Chapter 1 Prologue
August 2000, Summer
“Let’s date, Ji Yeon-seo.”
It felt like my heart had plummeted into a bottomless void.
So, this was the moment.
Beneath the lingering greenery of late August, a cool shadow rested on my white school uniform.
Instead of raising my chin to look at him, my eyes went to Lee Ho-jung’s group—the ones who had joked about wanting to link arms with him—and focused on his long, firm forearms. I brushed my wrist, remembering the fleeting chill when our skin had brushed.
“Aren’t you going to look?”
I slowly raised my gaze at the sound.
Sunlight gleamed off the neatly pressed shirt, catching first at the second button, then at the protruding Adam’s apple, until finally our eyes met.
Seeing his face made me tremble—a little, no, honestly, a lot.
It was supposed to be Cha Seo-kyung confessing, yet I felt like the one being confessed to. As always, his calm, indifferent expression tightened my chest.
I couldn’t help asking:
“Why should we date?”
We weren’t friends. We weren’t anything. Why would we have to become that?
“What do you want to do with me?”
Why was there a need to weigh down what had been an airy, weightless relationship between Cha Seo-kyung and me?
Was this excitement? Fear?
Thrill? Anxiety?
My emotions swayed, yet no answer came immediately.
As I bit my lower lip out of habit, a sudden, gentle touch brushed it. Cha Seo-kyung had smoothed it away, effortlessly, as if always meant to.
“Eat lunch with me every day.”
“…….”
“Walk home with me.”
His voice was like clear water frozen into ice—pure and clean. Whatever he said, it was crisp, unadorned, and precise. A low tone flowed evenly between his teeth.
“If you don’t understand the homework or class notes, ask me.”
“……”
“…If anyone’s mean to you or if something’s wrong, tell me.”
Sweat gathered on my hands; I clenched and released the edge of my skirt. What had I even asked? I forgot for a moment.
“I want to do these things with you. So, let’s date.”
“……”
It felt strange.
So, the things Cha Seo-kyung wanted to do with me—the reason he wanted to date me—were as if—
“Do you really know Seo-kyung? As well as I do?”
I recalled his confident lips, the sentences that seemed to poke and prod at something invisible.
No way… it couldn’t be.
“Cha Seo-kyung, why do you want to date me?”
I trusted that it wasn’t that kind of meaning.
Even his hesitation as he carefully chose his words, right in front of me, couldn’t possibly mean that. Or so I thought.
“Because I… because I like the way you—”
Hearing those words made my head spin, like free-falling without a harness.
The adjectives that followed me were countless: rude, obnoxious, irritating, crazy about guys, the type to toy with someone’s heart… despicable.
But Cha Seo-kyung chose the most unfamiliar, saddest, angriest label to attach to me—and still asked me out.
A cold shiver ran through me, out of season.
From afar, the noise of a group of students approaching the school gate drifted over.
Cha Seo-kyung, as if anxious to conclude the conversation, spoke again.
“So… let’s date.”
“……”
“I want to date you, Ji Yeon-seo.”
The crowd of Myungwon High students surged closer.
For a moment, my eyes left Cha Seo-kyung’s mesmerizing face and went to the approaching mass. Familiar faces lit up at seeing him from behind—he was someone “anyone could like.”
I, Ji Yeon-seo, lifted my head. Just as Grandma had said, with the formidable pride that would remain even with my bones once I was gone.
When I pressed my teeth together once, the words sprang out without hesitation, as if a spring had been released. My voice was firm and unwavering.
“No. I won’t date you.”
“…Why?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, swallowing surprise. Of course, he must have expected me to accept. Seeing him like that felt a little satisfying, a little sad. I fed my sharp words like a tense balloon frog trying to hide any trace of weakness.
“…Cha Seo-kyung, you go to school on the money my family pays.”
He looked at me with that cool, flawless expression, as always—any cracks in that armor impossible. My heart no longer fluttered. Instead, another emotion surged.
“I hate pity.”
The air felt suffocating.
It was still summer, so maybe it was the heat. Not because of Cha Seo-kyung’s impassive face, nor because of the knife I metaphorically held, slicing through past memories that crossed my mind like a mischievous trick over the last three months.
That lingering sentiment birthed the smallest flicker of attachment.
…Maybe, if you held onto me just once more.
The words fell lightly, almost like they were brushing past my teeth.
“Fine, then.”
I watched his broad back turn without regret. With those two simple words, he concluded his confession on an August afternoon. Lightly, as if nothing had happened, he walked away.
His long legs disappeared beneath the lingering greenery.
I was left alone on the path that had once felt dreamlike when we walked together. Trapped in a half-dream, I stood there, alone. The end of summer, intangible and fleeting, pressed painfully against my chest.
Side Story ▶▶
April 2000, Spring
The pencil lead snapped sharply, and the music ended. A faint mechanical click came through my earphones as the tape finished its loop.
