Chapter Text
During Sayeon's journey to and through law school, she learned a great deal of things about herself.
Most of them are rather benign. She can hold her liquor quite well naturally, for instance, despite the flush her face takes on almost immediately. She's also learned that she prefers pencil skirts to pantsuits, but that's just personal preference.
She's also learned that she's willing to stoop much lower for the sake of the greater good than she'd like to admit out loud.
This final point was not learned in a school book. It was not learned in the halls of any university, undergraduate or beyond. It was learned in the humble halls of her high school, walking to the aberrance testing office- a repurposed classroom, converted only occasionally for this annual purpose- with a fistful of cash hidden up her sleeve.
Aberrance testing is overseen by the aberrant corps, which pays their officers a pittance and their contractors even less. Those who usually do aberrance testing aren't even qualified enough for the uniform, and have normal blue peace cards, aside from a small red dot in the corner. That dot signifies that they're aberrants only by technicality- there's some sympathy to be had for them, surely, because they have all the misfortune of aberration but none of the power to back it up- but Sayeon is mostly happy that their bloodlines are diluted enough that their aberrances won't survive to the next generation, if they even reproduce at all.
All of these separate circumstances- the public wariness of aberrants, even on a technicality, mixed with the contractor's poor pay, mixed with the general lack of oversight afforded to all contractors of all kinds, federal or not- had created an opportunity for Sayeon to continue flying under the radar, and hopefully (at that point) manage to skate her way past detection into college, where she would then be able to justify her poor conduct with the good work that she will do with the rest of her life. Samin always says that the ends justify the means, after all, and if that meant blowing a few won every year to keep her peace card, then she would do it without complaint.
And she did- from the moment that she learned of her aberrancy, an incident that she would prefer not to get into, even in the privacy of her own mind- for three years, there was a small wad of cash shoved into her unseasonably long sleeves, sitting comfortably next to her wrist. When she would shake the tester's hand, the money slid easily out of hers and into his, and she would be dismissed as a pureblooded human like everybody else.
There was a snag only in her final year, just before graduation; she had been warned the year prior that testers for eighteen-year-olds were different from the usual contractors, warned in a subtle means of double-speak in the form of casual conversation from the usual man. She took the warning seriously; assuming the worst is usually the best policy, and though she still doesn't know if her thought process was correct or not, she decided that the aberrant corps would not want anybody to slip through the cracks.
Any tester for this final year would be extra strict, then; most likely, an actual officer, in the actual uniform. Someone that would not be convinced simply by a papery shorthand, or else any argument that Sayeon could make to insist that she would be far better off serving the public from a prosecutor's bench.
Furthermore, any real officer would only come once- they have a lot to do, after all, since aberrants generally enforce against themselves. The corps are therefore very busy, and cannot spare officers for the single day of makeup testing that is done at the end of the summer semester each year for students of all grades who missed their true testing dates, in addition to the students taking makeup classes who are already there (may as well test them again if they're already right here seems to be the government's logic on that little requirement).
Thus, at the tail end of Sayeon's final year of high school, she committed an act of social suicide- not that she had much in the way of a sterling reputation anyway, given the way that most people aside from Jae-il spoke about her behind her back- and puked in the middle of class.
This neatly excused her from the aberrancy testing the next day- she had never missed a day of high school prior to that, and though her reputation as a diligent student likely would have carried her through that absence without questions anyway, she would much rather be safe than sorry- and slotted her into the makeup testing due at the end of the summer, since there were no other testing days after those who were about to graduate.
The mechanics of it were easy enough- drug her own soup at lunch, sip just enough before the bell for class, and wait for the drug to take its course- and she wasn't so disgusting as to vomit down her own front. She had instead run dramatically out of class and used a conveniently nearby trash can, hoping that she was audible through the door that she had conveniently left open.
She was, at least, audible enough for Jae-il to come running out of the classroom with tissues in hand, though he didn't help her wipe her face- she insisted on doing that part herself. She put herself in that situation, after all, it was only right that she handle all the disgusting parts of it.
A few minutes later, she tried to sneak back into the classroom- best to keep up appearances, after all, and if this were legitimate she really would try and sneak back in- and the teacher sent her out with a wave of his hand. She sat in the hallway next to the classroom, Jae-il sat next to her, and she waited for him to come out and say something.
Come out he did, presumably after setting the assignment, and he only told her to go home.
"Tomorrow- " She started, but he held up a hand to silently tell her to stop.
"You didn't sign up for the graduation ceremony," He said, instead of anything that made sense. "If you're desperate to get your diploma tomorrow afternoon specifically, after dragging yourself here with a stomach bug, that's fine. If you'd rather not, your diploma will be waiting here when you finish your aberrancy testing on the makeup date at the end of the summer. You're excused for tomorrow, at any rate."
She sighed, pretended to think about it, and glanced over at Jae-il for good measure. Instead of letting her speak, however, he said something on his own behalf.
