1. Children of Seoryeong

Seoryeong was a place Yiseo’s family visited annually, like a winter ritual.

Her father was a member of a resort famous for its ski slopes near Seoryeong, and the family of three would visit her aunt in Seoryeong on their way to their first ski trip of the year.

After an endless stretch of snow-covered mountains, like an ink wash painting, a desolate rural town would appear—that was Seoryeong.

It wasn’t a special tourist destination, so there was nowhere decent to eat. A shabby Chinese restaurant at the entrance of Seoryeong was always their meeting spot. Pushing aside the bead curtain at the entrance, they would always find the aunt already seated, greeting them with a smile. She always wore a two-piece suit that was long out of fashion, with heavy makeup that contrasted sharply with it. Perhaps because of this, even when she smiled broadly, she looked older than her actual age.

Her father would order enough food to fill the table, even though he knew most of it would be left. Since course meals were rare, the restaurant owner warmly welcomed them, who came once a year. Throughout the meal, the aunt asked various questions.

“Yiseo, you’re still playing the piano, and you’re preparing to study abroad?”

“Yes.”

“Your sister showed me some photos of you playing the piano when you were little... but I’ve never actually heard you play.”

“Our Yiseo is preparing for a solo recital this holiday, so Auntie, you should come and listen.”

Her father smiled contentedly, looking at her.

Yiseo had decided early on that the piano, which she had learned since childhood, would be her lifelong pursuit. She had decent talent, enough to always place in competitions even if she didn’t always win first prize, and most importantly, it was because her father loved watching her play.

“A recital... you do those too? That’s amazing.”

“Dad, that’s embarrassing. It’s not worth coming all that way to see. It’s just to add a line to my resume, no big deal. Everyone else does it too.”

“And for that ‘no big deal,’ you had three outfits custom-made.”

“Dad!”

She glared, and he burst into laughter. Her aunt gazed wistfully at him gently stroking Yiseo’s head, a habitual gesture.

“Yiseo, the older you get, the more you resemble your mom. Your sister was so beautiful... just like you.”

“Ah... yes. Thank you.”

She chewed on the tough sweet and sour pork, forcing an awkward smile. It wasn’t because the compliment on her appearance, which she heard often wherever she went, made her uncomfortable. It was her aunt’s obvious gaze lingering on her face for quite some time. Was she searching for traces of her mother, who had passed away early?

Her mother and aunt had similar features, but with slight differences; unlike her mother, who was a beauty pageant queen, her aunt had an ordinary impression. She had heard that unlike her mother, who lived a life of luxury after marrying her businessman father, her aunt’s life was quite unremarkable.

But her mother had passed away early from a chronic illness, and seeing her aunt sitting across from her, smiling despite her tired complexion, made her think that life was truly unpredictable.

After lunch, her father, as always, handed a thick envelope to the aunt.

Yiseo and her younger brother, Yihwan, had already gone to sit in the car. It was their father’s hint for them to leave so that the aunt wouldn’t feel uncomfortable. Yiseo glanced at the aunt’s highly puffed hair repeatedly bowing towards the ground, then turned her attention to her phone.

“Dad, why aren’t we driving Auntie home?”

Her aunt, reflected in the rearview mirror, was still standing there, staring blankly at the car.

“Seoryeong is a very bad neighborhood.”

Her father firmly turned the steering wheel, saying there was nothing good to see there.

She asked what he meant several times, but he dismissed her, saying, “You two don’t need to know.” The silhouette of the aunt in the rearview mirror gradually became smaller and then disappeared.

Yiseo shrugged once and refocused on her phone. Like distant Seoryeong, her aunt was soon forgotten.

Her mind was quickly filled with thoughts of the snow quality at the newly opened ski resort, or the lesson schedule with the professor her father had painstakingly arranged. That’s how Seoryeong was—a place she passed through once a year.

And that morning, she fled onto a predawn bus, not for a study abroad trip. The word “Seoryeong” on the destination sign suddenly made her realize that life was truly unpredictable. She quickly shook her head. Pushing away the anxiety that it couldn’t possibly happen to her, she forced herself to sleep on the swaying bus.

________________________________________

The wheels of her suitcase bumped on the uneven pavement. Her right hand, pulling the handle, was numb. It was early winter, but the mountainous surroundings made the weather cool down quickly, contributing to the chill.

They had passed the Chinese restaurant where they met the aunt every year a long time ago. But finding the aunt’s house with just the address wasn’t easy. It would be simple to search on a map app. However, she hadn’t brought her phone, as her father had instructed her not to contact anyone or receive any calls.

“Ah, sis. When are we going to get there anyway?”

Yihwan whined irritably.

Four hours by express bus from Seoul, then two transfers to city buses—she was exhausted, so it must have been even harder for Yihwan, who was only in fourth grade. But she had no room to indulge his childish complaints.

“Complaining to me isn’t going to make us get there faster. I told you, we’re almost there.”

She snapped, looking around.

Last night, after her father’s persuasion that she should stay at her aunt’s house in Seoryeong for a while, and that she should go immediately, she boarded the bus to Seoryeong.

She sensed something was off when the housekeeper, who had worked for their family for over 10 years, awkwardly brought up her unpaid wages. She had just dismissed it, thinking her busy father had forgotten to transfer the money, but then the visits from subcontractors, who used to bring gifts every weekend, suddenly stopped. Instead, men with menacing expressions frequently came and went from their house.

Each time, her father earnestly told them not to come out of their rooms. However, when she, parched, had to come out to the kitchen, she encountered men who gave her unpleasant smiles.

She asked several times if there was a problem with the company, but each time, her father just repeated not to worry, saying it would be resolved soon. She believed him. There had been several crises with the company before, and each time, he had turned adversity into opportunity, achieving greater success.

Her father convinced her, with his usual confident expression, that he would pick them up soon if she just took good care of Yihwan in Seoryeong. Recalling him, she tried to suppress the surging anxiety and looked around.

There were no large buildings that could serve as landmarks. Old houses and single-story shops sparsely filled the desolate alleyways. She hadn’t noticed when they parted ways with the aunt at the entrance, but Seoryeong was much older and gloomier than she had expected.

“Excuse me, just a moment. Could I ask for directions...?”

She stopped speaking as she tried to call out to a passing woman.

The woman who turned around had unusually heavy makeup. Her dark, artificial eyelashes, like fly legs, blinked. Despite the quite cold weather, the woman wore a tube top and a skirt barely the size of her palm. Yiseo, speechless, could only stare, and the woman turned her back, her robe coat fluttering over her shoulder.

Her platform sandals, at least 15cm high, wobbled precariously as she walked into one of the shops lining the street. Each shop had a glass terrace that offered a clear view inside. Inside the terraces, women dressed as scantily as the one Yiseo had just encountered sat like mannequins. The signs listed unknown names like “Beauty,” “Sunflower,” “White House,” “Romance,” and so on.

A chill ran down her spine.

It wasn’t because of the cold. She had heard of such places... where women sold their bodies.

Her hand instinctively tightened on the suitcase handle. Suddenly, this street felt like a muddy quagmire overflowing with filth. It was then that the wheels of the suitcase, pulled by her hand, made a loud noise.

Drrrk. A door of one of the shops lining the alley opened. Her eyes met those of a man who was bending his head to exit, as the entrance was lower than his height.

A bad neighborhood.

The moment their eyes met, her father’s words, like a chill, pierced her mind.

The man was extremely tall, and his frighteningly large physique wasn’t hidden even by his thick jumper.

A dark complexion beneath a short haircut. His sharply defined features were handsomely masculine, but anyone seeing him for the first time would be overwhelmed by his dangerous aura before distinguishing beauty or ugliness. The sharp scar on his left cheek also contributed to this.

He stood leaning against the doorway and lit a cigarette he held in his mouth. His face became blurred by the smoke. Feeling an inexplicable pressure, Yiseo couldn’t take her eyes off him, like a small animal before a predator.

And the moment the cigarette smoke dispersed, their eyes met.

A cold gaze pierced her face like an ice pick. She quickly turned her head. She wanted to get out of this alley as quickly as possible. As she walked, almost running and lengthening her strides as much as possible, her suitcase bounced along behind her. Yihwan, sensing the unusual atmosphere, silently followed.

“Excuse me, sir. Could I just ask for directions...?”

The man walking toward them stopped at Yiseo’s call. He was an ordinary-looking middle-aged man, someone one might commonly encounter on the street. At least, he seemed the most normal in this alley.

“I’m sorry, but if you happen to know this address, could you tell me...?”

“Which shop are you from, kid?”

Her brow twitched at the incomprehensible question.