Mechanically, I opened the Walkman, flipped the cassette, and prepared to play it again. With twenty minutes of lunch left, I had no intention of enduring the chaotic noise any longer.
Just as I was about to press play, a voice cut through:
“Then, between Choi Hyuk oppa and Cha Seo-kyung, who do you like?”
My finger hesitated on the silver button. Names paired with the popular dance group leader—it was a small shock.
“Hmm… I like Cha Seo-kyung.”
A burst of playful laughter erupted. A group of girls had gathered around Lee Ho-jung’s desk, chattering noisily.
“Hey, didn’t you say Hyuk oppa was the most handsome guy in the world?”
“Well, honestly, he’s a celebrity—he’s all made up and styled. Cha Seo-kyung… he just puts on his uniform, washes his face, and his face is already…”
The giggles rolled through the classroom like marbles spilling on the floor. The sound I hated most. Normally, I would’ve frowned and turned up my Walkman, but I silently endured with empty earphones in. Why?
Even over their laughter, another voice chimed in.
“He really is different. Other boys reek of sweat after gym during lunch, but Cha Seo-kyung smells like soap.”
“Hey, did you creepily sniff him or something?”
The classroom buzzed with teasing, curiosity, and excitement—heat of adolescent fascination, all tangled together.
“It’s true. He makes school actually enjoyable. God must have sent him for us, because we usually just get stuck with the squid prince or the Sa-o-jung types.”
That was Choi Sun-young, who had liked our school’s star, Kim Eun-ho, until last year. She always glared at me when I passed by.
“Cha Seo-kyung’s standards must be high, right? He wouldn’t settle for just anyone.”
Lee Ho-jung, popular and sunny, asked casually, clearly expecting a specific answer.
“But, face-wise, isn’t Ji Yeon-seo the one who suits our school the best?”
The thoughtless remark silenced the group for a moment.
The girls sitting diagonally across finally glanced my way.
I pretended not to hear, scribbling notes with my pen while wearing silent earphones.
“Honestly, she is pretty.”
Another brief silence, laden with envy.
Mocking words about my appearance flew, but I let them be. After all, who enjoys being chewed like gum?
By the time the chatter turned to whether I put anything on my lips, only ten minutes of lunch remained.
I reached for the play button, hoping to hear at least one more song. That’s when Lee Ho-jung’s voice turned sly.
“Do you know what a ‘si-at’ is?”
I paused, finger stiff on the button.
“Si-at?”
“No, not ‘ssi’—‘si’! Si-at!”
“What’s that?”
“You know, like a concubine. Something like a second wife.”
I didn’t need to see it to know Lee Ho-jung’s gaze had me caught like a trap.
“My grandmother said Ji Yeon-seo’s mom is a si-at. A concubine.”
“….”
I dragged the chair back, yanking my long earphone cord off, and glanced at Lee Ho-jung’s group.
Their sneakered toes came closer, and the girls averted their eyes, but Lee Ho-jung never flinched.
“Hey, Lee Ho-jung.”
“Why? What?”
Her eyes flinched, as if ready to scratch.
“If you’re going to know, know it properly. It’s not my birth mom—our stepmom is the si-at.”
“….”
“Our stepmom is a concubine, a concubine.”
I don’t attack girls, so I usually ignore petty teasing. But I can’t stand lies. I let the truth stand as is.
“And for the record, she’s the fourth si-at. Got it?”
If you’re going to chew on me like gum, know what you’re chewing properly.
“Lee Ho-jung, want to come over for the tteokbokki our stepmom makes?”
“Ha, crazy. You’ve lost it…”
I smiled faintly and turned on my heel. Behind me, someone grumbled in frustration. I didn’t care.
I’d get some milk at least—skipping lunch and wasting energy elsewhere left my stomach sour.
I walked down the sun-warmed corridor at a leisurely pace.
Ji Yeon-seo walking fast, flustered, or slowly—whatever it was, gossip always followed. So I walked as normally as possible, not wanting to attract extra attention.
Even in those drifting specks of dust, eyes pricked at me. Slight curiosity, sharpened with a hint of malice.
No matter. Nothing mattered.
I lifted my chin and stopped at the window by the stairs. Outside, the one-story school store with red bricks came into view.
I scanned the small groups gathered in front—not to find anyone, but to calculate if I could get the strawberry milk without bumping into anyone.
“…Cha Seo-kyung.”
I muttered his name without realizing it. Not for any reason—he just naturally stood out, even amidst chaotic, uneven peers.
Among the gawking boys, he stood quietly, drawing attention simply by existing. Smiling occasionally like a prince watching court jesters, fidgeting with the strawberry milk in his hand.
“!”
He lifted his head, and our eyes met. I stepped back instinctively, flustered.
Why had I avoided him? I hadn’t done anything wrong, nor was I staring intentionally.
Glancing again, his group had already walked ahead. I knew that back.
I knew Cha Seo-kyung.
He didn’t know me.
