Nobody mentioned the hands.
At breakfast, June sat beside Bunny.
NS sat across from her.
Kitty sat beside NC.
I sat across from Kitty.
Our positions looked ordinary enough to survive observation.
That was the problem with secrets. After enough practice, they became better behaved than the people keeping them.
JP arrived carrying his phone horizontally.
"Emergency meeting in Room 306 after breakfast."
TZ looked up from the activity schedule.
"We have the balloon workshop at eight."
"Then emergency meeting before eight."
"What emergency?"
"The boys' room has failed to create one positive memory."
NS continued eating.
"That is not an emergency."
"You are part of the emergency."
Mr. Kim entered with Ms. Nway before JP could present evidence.
The windows behind them had turned white.
Fog covered the courtyard, the gate, and the buildings across the road. It had arrived between one spoonful and the next.
Jihye checked the time.
"The forecast says full visibility."
Cherry looked through the window.
"The valley disagrees."
Ms. Nway placed both hands on the back of an empty chair.
"This morning's ridge walk is postponed. The eastern path becomes dangerous in heavy fog. We will continue balloon preparation inside the courtyard workshop."
Bunny looked relieved.
"Does balloon preparation require walking uphill?"
"Only emotionally," JP said.
Ms. Nway continued.
"The wind is expected to clear before tonight's exhibition. The launch committee will inspect conditions at five."
Jihye turned her phone toward Anna.
"There is no wind advisory either."
Outside, every festival flag above the gate pulled east.
Steam from the kitchen chimney moved west.
Mr. Kim followed Jihye's gaze.
"Bring jackets," he said.
It was not an explanation.
It was the only instruction available.
JP's emergency meeting lasted eleven minutes.
He forced all four of us to sit on separate beds and opened a mobile game.
"One match," he said. "No politics, no relationships, no rankings, no folklore. We become emotionally underdeveloped Year One students for fifteen minutes."
TZ checked the clock.
"We have twelve."
"Then become underdeveloped faster."
The teams were selected randomly.
JP and NS played together.
TZ and I took the other side.
For the first three minutes, the room sounded like it used to.
JP blamed the internet.
TZ blamed JP.
NS explained a strategy nobody followed.
I attacked too early and pretended it was intentional.
Then JP abandoned his position to chase a single opponent across the map.
"Come back," NS said.
"I almost have him."
"You are leaving the objective."
"The objective insulted my family."
TZ defeated him near the edge of the screen.
JP dropped his phone onto the bed.
"Reliable people have no mercy."
"You walked into the tower," TZ said.
"I trusted architecture."
I laughed.
NS did too.
The sounds overlapped before either of us could stop them.
JP looked from him to me.
For one brief moment, his plan had worked.
Then the match ended.
NS's team had won.
He placed his phone on the bed.
"You should have defended the center."
"It was one game," I said.
"You made the same mistake twice."
"I was trying to help TZ."
"By losing your own position."
JP stood between us.
"The emergency meeting is now adjourned before nostalgia becomes ranked competition."
The room became quiet again.
Eleven minutes.
That was how long Year One survived.
The balloon workshop occupied the dining hall and half the courtyard.
The artisans had lowered the large frame onto padded stands. The King and the King-Slayer remained unfinished on opposite sides, separated by the silver star.
Thin paper covered the floor.
Bowls of paste sat on every table.
The paste had been mixed with stored rainwater because Ms. Nway refused to use water from the temporary tanker.
Jihye noticed.
"Is the tap water still tasting unusual?"
One artisan nodded.
"Only some mornings. Better not to risk the paper."
Cherry looked at the bowl.
"The balloon receives cleaner water than we do."
"The balloon does not complain about ration hours," Bunny said.
Mr. Kim divided the work before the conversation could return to municipal testing.
NC, Anna, and Jihye were assigned to measure paper panels and check their weight.
Bunny and Cherry prepared the colored lantern pieces around the lower ring.
JP and TZ constructed the wish pocket and launch tether.
June and Kitty received the silver star.
NS and I were told to reinforce the central frame.
Nobody believed the assignments were accidental.
Ms. Nway looked at our faces.
"The balloon cannot rise if everyone works only beside the people they prefer."
JP raised his hand.
"Can it rise if everyone works beside the people they resent?"