“I haven’t seen your face before. They said they were bringing a new girl from Moran, is that you?”

The man’s bleary gaze slithered over her face like a snake.

“What are you talking about...?”

“Wow~ So Choi Sajang really put some effort into it this time. I’ve been a regular in this alley for ten years, and I’ve never seen a girl like you. Let’s go, let’s go. I’ll properly open your business.”

“Sir, you’ve got the wrong person… Ugh!!”

A coarse, hairy hand grabbed her wrist. The suitcase she dropped rolled loudly on the ground. As she was suddenly dragged away by a stranger, Yihwan froze, only able to stammer, “Uh, uh.”

Thud! A sudden kick sent the man tumbling to the ground. It was the foot of the man she had just met eyes with. His cold eyes looked indifferently down at the groaning man. He asked, in a tone of extreme annoyance despite the violent kick,

“How much overdue debt have you run up to be doing this on the street?”

“Mu! Mujin...”

The man hastily put his hand into his inner coat pocket and pulled out a wad of 10,000 won bills, extending them to him.

“Oh, today I really came to pay off my debt, seriously! Look at this! I won big this time. See, I told you I’d hit it big eventually.”

“You’re banned from the gambling house, aren’t you?”

“I won it at the casino. I—I actually have pretty good luck at casinos.”

Despite being hit, the man grinned, trying to humor him. When Mujin frowned and gestured with his chin, the man clutched the wad of money and ran off into the alley.

Dangerous, this man is dangerous.

Yiseo clutched her brother’s arm. The man in front of her seemed more dangerous than the stranger who had tried to drag her away. From the recent situation, it seemed he wasn’t even a customer, but someone connected to this filthy alley.

Grabbing her brother, she ran without a plan. But before they could escape a few steps, her wrist was caught again by a large hand. This time, a cry of “Ack!” escaped her.

“I told you I have nothing to do with this place!!”

“I know.”

At his unexpectedly bland reply, she turned around to see him chuckling, looking down at her. His eyes, seen up close, were so large and black that the pupils seemed to cover the entire eye socket, feeling like an animal’s.

He lightly lifted her suitcase and placed it in front of her, saying,

“You should have taken bus number 4002, not 402.”

Not understanding what he meant, she bit her lip, and his head tilted slightly.

“The ski resort is bus 4002. Don’t go wandering around here without any fear.”

“No... that’s...”

It seemed he had mistaken her for a ski resort guest. Well, she wouldn’t have come to a place like this if it wasn’t for the ski resort...

“Do you... happen to know this address?”

When she held out the paper with her aunt’s address, he gave her a puzzled look.

“That’s Auntie Young-joo’s house, isn’t it?”

“Ah, yes... that’s right.”

She quickly swallowed the words about it being her aunt’s house. As she stared at him with still-guarded eyes, the corner of his lips subtly curled upwards.

“You look a bit better when you’re all fired up with defiance. You won’t get foolishly dragged away like before.”

“Hey! If you don’t know the way, I’ll just go!”

“Turn left at the end of this alley, and go through the blue gate you’ll see right away.”

It was right nearby. Why would her aunt live in a place like this? She suppressed a sense of dread and gave him a curt nod of thanks. She grabbed her suitcase and her brother with both hands and almost ran.

Yihwan whined that he was hurting, but she didn’t slow down until they reached the end of the alley. Just before exiting as he instructed, she glanced back.

Neon signs were flickering on, one by one, in the darkening street as the sun began to set. Red lights, like those in a butcher shop, began to vividly illuminate every corner.

He was still standing on that street.

Standing tall amidst the strangely flamboyant backdrop, he was looking at her. His silhouette, overlaid with lights full of lust, strangely appeared chilling. A shiver ran down her spine, and she quickly exited the alley.

“Mujin, go to room 3 right now. It seems that Park Sajang bastard is making a fuss about not using a condom. That walking STD of a guy. Crazy bastard.”

The madam of the shop grabbed Mujin’s arm and tugged lightly. Mujin, who was lighting a new cigarette, narrowed his brows.

“I told you not to take in trash like him in the first place.”

“Haa... Heesoo must have secretly taken him because she didn’t have any customers all day yesterday. Thinking it’d be okay with a condom. So just go. They said there’s a crackdown at the end of the month, and if he tests positive, it’ll be a headache.”

Mujin pressed his foot down on the cigarette he had dropped to the floor, as if spitting.

“But who was that girl just now? Which shop brought in a girl like that?”

“She’s not from this neighborhood.”

“Really? It’s a shame to just let her go. Guys go crazy for girls like that. She’s pretty, so they can’t take their eyes off her, but she seems cold, so their pride gets hurt. They always want to ‘break’ her, they say. It’s truly laughable.”

“Mind your own business. She’s still a kid.”

Tae Mujin pushed the woman who was showing interest in Yiseo back into the shop. When asked how he knew, a subtle curve appeared on Mujin’s lips.

He recognized her at a glance. The girl he’d briefly encountered was still the same, except for her slightly chubby cheeks and somewhat anxious eyes.

“Don’t hit him so hard that he can’t walk like last time. It was a pain to move him outside the shop.”

In response to the instruction to just scare him, Mujin rolled up his sleeve to his elbow instead of answering. The veins on his thick forearm bulged, creating defined contours.

The girl was just leaving the alley.

She’ll pass by again this time, too.

As her back disappeared, Mujin clenched his fist and strode into the shop.

The unexpected place where Yiseo reunited with the dangerous man from Seoryeong’s back alleys was her school.

Seosang High was the only high school in Seoryeong and the surrounding areas. It was an awkward time for a transfer student—during the second semester of the third year. In just a few months, winter break would begin. Her plan to simply graduate, since she was preparing to study abroad anyway, was quickly falling apart.

On her first day of transfer, Yiseo had to go to school wearing her old school uniform, not the Seosang High uniform.

Her aunt had taken all the cash and valuable possessions she had. No, “stolen” would be the more accurate word. She should have turned back the moment she saw her aunt’s house.

The exterior walls were covered in deep scratches, and the slate roof was faded.

At first glance, it was hard to believe someone lived there. The inside was similar to the outside. A long, narrow kitchen and two rooms. One was the aunt’s room, and the other door opened for Yiseo and Yihwan.

“This room was originally for rent, but I quickly emptied it when my nieces and nephews were coming,” the aunt had said, making a show of it. The wide-open room assaulted Yiseo’s senses, her nose reacting before her eyes. A pungent smell of mold mixed with cigarette smoke stung her nostrils. The yellowed wallpaper, stained with nicotine, and the windows plastered with blue tape. Two microfiber blankets, hastily folded in the corner, seemed too large to even fully spread out in the small room.

So, houses like this actually exist.

That thought, strangely, came to mind before the reality that this was the room she would be staying in.

“But... did your father say anything?” the aunt’s gentle voice asked, pulling her back to reality with a start.

“Dad said he’s sorry for suddenly imposing... But! He said he’d come pick us up soon. I’ll only trouble you until then. I’m sorry, Auntie.”

“I know, I know. Your brother-in-law is capable, so he’ll surely handle things well. Don’t you two worry too much and just make yourselves at home, okay?”

The aunt rubbed her hands together and added, “Did he say anything else besides that?” Only then did Yiseo remember—the white envelope Dad always handed her.

She held out the envelope her father had prepared for her. The aunt’s hand swiftly snatched it, and she immediately checked the amount in front of them. After counting all the money, a small sigh escaped her lips. A slight resentment surged within Yiseo at her reaction. When she had checked it on the bus, it had by no means been a small amount.

“Is that all your luggage?”

“Pardon? Yes…”

“Open it.”

“…Now?”

“You need to unpack, don’t you? Open it.”

Pressed by her aunt’s unexpected assertiveness, Yiseo instinctively entered the suitcase’s password. As soon as the lid opened, her aunt swiftly rummaged through the contents. The watches her father had hastily packed, her mother’s heirloom jewelry, and bundles of cash he had separately put in for her—all of it disappeared before she could react.

Only then did it hit her. She should have kept the cash on her. But before she could stop her aunt, everything was instantly sucked into the pockets of the padded vest the older woman was wearing.

“Auntie! Those are my things—why are you doing that?!”

“Yiseo~ Don’t misunderstand. I’m just holding onto them for a bit. I’ll give them back to you as soon as your brother-in-law comes.”

“Even so!”

“Kids with sticky fingers are common in this neighborhood, so you can’t just leave things lying around. If you happen to lose them, I’d be in trouble too.”

Then, telling her to rest quickly, her aunt returned to her room without giving her a chance to speak further. The completely changed attitude left Yiseo bewildered, and at the same time, a slow shiver crept up her spine. Had she always been like this…?

