The day Seoyeon’s parents told her that she would be transferred to a new school, a quiet dread settled over her. It was a decision that had already been made, and she could do nothing but accept it. As her mother spoke of new opportunities and fresh starts, Seoyeon found herself withdrawing inwardly, thinking that the life she had once imagined would never come to be. Her dreams, her hobbies—the small comforts she had built around her quiet world—seemed impossible to pursue now.

“I think I will not have the dreams I want to live,” she thought, silently, watching her parents’ mouths move but feeling detached from their words. “I can’t fulfill my hobbies. I won’t have time for anything I love.” Her gaze lingered on the worn pages of her notebook, her only companion in the silence of her world.

Her father’s voice broke her reverie. “Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes meeting hers with an odd concern.

She hesitated. “I’m fine,” she replied, but her voice betrayed no emotion. The truth was, she didn’t know how to express what she was feeling. It didn’t matter. Her family didn’t notice the gaps inside her, the space where her dreams used to live.

The next day, they took Seoyeon and her younger sister to their new school, Mokhwa High School. It was a big, imposing building, set against a backdrop of a gray, overcast sky. The streets around the school were lined with old,

familiar shops, but everything felt different now, as if the world around her was suddenly out of place.

Seoyeon, silent as always, looked up at the school’s structure. “Is this place going to be like my old school?” she wondered. “Will the people here be the same, or will this be different?” She thought about the possibility of making friends, but the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like an impossibility. “Will I end up alone again?” she asked herself.

Just as these thoughts swirled in her mind, a teacher appeared—mid-aged, with a stern yet welcoming expression. “We need to administer some exams for your children,” the teacher said, her voice polite but firm. “It will take some time. It’s 1:00 PM now; you can pick them up at 3:00 PM.”

Her father nodded, then turned to Seoyeon. Without a word, he left her at the school, taking her sister with him because she was still in primary school. Seoyeon felt a small pang of loneliness as she stood in the large, echoing hallway, but she said nothing. She followed the teacher up the stairs to an empty classroom on the upper floor.

The room was large and bright, with windows that opened to the outside world. As Seoyeon stepped inside, the teacher handed her a stack of exam papers. “Work on these while I step out for a moment,” the teacher said before leaving the room, her footsteps fading down the hallway.

Seoyeon sat down at the desk, the quiet hum of the room surrounding her. She could hear the distant chatter of children in the hallways, but they felt far away—like they belonged to another world. Her focus turned to the window. Outside, a row of towering trees swayed gently in the breeze. The sight calmed her, grounding her in the stillness of the moment.

She picked up her pen, eyes still wandering to the trees, watching their branches dance with the wind. The exam papers sat untouched for a few minutes, but her mind was already drifting. “This is my chance,” she thought, rolling her pen between her fingers. “I can prove to everyone that I’m good at studying, good at everything, if I want to be. If I try hard enough.”

Her gaze shifted back to the trees outside, their movement steady and graceful. “Will this school help me live a better life? Will it give me the chance to show who I really am?”

Minutes passed, and the boredom began to creep in. Seoyeon started rolling her pen absentmindedly, her thoughts swirling again. The quiet around her was both a comfort and a burden.

She knew she was at a crossroads, but the uncertainty of it all made her heart ache. Would Mokhwa High be a place where she could finally belong, or would she remain as invisible here as she had been before? The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Seoyeon stared out at the trees, the silence of the room echoing her quiet doubts.

⸻

As Seoyeon sat in the quiet classroom, the soft rustling of the trees outside and the gentle breeze from the window lured her into a peaceful, almost dreamlike state. Her pen slipped from her fingers, and soon, her eyelids grew heavy. Her head sank onto the desk, her hair brushing against the cool air as she drifted into sleep.

In the quiet of her slumber, memories from her old school flooded her mind, each one sharp and painful, like scars etched into her heart.

She remembered the shame she felt when her teacher scolded her and asked her to be naked for not handing in her assignments on time, the sting of being humiliated in front of the class. She could still see the cruel laughter of her classmates when she couldn’t answer a simple question, when the pressure of their eyes made her freeze. The harsh words of her teacher, calling her a failure, ringing in her ears, telling her she was useless because she didn’t do her work properly. And the most painful memory of all—when she was overlooked for the dance program. She had practiced tirelessly, but the teacher had said she couldn’t dance, her dream dashed before it even started.

Each memory felt like a weight on her chest, suffocating her. She had always been the one who was left behind. Always invisible. Always not enough.

Tears slipped silently from Seoyeon’s closed eyes as she slept, her face a mirror of the pain she had carried for so long.

Suddenly, a voice pulled her back to reality. “Seoyeon, wake up,” a gentle voice called. She blinked, her eyes slowly opening to the soft light of the classroom. For a moment, she couldn’t remember where she was. Her teacher stood before her, concern written across her face.

“Are you okay?” the teacher asked, noticing the tears on Seoyeon’s cheeks.

Seoyeon froze. The question, the concern—it felt so unfamiliar, so distant from the cold indifference she had grown used to. “Am I dreaming?” she thought, her mind clouded with doubt. Was this teacher really concerned about her, or was it just her imagination playing tricks?

The teacher’s hand rested gently on Seoyeon’s shoulder, and her voice was soft but firm. “Are you afraid that this new school will not be good for you?”

Seoyeon’s heart raced as the words sank in. Afraid? She wasn’t sure if she was afraid of the school or the people there. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. But the truth was something deeper, something she had never voiced before. “No,” she thought quietly to herself, “I’m afraid of being alone again.”

The teacher’s eyes widened slightly as Seoyeon remained silent, her expression unreadable. She asked again, “Are you okay?”