"That depends on the knots."
"I respect the honesty of this city."
The central frame required two people to hold each bamboo ring while a third artisan secured the joints.
NS took the side beneath the crown.
I stood beneath the black wing.
We lifted together.
The circle tilted toward him.
"Higher," NS said.
"Your side is pulling down."
"Because you are holding yours too low."
"I am following the mark."
The artisan pointed between us.
"Both sides higher."
We adjusted at the same time.
The frame leveled.
For several minutes, we worked without speaking.
The old rhythm remained beneath the newer anger. I knew when NS would shift his grip. He knew when my wrist became tired. When a bamboo strip slipped, both of us caught it before the artisan reacted.
JP saw from the other table.
"Still brothers," he said.
Neither of us answered.
The artisan tied the final joint.
NS examined it.
"The crown side needs another support."
"It will make the frame uneven."
"It carries more paper."
"Then remove weight from the crown."
"That is the main design."
"The balloon still needs balance."
NS looked toward me.
"Balance does not mean weakening the strongest section."
"It does if the strongest section pulls everything down."
The artisan placed another bamboo strip between us.
"Reinforce the center," she said. "Not the crown. Not the wing. If the center holds, both survive long enough to rise."
JP looked pleased.
"The balloon artist has entered family therapy."
NS moved the support toward the center.
I held it while he tied the first knot.
We did not apologize.
The frame became stronger anyway.
June and Kitty worked at the opposite table.
The silver star had been divided into twelve paper sections. Each section needed to overlap perfectly or light would escape through the gaps.
Kitty spread paste across one edge.
June aligned the next panel.
"Too far left," Kitty said.
"It matches the line."
"The line is crooked."
"Then the person who drew it was crooked."
"That person was you."
June moved the panel two millimeters.
"Better?"
"Yes."
They continued in silence.
The quiet lasted until Bunny and Cherry carried another tray into the courtyard.
NC, Anna, and Jihye had moved to the weighing scale.
For the first time, nobody stood close enough to interrupt them.
June pressed a paper seam with her thumb.
"How long?"
Kitty did not look up.
"You asked him the same question last night."
"I wasn't asking about the market."
"Six days."
June's hand stopped.
"Since the arcade?"
"After."
"Because I slapped him."
"Because you made it clear you were choosing someone else."
"That is not the same thing."
"It felt the same from where we were standing."
June smoothed the paper too hard.
A wrinkle appeared beneath her palm.
"You wanted him," she said. "Now you have him."
Kitty looked across the courtyard.
I was holding the central frame with NS.
"Do I?"
June followed her gaze.
"You kissed him."
"So did you."
"That was different."
"It always is when it belongs to you."
June lowered her voice.
"At least I did not wait until he was angry enough to mistake retaliation for love."
Kitty's fingers tightened around the brush.
"No. You waited until NS hurt him enough for choosing NS to feel like justice."
The silver paper tore beneath June's hand.
Both girls looked down.
The tear was small.
It crossed the center of the star.
Anna approached carrying a replacement panel.
She looked at their faces, then at the damaged paper.
"The paste weakened it," June said.
"Of course," Anna replied.
She placed the new panel on the table.
"Be careful with the next one."
She did not ask what had really torn.
JP and TZ sat on the floor building the wish pocket.
The pocket was a small paper envelope secured above the lower ring, far enough from the flame to remain intact during launch.
JP tested the first knot.
It came apart in his hand.
"Sabotage."
"You tied it backward," TZ said.
"Knots should respect creative direction."
TZ reached across him and retied it.
His phone illuminated on the floor.
Two message previews appeared.
THOON: YOU DISAPPEARED AGAIN.
SRM: DID YOU SEE WHAT I SENT?
JP read both before he could stop himself.
TZ turned the phone over.
The unfinished tether rested between them.
"Both?" JP asked.
"It is not what you think."
"That sentence has never improved a situation."
"They are conversations."
"At the same time."
"I am not dating either of them."
JP tightened the knot until the cord pressed into his fingers.
"That makes it more efficient."
"Why does it matter to you?"
The question arrived sharper than TZ intended.
JP released the cord.
"It doesn't."
"JP."
"I said it doesn't. You can message the entire Business and Engineering schools. Create an interdisciplinary program the university failed to provide."
