Chapter 2: Cracks in the Surface

The next morning, the classroom buzzed with routine energy — rustling books, sleepy yawns, whispers about the latest gossip. Jiyun slipped in quietly and returned to her seat by the window.

“Morning,” Areum greeted her with a small smile. Jiyun gave a polite nod in return.

Areum noticed the uneaten lunchbox from yesterday still tucked in Jiyun’s bag. Her heart ached a little, but she didn’t say anything. Not yet.

“Do you want to sit with me at lunch today?” she offered casually, as if it weren’t a big deal.

Jiyun blinked. “Why?”

Areum gave a small laugh. “I don’t know. You seem... peaceful. Like a quiet kind of strength.”

Jiyun didn’t respond. But her fingers curled slightly around her pen. It wasn’t quite a thank you, but it wasn’t a no.

From his desk, Minjae slouched with his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were barely open as he listened to the morning chatter, half asleep.

Areum leaned toward him, nudging his arm with her pencil. “Hey, you still up for the picnic this weekend?”

Minjae let out a sleepy hum. “Huh? Oh, yeah. My mom's already packed half the kitchen. You know how she is.”

Areum grinned. “Mine keeps asking if you'll bring that basketball again.”

Minjae cracked a small smile. “She just wants to see me dunk over your dad again.”

“You didn’t dunk. You tripped over a bush.”

“Still scored,” he shrugged.

They both laughed quietly. Just two childhood friends sharing an easy rhythm.

Areum looked down at her notes, her smile fading just a little. “I kind of envy you sometimes. Your family’s so... normal.”

Minjae didn’t reply at first. “Maybe. But sometimes ‘normal’ feels boring.”

“Boring sounds peaceful.”

Later, during lunch break, Areum kept her word. She found Jiyun by the lockers and offered a can of juice.

“I thought you might like orange.”

Jiyun looked at it like it was foreign. But she took it with a small nod. “Thanks.”

They made their way up to the rooftop.

Areum chatted lightly, not expecting much. She didn’t press questions. She just talked — about school, teachers, the horrible vending machine coffee.

Jiyun didn’t say much, but she listened. That was more than most did.

Then, quietly, she pulled out her lunchbox — but again, she didn’t eat.

“You’re not eating?” Areum asked.

“I’m not hungry.”

Areum frowned slightly but didn’t push it.

After a quiet pause, Jiyun reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny recorder.

Without a word, she pressed play and placed one earbud in.

Areum tilted her head slightly. “Music?”

Jiyun shook her head. “My dad.”

A soft, warm male voice crackled through the earpiece:

“My Jiyun… if you’re listening to this, it means you're sad again. But remember — pain means you’re still here. And you’re meant to be here, my brave girl.”

Jiyun turned to the window, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the school walls. A breeze stirred her hair gently, but she didn’t move.

There were dozens of recordings saved — all her father’s voice, left for her by her grandfather after her father’s death. She listened to one every day. Sometimes more.

It was her only comfort.

Areum stayed quiet, watching her.

Then Jiyun’s phone buzzed.

Eunbi.

Her only real friend — her maid’s daughter, studying abroad — checked in every day.

“Lunch check,” the voice came through cheerfully. “Still alive?”

“Barely.”

“She eating?” Eunbi voice asked.

Jiyun glanced at Areum, who was trying not to eavesdrop. “No.”

“Tell her to nag you. That’s why I gave her the job.”

Areum blinked. “Job?!”

Jiyun ended the call with a tired smile. “Ignore her.”

Areum couldn’t. She was still processing everything — the recorder, the voice, the fact that this stunning girl who seemed untouchable was carrying heartbreak like invisible chains.

Meanwhile, in Class 2-D, Jisoo tapped her pen impatiently.

“She was talking to Baek Haneul yesterday,” one of her friends whispered. “In the library.”

Jisoo sat up. “Who?”

“That girl — the smart one. Areum.”

Her smile thinned. “Oh?”

Her friends kept whispering, but her attention had narrowed sharply. Areum? That timid girl who always trailed after Minjae?

And now… Haneul?

Jisoo’s eyes darkened.

Let the games begin.

That evening, in the library, Areum was browsing quietly when she spotted Haneul by the reference shelf.

“Oh,” she said, startled.

He smiled. “We meet again.”