A chill permeated the room, as the boiler wasn’t on.

“Sis… are we living here now?” Yihwan asked with anxious eyes.

She shouldn’t have come to Seoryeong. But she didn’t have the confidence to wander from lodging to lodging as a minor with her brother. Most importantly, she hadn’t brought her phone, so she had to receive her dad’s calls through her aunt.

“Just for a little while, a very little while. Dad will come pick us up soon, so bear with it for a bit.”

She said the words she had been repeating to herself like a charm to Yihwan as well.

As the school day approached, she repeatedly asked her aunt for money to buy a school uniform, but all she got in return were scoldings asking why she needed to buy one when she’d be graduating soon anyway. She received just enough money for one day’s lunch and bus fare, and reluctantly put on a white shirt over her old school uniform skirt, topping it with a neat black coat. She thought this would create a roughly decent outfit.

However, what she overlooked was that the baby cashmere coat she wore was one that a certain celebrity had worn, making it a hot topic. Although she could only pack one suitcase’s worth of items, most of what she wore and used were luxury brands.

She didn’t particularly think of them as luxury items. She had naturally used good quality and pretty designs since she was young.

So, on the first day of school, seeing the gazes of her classmates sweeping over her, she realized her mistake. Half rejection, half curiosity for the outsider.

She welcomed neither emotion.

She planned to just get by until her dad came to pick her up. And above all… the kids here felt very different from her.

The arts middle and high school she had attended was an all-girls school, and everyone had set their career paths early, so their goals were clear. The atmosphere was focused on college entrance exams and competitions; interest in the opposite sex was limited to celebrities or trending topics, and very few girls had boyfriends.

So, during breaks, the sight of what seemed to be the “popular crowd” of girls casually sitting on boys’ laps or playfully clinging to them was quite a shock to her. Half of the words coming out of those boys’ mouths were curses, and even sitting far away, she could smell cigarettes, and they constantly spat on the classroom floor. Did they really want to be like that with those kinds of kids? Then again… it seemed the girls’ standards weren’t much different either.

Among them, a few gentle-looking kids asked her to eat lunch with them. So, she bought some bread with the little money her aunt gave her and returned to the classroom.

Bibimbap was being actively prepared on desks pushed together. She wondered where they got such a large stainless steel bowl, into which everyone’s brought rice and side dishes were being mixed together.

“If you mix it all like this, it tastes delicious even without many side dishes.”

As one of them said that, the children began vigorously stirring the giant bibimbap with their spoons.

A girl with a face full of freckles smiled brightly and put a spoon, red with gochujang, into her mouth. After a slurp, the spoon became white again, but small bits of gochujang still clung to it. That spoon was then dipped back into the giant bibimbap.

This is a bit… much, she thought.

At her house, even when the family ate together, the helper would individually portion out soup and side dishes, and tongs were provided for each dish so everyone could serve themselves.

“Thanks, but… I’m okay. I bought bread.”

“Eat this with us too. There’s plenty, it’s fine.”

“Try it, it’s delicious.”

She took a spoonful from the plastic spoon the girl insisted on offering, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat more. She declined, saying she’d had a big breakfast and was fine, then returned to her seat. After refusing two or three times, no one offered to eat with her again.

Instead, she asked her homeroom teacher if she could use the music room during lunch breaks. The teacher tilted her head, saying Yiseo was the first music major hopeful at this school, but still asked the music teacher to make a copy of the key.

The music room was in the old building, separate from the new building where the classrooms were. Opening the door with the key and stepping into the empty music room, she felt isolated, like an island. She quite liked that feeling.

Next to the podium, she saw an old, shiny black upright piano. She sat down in front of it and quickly pressed the keys from one end to the other. Her brow furrowed at the stiff touch.

A deep sigh escaped her. The worst sound quality.

It was no comparison to the concert-grand Steinway her dad had immediately bought when she decided to major in piano, but still… She opened the lid and, sure enough, it was covered in a thick layer of dust, let alone being tuned.

This must be the best they have here. She chuckled softly and placed her hands on the keyboard.

The first piece, as always, was Moszkowski’s Etude for warm-up. It was a cheerful piece, but from the poor-condition piano, a somewhat rough and stiff tone emerged.

Nevertheless, as the familiar sounds she had heard all her life enveloped her ears, the anxiety she had carried since coming to Seoryeong gradually receded.

She focused on her playing, believing that if she endured a little longer, her dad would come pick her up, and once she returned to her original path, this time would become just an experience to tell.

________________________________________

“You live in Seoryeong, right?”

Her brow involuntarily furrowed when Oh Jang-heon spoke to her.

Oh Jang-heon was a boy she immediately categorized as part of the delinquent group. On the first day of her transfer, he had casually tapped her cheek with the back of his hand, asking if she was wearing too much makeup—even though she had no makeup on.

Boys had always shown interest in her, but this kind of rude behavior was new.

After she slapped his disrespectful hand away with a sharp thwack, Oh Jang-heon hadn’t approached her again. But today, he sat behind her, snickering as he spoke.

“What business is it of yours where I live?”

“You walk around with your head held so high, I thought you were someone special. What? Seo-ryeong~?”

Oh Jang-heon drew out the name with a nasal sneer, and she bit her lower lip.

Even though it was a temporary stay, her aunt’s living conditions were the worst.

Yiseo’s aunt, who claimed to run a food business, actually sold simple meals and drinks to nearby brothels and gambling dens, acted as a pawnshop broker, and even lent small amounts of money for daily interest. She literally did anything that brought in money. Yet, her household situation didn’t seem to improve at all.

“I’m just staying there for a bit because my aunt’s house is nearby.”

“Yeah, your aunt barely makes a living selling snacks to the girls who sell their bodies, right?”

Yiseo’s hands, which were organizing her sheet music, paused. How did he know? This was clearly an act of provocation, said with full awareness.

“…It’s a temporary stay. I’m only staying while I prepare for studying abroad, so what does it matter to you?”

“Preparing to study abroad in Seoryeong? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

This time, a girl sitting behind her suddenly flipped up the back collar of her coat. She checked the label, then snorted with laughter as if spitting.

“Isn’t this a fake? I thought you were just too embarrassed to wear our school uniform. What, Yoon Yiseo, you’ve been plastered with fakes?”

“Don’t touch me!”

“Hey, no matter how embarrassing it is, a fake is more embarrassing than our school uniform. Or maybe it’s that— that thing.”

Oh Jang-heon said, loudly hitting his right fist into his left palm.

“Or maybe you earned it by selling your body.”

Laughter erupted from all directions. Yiseo clenched her jaw tight. It was ridiculous. Who was laughing at whom right now?

She turned to face Oh Jang-heon, who was still cackling. Suppressing her anger, she instead put on a full smile and said,

“You must think it’s the kind of thing one would sell their body to buy? But to me, it’s not. What’s so special about this coat anyway?”

At her words, the laughter that filled the classroom instantly ceased.

Ignoring Oh Jang-heon’s now reddening face, Yiseo stood up. She wanted nothing more to do with them and tried to leave the classroom, but a strong hand grabbed her shoulder. It pressed down hard—vertically.

“I told you not to touch me!”

“Shit, Yoon Yiseo. What did you just say?”

She had retorted bravely with words, but she was no match for physical force. Red veins stood out in Oh Jang-heon’s eyes as he glared at her. Only then did unease settle in her chest. Being threatened—being physically restrained—was something she couldn’t have imagined before coming to Seoryeong.

“Ah…!”

As Oh Jang-heon’s fingers dug into her shoulder, a moan escaped her involuntarily. Perhaps excited by the sound, Oh Jang-heon’s eyes glinted. Jeers erupted from the surroundings, urging him to “go easy.”

Drrrk. The classroom door opened, and all noise abruptly ceased, as if a power outage had occurred.

After a long pause, someone slowly entered the classroom—someone who had only shown up at school in the afternoons.

It was Tae Mujin. The boy. The man who had been her first impression of Seoryeong.

As if a switch had been flipped, the entire class went still, silent, and tense. Like herbivores sensing a predator, they became extremely wary of him.

Tae Mujin approached Oh Jang-heon with his characteristic languid gait.

“Mujin… you, you’re here?”

The hand pressing down on Yiseo’s shoulder quickly recoiled.

Oh Jang-heon greeted Mujin with a servile smirk. He wasn’t short, but as Mujin—who was over 190 cm tall—approached, his head tilted further and further back.

Just before his chest touched Mujin’s, Tae Mujin stopped short, and Oh Jang-heon’s legs seemed to give out, causing him to plop onto a chair. In contrast, Tae Mujin’s face, looking down at him, remained completely expressionless.