"You know that is not what I am doing."
"I clearly don't know what you are doing."
TZ looked toward the other tables.
Nobody appeared to be listening.
JP smiled suddenly.
It was the smile he used when a wound needed to become entertainment before anyone saw it bleed.
"Relax. I support digital diplomacy."
He stood and carried the completed tether toward Mr. Kim.
The knot remained unfinished on TZ's side.
By noon, the fog disappeared.
It did not lift gradually.
One moment, the compound ended at the gate.
The next, sunlight covered the entire valley.
Jihye checked the time and wrote it in her notebook.
"Eleven fifty-eight," she said.
NC looked at the clear sky.
"Maybe the launch can happen."
"If the wind remains stable."
Every festival flag above the gate hung motionless now.
The kitchen smoke continued moving west.
Jihye wrote that down too.
Mr. Kim called everyone to the courtyard for a frame test.
The artisans lifted the balloon upright.
Without hot air, it stood taller than all of us.
The crowned bird and the dark-winged bird curved around opposite sides. The silver star occupied the center, its repaired seam invisible beneath the light.
"Hold the lower ring," Ms. Nway instructed. "Do not pull. Follow the movement of the frame."
We formed a circle around it.
NC and Anna took the eastern side.
Bunny and Cherry stood near the lantern pieces.
Jihye watched the upper paper for movement.
JP and TZ held the tether from opposite ends.
Kitty stood beside me.
June stood beside NS.
The first gust arrived without warning.
The balloon leaned west.
Everyone shouted a different instruction.
"Do not pull!" Ms. Nway called.
The crown side lifted.
NS lost one hand from the ring.
I caught the bamboo before it twisted.
The opposite side dropped toward me.
NS stepped across the circle and took the weight from my arm.
For three seconds, both of us held the center together while the others stabilized the frame.
"Now lower," he said.
"Together."
We lowered it.
The balloon returned to the padded stands without tearing.
JP raised both hands.
"Still brothers. Second clinical trial."
This time, NS looked at me.
I looked back.
Neither of us denied it.
Neither of us agreed.
June touched NS's sleeve.
Kitty placed the packet of tea for Grandmother inside my jacket pocket.
The circle divided again.
NS's phone vibrated while the artisans inspected the frame.
He stepped beneath the dining-hall roof and opened the message.
It was from HS.
HS: CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN. IT IS NOT ABOUT THE PROGRAM.
NS read it twice.
June approached carrying two cups of water.
"Everything okay?"
He locked the screen.
"Yes."
She gave him one cup.
"You should answer if it is him again."
"After the launch."
"You said that yesterday."
"Yesterday, I said the call would not change anything."
"What changed?"
NS looked toward XH across the courtyard.
"Nothing yet."
He placed the phone in his pocket.
The message remained unanswered.
After lunch, Ms. Nway brought out a wooden collection box.
A narrow opening had been cut into the top.
"Place your folded wishes inside before five," she said. "The artisans will seal the pocket. Once sealed, no wish can be removed."
Bunny held up her paper.
Writing covered both sides.
"What if the wish needs context?"
"Choose the important part."
"All of it is important."
Cherry took the paper from her.
"You wrote a policy proposal."
"The sky needs details."
Students spread through the training house looking for privacy.
NC wrote at the dining table and folded her paper immediately.
Anna stared at hers for several minutes, crossed out one sentence, and began again.
Jihye wrote the exact date, time, temperature, and wind direction before adding a single line beneath them.
Cherry finished first, laughed at what she had written, tore it in half, and requested another sheet.
Bunny reduced two pages to four lines and complained that the wish had lost legal protection.
JP sat on the balcony with his diary open beneath the small square of paper.
TZ remained beside the courtyard gate.
They did not speak.
Kitty took hers to Room 203.
NC closed the door behind them.
Anna sat on the edge of her bed with her own folded wish. Jihye remained beside the window, recording the time when the fog had disappeared.
Kitty placed the herbal-tea bag on her pillow.
"The vendor called you his girlfriend," NC said.
Kitty turned toward her.
"She was trying to sell tea."
"She had already sold it."
"Then she was being friendly."
"She did not call me his girlfriend," Anna said.
"That would have complicated the sale."
Jihye looked up from her notebook.
"During the blackout, you and XH were holding hands."
