The Worst Day (3)
The classroom began to stir. First came the sharp intake of collective breath, followed immediately by hushed whispers darting from desk to desk. Students walking in with their backpacks slung over their shoulders froze in the doorway. Not a single soul moved to their seat.
Jinhyuk’s arm remained outstretched. The hand clutching the letter grew heavier with every passing second. He knew he had to lower it, yet he couldn't remember how.
"..."
Lee Yujeong rose from her seat, the legs of her chair screeching harshly against the floor.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
Her cry was laced with sharp irritation. It was a voice—and a tone—that Seo Jinhyuk never could have imagined coming from his personal goddess, at least not five minutes ago.
"..."
Jinhyuk couldn't utter a single syllable.
"Haah..."
Her brow furrowed in disgust. Running a hand through her hair with a heavy sigh, she brushed past him and stormed out of the classroom without a backward glance. She hadn't so much as grazed the letter.
Click.
The sliding door rattled shut.
Jinhyuk remained rooted to the spot, the letter still clutched in his trembling hand.
From that moment until the final bell rang, Jinhyuk was acutely aware of the constant chatter behind his back. He couldn't make out the exact words, nor did he try to. But with every gaze fixed squarely upon him, he didn't need to hear to know what they were whispering about.
Whether he walked down the hallway, stood before his locker, or sat at his desk, the murmurs followed close behind his head. The instant he turned around, they fell silent.
"..."
Even when class began, nothing changed. Jinhyuk didn't take in a single stroke of chalk written on the board. Sweat soaked through his clothes more than usual, his heart hammering against his ribs in an erratic, painful rhythm.
...How did it end up like this?
That single thought echoed endlessly in his mind.
Yujeong was the one who asked him to write the letter. She had asked him to confess. Jinhyuk hadn't been the one to bring it up first. So why?
...What did I do wrong?
Was it because someone walked in when they should have been alone? Did he pick the wrong time? Even if he couldn't have anticipated people showing up, should he have waited a little longer? Or did he say the wrong thing? Was he supposed to hand over the letter first, or speak first? He had rehearsed the sequence countless times since morning.
"..."
Beneath his desk, he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists. His fingers refused to obey him properly.
He couldn't recall a single word his homeroom teacher said during the closing class assembly. The second the dismissal bell rang, Jinhyuk grabbed his bag and stood up. Behind him, the whispering resumed. Without looking back, he hurried out of the classroom.
By the school gate stood Jang Yuna. It was the exact spot where she always waited for him. Jinhyuk spotted her silhouette from afar, then turned on his heel and slipped out through the side gate on the opposite end of the campus.
If he met her, Yuna would be the first to ask what happened today. News traveled fast; there was no way rumors hadn't already spread across the school, so she might even know already. And right now, he didn't have the courage to say a word about it out loud.
Jinhyuk picked up his pace, breaking into a near sprint. Not once on the journey home did he look back.
Slipping off his shoes, Jinhyuk went straight into his room without turning on the lights. He dropped his bag onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed, not even bothering to change out of his uniform.
"..."
He stared up at the ceiling.
He was hungry. Having skipped lunch and with dinner hour long past, it was only natural. Yet the thought of swallowing food made his stomach churn. He could imagine getting up and pulling open the refrigerator door, but he couldn't picture taking anything out or putting it into his mouth. So he just lay there, motionless.
After a long silence, Jinhyuk fished his phone out of his pocket. He hadn't checked it once the entire day.
...Maybe if I ask.
If he reached out, maybe she would explain. Perhaps there had been a misunderstanding, or maybe Yujeong had just been in a terrible mood because of something else entirely.
With trembling hands, Jinhyuk opened their chat room. All the messages they had exchanged up until yesterday were still there—her asking him to write a letter, telling him to confess in the classroom, telling him to do it tomorrow. Every single word remained intact.
Jinhyuk typed into the message field.