“Want to sit here? I’ll go to another seat right away—”

Before he could finish, Tae Mujin casually hooked his instep on the leg of the chair.

It seemed like a very light kick, but the chair—with Oh Jang-heon still on it—slid smoothly across the classroom like an ice rink and crashed loudly against the wall. A groan escaped from Oh Jang-heon, who tumbled to the floor along with the chair.

The already quiet classroom air grew heavier, pressing down like lead.

“Chair.”

A low voice uttered only that single word.

Oh Jang-heon, groaning, scrambled to pick up the chair and put it back in its place.

Now, the owner of the seat behind her had changed.

It was satisfying to see Oh Jang-heon, who had used his strength to overpower her, now being sent sprawling by an even greater force. However, another kind of pressure weighed on her shoulders.

When she first encountered Tae Mujin in the classroom, she couldn’t believe her eyes.

She had never imagined he would be a student—let alone her age.

His chiseled features, like those of a plaster statue, and his chilling eyes that so easily intimidated others were not those of a peer.

Above all, he was the student who looked the most unfitting in a school uniform in the world.

The uniform, symbolizing control, had no effect on Tae Mujin’s body. This remained true even though his tie knot was quite neat—unlike the so-called “delinquent” crowd. When the plain navy tie was knotted beneath Tae Mujin’s prominent Adam’s apple, its original purpose of symbolizing masculine authority finally felt real.

Perhaps because of this, on the days Tae Mujin came to school, the boys who usually kept their ties in their pockets would wear them properly around their necks.

Tae Mujin isn’t just playing around at school.

In the early days of her transfer, some kids who talked to her would share gossip about Tae Mujin.

“He’s famous among the kids. Here, the gambling rings among students are pretty big. But Tae Mujin manages them. He’s already caught the eye of the Seowon gang and is probably set to join them right after graduation.”

“They say Tae Mujin even manages the gambling dens and Seoryeong Village now. Oh, Yiseo, you wouldn’t know about that, right? There’s a famous red-light district here called Seoryeong Village.”

“But it seems Tae Mujin is actually going to graduate? I thought he’d dropped out, but he’s started coming back recently.”

Tae Mujin’s return to school, unfortunately, coincided with her transfer.

Feeling as if someone was watching her, she turned her head.

Was it her imagination?

Tae Mujin was listening to Kwon Gi-seon, who always came to greet him promptly when he arrived at school. Compared to Tae Mujin, Gi-seon was smaller in stature but had tattoos on the back of his hand and already exuded a menacing, gangster-like aura. There were many boys with such an aura at Seosang High—and they all behaved more respectfully in front of Tae Mujin than they ever did toward the teachers.

Suddenly, Tae Mujin’s long eyelids lifted. Just before their black pupils could meet, Yiseo quickly turned her head back to its original position. She gathered her sheet music and wallet and stood up, scoffing at her own back, which had tensed with nervousness. Even though she had encountered him on her first day in Seoryeong, Tae Mujin hadn’t acknowledged knowing her. Or perhaps, he truly didn’t remember a mere transfer student who would soon graduate.

The same was true for her. After all, he was just the neighborhood boss in this unremarkable town, wasn’t he? Still, since that neighborhood boss had come to school today, the petty thugs would likely quiet down. Considering that one small blessing, she left the classroom.

________________________________________

*

“Auntie, has Dad contacted you?”

Yiseo’s voice sharpened.

She couldn’t hide her impatience. More than a month had passed, and there had been no contact from her father. Ever since the kids found out she lived in Seoryeong, their bullying had become more intense—overtly so. That day, her sheet music was found ripped to shreds inside her desk drawer. Some kids would deliberately bump into her in the hallway. Each time, she would go straight to the staff room and report it to her homeroom teacher, but all she received in return was a weak promise to give the students a warning.

“Yiseo, that’s what I should be asking! How can he leave his kids and not contact us even once? This is unacceptable. Are you perhaps secretly in contact with your dad without my knowledge?”

“No! If I were...”

She swallowed the rest of the sentence—Would I still be in this crappy house?

Her aunt exhaled sharply and pointed toward the front door.

“You, go to the shop down the street for a bit.”

“Pardon? What shop, all of a sudden?”

“You know, the shops on the main street where the unnies sit. Go to ‘White House’ and ‘Beauty,’ collect the dishes, and get the money for the food.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Me! How can I go there?!”

“Why can’t you go? I just asked you to bring back some dishes. Who said anything about you working there?”

“Auntie!!”

“I’ve been watching you, Yiseo. Your brother-in-law spoiled you too much. You’re like a madam, always expecting to receive without lifting a finger.”

Yiseo was dumbfounded. Her aunt had taken all her jewelry and cash, then only gave her enough money for bus fare and one piece of bread for lunch each day. At home, they often ate ramen. At least Yihwan had school lunch—that was a relief.

A brief struggle followed, but Yiseo couldn’t win against her aunt, who had endured all kinds of hardships. Under the threat of receiving no pocket money the next day if she refused, Yiseo reluctantly left the house.

________________________________________

Yiseo pulled the hood of her padded jacket low over her head. Seoryeong, situated at the foot of a mountain, had biting cold air—but the hood’s true purpose was to hide her face.

Hesitantly, she glanced inside the glass terrace. Fortunately, no customers were visible—only women sitting in a row on bar stools. Carefully, she pushed open the glass door.

“Who is it?”

“…I came to collect the dishes.”

The woman in the shop scanned her up and down with narrowed eyes. Thick foundation had been applied over a bruise on her temple. Feeling as though she had seen something she shouldn’t have, Yiseo quickly lowered her gaze to the floor.

“You must be Auntie Young-joo’s niece.”

The woman twisted the corner of her lips upward and tilted her head toward the back door. Following the gesture, Yiseo opened it. After a moment of hesitation, she stepped inside.

A narrow corridor branched out into a maze-like network of passages.

Doors lined both sides of the hallway, and stainless steel trays were scattered throughout, ready to be collected. On the trays, empty dishes were haphazardly mixed with scraps of leftover food.

She sighed and crouched in front of one tray. As she stacked and organized the dishes, a strange sound reached her ears from inside one of the rooms. Faint, but wet and rhythmic…

Her hands, which had been sorting the dishes, stopped at the unfamiliar sound.

A woman’s faint, pained moans, and the dull thud of flesh striking flesh.

A moment later, she understood the meaning of the noises.

Dirty. Dirty. Dirty.

Shuddering, she abruptly grabbed a stainless steel tray. In her eagerness to escape the filthy den, she attempted to pick up several trays at once. However, her rushed movements upset her balance, and the trays tilted—spilling their entire contents with a clatter.

“Ah…”

The hallway was now a mess of empty dishes and food waste.

She fumbled with her hands, starting to pick up the scraps. She gathered fish bones and bits of bean sprout—spat from mouths—from bowls still plastered with dried rice grains. Nausea began to rise from her queasy stomach.

Perhaps… her aunt was right.

Her hands—hands her father had once told her to use for nothing but playing the piano—were now slick with filth.

Did something happen?

Dad wouldn’t neglect me and my brother like this… would he?

She swallowed the choking cry along with the nausea.

A stainless steel dish rolled down the hallway and struck someone’s foot. The dish, which had been spinning in place, stopped with a shudder under the pressure of a large foot.

The owner of the foot was so tall that she had to crane her neck just to see his face.

Her throat tightened as her gaze locked with his dark eyes.

“What is it, you?”

Tae Mujin tilted his head sideways, looking down at her. No—more accurately—a little lower.

He was staring at her hands, now stained with filth.

Heat surged through her like a boiling wave. She couldn’t tell whether shame or fear held the greater share of that heat.

“…I just came to get the dishes for my aunt.”

She feigned nonchalance, keeping her tone as flat as possible.

There was no reason for her to feel ashamed or afraid in front of Tae Mujin. If anything, the one who should truly feel shame was the man standing before her—a student who acted like a pimp. Of course, Tae Mujin showed no signs of carrying that weight.

As Yiseo reached for the dishes again, her padded hood was suddenly seized by a firm grip. She was yanked upright like a rabbit grabbed by the scruff of its neck. The trays clattered to the floor once more, scattering loudly.

“Ah! What are you doing? I need to take the dishes!”

“Get out.”

With that curt command, Tae Mujin dragged her out through the back of the shop, releasing her in the alley behind the building. As Yiseo glared at him, he lit the cigarette already hanging from his lips, then jerked his chin toward a faucet installed in the corner.

“Wash up quickly and leave. Don’t linger around the shop.”

…

It had looked like he was about to throw her out just a second ago.

