A thin blade of light slipped through the narrow gap in the curtains, washing the room in a muted shade of blue.
She lay still upon the bed, unmoving, her arm slowly extended upward—as if reaching for something just beyond her grasp, something that lingered near the ceiling yet never came closer. The faint glow traced along the delicate veins beneath her skin, illuminating them in soft blue lines. For a moment, she studied her own hand with quiet intensity, as though it belonged to a stranger she was trying to understand.
A fleeting image from yesterday brushed past her mind. She didn't want to linger there. Without allowing the pointless thoughts to settle, Nau Rin pushed herself up and began preparing for school.
As always, she pulled her cap low over her eyes before stepping outside. She joined the others without a word, and together they walked toward the bus stop.
The moment they passed through the school gates, they dispersed—each heading their own way. Nau Rin entered her classroom and took her seat at the very back, by the window. No matter how often the seating arrangements changed, her place remained the same, as if it had been reserved for her all along.
While taking out her things, her gaze paused. The compartment was crammed full of trash—stuffed in carelessly, leaving no space untouched.
How annoying… having to deal with this so early in the morning.
She let out a quiet sigh, gathering the mess in one motion and tossing it into the bin. There was no desire left in her to focus on the lesson. Instead, she slipped on her earphones and turned her gaze outside.
Inside, the classroom felt dim and subdued, wrapped in a heavy silence. Outside, sunlight spilled freely over the swaying branches, and birds sang as if untouched by anything beyond the moment. The teacher noticed her but simply continued the lesson.
The next class was music.
As she stepped inside, her eyes were immediately drawn to the front of the room, where a polished black upright piano stood, catching the light. Along one wall, glass cabinets displayed rows of traditional janggu drums, their white surfaces marked with the school's emblem.
On the opposite wall hung a solemn line of portraits featuring renowned Korean composers alongside masters like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Ludwig van Beethoven. Their distant gazes seemed to grace the room, as if welcoming every note that came to life there.
She stood at the far edge of the back row, lined up with the other students. One student pressed the keys of the piano, letting a melody unfold beneath careful fingers, and the rest followed in unison, their voices rising together in a steady chorus. The teacher guided them, shaping the flow of the music, keeping each note in place.
Holding her book, Nau Rin walked along the school's open-air corridor. The passage was bordered by low railings and white columns, a quiet stretch where few students passed.
Ahead, a small group of boys leaned lazily against the railing, staring out into the open air. One of them noticed her approaching and jerked his chin, a silent prompt for the others to follow his gaze, a sly smile tugging at his lips.
Nau Rin tried to pass him without a word. He shifted, cutting her off again. She moved the other way—only to be blocked once more.
Her patience thinned. She lifted her eyes and looked straight at him.
"Could you move?" she asked, her tone even.
The boy only smiled wider, a mocking glint in his eyes. Tilting his chin to the side, he gestured lazily.
"Then go. Who's stopping you?"
She tried again. He stepped in front of her, deliberate this time. Laughter broke out behind him—loud, careless.
"Well? Looks like you're not going anywhere now," one of them said, grinning.
In one swift motion, the boy snatched the book from her hands.
"Give it back," Nau Rin said, her voice firm.
"What's the big deal?" he replied carelessly. "I'm just looking."
He flipped through the pages, slow and deliberate, before glancing back at his friends.
"Wow… no wonder she's ranked number one," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look—everything's in English."
Then he tossed the book to the others.
Nau Rin snatched her book back from their hands and tried to move past them, but he closed in again, blocking her way without leaving even the slightest gap.
Then—suddenly—one of them slipped behind her and flipped up the hem of her skirt.
For a split second, time seemed to fracture. The fabric lifted into the air, and her legs were exposed before she could react. Sharp whistles and loud, mocking laughter cut through the corridor, echoing against the pale walls.
She grabbed the fabric instantly, forcing it back down in one sharp motion. A cold, crawling sensation ran down her spine, twisting into something nauseating, something that made her stomach tighten. Her brows drew together, her jaw clenched. Her hands curled into fists so tightly that her nails pressed dug into her palms.
She looked at them—really looked this time—her gaze filled with raw anger and disgust.
