Chapter 4.3

As expected, he was incredibly tall. Even as she looked up at him from below, all she could see was his massive back in the tracksuit.  

Holding her breath, Su-eon quietly tried to close the door.  

But then, the man grabbed one of the fallen track team seniors by the collar and yanked him upward.  

The senior, pinned against the wall and dragged upward, had a face covered in blood. His jaw, swollen and bruised, barely opened as he mumbled something incomprehensible, like a child babbling.  

The man, hearing whatever the senior said, let out a faint smirk.  

At that moment, Su-eon caught sight of his face.  

There was no mistaking it.  

It was the face on J’s phone wallpaper.  

Ki Seung-jo, from Han Kyung Teachers’ College’s affiliated high school basketball team.  

He was the one who had beaten the male track team seniors into a pulp.  

“…….”

Su-eon quietly closed the door. She desperately wanted to lock it, but she didn’t dare make any noise that might reveal her hiding spot. After all, this had nothing to do with her. These were upperclassmen from another school, and they were male athletes at that. She needed to stay calm. Act wisely and feign ignorance, as a mere bystander.  

Su-eon felt no guilt about her decision. Among the fallen seniors was the same guy who had once yanked down her tracksuit pants at the water fountain and run off laughing. She could still hear the sound of their collective snickering as they had all gathered and laughed at her. Someone like that deserved it.  

Thinking coldly, she pulled out her MP3 player and plugged in her earphones. Her fingers trembled slightly as she scrolled through the iPod’s wheel, but she pressed harder and turned up the volume. Listening to the playlist filled with Girls’ Generation, 2PM, and SHINee songs that Jung Cho-ah had loaded for her, her trembling heart began to settle.  

It wasn’t until the playlist had cycled through completely that Su-eon mustered the courage to open the door again. By then, it was already evening, and she could no longer endure her sticky, sweaty body or her growing hunger.  

When she finally opened the door with the intention of bolting out quickly, the hallway was completely empty.  

The blood-stained mess and the track team seniors who had been lying in a heap, covered in blood, had all disappeared as if they had been a mirage.  

Yes, it must have been a dream.  

Convincing herself of this, Su-eon stepped fully out of the locker room, but she froze in her tracks once again, holding her breath in shock.  

Ki Seung-jo was leaning against the wall, looking straight at her.  

Why was he standing there? Did he know I had been hiding?  

In an instant, fear washed over her, and her face turned pale. Clenching her hands tightly as if wringing them, she glanced up at Ki Seung-jo from her much shorter height, feeling like a child looking up at an adult. Her feet, frozen in place, refused to move.  

I’m alone. I didn’t see anything. May the East Sea and Mount Baekdu last forever…  

Biting her trembling lips tightly, she pretended to act composed as she walked down the hallway. Just as she was about to pass by Ki Seung-jo, he spoke.  

“Don’t use the locker room anymore.”  

Su-eon stopped dead in her tracks, her face draining of all color. Her neck muscles stiffened as if frozen solid by fear.  

Ki Seung-jo, who had been silently watching her frozen figure, ran a hand across his mouth.  

When her eyes fell on his bloodied knuckles, the memory of the earlier scene came rushing back, and an overwhelming wave of terror surged through her, making her feel like she might faint.  

Was the locker room the problem? It seemed the high school students didn’t like a middle schooler using their facilities without permission. That was understandable. This wasn’t the first time such disputes had occurred. In the past, it had mostly been female seniors who voiced complaints. It made sense that male students could dislike it as well. If Su-eon acted calmly, nothing would happen…  

Suddenly, she gasped. Ki Seung-jo, who had been standing like an immovable mountain, abruptly moved. Everything in her vision began to spin as if in slow motion, and the sounds around her grew distant. He seemed to be saying something, but she couldn’t hear it. He was approaching her, step by step, getting closer…  

“Huh!”  

“Here.”  

Ki Seung-jo bent down, picked something up, and held it out to her. It took Su-eon a moment to realize that the familiar black backpack he was holding was hers. She hesitated briefly before reaching out to take it.  

“Thank you,” 

She said, her voice barely audible, though it came out steadier than she had expected.  

“Did you hear what I said?” 

Ki Seung-jo asked.  

Su-eon nodded quickly, almost frantically. 

But what had he said again? Oh, right—he had told me not to use the locker room. 

That was easy enough to comply with. She stiffened her neck and nodded again, this time more firmly.  

“Even if it’s inconvenient, change your clothes in the restroom.”

He added.  