It was difficult to understand Tae Mujin’s intentions. His expressionless face gave nothing away, and his indifferent air made it seem like he simply didn’t care about anyone or anything. Even his smallest gestures were unreadable, unsettling her. That was probably why the students at school reacted so skittishly around him.

Yiseo didn’t want to be like them. Still, she walked over to the faucet. Instead of touching the dirty surface directly, she nudged the handle with the back of her hand. It didn’t move—likely frozen shut.

“Hah.” Tae Mujin let out a short breath and turned the faucet himself with a squeak. Surprisingly, warm water came pouring out.

She began to scrub her hands, but no matter how much she rubbed, the red kimchi soup stains wouldn’t come off completely.

“I didn’t want to come here either,” she finally muttered, turning off the faucet and shaking the water from her fingers.

When Tae Mujin turned his body toward her, she flinched instinctively. But his eyes, as they met hers, curved slightly with amusement.

“I know. It’s written all over your face.”

“What?”

“That you hate even looking at this cesspool. Oh wait—was it a cockroach den?”

“When did I ever say that? Don’t just assume things about me.”

She retorted, but his words hit the mark. Her gut twisted.

“That’s why people complain. That it makes them feel dirty when you keep hovering around the shop.”

“…I didn’t even look at the shop.”

“Yeah, with that face like, ‘Ugh, my eyes are gonna rot.’ Just like now.”

Yiseo stared at his subtly raised lips, momentarily speechless—because he was right. She had hated even looking at it.

The women bathed in red light, barely dressed, sitting like mannequins in a butcher shop. The men walking past, casually browsing them like merchandise. It was only then she realized the meaning behind the disapproving look from the woman inside the shop. Still, she didn’t think the fault was hers.

Tae Mujin made a small click with his tongue. The smoke from his cigarette drifted lazily through the air.

“Are you not even aware of it? You’re the same way at school. That’s why the other kids won’t leave you alone.”

“Are you saying it’s my fault? I just kept to myself.”

“Usually, that’s called ignoring.”

“No. The usual I know calls it inferiority complex.”

Tae Mujin laughed—a loud, genuine sound.

Yiseo stood in stunned silence. His face, always so sharp and unyielding, looked entirely different when he laughed.

“Those two things come as a set. They go well together.”

He flicked the remainder of his cigarette to the ground, crushed it under his toe, then added,

“And I don’t know what things were like before, but you’re in no position to be looking down on anyone now.”

“…What?”

His gaze dropped to her feet. Following it, she looked down—and immediately flushed. Her sneakers and the hem of her pants were splattered with food waste.

“I’m just helping because Auntie’s having a hard time! Why are you laughing at that?!”

“See? They go well together.”

Tae Mujin raised his long index finger and pointed first at Yiseo, then back at himself. The smirk on his lips said the rest.

He was ignoring her—and she, stung by inferiority, had blurted out a lie about helping her aunt. The moment she realized it, that sense of inferiority burned into shame.

And shame, in turn, fed into something else—hostility. That prickling sense of resistance, the same that stirred when her classmates bullied her, now turned against Tae Mujin.

Tae Mujin’s smirk faded. His gaze cooled, and he spoke again.

“And what I’m talking about has nothing to do with carrying or dropping trays. No matter how many times you run to the staff room, the teachers won’t shield you.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!”

“For starters, wear your school uniform properly. There’s no benefit to standing out more around here.”

“…”

She couldn’t say it—that she had no money to buy one. She bit her lip hard.

Tae Mujin’s brows lifted slightly. His lips parted, as if to ask something, but he closed them again and pressed them into a line.

Instead of speaking, he began walking toward her—slow, heavy steps. His tall figure cast a looming shadow as it neared. Reflexively, Yiseo’s spine straightened and recoiled all at once.

She had seen him intimidate others like this before, yet even knowing that, she couldn’t suppress the tension.

“Even if a customer had dragged you out of the hallway earlier, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything.”

He stepped closer. Her mouth dried out under the weight of his presence. A bitter taste spread across her tongue.

Her body wanted to retreat—but her defiance pushed back just as hard.

At last, she snapped.

“Then what are you? At best, you’re just someone who pushes kids around with brute force.”

Tae Mujin’s long eyes curved sharply. But it didn’t look like a smile.

For the first time, Yiseo realized how utterly out of her depth she was.

She didn’t want to be crushed—by Tae Mujin, or by anyone. Not like the women in the shop, sitting motionless under red lights, or her classmates who barely dared to breathe when he walked by. If she gave in now, it would be like admitting she was no different. Like accepting that this was her new life. Like Seoryeong had become her reality.

And the thought that she might never return to how things used to be—that scared her more than anything else.

That fear was what made her rebel.

“Don’t fool around. You look like you’re about to collapse.”

Tae Mujin’s large hand reached toward her face. Yiseo froze. Was he going to hit her?

Her eyes squeezed shut in instinct.

But when she dared to open them again, the back of Tae Mujin’s hand merely touched the underside of her chin, gently tilting it upward. Immediately, she grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand away—but it didn’t move.

“Go ahead and resist to the end out of spite. You’re the one who’ll break.”

Even though his grip was light, his hand was large enough to make her feel as if her throat were being squeezed.

His thumb brushed down along the side of her neck, slowly—deliberately—like a predator savoring its prey before devouring it. A reflexive cough escaped her lips.

At once, Tae Mujin’s hand loosened. Yiseo swatted it away with force and turned, coughing into the back of her hand.

“Hey, you son of a bitch! Why is the service so crappy? Tell another girl to come out!!”

A man’s voice rang out from inside the shop, loud and aggressive. Then came a woman’s scream—shrill, unmistakably distressed.

Tae Mujin’s brows furrowed. He glanced at Yiseo, who had gone pale and stiff at the sound, then grabbed her hood and pushed her through the rusted iron door with a shove more abrupt than harsh.

“Don’t ever come near this shop again.”

The door slammed behind her with a loud bang, and his cool voice echoed in her mind like the final strike of a gavel.

________________________________________

Yiseo ran home in a daze, barely aware of her surroundings. She locked herself in her room, curling inward as her heart thumped out of rhythm. It wouldn’t calm down. That woman’s scream had clawed under her skin. She couldn’t even think of going back to collect the dishes.

“Yiseo! Hey, Yoon Yiseo!”

Her aunt’s voice broke through the door. Moments later, she barged in, irritation painted across her face.

Yiseo pressed her hand against the space between her ribs, where the panic still lingered. She had braced herself for an argument—had even planned to shout that she’d never step foot in a place like that again.

“Auntie! I—I’m never going to that kind of place again, so please don’t ask me to—”

But her aunt didn’t seem interested in fighting. Instead, she asked something completely unexpected.

“Who did you meet at the shop just now?”

“…Why do you ask?”

“Suddenly, the girls from the shop brought the dishes back. I’ve been asking them for weeks to do that and they always ignored me.”

“…Really?”

“And this—” Her aunt tossed a paper bag onto the floor, “I got this after begging. The girl at the shop said her younger sister graduated last year and still had it lying around.”

Inside the bag was a Seosang High uniform. The skirt’s seat was worn shiny with use, but it looked like it would fit.

First, wear your school uniform properly. There’s no good in standing out more here, is there?

That voice echoed again in her ears, along with the image of those tightly closed lips. How did he even know?

Heat crept up her face, fire blooming in the cold room.

“Then… I don’t have to go anymore, right?”

“They said not to send you back. Said it’d be a real headache if a minor was caught going in and out. From now on, the girls’ll return the trays.”

Her aunt scoffed as she turned to leave, muttering, “Guess you’re just like your mother—no use when it comes to work.”

Yiseo didn’t reply. She only glared at the door her aunt exited through.

Even if a customer had dragged you away, you’re in no position to escape.

If Tae Mujin knew, then her aunt surely knew, too.

It all clicked into place. Her aunt’s disgust toward her wasn’t about Yiseo personally—it was because she was her mother’s daughter. This woman was projecting years of unresolved bitterness onto a teenager.

Her head throbbed with the suffocating urge to escape Seoryeong.

When she finally turned away, her gaze landed on the mirror in the corner of the room. Its surface was cracked and smeared with stubborn handprints.

In it, a pale girl stared back. Smudges of grime still clung to her neck and jaw.

A dry laugh escaped her lips. So this is what I’ve become since coming to Seoryeong.

She rubbed at the stains on her skin. As her fingers passed the area where that hand had touched earlier, a sharp heat rose to her cheeks.

She couldn’t understand Tae Mujin. Not at all.

________________________________________

He didn’t come to school for an entire week.