For a moment, Seoyeon hesitated, her heart heavy with emotions she didn’t know how to express. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Hearing this, the teacher’s expression softened, the concerned frown melting into a warm smile. “Come on, let’s go downstairs,” she said kindly.

Seoyeon stood up slowly, still unsure of what had just transpired. As she followed the teacher, her eyes moved around the school, taking in the students who were scattered around the halls. Some were playing in the courtyard, others were waiting in line at the bathroom, and a few were filling their water bottles. It all felt so different from her old school, where she had felt so isolated.

They reached the ground floor, and there, by the school gate, Seoyeon saw her father and sister waiting for her. The sight of them brought a sense of relief, but also a quiet sadness. Her new life had begun, and yet, a part of her was still clinging to the past.

As they walked out of the school, her father turned to her and asked, “Does this school make you feel comfortable? Do you like it?”

Seoyeon thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, it’s good. There are so many students here… more than my old school,” she said softly, not quite sure why those words felt like they held so much weight.

Her father smiled at her. “I’m glad. Just remember to study hard. It’s all for your future.”

Seoyeon nodded again, but the words felt distant. She wasn’t sure if she could really fit in, or if this school would offer her the chance to build the life she wanted. But for now, she walked beside her father and sister, her heart heavy with questions, her mind lost in the silence of her thoughts.

⸻

The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft light on Seoyeon’s room. Today was a new day—her first full day at Mokhwa High School. She couldn’t decide whether she was nervous or excited. A mixture of both settled deep in her chest as she adjusted her uniform and glanced at her reflection. She was about to step into the unknown once again.

As she and her younger sister walked alongside their father, the familiar streets of Mokhwa felt a little less daunting, though the weight of the unknown still hung heavily over Seoyeon. Her sister, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed, chattering away about her new school day as if nothing had changed. Seoyeon smiled faintly, but her heart raced a little faster with every step toward the school gates.

Once they reached the school, Seoyeon’s sister was taken to her own class, and Seoyeon was left alone with a senior student who had been assigned to guide her to her new class.

The senior’s name was Jiwon, a kind-faced girl with short hair and a welcoming smile. As they walked toward the classroom, Seoyeon felt a slight knot in her stomach. The halls were filled with the chatter of students—laughter, voices, the constant hum of activity. The door to the classroom opened, and Seoyeon stepped inside.

The moment she entered, all conversations seemed to pause. The entire room fell silent for a brief second, and every pair of eyes turned toward her. Seoyeon could feel the weight of their gazes, each one curious, skeptical, or indifferent. Just as quickly, however, the students returned to their conversations, laughing and chatting again as if nothing had happened.

“Alright, everyone,” Jiwon said loudly, her voice cutting through the noise. “This is Seoyeon. She’s a new student, so let’s make sure she feels comfortable here.”

Seoyeon felt a slight flush on her cheeks. No one had ever made her feel like this—like she was seen, like she mattered. But it didn’t ease the awkwardness that gripped her. Jiwon turned to Seoyeon and asked, “Is there a specific seat you’d like to take?”

Seoyeon blinked in surprise. The question was simple, yet it made her feel strangely vulnerable. No one’s ever asked me what I prefer before, she thought to herself. But she didn’t know how to answer.

“I… I don’t mind,” Seoyeon muttered, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Jiwon, sensing her hesitation, smiled gently and led her to a desk in the middle of the room, where two girls were already sitting.

“These two will sit with you,” Jiwon said. “Take care of her, okay?” She turned to the girls, who nodded enthusiastically.

Seoyeon sat down, her heart pounding in her chest. She was still trying to adjust, still unsure of how to talk to her new classmates. The two girls beside her began talking as if they had known each other for years, their voices light and easy.

One of the girls, with long dark hair and a warm smile, turned to Seoyeon. “I’m Sumin,” she said. “Nice to meet you!”

Seoyeon smiled, unsure of how to respond, but said softly, “I’m Seoyeon.”

The other girl, with shorter hair and an easygoing demeanor, smiled as well. “I’m Haeun. Welcome to our class!”

The three of them introduced themselves, and for the first time in a long while, Seoyeon felt like she was part of something. Even though she was still feeling a little awkward, the warmth in their voices made her feel a little less out of place. The girls continued talking with each other, mostly about their classes and upcoming school events, while Seoyeon quietly listened, still trying to find her place in the conversation.

Suddenly, Haeun paused and looked over to the third row, where a boy was sitting alone. She narrowed her eyes and then called out loudly, “Jinwoo! What are you looking at?”

Seoyeon’s heart skipped a beat as she followed Haeun’s gaze. The boy—Jinwoo—was sitting two rows over, and his eyes were fixed on her. His gaze was intense but fleeting, as if he hadn’t meant to be caught staring. As soon as he realized he’d been noticed, he quickly looked away, a small laugh escaping his lips.

The whole bench burst into laughter, except for Seoyeon. She could feel her face warm in embarrassment, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jinwoo.

Haeun giggled, nudging Seoyeon. “He’s cute, right? Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

Seoyeon didn’t respond, her gaze still fixed on Jinwoo, who was now awkwardly pretending to study his notebook, his cheeks slightly flushed. She couldn’t help but wonder Is he really looking at me? Or am i just being delusional?

Jinwoo looked up once more, his eyes meeting Seoyeon’s for a split second before he quickly looked away, his lips curving into a shy smile. The whole room seemed to fade into the background as Seoyeon’s heart skipped another beat.

“He’s kind of shy, huh?” Haeun whispered with a teasing grin.

Seoyeon didn’t know how to respond. She just smiled faintly, feeling both embarrassed and oddly curious.

⸻