The darkness came first.
Then—
"Mom…!"
Jiwon's voice cracked through the silence.
"Please… no…"
A figure stood ahead of her.
Blurry.
Fading.
Walking away.
Not turning back.
"Not this time…" her voice trembled. "I don't want to be alone again…"
The figure didn't stop.
"Mom!"
She screamed.
But the distance only grew.
The space between them stretched—
Endlessly.
Cold.
Empty.
And then—
—
Jiwon's eyes snapped open.
Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps.
As if she had been running.
For hours.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the air barely reaching her lungs.
Sweat clung to her skin.
Her hair stuck lightly to her forehead.
The room was silent.
Too silent.
She sat up slowly.
Her fingers moved to her face—
And paused.
Wet.
She looked at them.
For a moment… she didn't understand.
Then she did.
Tears.
Her expression didn't change.
She stared at the moisture on her fingertips like it didn't belong to her.
Like it was something insignificant.
Something to be brushed away.
"…Ridiculous."
Her voice was quiet.
Flat.
She wiped her face once.
Got out of bed.
And didn't look back.
—
Morning arrived like nothing had happened.
Uniform neat.
Expression calm.
Eyes unreadable.
Jiwon walked through the school gates as if the night had never existed.
No hesitation.
No trace.
Just control.
—
The hallway buzzed with noise.
Students talking.
Laughing.
Whispering.
Everything normal.
Everything fake.
"Jiwon!"
A familiar voice called out.
Yerim approached her quickly, a bright smile on her face.
"You did so well yesterday," she said, slightly breathless. "I heard everything. The way you handled the game… it was insane."
Jiwon looked at her.
And for a brief moment—
She smiled.
Not calculated.
Not controlled.
Just… genuine.
"Thanks."
Yerim blinked.
Surprised.
Then narrowed her eyes slightly, studying her.
"…That's new."
Jiwon tilted her head. "What is?"
"You're smiling."
Silence lingered for a second.
Soft.
Unusual.
Jiwon didn't answer immediately.
Because even she hadn't noticed.
Footsteps approached.
Jinwoo.
Yerim noticed him immediately.
Her eyes flickered between the two—
And then her expression lit up.
"Oh—right!" she said suddenly, a little too loudly. "I just remembered something!"
Before either of them could react, she stepped back.
"I'll see you guys later!"
And just like that—
She left.
Far too quickly.
Jiwon blinked once, watching her disappear down the hallway.
"…What happened to her?"
Jinwoo let out a quiet chuckle.
He had seen that coming.
"Don't mind her," he said lightly. "She's just weird sometimes."
Jiwon gave a small nod.
"…Yeah."
A brief silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
But not easy either.
Jinwoo studied her face.
Carefully.
"You slept well?" he asked.
The question was casual.
But his eyes weren't.
Jiwon didn't hesitate.
"Yeah."
Then, almost immediately—
"Why wouldn't I?"
Jinwoo nodded slowly.
"Right."
A pause.
Then—
"Are you sad?"
Jiwon frowned slightly.
"Huh?"
Then she let out a soft scoff.
"No."
Her tone was light.
Too light.
"Why would I be sad?"
Jinwoo held her gaze for a second longer than usual.
"Really?"
Another pause.
"If you say so…"
He didn't push further.
But he didn't look convinced either.
—
They walked into the classroom together.
The usual noise filled the space.
Chairs scraping.
Voices overlapping.
Everything normal.
They took their seats.
Not as distant as before.
But not close enough to feel the same.
From behind—
Yerim leaned forward suddenly and nudged Jinwoo's arm with her elbow.
Hard.
He glanced back, slightly annoyed.
"What?"
She lowered her voice immediately.
"Did you tell her?"
Jinwoo shook his head.
"No."
Yerim exhaled dramatically, dropping her head into her hand.
"Why?"
Jinwoo looked ahead.
At Jiwon.
Her posture.
Her silence.
"She doesn't look happy today."
Yerim blinked.
"But she smiled."
Jinwoo's expression didn't change.
"I don't think she is."
His voice was quiet.
Certain.
Yerim studied him for a second.
Then sighed again.
"So you're just… going to waste time?"
Jinwoo shook his head slightly.
"No."
A small pause.
"It's not that simple."
Before Yerim could argue again—
The classroom door opened.
The teacher walked in.
And just like that—
The conversation ended.
But the question didn't.
Classes passed.
One after another.
Words spoken.
Notes written.
Time moving—
But not really felt.
—
By the time lunch break arrived, the classroom buzzed with noise again.
Chairs shifted.
Students stood.
Conversations filled the air.
Jiwon remained seated for a moment longer than usual.
Then—
She stood.
And walked out.
—
The hallway was crowded.
Voices overlapping.
Footsteps echoing.
And then—
A sharp impact against her shoulder.
Jiwon stopped.
Harin.
"Move," Harin said casually, brushing past her slightly.
Jiwon didn't move this time.
"…Not today."
Harin turned, eyebrows raising in amusement.
"Why not?"
A slow smile spread across her lips.
"You love it, don't you?"
Jiwon clicked her tongue softly.
"Tch."
And walked past her.
Ignoring her completely.
Harin blinked.
"…Ignore me?"
Her tone sharpened.
From a distance—
Yerim watched everything.
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
"She's really different today…" she muttered under her breath.
"…Is she actually sad?"
Before Harin could react again—
Yerim stepped in.
"Harin."
Her voice was light.
But firm.
"We have work to do."
She grabbed Jiwon's wrist gently.
"We're not free like you."
Harin frowned, clearly irritated—
But Yerim didn't wait.