Yiseo, relieved, quietly resumed her routine. She now wore the secondhand uniform—the one Tae Mujin had presumably gotten for her. She thought that would be enough to stop the teasing.

She was wrong.

Now that she looked just like everyone else, the comparisons only intensified. With the uniform stripping away the excuse that she stood out, her classmates turned on her with even more persistence—both boys and girls, though in different ways.

The bullying only grew more overt.

And then came the day she saw them—the familiar faces reflected in the glass of the bus window.

Yiseo had always been the only Seosang High student who took this route to Seoryeong. But now, three boys in Seosang uniforms sat at the back. One of them grinned—Oh Jang-heon. His mouth curved in that familiar, sickening way.

Next to him were two others from her class.

A chill climbed her spine.

They couldn’t be following me... could they?

If she got off at her usual stop, near home—and they followed…

Seoryeong had poor streetlights. Fewer people. Fewer eyes.

As the bus pulled into an intermediate stop—somewhere between school and her house—she gripped the strap of her bag tightly. Still hesitating.

Then came the hiss of the pneumatic door opening.

A signal.

She bolted down the rear steps and jumped off the bus.

Once on the ground, she quickly scanned the area. By sheer luck, another bus had pulled in behind the one she just left. Without hesitating, she ran toward it and boarded.

“Transfer.”

The moment the reader beeped, the bus doors slammed shut. The sharp thunk echoed like a gunshot.

Only then did she release the breath she’d been holding. She stumbled toward the back and sank into the corner seat.

Her forehead was slick with cold sweat.

She reached up to wipe it away.

Thump! Thump-thump! Thump!!

Her shoulders jerked at the sudden pounding on the bus window beside her.

Oh Jang-heon walked alongside the slowly moving bus, slamming his palms against the window. The boys who had been with him earlier followed suit, pointing and laughing. Through the smudged glass, Yiseo saw their mouths moving in unison, silently calling out her name—”Yoon Yiseo.” Again and again.

“Those disrespectful bastards!”

The bus driver cursed under his breath and stepped harder on the accelerator.

Their laughter faded into the distance, disappearing beyond the streaks of grime and fingerprints on the window. Outside, the scenery shifted to a quiet rural sprawl, passing in a blur. A new town, unfamiliar landmarks, but none of it felt grounding. A weight she had never known before clung to her limbs and numbed her thoughts. The bus kept moving, but her body felt paralyzed.

________________________________________

Dusk settled. Her calves and ankles, exposed to the cold, had long since gone numb.

Yiseo checked her wristwatch—the one thing she’d managed to keep hidden from her aunt. The hands pointed to 9 p.m.

Three hours had passed since she’d jumped off the bus.

She hadn’t realized how far it had taken her—curled up and afraid to move, thinking the boys might still be following. When she finally disembarked, she found herself in a completely unfamiliar neighborhood. And she had no money left for the return trip.

Her steps halted.

White flakes twirled under the dull glow of the streetlights. The season’s first snow.

She stared at it, unmoving, until her nose stung.

“Yoon Yiseo.”

The low voice cut through the night just as the hum of an engine died.

So he knew her name after all.

A black motorcycle stood parked nearby—just like its owner. Behind the helmet’s dark shield, Tae Mujin’s eyes stared her down, narrowed in clear irritation.

“What is it now?” she muttered, voice dry.

This wasn’t the shop he’d warned her about. Not the classroom, where everyone shrank in his presence. Just a street. Just her.

But still, his gaze, cold and hard, made her feel like an intruder trespassing on dangerous ground. Her eyes prickled.

“…Those boys were following me,” she said, her voice cracking. “So I couldn’t get off in Seoryeong.”

Tae Mujin didn’t reply.

The helmet tilted slightly to one side. His silence, like his expression, was unreadable in the dim light. Just once—just this once—she hoped for a favor, even if it was just a warning disguised as kindness.

Her throat tightened.

She spoke his name for the first time. “Tae Mujin… Give me a ride home.”

To her surprise, it was easier to say that than ask for bus fare.

________________________________________

The motorcycle came to a stop in front of her aunt’s house.

Yiseo stepped off, removing the helmet with trembling hands. Her hair clung to her cheeks in messy strands, tangled from the wind. Tae Mujin brushed snow off his shoulders without a word.

“Thanks… I’ll pay you back when my dad comes to pick me up.”

She offered the few coins she had—barely enough for bus fare—but still felt compelled to give something back. Owing someone like Tae Mujin left her feeling exposed.

He lit a cigarette and let out a faint scoff, clearly amused. He didn’t mock her, though. He simply reached down and plucked a single coin from her palm.

“What about tomorrow?”

“…Tomorrow?”

“I’m not going to school. I’ve got things to do.”

Only then did her face tighten.

He never paid much attention to her in class, but his presence alone had the power to freeze the entire room into uneasy silence. Without him, the atmosphere changed—and not for the better.

“…I’ll tell the teacher I need to leave early.”

“That might work once. What if they follow you again?”

“I’m graduating soon. If I can just hold out—”

“They got on the bus after you,” he cut in. “They’re hunting now. You’re too defenseless.”

Her jaw clenched. His words felt like a rebuke—as if she were to blame.

“School is a place where you’re supposed to be defenseless! This place is what’s wrong!”

“Normal or not, arguing won’t change anything.”

He flicked the cigarette ash aside. The corner of his mouth lifted.

“And scowling like that doesn’t help either. It just riles them up.”

The alley behind her aunt’s house crackled with nighttime noise—men’s drunken laughter, women’s tired voices, deals and arguments spilling into the street.

Yiseo winced at every shout.

The noise never became easier. No matter how many nights she heard it.

Tae Mujin’s gaze shifted from the alley back to her. His voice was quieter now.

“Go tell those bastards.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Tell them you’re Tae Mujin’s girl. Tell them not to touch you.”

Heat rushed into her face.

She gaped, lips parting, unsure if she’d heard right. Tae Mujin raised a brow, unfazed.

“They’ll back off if they think you’re someone I manage.”

Her mind went blank for a beat.

What did he just say?

His meaning was clear. Too clear. And the realization burned, anger rising faster than reason.

“Are you crazy?! Your girl?!”

“Don’t get excited. No one’ll mess with you if they think you’re mine.”

“You think this is the same as those women?!”

Tae Mujin tilted his head, running a hand through his hair, unconcerned.

“Even those women you look down on know how to protect themselves. What about you?”

“How is selling your body taking care of yourself?!”

“Then what will you sell?” His eyes flicked toward the coin she’d offered. “You don’t even have bus fare.”

Shame hit her like a slap.

She wanted to cry—not because of his words, but because she was disappointed in herself for expecting something else from someone like him.

“I won’t sell anything. If you want to pimp someone, find someone else.”

Tae Mujin laughed. A loud, bright laugh. It rang in her ears—mocking, sharp, deliberate.

She turned without another word and slammed the front door behind her, just like he had done before.

________________________________________

“Yoon Yiseo, you’re probably better off taking the piano exam instead of singing, right?”

The music teacher’s voice cut through the chatter. In an instant, the classroom quieted.

Before Yiseo transferred, the practical exam had already ended, and most of the kids had simply sung any song from the textbook. It was natural for the teacher to ask her, who borrowed the music room every day, to play the piano instead of singing. She pretended to be calm under the torrent of arrow-like gazes, but deep down, she resented the teacher for no good reason.

She had barely made it to school after agonizing all night. She planned to leave early for the time being, and most importantly, she couldn’t give up the music room.

For Yiseo, giving up the music room wasn’t just giving up practice. It was like giving up the piano, studying abroad, and her dad’s calls. After that, there would be nothing left but the squalid Seoryeong.

Fortunately, Oh Jang-heon and the boys just grinned when they saw her at school and didn’t take any further action. And Tae Mujin… every time the classroom door opened, her nerves were on edge, but just as he had said last night, he didn’t come.

“…Can’t I take the exam separately later?”

“It’s an exam when it’s taken during class. Any piece is fine, just play one. Thanks to you, we can enjoy some music, too.”

Seeing the teacher’s rather pleased expression, Yiseo realized she had no idea how much of an eyesore she was to the kids.

“She’s too precious to play in front of us, huh?”

“Ugh, how annoying. Who does she think she is, hogging the music room every day? Didn’t she bribe the music teacher behind our backs?”

The kids sitting around whispered and chuckled softly. Haa, a long sigh escaped her. The longer she endured, the longer the time of humiliation would drag on.

She got up from her seat and sat in front of the piano. She quickly scrolled through the pieces she had practiced in her mind. She chose a piece that wasn’t overly flashy, one that wouldn’t stand out to the kids, made up her mind, and placed her hands on the keyboard. Beethoven’s Piano Sonata No. 8, Pathétique, 2nd movement. It was also her dad’s most beloved piece.

