Chapter Text
Get up, wash myself, eat breakfast, go to school, go home. Repeat.
Life in Gyeongju was never eventful. Everyone knew everyone's business, which was one reason why the older women had such a good time here.
"Did you hear? Harin only got a 62 on her latest maths test!"
"Did you see the new teacher at the high school?"
"Yes, she looks very young."
"Little Seoyeon from down the road now has a boyfriend. She could've done so much better . . ."
"Did you hear? The Choi family's son got into university in Seoul."
"Really? That's impressive for a kid from this town."
"Did you know there was another suicide in Anggang-eup just a week ago? The poor kid probably couldn't handle it."
"The rice harvest looks good this year."
"Let's hope the weather stays nice."
I walk along the quiet streets on my neighbourhood. The morning mist is still evident as I approach my school.
Another day full of studying. Another day full of teachers' lectures. Another day of putting on a mask to please everyone.
I sit down in my usual spot at the back of the class beside the window. My bag slides down my shoulder and I prepare for the first period.
My eyes drift across the room, scanning the people coming in and chatting with their friends.
My attention is caught when I hear two boys from my class tease their usual 'victim' again. He was a new boy from overseas, that much I knew. I don't even know why they began to bully him in the first place. I wasn't one of the nosy types.
Everyone turns their head away when the two guys begin to toss his things around and push him.
As if it doesn't bother them, as if it isn't even happening — as if the victim deserves it.
I was one of them who turned their head away.
It wasn't my battle to fight. I don't know this boy; he could handle himself.
I pull out my phone and scroll through social media while we still have time to ourselves. New make-up tips, trendy products, popular poses you can do with your friends to post on SNS, the latest fashion trends . . . The feed goes on and on.
Our teacher soon comes in and everyone takes their seats. She calls everyone's name in class order. Soon it's my row's turn and I lift my hand and say, "Here."
I expect for the person next to me to do the same, but he stays quiet.
My eyes glance over at him. I've never noticed him before.
Was he new?
I expect for the teacher to scold him, but it seems she just continues on, not even bothered that someone stayed quiet.
I avert my eyes again and focus on the class.
Soon, I forget about the strange encounter and concentrate on doing the maths equations for the next two periods.
My day goes over like that and the 'new' guy comes to mind again. He did nothing all day — no taking notes, no talking; nothing.
Strange . . .
By the time 03:10 p.m. rolls around, I pack my bag and exit the classroom. I meet some of my friends on my way out and bid them goodbye, wishing them a nice day before I leave the school grounds and walk home.
Then it all starts again.
Get up, wash myself, eat breakfast, go to school, go home. Repeat.
But the image of that boy keeps replaying in my mind.
The way he sat there quietly.
The way he never spoke.
The way no one seemed to notice him.
I frown slightly as I walk down the familiar street towards home.
Strange.
I've lived in this town my entire life.
Yet somehow, I can't remember ever seeing him before today.