She pulled Jiwon away.
—
They didn't stop until they reached the garden.
It was quieter there.
Less noise.
More space.
The air felt lighter.
Yerim finally let go of her wrist and turned to face her.
"What happened?"
Jiwon looked at her.
Expression calm.
"What?"
A small pause.
"Me? Nothing."
Yerim didn't react.
Didn't smile.
Didn't accept it.
"You're hiding something."
Jiwon shook her head slightly.
"I'm not hiding anything."
Yerim crossed her arms.
"You really lie without hesitation."
Jiwon's gaze didn't waver.
"I'm not lying."
Silence stretched between them.
Then—
Yerim stepped closer.
"Then tell me what's wrong."
Jiwon looked away for a second.
"Nothing."
Yerim exhaled softly.
Frustrated.
"You're so stubborn."
A pause.
"Then why are you acting different today?"
That question lingered.
Heavier than the rest.
Jiwon's fingers curled slightly at her side.
For a moment—
She didn't answer.
Then—
"It's just…"
A small pause.
"My parents' death anniversary today."
The words were quiet.
Almost casual.
But they didn't feel that way.
Yerim's expression changed instantly.
Her eyes softened.
"Oh…"
She stepped a little closer.
"It's that…"
Her voice lowered gently.
"It's okay to be sad, you know."
Jiwon nodded once.
"I know."
But she didn't look convinced.
—
The wind moved softly through the garden.
Leaves rustled.
And for a moment—
Jiwon didn't look like someone untouchable.
Just someone…
Trying not to feel too much.
The silence lingered between them.
Soft.
Heavy.
Jiwon let out a quiet sigh.
"…Is that all you wanted to say?"
Yerim blinked, slightly caught off guard.
"…Sorry."
Jiwon frowned faintly.
"Why are you apologizing?"
A small pause.
"It's not your fault."
Yerim nodded slowly.
"…Yeah."
Another moment passed.
Then Jiwon straightened slightly.
"Let's go."
Her tone returned to normal.
"I'm fine."
Yerim studied her face for a second—
Then nodded.
They walked back together.
—
The rest of the classes passed quietly.
Too quietly.
No interruptions.
No tension.
Just time moving forward.
—
The final bell rang.
Chairs scraped.
Voices filled the room again.
Students stood, laughing, talking, leaving in groups.
Normal.
Everything looked normal.
Jiwon packed her bag.
And left.
Alone.
—
The sunlight was still high when she reached the cemetery.
It was quiet.
Peaceful.
Empty.
Rows of names carved into stone.
Stories that had already ended.
Jiwon stopped in front of one.
Two names.
Side by side.
She stood there for a moment.
Then stepped forward.
A bouquet in her hands.
Fresh.
Carefully chosen.
She placed it gently in front of the grave.
"…It's been seven years."
Her voice was soft.
Barely above a whisper.
"I'm turning eighteen this year."
A small pause.
"I'm getting older…"
Her gaze lowered slightly.
"…but not old enough."
Silence settled around her.
The wind moved lightly through the trees.
"I have friends now."
Another pause.
"They're good."
Her fingers tightened slightly at her side.
"They stay by my side…"
A faint breath.
"…but I don't know for how long."
Her eyes didn't leave the stone.
"I clean the house every day."
Her voice stayed steady.
"I cook too."
A small pause.
"But no one sees it."
No one answers.
"No one eats with me."
The words came out quieter now.
"The house is big…"
A breath.
"…but no one lives in it."
Silence.
Long.
Unmoving.
Then—
"I miss our time."
Her voice softened.
"That's all I wanted to say today."
She stepped back slowly.
Looked at the grave one last time.
"I'll come again."
And then—
She turned.
And walked away.
—
Night fell quietly.
—
At Yerim's house—
"Hey."
Yerim's voice echoed lightly through the room.
"I found this in your drawer."
She held up a photograph.
Old.
Carefully kept.
Jeahyun turned immediately.
"…Where did you find that?"
His tone shifted.
"Give it to me."
Yerim smiled, teasing.
"Ooo… looks like I found something important."
"You're too young to understand," he muttered.
Yerim tilted her head.
"Oh?"
A grin spread across her face.
"So that's why you never got married?"
"Shut up."
She laughed softly, looking at the photo again.
"She's beautiful."
A pause.
"Definitely the reason."
Jeahyun stepped closer, reaching for it.
"Give it back."
But Yerim pulled it away, still smiling.
"There's no fun if I just give it back."
He shot her a look.
A warning this time.
Yerim finally sighed.
"Okay, okay. Joke aside…"
Her tone softened slightly.
"Who is she?"
A brief silence.
Then—
"As you guessed."
Yerim's eyes widened slightly.
"Ooo…"
A softer smile now.
"So she really was someone special."
Jeahyun's gaze lowered.
"…Yeah."
A pause.
"Very special."
Yerim looked at him more carefully now.
"So… where is she?"
That question changed everything.
Jeahyun's eyes stilled.
Something unspoken settled there.
Something heavy.
"…She's not here anymore."
Yerim blinked.
"So… she left you?"
A small shake of his head.
"…She left everyone."
A pause.
"She's not here anymore."
The room fell quiet.
Yerim's expression softened.
"I understand."
Jeahyun exhaled quietly.
"Go."
His voice returned to normal.
"It's late."
"You should sleep."
Yerim looked at him for a second longer.
Then nodded.
"…Okay."
She turned and walked to her room.
—
Closing the door behind her.
She leaned against it lightly.
And whispered to herself—
"…Everyone around me is so sad."