Adagio cantabile.

The quiet first measure flowed, as if meaning “slowly and peacefully, in a singing style,” but it was soon brutally drowned out by the children’s jeers. Accusations like “Even I could play that” erupted from everywhere. The teacher told them to be quiet, but no one paid attention.

She tried to block out the surrounding noise and concentrate solely on the piano’s resonance.

‘Sufficient confidence and technique, but shallow emotional variation.’

The criticisms she always received from competition judges and professors came to mind. Each time she heard those words, she felt a vague frustration, but now she could precisely understand that critique.

This piece, said to have been created to comfort a mother who lost her child, contained both sorrow and the solace that comforted it. But the sound coming from her fingertips now lacked both sorrow and comfort. The melody gradually blurred, about to scatter like sand somewhere.

BANG!!!

A deafening sound shook the music room.

Her trembling spine made a mis-touch. He said he wasn’t coming to school today.

If her fingers, which had repeated the movements tens of thousands of times, hadn’t moved out of habit, she would have stopped playing. As Tae Mujin kicked the entrance door, silence finally settled in the music room. He slowly pulled out a chair in the back of the classroom and sat down. Coincidentally, the piece was heading towards its climax.

Her fingertips, pressing the keys, became stiff as needles, making a mockery of the Adagio tempo that called for a quiet and slow performance. Her heightened nerves sharpened the blurry sound. Silence filled the air tightly all around. The piano melody gently embraced that stillness.

Plop, plop—the small sounds that just blended with the piano melody were the sounds of snow piles, accumulated on tree branches overnight, falling. Why did those sounds seem so sad and heartbreaking? The notes she had practiced thousands of times felt unfamiliar, like sounds she was hearing for the first time.

It was a dreamlike melody, as if caressing someone weeping, asleep in a trampled flower garden. Every night, to prevent Yihwan from hearing, she would hide under the covers and wipe away her tears. Since coming to Seoryeong, she had pretended to be calm and kept her pride, but all along, she had wanted to cry aloud. The hazy melody whispered distant comfort.

If only all of this were a dream…

A sweet trance, drawing her into a swamp of oblivion.

She poured her desperate wish to forget everything, even in a dream, into her fingertips.

Despite the untuned piano and the worst audience, the melody of the piano, which she had played all her life, was more beautiful and peaceful than ever.

Clap-clap-clap—the song ended, and the teacher encouraged applause, but the classroom remained silent. Not wanting to make eye contact with anyone, she lowered her gaze and quickly returned to her seat.

________________________________________

“Hey, what was the title of that song earlier?”

After music class, as everyone was waiting to leave, someone spoke to her. It was the girl with many freckles on her nose, Jung Jiyoo. On the first day of her transfer, she had suggested they eat lunch together.

“It sounded good. The title of the song you played earlier, I mean.”

“What’s it to you?”

Jung Jiyoo’s eyes widened and froze.

Yiseo turned her head, as if uninterested. Although she had never initiated it, Jung Jiyoo was always the one who laughed behind the group that bullied her. Even if she didn’t agree when someone insulted her, she would hold her stomach and laugh, finding it so amusing. Her stiff expression, startled by the cold reply, was comical. Did she think Yiseo would eagerly jump at her like a starved animal if she just said a word?

As Jung Jiyoo’s angry footsteps left the classroom, Yiseo immediately locked the music room door.

She only practiced during lunch and had an early leave pass, so she planned to go home early. She didn’t like the appearance of running away, but for now, this was the best option. She was about to take a bite of a stick-shaped snack she bought for lunch when—

Clunk, rattle. She heard someone trying to open the music room door. Who? She stopped chewing and held her breath. She just waited for whoever it was to leave, but this time, she heard a knock, knock on the door.

“Yiseo~ Are you in there? It’s Jiyoo.”

“…”

She had seemed really angry earlier. Strangely, the tone of her voice calling out was quite soft. Yiseo’s initial tension eased, and she got up and headed towards the entrance. Her stiff shoulders relaxed. Why did the knocking make her think of Tae Mujin?

“Yiseo, if you’re free, I was wondering if we could have lunch together.”

“Ah… I’m sorry, but I only have snacks.”

“Oh, it’s not about the meal. I bought kimbap, so let’s eat together. I also feel a bit sorry about what happened before.”

She said it like this, so Yiseo couldn’t leave Jung Jiyoo outside the door any longer.

Yiseo let out a short breath and clicked the lock open. She reached for the doorknob, but before she could touch it, the sliding door was roughly pushed open.

Jiyoo was the first one she saw in the wide-open doorway. Her narrowly curved eyes were filled with hostility and mockery. And behind her, the boys were grinning down at her.

“Ah!!”

Her wrist, as she hastily tried to close the door, was caught in a rough grip. The half-open door slammed against the doorframe. And in an instant, the group’s footsteps quickly crossed the threshold.

“Don’t you think it’s a waste to have this big music room all to yourself? And locking the door too.”

Thump, the door closed with a bang. Simultaneously, Oh Jang-heon’s lips twisted upwards in a sneer.

“...Then you guys use it. I’ll leave.”

“Yiseo~ I said let’s eat together. Lunch break still has a long time left, why are you trying to leave?”

“The music teacher said she’d be here soon! So you guys should go eat lunch somewhere else.”

“Really? That’s strange. I saw the music teacher writing an early dismissal slip because she had something to do.”

Her heart fluttered like a small bird.

The old building with the music room was quite far from the new building where the staff room and classrooms were. Her desire to be isolated had, ironically, become a fatal trap.

“I’m leaving, so move!”

She pushed the boy blocking her way. But her outstretched arms were instead seized on both sides. She was instantly dragged and seated in front of the piano. Her shoulders trembled as Oh Jang-heon’s hand pressed down on them forcefully.

“It’s boring to just eat, so play that song you were playing earlier. It sounded good, didn’t it?”

“Are you guys crazy?! Let me go!!”

However, this time, her wrist was seized and forcibly placed on the keyboard. Oh Jang-heon grabbed her wrist and shook it up and down as if playing the piano. The keys, randomly pressed by her hands, produced a cacophony.

“What’s the title of this song, Yiseo? Don’t ignore me this time, just tell me.” Jung Jiyoo asked, giggling.

“Isn’t anyone here!!! ...Ugh...”

She tried to shout but her mouth was immediately covered.

“No one can hear you if you scream here, Yiseo, it’s too far from the new building. Just listen nicely, okay?”

Oh Jang-heon’s hand, touching her lips and tongue, tasted salty and terrible. She opened her teeth and bit down fiercely.

“Aagh! You fucking bitch! What the hell are you doing?!”

Her head was immediately struck from behind. Her upper body lurched forward, then her hair was grabbed, and her neck was pulled back. Short, sharp breaths escaped her throat. In her upward gaze, she saw their gleaming eyes looking down at her.

“Haa, you guys... just try touching my body.”

“Your body’s too precious for me to just touch it, wouldn’t it be? Yoon Yiseo, you bitch, I can’t sleep at night thinking about you.”

Oh Jang-heon’s fingers hooked onto his tie knot and roughly pulled it loose. The tie fell to the floor like a snake’s shed skin.

You little punks, you lowly thugs.

She kept muttering through her clenched teeth, but she couldn’t do anything but tremble with her seized arms.

The tears she had tried so hard to hold back finally escaped. She knew it was meaningless, but she didn’t want to show her fear until the very end. Oh Jang-heon grabbed her flushed cheek. He roughly smeared away her tears with his thumb, grinning.

“On your first day of transfer, you treated me like an insect just because I touched your face a bit.”

“Ha... Not treated like an insect, you are an insect... aren’t you?”

The surrounding onlookers burst into laughter. Oh Jang-heon’s face twisted in rage as they mocked him, telling him to change his name to Oh Chung-heon.

“Yoon Yiseo! You bitch, try fighting back to the end!!”

Oh Jang-heon grabbed her right wrist and placed it on the keyboard. Then he gripped the piano lid and slammed it down in one swift motion.

“AHHH!!!” A scream tore from her throat.

She trembled and opened her tightly shut eyes. But she felt nothing in her hand. Oh Jang-heon chuckled and lifted the piano lid again, which he had stopped midway.

“This time I’m really doing it! Go ahead and treat me like an insect again!!”

“Ah, no! Don’t! Don’t!!!”

“Who are you to give orders? You should beg, Yiseo. Beg that you’ll do everything we say if you don’t want your hand to be crippled and never play the piano again!”