When she nodded once more, Ki Seung-jo stared at her with an unreadable expression for a moment before stepping slightly aside. Only then did Su-eon feel her breath returning. She walked away as calmly as she could manage and turned the corner.  

The moment she was out of sight, she ran all the way home without looking back.  

As she ran, her thoughts raced. She promised herself that she would never go near the locker room again. If she was told not to use it, then she wouldn’t. Life was too precious to take any risks.  

From that day onward, Ki Seung-jo became, in Su-eon’s mind, the most terrifying person in the world—a figure who embodied the source of all evil.  

She thought to herself, 

I should tell her not to mention his name. If, by some chance, Ki Seung-jo accepts J’s confession and they start dating… 

Su-eon shook her head. Life was too precious.  

Even today, as Su-eon crossed over to the high school gym for practice, she briskly walked past the locker room and headed straight for the restroom. She was determined to convince her friend no matter what.  

* * *

J, meanwhile, was fiddling with the ends of her long hair, which she had clearly straightened with a flat iron that morning. Her naturally curly hair always sprang back into waves at the slightest hint of humidity, no matter how often she got magic straight perms.  

“I’ve been thinking about it. I’m planning to make my official confession after we get to high school.”  

She sighed and continued, 

“They said I can’t get double eyelid surgery until I’m in high school. What can I do? I’ll just have to wait. Once I’m all set, I’ll make a proper move. Maybe I should get my eyebrows tattooed first.”  

“…What are you even talking about?” 

Su-eon thought to herself, baffled.  

“What else? It’s the kind of profound struggle that natural beauties could never understand, even if they were reborn.”  

Su-eon laughed, as if she couldn’t help herself. And so, the two of them began their fan letter-writing operation. They roamed stationery stores in search of pretty letter paper and stickers, flipping through poetry collections and magazines. When they ran out of material from Wordsworth and Shakespeare, they started inserting poems by Midang and Kim Sowol.  

Su-eon would always open the letter with a comment about the weather, while J provided details about the day’s match or training, and together, they filled the letter paper. The ending was always the same—a declaration of passionate support, promising infinite encouragement. For Su-eon, who was ghostwriting, that overly sentimental line was so cringe-worthy that she often messed it up at the end and had to start over from the beginning.  

Their fan letter-writing operation, a chaotic mix of all kinds of “seasonings,” continued smoothly through the first semester and into the second. That autumn was one of the most intense seasons of Su-eon’s life—more so than for Ki Seung-jo, who was preparing for the U16 national team selection and his third national tournament.  

Su-eon was so busy preparing for the Spring Track and Field Meet that she could barely attend classes and had to temporarily hand over the management of the class journal and attendance book. Her previously stick-thin frame was undergoing constant changes, her chest kept growing, and her records weren’t improving. She couldn’t tell whether the heaviness she felt was coming from her body or her mind.  

The difficult period wasn’t limited to Su-eon alone. J, who had joined Ki Seung-jo’s fan club and followed him to every match, saw her grades plummet in the second semester. Her parents, alarmed, confiscated her phone and laptop and imposed private tutoring as an extreme measure. Naturally, the time they spent brainstorming fan letters together dwindled, and even then, Su-eon ended up writing and sending the letters on J’s behalf.  

And then, that day arrived.  

It was a day when the basketball team, undefeated and on the brink of securing a triple crown in the national tournament, was preparing for the finals. That same day, Su-eon became the only first-year student to achieve a double crown in the track and field meet, earning her name a spot in the local newspaper.  

Meanwhile, the nationwide by-elections had begun. After school, Su-eon was summoned to the main house, where a printed document was placed in her hands. It was an interview sheet with answers already filled in. On that piece of paper, Su-eon had been transformed into a track team girl who had pursued her dreams thanks to the support of Assemblywoman Yeo.  

“Don’t say anything. Just do as you’re told. Isn’t it better for you to go alone than to go with your disabled father? Or… do you want to do it that way?”  

At that moment, Su-eon couldn’t say a word. For those few seconds, as if frozen, unable to speak, that brief moment remained etched in her memory forever, tormenting her.  

A few days later, when she saw the articles plastered all over the internet, alongside a photo of her and her father, Su-eon realized just how foolish she had been to think she was clever. Of course, the main focus of attention was Su-eon’s pretty face. A pitiful girl raised by her deaf, single father. A commendable politician who supported her both materially and emotionally. The story of Su-eon and her father spread widely as a heartwarming tale during that election season, solidifying Assemblywoman Yeo’s position in her district.