Got Dropped into a Ghost Story, Still Gotta Work

The warm sunlight streamed into the Fox Counseling Office.

Standing outside the window was another version of me.

He was gripping my arm and stirring through the tattoo.

……

Huh?

That’s someone else, isn’t it?

Then I must reject this. Did I break the rules? No. Exactly, this situation isn’t right! It isn’t right! It isn’t right! It isn’t right! I must follow the rules because I’m a new teacher who adheres to them.

“All done, Sir.”

The hand that had been stirring inside my tattoo withdrew.

Thud.

An object emerged along with the hand that had come out of what should have been an empty tattoo.

“This was inside.”

Under the garden’s lights, the bold red title came into clear view.

A brown file folder.

<■■ Kindergarten Handbook>

“It looks familiar. How do you remember it?”

Good god.

It felt like cold water had been dumped on me, and my mind instantly cleared.

‘That…!!’

And like a dam breaking, fragments of blurred memories from the past few weeks came flooding back vividly.

When I had sealed the contaminated Supervisor Park Minseong from the kindergarten into my wrist!

The tattoo’s space had consumed him effortlessly… Ah, the handbook must have touched me! I meant to handle it separately and would never have done that intentionally.

The handbook Park Minseong had been holding was absorbed into my tattoo along with him in one go!

I must’ve suppressed the urge to handle it separately, even though I fully intended to report everything to the Security Team after the rescue.

But…

– If you’ve taken any items or supplies from the “Hungry Hangman” Darkness, please return them.

– Oh, I don’t have any.

I hadn’t returned the handbook.

More accurately, whenever I tried to recall if there was anything else in the tattoo, an unconscious sense of rejection stopped me.

Doubting the rules is against the rules!

And even the fact that I felt rejection was gradually buried, as if I wasn’t allowed to acknowledge it.

Because teachers mustn’t feel resistance to the rules…

No, I shouldn’t overthink this!

What’s clear is that I did make repeated attempts.

Attempts to let others know that something was wrong with me.

– …Squad Leader.

– Yes.

– If it seems like I have a strange obsession with the rules, please look into it…

– Yes.

– ……Ah. I’ve just been overly focused on work lately, so I thought I’d mention it.

– I see.

I had even brought it up to Section Chief Lee Jaheon several times, though each conversation ended with vague self-doubt and trailed off.

‘I almost made a serious mistake.’

The handbook within the tattoo had begun to erode my subconscious, and eventually, it all seemed natural to me so I could no longer recognize any of the bizarre signs… ŕ

‘…At least I regained my senses at Sekwang Technical High School!’

Thanks to taking the Nostalgia Candy.

But the moment I woke from that dream, even that reprieve ended.

And yesterday, the ‘last topic’ I had with Section Chief Lee Jaheon in that conversation culminated everything.

– Kim Soleum-ssi.

– Yes?

– Have you recently felt an unusual compulsion or pressure to follow the rules?

– Following the rules is only natural for a member of the workplace, Squad Leader!

– I see.

Wow. Oh my god.

‘I feel like throwing up.’

Was that really me??

I staggered and leaned against the window.

‘So that’s why Section Chief Lee Jaheon…’

He’d been so insistent on sending me straight to the counseling office.

Everything was becoming clear now.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

It felt as if I’d taken off a too-tight turtleneck or wiped clean a pair of smudged glasses.

A refreshing sense of liberation and exhaustion wrapped around my entire body.

And… unease, too.

“What are you thinking right now?”

“…I feel both tired and relieved.”

“Does it feel like you’ve escaped from some uncomfortable compulsion?”

“…Yes.”

The ‘counselor’, who looked like me and stood outside the window, gazed at me with a comforting expression.

“You’ve done very well. Staying here and following through with counseling is a testament to your strong will.”

Then, he quietly set the handbook down on the garden floor, retrieved a shovel from somewhere, and lightly dug into the ground.

“When you’re caught in powerful compulsions or ideas against your will, it’s truly distressing, isn’t it?”

Rustle, rustle.

The ‘Kim Soleum’ outside the window created a small dirt hole in the corner of the outdoor garden.

Thuk.

The handbook was tossed into the hole.

“While change isn’t always bad, it’s only right to resist when your body and mind are being strained.”

The me outside the window neatly covered the hole with soil, then dusted off his hands with satisfaction.

“Sir Soleum, do you see the small plant in that pot?”

A pot?

When I turned my head, there was indeed a small pot on the table near the sofa.

It was a sprig with tiny, under-ripe fruits the size of beans.

“Could you pick one of the fruits you like and bring it to me?”

I carefully plucked a fruit that seemed the ripest and handed it over to the ‘me’ beyond the window.

“You did very well.”

The counselor outside the window held both the fruit and my hand.

Then—

The fruit in my hand ripened to a vivid red.

It swelled, looking plump and appetizing, as if it had absorbed plenty of nutrients.

“Chew it thoroughly before you swallow.”

I placed the fruit in my mouth.

A torrent of intense anxiety, frustration, thoughts, and irrational sorrow and pain slowly melted away along with the fruit…

When a client with severe mental contamination visits, red fruits (suspected to be from the Fox’s Pouch family or Fox Beads) are offered as medication.

The fruit has been shown to have excellent effects on mental stabilization.

Any attempts to take the fruit outside result in its disappearance the moment it crosses the doorway.

Huu.

With a deep breath, all the emotional residue scattered like grains of sand.

I felt at peace.

Just an ordinary, weary office worker once more.

Back to being my usual self.

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