"What, embarrassed?" one of them jeered. "Haven't you been with plenty of guys already?"
Before the laughter could swell again, a voice cut through the air from a distance.
"What are you doing? Get back to your classrooms!"
A teacher's sharp command broke the moment apart. The boys turned reluctantly, muttering under their breath as they dispersed, their amusement fading as they walked away.
Nau Rin stood unmoving, her eyes boring into them, following every step of their retreat like a blade.
—
As she made her way down the stairs, Minho approached her with an easy smile.
"I can't walk with you today," he said.
Nau Rin looked at him.
"Why?"
Minho tilted his head slightly, gesturing behind him. A girl was following a few steps back, walking quietly.
"I got a girlfriend," he said, a hint of pride slipping into his voice. "I should walk her home."
When they reached the shoe lockers, he leaned a little closer and asked, almost excitedly,
"She's pretty, right?"
"Yeah," Nau Rin replied calmly. "She is."
Students continued to pass by, one after another, until Nau Rin was left alone. She stood there for a moment, watching their figures fade into the distance.
At last, she opened her locker and took out her outdoor shoes. As she slipped one foot inside, something wet and soft pressed against it.
She stopped.
A dull gray substance oozed slightly from within the shoe. She quickly pulled her foot out. Her white sock was stained—smeared with leftover food, bits of rice and seaweed clinging to it.
She braced one hand against the locker and buried her face in the other, her skin bunching beneath her fingers in a contorted grimace as she stood there, unmoving.
Then, abruptly, she yanked off her sock, grabbed her shoes, and headed toward the back of the school. Her steps were heavy, sharp against the ground.
At the water tap, she set her bag down beside her and began to wash—soaping the sock, rinsing the shoes relentlessly, scrubbing them insistently. But the unpleasant, stale smell refused to disappear.
She scrubbed more fiercely, then violently, until her knuckles turned white.
Until, finally, she gripped the shoes tightly and slammed them against the stone surface several times. Her chest heaved, rising and falling sharply as her breathing grew rough and uneven.
Nau Rin tucked her wet socks into her bag and slipped her feet into the damp shoes, nearly barefoot against the cold interior. Without stopping at the bus stop, she walked straight past it, choosing instead to continue on foot all the way home. The sunlight was harsh, glaring down on her, yet she didn't search for shade—she just kept moving.
—
At home, Mrs. Go had already set the dinner table, arranging the dishes neatly. Mr. Go returned from work and took his seat.
"Where's Arim? Isn't she eating?" he asked.
"She's in the shower. When I got home, she was already pounding on that thing…" Mrs. Go said, gesturing toward a punching bag barely visible outside the window. "Maybe we shouldn't have let her keep it."
"I see…" Mr. Go murmured, thoughtful.
"Do you think something happened at school?"
"Maybe. I'll ask her," he said.
Before long, Nau Rin came downstairs and sat at the table. Her mother served her a bowl of hot rice from the cooker and sat down as well.
In the middle of the meal, Mr. Go spoke.
"How are your studies going?"
"They're fine," Nau Rin answered briefly.
"Is that so…" He nodded, then asked again, "Anything unusual happen at school?"
Nau Rin placed some side dishes over her rice, glanced at him once, and replied,
"Nothing special. Same as always."
Mr. Go nodded and turned his attention fully back to his plate, his posture relaxing as he picked up his spoon again. Meanwhile, Mrs. Go—who had been quietly observing them both with her chopsticks in hand— resumed her meal.
During the day, the house stood empty. Her parents had left early to attend a wedding.
Nau Rin slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped outside. The sky was gray, a light wind moving through the air, but it was a comfortable day to walk.
She made her way to a "thousand-won" store near the subway station. Inside, rows of household items filled the space. She wandered through the aisles before pausing in the tools section, her eyes scanning the shelves.
She picked up a hammer, turning it slowly in her hand as if testing its weight. Then she reached for a power drill hanging nearby. As her finger brushed the button, it whirred to life unexpectedly. She flinched, quickly glancing around before placing it back.
At the register, she set her items down one by one from her basket. Inside were a lock and a set of strong adhesive pads.
After leaving the store, she turned and headed toward the street lined with electronics shops.