The Weight of Absence
Woo Han-gyul stepped through the school gates with her shoulders slumped. Why did her bag feel so heavy today?
She hadn’t even added extra textbooks, yet the straps kept digging into her shoulders. Grunting, she adjusted the straps, then paused as realization struck.
Right. It was because Ji-an wasn’t here.
At this time of day, Ji-an would usually take her bag without a word, slinging it over his own shoulder as if it weighed nothing. She could walk empty-handed, swinging her arms freely. But today, no one offered.
“Sorry, I’ve got something to talk about with Park So-yeon today.”
Ji-an’s earlier words kept echoing in her ears. Something to talk about with So-yeon? Hmph. What was that supposed to mean? It wasn’t fair.
She kicked a pebble at her feet for no reason. Watching it roll away only made the walk feel lonelier. Why was the path home so quiet when she was alone? When she walked with Ji-an, she could chatter away and he’d just nod along with a soft “Yeah.” Now there was no one to answer, so her mouth felt idle, her hands felt idle—everything felt idle.
She passed the convenience store without stopping. Ji-an used to buy her favorite jelly there every time. Today there was no one to beg for it, so she trudged on. She wanted jelly. Pouting, she tugged at the strap of her bag.
If she had known it would feel like this, she would have grabbed his sleeve and refused to let go. But when he apologized, she had just said “Okay” without thinking. How stupid.
Ji-an had been acting strange lately. He didn’t come to pick her up in the morning, didn’t play with her during breaks, and now he wasn’t even walking her home. It had been like this for days.
Had she done something wrong? She couldn’t think of anything. Ji-an had never gotten mad at her before. No matter how much she whined, he always gave in. She didn’t know why, but lately he felt distant. Yesterday it hadn’t been like this. Or the day before. When had it started? The thought made her head throb, so she pushed it away.
Then she remembered what had happened in the cafeteria at lunch.
Yujin senior.
Her heart skipped at the name. Today Yujin senior had come over and sat at their table—right beside her.
Wow. Even now the thought made her fingers tingle. Yujin senior was dazzling. When she smiled, the whole world seemed brighter, and her voice was so bright and clear. Every time Han-gyul saw her surrounded by the older girls in the hallway, laughing and chatting, her own heart would race from afar.
How wonderful it must feel to be part of that circle. To laugh together in the middle of all that brightness.
Back when she had been stuck in the hospital, people like that had only existed on television—bright, noisy groups playing together on screen. She had always watched and wished she could join them.
Yujin senior was exactly that kind of person. Someone who looked like she had stepped straight out of a TV screen, sparkling.
And today that senior had sat right next to her. It felt like a dream; she hadn’t even been able to eat properly.
Wow. She really did like Yujin senior.
Just thinking about her made Han-gyul’s cheeks burn and her whole body feel light. She cupped her face with both hands and grinned to herself.
If this wasn’t love, what was?
Truthfully, she had never really talked to the senior. Yujin was a second-year and Han-gyul was only a first-year, so their paths rarely crossed. Still, someday she would become close with her. The thought lifted her mood again.
But the floating feeling didn’t last. Even after daydreaming about Yujin senior to her heart’s content, a hollow space remained in her chest.
Strange. She had thought about the person she liked, so why didn’t it fill her up?
She stopped walking and tilted her head.
In the cafeteria, having the senior sit beside her had felt wonderful—until Ji-an left. Suddenly all she could think about was him.
Ji-an, where are you going?
Without meaning to, she had called after him. The senior she liked was right there, yet her eyes kept drifting to the door Ji-an had walked through.
Why had she done that? How odd.
Thinking of Yujin senior made her feel floaty and tingly, but thinking of Ji-an brought different memories. His hand on her forehead when she had a fever. The way he waited patiently instead of rushing her when she was slow. Those moments surfaced, though she couldn’t name what they meant.
Her head was too muddled, so she decided to stop thinking. Ji-an had always solved the difficult things for her. If she asked him about this, he would probably give her an answer right away.
…But could she even ask him?
