Time at the mansion continued to pass uneventfully after that.
Summer ended quietly, fall passed, and winter came. In that way, the year gradually changed.
I turned eighteen in his house. There was nothing particularly special about being a year older. Unless you reached adulthood, being eighteen or nineteen didn’t make much difference.
I realized that the significance of that one year could be special while eating rice cake soup on New Year’s Day. The normal and harmonious family conversations about having another bowl to gain a couple of years were something I had never dreamed to have in my life, yet this was the first time I ate rice cake soup on New Year’s Day. Eating that bowl of soup made me feel like I had truly aged a year in this world. The world, which had always been uncomfortable and unwelcome as if I were an uninvited guest, now felt like I had finally been given the permission to stay.
Such sentiments arose inside me from a mere standard bowl of rice cake soup.
Half a year passed like any other people, and it had been half a year since the two of us were left alone in the house.
So much had changed in that time, yet some things remained the same.
“Do you like the tutor?”
I turned my head away from focusing on completing a significant amount of homework under a thick blanket. Sitting across the table, he asked that question without taking his eyes off the documents, as if he hadn’t asked that.
One thing that changed was our distance. The gap between us, which used to be thirty steps, had closed to just three steps.
I used to always stay on the sofa while he spent most of his time in the inner part of the study. As the weather cooled, he began to spend more time at the table within my view, and eventually moved to the sofa opposite me, within my plain sight whenever I brought my head up. The distance between us in this space gradually narrowed. As our physical distance closed, conversations that used to happen only during meals started to occur more often in the study. It felt like the emotional distance between us was closing as well.
“He’s just okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Because I’m not the kind of student who easily understands explanations.”
I was still struggling because I wasn’t used to studying by understanding principles and systematically grasping connections. I had studied by memorizing textbooks in their entirety, so learning theories step by step and building the fundamentals took a lot of time. But that wasn’t the only issue.
“Will you be changing the tutor again?”
The biggest issue was that the tutors kept getting replaced. This was another change among many.
“As long as you focus on your studies, there won’t be a need to replace the tutor.”
Just as I got used to a tutor’s teaching style and we became comfortable with each other, the tutor would be replaced. I was on my fourth tutor within half a year of quitting school and starting private tutoring.
‘Take the Qualification Examination, I’ll bring in a tutor for you to build your basics and study, so take the college entrance exam. You won’t get good grades in that school. You said you wanted to go to university.’
He was the one who first suggested for me to quit school. I willingly accepted his proposal, which seemed to see right through me. His words were entirely reasonable and this was a smart approach. I had only been attending school regularly because I needed a high school diploma to go to university, but if there was another way, I wanted to quit immediately.
However, as time passed, I couldn’t understand why he so readily allowed me to quit school. I didn’t know if it was also common for others to have their private tutors changed so frequently. I had no one to ask. Things like this wouldn’t show up on the internet, and I couldn’t post a question anywhere. Given how demanding he was with the tutors coming to this house, wouldn’t it have been easier to let me attend school, going in and out on my own? With those thoughts, I spoke up to him, who blamed me for the frequent replacement of tutors.
“How can I get more focused than right now?”
His eyes, which had been fixed on the documents, turned to me as I glanced at the considerable amount of homework left on the table. Soon, I slightly lowered my gaze. His piercing and sharp eyes felt as if they could see right through me, making it hard to meet his gaze for long.
Another change was that I started to speak a bit more.
I was a person of even fewer words than him, enough to make him seem talkative. When I did open my mouth, I often ended conversations quickly or didn’t respond at all, leading to him complaining about having to repeat himself. However, once I realized I no longer needed to be so cautious, it was as if the tension of 17 years of restraint was released, and I started speaking without hesitation. Whenever I felt his gaze fixed on my face, I would finally realize my words had gone on too much, and I would close my mouth and look away. His moving lips came into my sharp focus as I averted my eyes slightly downward.
“If you don’t waste time having useless conversations with your tutors, you’ll be able to focus more.”
I was at a loss for words because I couldn’t understand what he meant. It was a strange thing to say. It seemed common for other kids to have casual, friendly exchanges with their tutors. But not only that I didn’t know how to make friends, I didn’t even know how to get close to people. I had no intention of changing my way of life now to be friendly with those around me. Did he think that tutors were an exception? Contrary to his assumption about typical kids, I had never wanted to get close or friendly with my tutors, nor had I ever thought about it. If there were someone I would become attached to, the most likely person wouldn’t be the tutor but…
“And, you.”
I was about to look away, thinking there was no point in arguing. But he continued, as if he wasn’t done yet.
“You should break that habit.”
I stared at his moving lips without looking away. I became more fixated on his lips because what he said was completely unexpected.
“I never intended to tell you what to do or not to do.”
That was true. He had found an alternative way for me to go to university instead of lecturing me about finishing high school. He didn’t scold me for talking back or for my lengthy words. He didn’t nag the slightest when I wasted time watching movies on TV, messing up my sleep schedule. But for the first time, he pointed out a habit of mine to correct, and it was just about something small.
“When we’re having a conversation, look at me in the eye.”
“…Pardon?”
I could only ask blankly. I always made sure to look at his face when we’d been in a conversation. Even now, I wasn’t doubting that I misheard him, and I was clearly seeing the way his lips move, so what was he talking about?
“My eyes.”
Unable to even blink my eyes, I tried to understand his words for a while. I flinched as if burned and looked up.
Oh. Oooh.
I finally understood. While I always kept my eyes on his face, I often looked down because I found it hard to maintain eye contact with his sharp, intense gaze. He stared coldly into my eyes as I finally met his gaze. It felt like his eyes were locking mine in place. His gaze was so persistent it almost felt like my corneas were heating up.
“And here I am trying not to look.”
A shiver ran down my spine. His eyes swept over my lips.
“It’s not fair if you keep staring.”
I never looked at his lips with a gaze like that.
I quickly averted from his gaze. I turned my head. Even though I buried my head in my workbook, I couldn’t focus on a single word. Thump, thump-. An indistinct sound pounded in my ears. Ignoring his persistent gaze on my face, I underlined a problem. Suddenly, this place felt uncomfortable. I couldn’t pinpoint why I felt this way, but the uneasy feeling wouldn’t go away.
Still, I didn’t want to leave the study.
That was one thing that hadn’t changed.
Even though I could now go wherever I wanted, I didn’t feel the need to go anywhere else. I found the most comfort in his study. This study was still the only place where I felt reassured that it was okay to stay.
No matter how uncomfortable I felt, I didn’t want to leave this place. That was the most decisive thing that hadn’t changed.
***
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