The delivery confirmation never appeared. Instead, a harsh red exclamation mark popped up beside each message.
"..."
Jinhyuk tried sending them again, but the same red mark flared in the exact same spot. Where her profile picture used to be, there was only a blank gray silhouette.
He recognized the sign—it was what happened when someone blocked you.
"..."
Jinhyuk shut off the screen. He rested the phone over his face for a moment before letting it slip onto the mattress beside him.
"...Haah."
He couldn't draw a proper breath. He wanted to weep, but the tears wouldn't come. Instead, all the strength drained from his limbs like water through a sieve.
...Was all of it a lie?
No. The conversations they shared late into the night over the past few days couldn't have been a fabrication. Which meant he must have made some terrible, catastrophic mistake. What on earth did he do that made her erase him completely?
No matter how hard Jinhyuk racked his brain, he couldn't find an answer. And not knowing was the hardest part to bear.
"..."
Jinhyuk was familiar with this sensation. He had felt like this for a long time after his mother passed away. Days when his eyes opened in the morning but his body refused to move, when his stomach ached with hunger but he couldn't stomach food, when entire days blurred past without leaving behind a single memory.
Back then, it had taken months just to crawl his way back to the surface. He had promised himself he would never fall into that abyss again.
Clad in his school uniform, Jinhyuk drifted into sleep.
The next morning, Jinhyuk did not get up. When the alarm went off, he turned it off and lay back down. He told himself he would only rest for today; he would go back to school tomorrow.
The next day, he thought the exact same thing.
And just like that, an entire week slipped away. Calls arrived from the school, but Jinhyuk didn't answer a single one.
Inside the faculty office at Saetbyeol High School.
Seated at a desk by the window was the homeroom teacher of Class 1-3, Park Junseok. He was a male teacher in his mid-forties. Standing before him was Lee Yujeong.
"Sit down."
"...I'm fine standing."
"Take a seat. It won't take long."
Yujeong pulled a chair back and sat. Park Junseok straightened the papers on his desk, took off his glasses, and set them aside.
"Jinhyuk hasn't been coming to school."
"..."
"He isn't answering his phone either."
Yujeong kept her mouth shut.
"I heard about what happened that day."
Junseok spoke in a manner that was firm yet gentle. He wasn't the kind of educator who raised his voice, which was precisely why the students of Class 1-3 found him approachable and well-respected.
"So Jinhyuk suddenly confessed and gave you a letter?"
"Yes."
"And that was it? Was there anything else going on between you two before then?"
"Nothing in particular..."
"Haah."
Park Junseok sighed, closing his eyes tightly in frustration. It was a situation where the phrase 'at a dead end' fit all too well. It wasn't an outright fight between friends or a clear-cut case of bullying, so there was no one he could simply haul into the office and reprimand.
"All right, I understand. You're not the type of kid to lie, Yujeong."
"Yes."
"Still, Yujeong... don't you think you overreacted a little?"
"..."
Yujeong lifted her head for a fleeting second before casting her eyes back down.
"I'm sorry."
"..."
Junseok sighed once more, his fingers fiddling with the corner of a document on his desk.
"Of all kids, Jinhyuk is..."
He trailed off, cutting himself short. Very few people in the school knew what was written in Jinhyuk's student record. As his homeroom teacher, Junseok was one of them, but the girl sitting in front of him certainly wouldn't be.
"...No, never mind."
Junseok slipped his glasses back on.
"You can head back. Of course, I understand it must have been startling and embarrassing to have someone spring something like that on you out of nowhere."
"No... I'm really sorry."
Looking at Lee Yujeong's shadowed, downcast face, Junseok regretted calling out her behavior. Even so, he really needed to get in touch with Jinhyuk soon. Would he have to pay a personal visit to the boy's house?
It was morning when Jinhyuk opened his eyes. The alarm didn't ring—he had turned it off a week ago and never set it again.
"..."
He stared at the ceiling for a long time.