Kitty stared at her.
"How did you see that?"
"The market lights returned at full brightness for approximately one second."
NC crossed her arms.
"You do not have to tell us everything. But if you expect us to cover for you, it helps to know what we are covering."
Kitty looked at the pale wish paper in her hand.
"We are together."
Anna's expression softened.
"Since when?"
"After the arcade."
NC understood first.
"After June slapped him."
"It began after that," Kitty said. "It did not continue because of that."
"Does XH know the difference?" Jihye asked.
Kitty did not answer immediately.
The silence gave them one.
Anna moved closer.
"Do you want us to keep it private?"
"Yes."
NC nodded once.
"Then it remains here."
Jihye wrote something beneath the weather notes.
Kitty looked at her.
"What did you write?"
"Private variable confirmed."
Anna laughed.
Even NC smiled.
For the first time since the arcade, Kitty allowed someone else to know what she had chosen.
Then she sat beside the window and began writing her wish.
June carried her paper into Room 204.
Bunny followed with three rejected drafts.
Cherry entered last and shut the door with her foot.
"Are you dating NS?" she asked.
June stopped beside her bed.
Bunny looked at Cherry.
"You said we would approach gently."
"That was gentle. I removed the accusation."
June placed the wish paper on the blanket.
"Yes."
Bunny's mouth opened.
Cherry sat down.
"Since the arcade kiss?"
"After."
"Does XH know?"
"He knows enough."
Bunny lowered her discarded wishes.
"Do you love NS?"
June looked toward the wall separating their room from the corridor.
The answer required longer than the question allowed.
"I chose him," she said.
Cherry watched her carefully.
"That is not the same answer."
"It is the answer I have."
Bunny sat beside her.
"Are we supposed to keep it secret?"
"For now."
Cherry leaned back against the wall.
"Fine. If anyone asks, you were with us."
"That is usually true."
"Then lying will be efficient."
Bunny selected one of her rejected drafts.
"Can I add your relationship to my wish?"
"No."
"What if I only ask for emotional stability?"
"The balloon has a weight limit," Cherry said.
June laughed despite herself.
Then she placed the wish paper over her knee and began writing.
Across the corridor, two rooms now carried two different secrets.
The doors remained closed.
The sides no longer needed to pretend they had formed by accident.
NS wrote nothing while anyone could see him.
I returned to Room 306 with my blank paper inside the notebook.
JP's Diary
The balloon has one pocket for wishes.
This is poor planning. We have at least twelve incompatible futures.
Bunny wants enough things to require a second balloon.
Cherry wrote a joke first and destroyed it.
TZ is messaging two people and explaining himself to none.
XH and NS saved the frame together, then returned to opposite sides before anyone could celebrate.
I wanted the boys to become stupid Year One students again.
It worked for eleven minutes.
Maybe my wish should ask for twelve.
At 5:42, I sat on my bed and placed the wish paper over my notebook.
The room was empty.
Outside, the launch committee tested the burners in the field below the training house. Short bursts of flame rose beyond the courtyard wall.
The sound became something else.
Metal bending.
Glass falling inward.
An ambulance siren traveling toward me from very far away.
I looked down at the paper.
It remained blank.
The burner sounded again.
The room tilted.
Red light crossed the balcony doors.
Someone was speaking beyond them.
I could not understand the words.
Then the room became quiet.
I was standing beside the balcony.
The clock showed 5:53.
My pen remained uncapped on the bed.
Eleven minutes had disappeared.
The wish paper had been folded in half.
I opened it.
A single sentence waited inside.
It was written in my handwriting.
I read it once.
Then again.
The words felt less like something I wanted than something I had remembered wanting.
A knock sounded at the door.
"XH," Kitty called. "They are sealing the wish pocket."
I folded the paper before she entered.
"Did you write one?" she asked.
I looked at the eleven missing minutes on the clock.
"I think so."
That was not the answer she expected.
It was the only honest one I had.
We walked downstairs together without touching.
At the collection box, Kitty deposited her wish first.
I held mine above the narrow opening.
For a moment, I wanted to take it back to the room and compare the handwriting with something older.
The launch committee called for the final submissions.
I released the paper.
It disappeared into the box.
For the first time, I had written a wish.
I could not remember writing it.