Ji-an, I like Yujin senior, but I keep thinking about you instead. Is that weird?
The question marks kept piling up until she shook her head hard.
Whatever. She didn’t know. Her head really hurt.
By the time she was nearly home, her legs felt shaky. Since afternoon, her body had been dragging and her energy had been low. Maybe it was because everything had felt so unsettled these past few days.
Whatever. She was probably just tired. She brushed it off and focused on getting home so she could lie down.
As she reached the front door, the familiar smell of dinner greeted her. Mom must be cooking.
When she opened the door, her mother leaned out from the kitchen, apron tied around her waist.
“Our daughter’s home? How was your day?”
“Mom, I’m back.”
Her mother welcomed her, then glanced behind her. Her expression shifted to surprise.
“Where’s Ji-an? He didn’t come with you today?”
…Of course she would ask.
Han-gyul and Ji-an always came home together, so her mother was used to seeing them as a pair. Coming in alone must have seemed strange.
It was strange to her too. Ever since she could remember, there had hardly been a day she hadn’t been glued to Ji-an’s side.
“Um… Ji-an said he had something to do today.”
“Something to do? Did something happen between you two? You seemed to be getting along so well lately.”
Her mother studied her face. Lately she had been quietly pleased whenever she saw how close they were, but today her eyes held a puzzled look.
“Nothing happened. Ji-an’s probably just busy these days.”
They had never fought once. Yet here they were, and she couldn’t even explain why. She could only mumble.
Her mother watched her for a moment, then didn’t press further. Instead she turned back to the pot with a faintly disappointed expression.
“I made extra soup thinking Ji-an would stay for dinner. I guess he’s not coming today.”
The words pricked at Han-gyul’s heart. It felt like it was her fault Ji-an wasn’t here. But what had she done? She really hadn’t done anything.
At their dinner table, there had always been a place set for Ji-an as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Her mother always prepared enough for him and treated him like her own son. She made his favorite side dishes and, if it got late, laid out bedding so he could stay over. Ji-an called her “Mother” and followed her well.
That had been their evening scene. Today, one seat at that table sat empty.
Dinner tasted good, but she couldn’t finish it. When her mother asked why she was eating so little, she just said she wasn’t hungry.
She went to her room, dropped her bag, and flopped onto the bed.
Staring at the ceiling, the whole day felt strangely off. It had been an amazing day—Yujin senior had sat beside her, and she had felt so excited—yet what lingered in her mind was the empty dinner table, the bag that had felt too heavy, and Ji-an’s face as he turned away saying sorry.
Weird. Really weird.
Something good had happened, so why didn’t anything feel good?
She pulled the blanket around herself and curled up.
I miss Ji-an.
The thought rose so suddenly that she startled herself.
She had been so excited during the day, so why did she miss Ji-an now that it was night?
What was wrong with her? Why was she like this?
She hugged her pillow and kicked her feet, but the strange feeling wouldn’t go away.
The person who could answer was Ji-an, yet the question was about Ji-an himself, so she couldn’t ask.
Maybe tomorrow would feel better.
If tomorrow, when she went to school, Ji-an casually took her bag again like nothing had happened, maybe this odd feeling would disappear.
But what if—just what if—he didn’t do it tomorrow either? What if the day after, and the day after that, he kept drifting away until one day he was simply gone?
The thought made her chest drop. Her heart pounded on its own and her fingertips turned cold.
What was that? She had only thought it for a second.
She took several deep breaths, but it was hard to breathe. Tears welled up, so she squeezed her eyes shut.
She quickly buried the thought under the blanket.
No, no. That couldn’t happen. Ji-an had always been right beside her. Ji-an wasn’t that kind of person.
She realized now that a day without Ji-an felt this strange and empty. She had never experienced it before, so she hadn’t known.
Tomorrow, she hoped Ji-an would come pick her up. If he called “Han-gyul!” in front of their house, she would run out and tell him everything that had happened today, every single detail.
She comforted herself with that thought until her eyes slowly closed.
The blanket was warm, yet one corner of her chest kept feeling cold.