokki pot, continuously cooking it.
I really didn’t know why this costs 20,000 or 30,000 won outside.
It didn’t even take 30 minutes to finish a sticky tteokbokki filled with rice cakes, sausages, and fish cakes, and it didn’t even add up to 20,000 won.
‘How much do they throw away normally.’
With complaints formed from the consumer’s point of view, I transferred the tteokbokki into a suitably wide bowl.
How much exactly was wasted, only the small business owners would know, but I begrudgingly brought the three bowls to the table, feeling a bit resentful towards the tteokbokki shops that upscale the street food.
The two bowls filled generously were for Shiyeon and me, and the remaining one was a sample bowl exclusively for the mascots.
I placed the bowls on the table in order and called out to the cushions.
“Come eat, you feathered beasts.”
“Yay!”
“Did we have a share too?”
“Things like this are only a hassle if you make too little.”
After a long time since the festival and trip, having a meal with the mascots.
As soon as I called them, they gathered near the low table.
It was understandable for Shiyeon’s mascot, which resembled a sea snake with no hands, to eat directly from the bowl, but Gomtaengi didn’t use the fork that I handed over.
“It’s not that spicy, is it?”
Gomtaengi’s food review followed.
The food bought outside is often spicy, but our home food is mild.
“Outside food is just too spicy.”
I grumbled about the Korean eating habits obsessed with spiciness in response to that review.
More than half my experiences of trying to eat somewhat red food involved struggles with its spiciness.
There are kids who can eat spicy food, but I wish they’d consider those who can’t.
More than that, lately, the low table has started to feel cramped as the bowls have increased in size.
That table, which could comfortably hold rice bowls back in first grade, now felt cramped just with two wide bowls for tteokbokki.
‘Maybe I should just get rid of this and buy a new one.’
With such housewife-like thoughts, dinner ended up being filled with just tteokbokki and sausages, without a single grain of rice.
Since the rice cakes were ultimately made from kneaded rice, wasn’t that a healthy meal including rice?
The next day, the remaining tteokbokki, which was just enough for two to eat or leave, was perfectly turned into two meals by adding water to make ramen.
Thanks to the considerably warmed-up weather, I wore a thin jacket for school instead of the padded jacket that used to be stuffed with air.
For students who had no worries beyond school and academy, it felt like another day as always…
But the atmosphere among the teachers, viewed from an adult’s perspective, had changed quite a bit.
Especially the attitude of a few teachers towards me.
“Hey, hello Mary! Is there anyone bothering you?”
“What? Yes….”
While I could let go of the absence of our homeroom teacher, several teachers I passed in the corridor remembered my name and casually threw me questions.
They especially seemed concerned, asking if I was uncomfortable or if there were any friends bothering me.
It felt a bit like the attention given to a soldier acting as an escort, something I had seen somewhere many times before.
As I pondered why even teachers who wouldn’t usually talk to me were doing so, I realized….
‘Oh, no way.’
Thoughts concluded, arriving at the recent events.
I had refrained from asking about anything while I was at school without my smartphone, but as soon as school ended and I got my smartphone back, I made a call.
When I asked if he had said anything to the school, the uncle responded proudly.
“Ah, I mentioned to my junior that you and Shiyeon are in that school, so take care of them, okay? Why?”
‘Ah, that explains it.’
“Uh, um, no… just thank you.”
It was already a done deal.
I couldn’t tell the uncle who seemed serious that it was burdensome.
“Ah, got it! If there’s anything else you need, feel free to ask!”
Tripping over my words, I just said thanks.
Apparently, it seemed like the news had already spread among the teachers, and asking to be treated casually now would change nothing.
I guess I should think of it as having a good backing during elementary school.
At the very least, my worries about receiving unfair treatment were gone, right?