"Hey teach," He asked, "can I skip tomorrow, too? Sayeon will make sure I come in for the makeup test, I promise." He showed that crooked grin at the teacher, who'd scoffed, rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms.
"If that means you've got even a slightly higher chance of showing up for remedial classes over the summer semester, I'll take it. Go home, both of you." He said, instead of a denial, which was... mildly surprising. Not too surprising, after thinking about it for a moment- Jae-il knew he was slated for remedial classes over the summer for his diploma, since exam results came back the week prior, and he was already planning on skipping most if not all of it- so having Sayeon at least guaranteed to be staying in the city until the end of classes for her makeup testing date would improve the chances of him at least showing up every so often.
So Sayeon had gone home, skipped testing with the corps officer, and proceeded to bully Jae-il into at least showing up for remedial classes twice a week. She helped him with his homework and study for tests, which was a fair enough trade for both of them.
On the date and time she had been sent by the school, she showed up in the sticky heat of late summer, her usual unseasonably long sleeves over her knuckles and cash- more than usual, out of gratitude for the tip about the danger of her original testing date and acknowledgement that this was to be her last test, and his last bonus from her- stuck to the inside of her wrist by the sheen of sweat that covered her whole body. At home, her bags were already packed for the dormitory she was to move into later that same afternoon, for the university she was meant to be starting classes at two weeks later.
She was staying in the same city, of course- she wanted to escape Samin, but not Jae-il- but it was far enough away that moving into a dormitory would be more optimal for punctuality. The morning commuter rush is no joke.
When she and Jae-il wandered into the school building with every other student taking makeup and summer classes- with the occasional student here or there who was solely there for aberrance testing, like herself- they hovered near each other, in the holding area with loosely organized groups of people. Sayeon noted, with some embarrassment, that she and Jae-il were the only seniors that she could recognize. Theirs were the only diplomas being held in the office, to be given out after testing.
They called students' names, one by one, into the same repurposed classroom they used during the school year. After they were done, every student came back through the holding area with fists raised or smiles on their faces as they pushed through the tepid pool of their peers out through the front doors, to a short break before coming right back to school.
Like she already stated, she and Jae-il were the only seniors present, so they were the only ones meant to leave and never return after the testing day. It was bittersweet, when Sayeon let herself ruminate on it instead of dwelling on the constantly churning anxiety in her chest. There was some part of her that already felt halfway locked out, like everyone inside had already moved on without her. At the same time, it felt somewhat fitting that her last look at this school would be nearly alone, with only Jae-il and a bunch of students she doesn't recognize to accompany her.
Given that most of her time at that school was spent under similar circumstances- accompanied by Jae-il and surrounded by a bunch of unknown, unimportant peers- it was a fitting end.
Jae-il went before her, as he did every year. He gave her a high-five as he departed for the classroom, and another as he passed her on his way out, cleared entirely of all suspicion of aberrancy. Lucky him.
He didn't wait with her in the slowly-emptying holding area, which she supposed was about what she should have expected- he probably didn't want to be in here any longer than he had to be. With any luck, she'd find him in one of his usual haunts before the day was done- that is, if her usual method of convincing the tester of her lack of aberrancy worked the same as it always had.
Soon enough, her name was called, and she walked down the familiar path towards that same repurposed classroom. The door looked nearly identical to any other down this hall, aside from the small copy-paper sign indicating that this was the correct room for aberrancy testing.
Sayeon wiped her hands on her skirt- long sleeves were a necessity, not a choice, and they were hot enough even with loose clothes otherwise- and opened the door with a shaking hand.
She and the contractor- a balding man just this side of overweight, with shrewd eyes and a stained wifebeater shirt- stared at each other, each recognizing the other. Both did each other favors, and had been consistent in keeping their mouths shut over the past few years. Both had proven they could be trusted. Sayeon breathed a silent sigh of relief.
There was no other contractor in the room, no other aberrant even in the building if the other students' reactions had been truthful- although, there was never any guarantee that Sayeon was the only person to employ her method of debate, when it came to convincing this man of her humanity, and in fact there may be more of them out there than she'd quite like to know- and the only person who would reasonably be able to catch them at their mutual deception was the underpaid tennis coach, halfway to snoring on the chair in the corner.
So, for the sake of the tennis coach and him alone, she and the contractor shook hands. Sayeon, well practiced in the art of subtly greasing his palm, slid the cash invisibly from her sleeve and into his hand. The contractor nodded, Sayeon pulled away, and the tennis coach failed to even twitch. She opened the door again, walked out into the hallway, and that had simply been that.
As the tension bled from her shoulders and pulled itself off of her chest, she picked up her diploma from the office on her way out of the front door. She kept herself appearing like the picture of calm and collectedness, when really, she had just passed the riskiest exam she had ever, or would ever take.
She saw Jae-il smoking just off school property, marveling down at his own diploma, and he brought his head up just long enough to notice her and beckon her over.
In response, she pulled her jacket off and tied it around her waist by its sleeves, before rushing to join Jae-il for a few hours of freedom before boarding the train with her suitcase in hand.
