District 9 | SKZ [ Book 1 ]

D3

Minho had never really thought about going against the system. What was the point? He knew that if they rebelled they would get severely punished, and he didn't quite like the idea. He told himself that he'd rather live a life controlled by others than being severely punished and sent to rot God knows where, but he changed his mind.

Being born left-handed, when the system found out, they made him use his right hand so it could be the same as everyone else. That's what they always did. So Minho did. He learned how to use it, built strength on his right hand, and was now what the outside world would call "ambidextrous", but the system didn't know that.

Being naturally left-handed, reaching for things, or just doing things in general came as a natural reflex, so sometimes unconsciously he would write down notes or do work using his left-hand. He hadn't even realised he was doing it until one day in middle school, his teacher called him out about it and forced him to write with his right hand. He thought nothing of it at the time, casually switching his pencil to his right hand and continuing his notes like nothing had happened, but it happened again. He set down his pencil to stretch and accidentally picked it up again with his left hand. He hadn't noticed until he looked up at the board and saw his teacher glaring at him. He was confused, but then he looked down and saw his hand. He immediately switched it to the right, but it was too late. His teacher made a tsk sound and tapped her pen twice on the podium. Minho knew what that meant.

He was screwed.

After class ended he stayed back and waited nervously for the teacher, going back and forth between the balls of his feet. When she turned around, the poor young boy gulped.

"Lee Minho." She poke coldly. Minho just nodded in return, looking her in the eye. "With which hand are we supposed to write?" She asked, glaring at him. "Th-the right ma'am." He said, cursing himself mentally for stuttering.

"What was that?" She raised her voice, making the young boy more scared and nervous than before. He just wanted this whole ordeal to be over with.

"The right, ma'am." He said again, more clearly and without stuttering.

The lady nodded and proceeded her questioning. "Now Minho, what were you doing using your left hand, not once, but twice?" She said deepening her piercing glare and accentuating twice.

"It comes as a reflex, ma'am." He replied, trying his best to not break eye contact.

"But if you had been using your right hand for everything all this time, you wouldn't have that reflex, now would you?" She asked, and Minho couldn't help it but to nod. At home his mother never forced him to write with his right hand, so he noticed that all this time he had unconsciously been doing his homework and everything with his left hand. He scolded himself mentally for not noticing sooner and fixing his habit. "Don't worry though sweetie," she said with a fake coo. "We'll fix this habit for you." She finished, fake smiling, before pulling Minho by left hand harshly as they exited the classroom.