The piano lid, gaping open like a maw, menacingly swayed. The surrounding figures reflected in the shiny piano surface were grotesquely distorted.

In broad daylight, and in a school, no less, what was happening felt unreal.

‘You are in no position to ignore anyone now.’

Only then did Yiseo fully agree with his words.

Like his scoff about how defenseless she was, the laughter surrounding her echoed like a nightmare.

Thump.

Everyone stopped moving at the sound from the entrance.

It was too loud to be the wind, and too unkind to be a knock. Oh Jang-heon muttered a small curse and covered Yiseo’s mouth again.

Despite no visible presence, thump, thump, thump, artificial sounds continuously reverberated through the music room. The slow rhythm was like someone’s footsteps, sending shivers down her spine.

“I’ll go see who it is.”

Jung Jiyoo quickly ran towards the entrance. However, just before she reached it, with a crack sound, half of the lock broke off.

Huh? Huh? Why? Oh Jang-heon asked with a blank look. Ugh, ugh! Yiseo tried to scream his name through the gap in her covered lips, but only a metallic sound escaped.

Tae Mujin slowly approached.

There was no hurriedness in him. His expression was indifferent, as if what was happening before his eyes was everyday. Yiseo’s gaze desperately clung to his black pupils, which didn’t even blink.

“Mujin... did you leave something behind? Should I look for it? Or... did we make too much noise? Yoon Yiseo was being too loud. I’ll warn her!” Oh Jang-heon babbled incoherently. This loosened the hand covering Yiseo’s mouth. Taking advantage of the gap, Yiseo tore Oh Jang-heon’s hand away from her body.

Finally, through her open airway, she shrieked his name.

“Tae Mujin!! Get these bastards away from me right now!!!”

Tae Mujin’s head tilted slightly.

And then he grabbed the back of Yiseo’s neck and slowly turned her head with a crack, and she felt like she would go crazy with impatience at his slow movement. She yearned for him to just clear away this trash like he had casually thrown her aside, telling her not to linger near the shop. She looked up at his mouth desperately.

But the words that came from his tightly closed lips were something Yiseo had never expected.

“Why should I?”

That short phrase choked off her breath. And no other words came from Tae Mujin’s mouth.

Yiseo blinked her hot eyelids, dumbfounded. Tears streamed down her cheeks. A sob-like gasp escaped her parted lips.

“Haha... ha. Mujin, you also hated what Yoon Yiseo was doing, didn’t you? This bitch, she ignores me, no, all the kids in school, completely!” Oh Jang-heon prattled on excitedly, as Tae Mujin only stared at the limp Yiseo.

“Today, we’re going to teach her a proper lesson. And we’ll have some fun too. Oh, do you want to have fun first? We’ll keep watch! No one comes here during lunch break.”

Oh Jang-heon grabbed Yiseo’s hair and pulled her head back. In her raised line of sight, Tae Mujin was visible.

If he mocked her again, she would spit on him. Tae Mujin just quietly looked down at Yiseo. His black pupils persistently held her gaze, as if asking something.

Yiseo suddenly had a thought.

Tae Mujin was now... not observing, but testing.

“Say it yourself.”

As if to support that thought, he asked.

His question “Why should I?” was neither mockery nor refusal. It was a command to say it herself.

“Yiseo, of course, we’ll do what we want. Yoon Yiseo, answer him. Mujin is asking.”

Oh Jang-heon, misinterpreting his words, forced Yiseo to answer. He shook her gripped hair, making Yiseo’s head nod like a doll. Tears streamed from her eyes, which were roughly shaken back and forth. Tears caused by physical force, not emotion. The words she had to say to Tae Mujin were the same. A response forcibly spewed out by physical force.

“Hng... Tae... Mujin... these... ugh, right now...”

“What? Yoon Yiseo, what did you just say?”

Oh Jang-heon’s face crumpled in a grimace, and he grabbed Yiseo’s hair, shaking it. The words she had to say to him fluttered in her throat like hiccups.

“Ugh... these... all, kill... them... hng.”

“What is she saying?”

The kids, accomplices and spectators alike, started to laugh.

At this moment, Tae Mujin was more loathsome than the kids cornering her. Knowing that a cornered animal had no choice but to escape through the single exit, Tae Mujin, who still insisted she say it herself, felt even more cruel. Yiseo bit down her tears like poison. And then, as if spitting out the anger that had clogged her throat, she burst out.

“Hng, Tae Mujin! Kill all the bastards who touch the woman you manage!!”

Did Tae Mujin laugh at that moment? She couldn’t see him, obscured by the way he collapsed like a mountain.

In an instant, his hand cupped her chin, and their lips pressed together. It wasn’t a kiss. It was closer to a ritual. A paradoxical ritual of becoming a sacrifice to greater violence to avoid being trampled by violence.

So, thinking this kind of act couldn’t possibly be her first kiss, Yiseo endured his hot lips. She grabbed Tae Mujin’s nape and pulled him down like a rope.

After a long moment, their lips finally separated. When her halted breath finally rushed out, Yiseo realized only then that she had stopped breathing. Tae Mujin’s face, pulled back by mere centimeters, was as unreadable as ever. But the movement of his fingers, rubbing his lips, was soft, almost soothing. Yiseo turned her head away, disliking the sensation intensely. Tae Mujin chuckled softly and slowly straightened his upper body.

“M-Mujin. I... I didn’t... didn’t know... I really didn’t know.”

Oh Jang-heon stammered, backing away. With a pale face, he kept repeating that he hadn’t known, like a broken machine.

When the black eyes that had been fixated on Yiseo turned towards Oh Jang-heon, it felt as though the temperature in the classroom had suddenly dropped.

“Hands up.”

Tae Mujin only said those two words. But that was enough to make Oh Jang-heon’s face lose all vitality, as if he had been hung upside down and all the blood drained out.

“Mujin... I really didn’t know... Hng... I really didn’t know...”

“Hands.”

Tae Mujin’s voice was so calm that Yiseo couldn’t understand what he was about to do. But Oh Jang-heon seemed to understand, and with a trembling sob, he placed his left hand on the keyboard.

CRASH!!!! The piano lid slammed shut with a deafening bang.

“AAAAAAAAH!!!” The randomly pressed keys shrieked an unpleasant discord, making Oh Jang-heon’s scream even more grotesque. Oh Jang-heon collapsed to the floor, clutching his broken fingers to his chest. Yiseo covered her ears at the terrible, unfamiliar sound.

“Again.”

This time, “Put your right hand up,” was added, making Oh Jang-heon’s crouching back twitch violently. Unable to bear it any longer, Jung Jiyoo tried to bolt from the classroom, but Tae Mujin, without taking his eyes off Oh Jang-heon, said,

“Don’t move. Things could get more complicated if you leave.”

At his words, no one dared to move, as if under a spell.

CRASH!! CRASH-CRASH!!! CRASH!!!!

The piano lid slammed shut, and again, and again. And each time it opened, Oh Jang-heon’s hand was losing its shape.

Yiseo felt fear, more than anger or mockery, towards Oh Jang-heon, who had intended to do this to her. She had never known that the piano she had played her whole life could produce such cruel sounds. Like the accomplices waiting for their turn, Yiseo, too, was deathly pale and couldn’t even breathe.

When Oh Jang-heon, sprawled on the floor, stopped moving, Tae Mujin strode towards the trembling boy behind the piano. The boy, kicked in the stomach, fell like a paper doll. The ensuing brutal kicks turned his pleading voice into a grotesque noise. Foaming blood bubbled from the boy’s mouth.

Yiseo watched, disbelieving that this helpless mass of flesh was the same being who had pushed her down. And then, she finally understood why Seosang High and the people of Seoryeong were so afraid of Tae Mujin. Tae Mujin was no mere neighborhood boss.

Tae Mujin left the fallen boys and approached the last one remaining, a girl.

As he got closer, Tae Mujin clicked his tongue. Pitiful yellow droplets were falling from beneath the girl’s skirt. He bent down, bringing his face close to her fear-frozen face, and simply said,

“From now on, don’t talk to Yoon Yiseo, don’t even look at her, it would be good to act as if she doesn’t exist, and it’s also fine if you don’t come to school at all.”

Her terrified face nodded like a puppet. He gestured towards the exit, and she stumbled out of the music room immediately.

Just then, the bell signaling the end of lunch break rang.

Outside the window, the snow that had fallen overnight sparkled, reflecting the light. The classroom was brightly filled with light. Tae Mujin’s gaze slowly swept across the window, then landed on the girl sitting motionless in front of the piano.

Like the snow piled on the sports field, the face looking at him had lost its color and was deathly pale. Just like the day he first met Yoon Yiseo, she was looking at him with a white face.