"I need to go back to school soon..."
His voice came out cracked and hoarse. He couldn't even remember how many days it had been since he last spoke aloud. He had long since stopped counting the missed calls from his homeroom teacher. Even Jinhyuk knew that if he kept staying home like this, things would spiral completely out of hand.
...I know that, but...
His body wouldn't budge.
Jinhyuk rolled onto his side. Then, unbidden, a completely unrelated thought surfaced in his mind.
...That's strange.
He had no idea why such a thought crossed his mind now. His mother had never once spoken about his father. When Jinhyuk was young, he had asked where his dad was, but his mother never gave him an answer.
"..."
If he had passed away, she would have simply said so. If they had split up through a divorce, she could have said that too. Yet she never uttered a single word about him. She spoke and acted as though a father had never existed from the start.
Jinhyuk had never stopped to consider how strange that was—he had never possessed the emotional luxury to ponder such things.
...What's wrong with me, seriously?
Jinhyuk closed his eyes, then opened them again. Why was he suddenly thinking about this? Was it because he desperately wished someone would help him, or give him advice on what to do next? He couldn't be sure.
His head was a chaotic mess. But amidst that swirling mess, another realization struck him.
"...Ah, right."
It was my birthday.
The day after his confession. His sixteenth birthday. On that day, Jinhyuk hadn't left his bed, failing to even register that it was his birthday. An entire week had passed before he finally remembered.
"..."
Only then did Jinhyuk force his body upright.
This wasn't right. Completely forgetting his own birthday and lying in bed for an entire week proved he was far from sound of mind. If he continued like this, he would truly ruin himself.
Jinhyuk climbed out of bed. His school uniform still lay crumpled on the floor, untouched since a week ago.
After finishing his shower, Jinhyuk stepped out. Towel-drying his hair, he stopped before the bathroom sink. The mirror was fogged with condensation, so he wiped it clean with his palm.
"..."
Jinhyuk blinked several times.
He wasn't wearing his glasses. Naturally, he had taken them off and left them in his bedroom before stepping into the shower. Yet his reflection in the mirror was razor-sharp. He could distinctly see every single brow hair on his forehead.
"..."
Jinhyuk raised his head and peered toward the open bathroom door. Through the crack, on the living room wall, hung the clock. He could see the slender second hand ticking away with flawless clarity.
...Huh?
That was a distance he struggled to see clearly even with his thick glasses on.
Wait.
Jinhyuk froze, towel suspended in midair.
Come to think of it, this hadn't started today. Over the past few days, subtle shifts had been stirring. He had been holding his phone farther and farther away and still reading every character without strain, and whenever he thought about putting his glasses on, an odd feeling whispered that he didn't really need them. He had simply assumed his eyes had recovered from resting in bed, but today was unmistakably bizarre.
...And that's not all.
Jinhyuk brushed his fingers along his jawline.
It was smooth.
Jinhyuk had never possessed good skin. His jaw and forehead were constantly plagued by breakouts, stinging whenever he washed his face. Having lain in bed for a week without proper washing, it should have worsened considerably. Yet there wasn't a single stinging spot on his skin.
"..."
Jinhyuk leaned in closer to inspect the mirror.
His face hadn't suddenly warped into someone else's. The boy looking back at him was unmistakably Seo Jinhyuk. And yet, the blemishes and redness had completely vanished, leaving behind an uncanny radiance. It certainly wasn't the face of someone who had starved and languished in bed for an entire week.
...My body, too.
Now that he thought about it, his limbs felt remarkably light. When someone spent a whole week lying down, getting up normally came with dizzy spells and wobbly legs. But when he slid out of bed this morning, he hadn't felt the slightest tremor.
Even now, he felt perfectly fine—in fact, he felt far more energetic and vigorous than usual.
"..."
Draping the towel over the sink basin, Jinhyuk stood there, utterly motionless.
What in the world was happening to him?