6
Chapter 6: Author’s Intent
Before first period began, Han Yuri called Do Min-Oh to the front of the classroom with a stern expression.
“Why did you write something like that?”
She wasn’t foolish.
She knew his diary was a public attack disguised as art, and from the students’ reactions, she had already figured out
who the target was.
She also knew why he had written it.
But Park Hyunsoo, who had become a laughingstock in front of the entire class, was now burying his face in his desk,
silently crying. So she decided to reprimand Min-Oh first.
At the same time, she intended to scold all the students who had mocked Hyunsoo after the opportunity arose.
That was why she handled this in front of the entire class.
The students sensed her intention and sat stiffly, watching her.
She was usually all smiles, so this serious expression carried even more weight.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”
Standing before the desk, Min-Oh lowered his head like a guilty person and admitted fault.
“What exactly did you do wrong?”
Normally, she would have softened at a simple apology, but not this time.
“I wrote something that I knew would upset someone, and I still chose to present it.”
“So you knew it would upset Hyunsoo?”
“Yes.”
“And you did it anyway?”
“Yes.”
“That makes you a bad child, doesn’t it?”
Han Yuri had high expectations for him, and she didn’t want to let this slide.
“I’m sorry.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yes.”
“No. You’re lying. You knew this would happen and still did it. That’s really bad!”
His apology sounded convincing, but to an adult, it lacked sincerity.
It felt like a convenient ending, a hollow apology.
‘Such a cunning child.’
As his teacher, and someone who had praised him endlessly just yesterday, she wanted to correct this.
Her voice rose without her realizing.
Even teachers from other classes stepped into the hallway, surprised.
“…Hah.”
“Did you just sigh?”
“Can I be honest?”
Min-Oh lifted his head, his expression no longer submissive. There was dissatisfaction in his eyes.
‘This kid…’
She had dealt with disobedient children before, but never one who spoke back like this.
“Go ahead.”
“I really wrote it because I was envious.”
“What?”
“I didn’t write it to upset Hyunsoo. I wrote my honest feelings. I only apologized because he got upset, the class
mocked him, and you got angry.”
‘He’s really going to push this to the end…’
For the first time in her career, Han Yuri felt the urge to strike a student.
She tightly gripped his diary.
But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“Those lines about being handsome, slim, and smart weren’t to brag. No matter how much I act proud, I’m still an
orphan.”
His poem had started with Hyunsoo, but now the focus had shifted.
Hyunsoo, who had begun as the aggressor, had ended up as the victim.
And compared to Min-Oh, he was outmatched.
At least, that’s how she had judged it.
But Min-Oh pointed out the flaw in that thinking.
“The reason I became smarter than others is because I’m an orphan. Other kids don’t need to be as smart as me. They
won’t be abandoned. That’s why I wrote ‘parents who don’t abandon’ instead of ‘parents who didn’t abandon.’”
“What?”
“No matter how smart or good-looking I am, I was abandoned. The first time, I couldn’t do anything. The second time, I
did my best—and still got abandoned. But Hyunsoo won’t ever go through that. That’s what I envied. Even if you’re ugly,
fat, or stupid—you won’t be abandoned.”
Han Yuri, kind but inexperienced, couldn’t bring herself to scold him.
“And there’s something you and the class are misunderstanding. Hyunsoo wasn’t the only one who mocked me. There are
twenty orphans in this school. How many kids do you think have mocked them?”
She was kind, but not a good teacher when it came to truly protecting them.
To put it harshly, she had been hypocritical.
“I’m honestly confused. How can you laugh at Hyunsoo? You should be laughing at me, like always. Or you should reflect
on yourselves.”
“Reflect?”
“Like realizing how wrong it was. That you had nothing but parents. That you mocked someone better than you.”
His poem was both a weapon and a shield.
“But I’m not someone to be pitied.”
He wasn’t seeking sympathy.
“The ones to pity are those who don’t even know how wrong it is to mock an orphan. That’s why you punished them lightly.
Because you thought they didn’t know.”
She had just said earlier that knowing made it worse.
But even ignorance didn’t make it right.
‘He’s right… but then what about me…’
Her shoulders dropped.
“Interpret my poem however you want. But the conclusion isn’t that being handsome and smart makes up for not having
parents. And it’s not that Hyunsoo is trash. It’s simply—live. Whether you’re an orphan or not.”
She was twenty-six. Still immature.
But old enough to understand his words.
The students, though young, also understood.
Even Hyunsoo, who had been clenching his fists, waiting for revenge.
‘Yeah… it wasn’t just me…’
He felt relief that he hadn’t been singled out.
“But there’s one thing. Maybe God made us this way, but teachers and parents shouldn’t stay the same.”
The real target of his words wasn’t the children.
‘He really is something.’
Han Yuri, who had been disappointed, felt admiration again.
The teachers in the hallway were equally stunned.
The students, even more so.
Some wanted to approach him but hesitated.
Some admired him from afar.
Some were confused.
But overall, their feelings tilted toward him.
‘He’s cool…’
The ones most moved, however, were the orphanage children.
“But… I feel kind of happy.”
Min-Oh broke the silence.
“Happy?”
“I don’t have to worry about being abandoned anymore. I don’t have to walk on eggshells. And now, I can fight back.”
“What?”
“At first, I didn’t want to. Being abandoned twice was enough. But then I realized—I have nothing to lose. I’m already
at rock bottom.”
His voice and expression were bright.
“Back then, I only did what I was told. But now, I can do what I want. Say what I want.”
‘That apology… it wasn’t empty…’
Han Yuri finally understood.
“I lived like something without emotions, without judgment. But not anymore. Because I have a teacher who listens, and
friends who will accept me.”
“…I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.”
The teachers in the hallway nodded.
The students did too.
Though Min-Oh had carefully calculated everything, the reflection it created was real.
‘This is how it should’ve been.’
This life was already more human than his first.
‘This way, the orphans here will be treated better.’
He hadn’t spoken to show off.
He had spoken to change something.
And maybe, just maybe, fewer children would grow up not knowing right from wrong.