Things Only Visible When Faced
There are things that only become visible when you face them.
“Hi? Feeling better now?”
Whether in dreams or reality, causing me pain was Jin Jo-hwa’s role.
Could I really call it unchanging?
That was exactly why it terrified me more.
Because she stayed the same in dreams and in waking life, maybe reality itself could never change either.
That was the fear.
“I won’t complain about the greeting, but I’d appreciate it if you stopped hitting me. Or do you have some kind of grudge? If that’s it, just say so. I don’t like pain.”
“A grudge? Hmm— I don’t really feel anything like that.”
“You’re not saying you won’t hit me again. Anyway, is it okay to act like that in the classroom?”
“……Ah. Right. I got too caught up in the moment. Hahaha……”
Only after being called out did Jin Jo-hwa realize what she’d done wrong, glancing around to make sure the others hadn’t noticed. The one small mercy was that her rough behavior had only drawn eyes for a moment.
The classroom that had fallen silent for an instant returned to its usual noisy bustle, and Jin Jo-hwa stepped back into the center of everything as if nothing had happened, chatting and laughing with everyone. Whenever a gap opened she would look my way and smile, or toss a few words at me in between.
Once the invisible me started receiving attention from Jin Jo-hwa, I felt a lot of eyes on me.
I thought the interest would fade soon enough. It didn’t.
Jin Jo-hwa and I ended up hanging out pretty often. Maybe that was why I still felt those stares even on the way home after school.
Looking back on it now, I could finally understand just how remarkable a person Jin Jo-hwa was.
Most of the emotions packed into those countless gazes were envy and jealousy, but mixed in among them I could also feel a few that carried pure bewilderment.
How did a near-outcast like you get close to Jin Jo-hwa? That kind of look.
I spent days, then weeks, then months under that multi-layered attention.
Other people’s interest never really changed my life in any big way, but the fact that Jin Jo-hwa had brought change into it was undeniable.
Some kids started talking to me now and then, curious about how a near-outcast had become friends with her; others, driven by jealousy, pulled mean little pranks.
It wasn’t the future I’d wanted, but it wasn’t bad either. Being able to think that way was only possible because of who I am now, I suppose.
Something else that changed was the relationship between Jin Jo-hwa and me.
As time passed, the distance between us slowly narrowed.
And then, when summer vacation was almost upon us—
That incident happened.
I blinked once, and the scene in front of me transformed in an instant.
Speak of the devil and he appears, they say.
Of all days, the one I most wanted to forget—yet could never forget because the wound had cut too deep—was replaying right before my eyes.
The quiet classroom was thick with tension.
Even knowing it was a dream, the past was so vivid that I couldn’t help tensing up myself.
Cold sweat ran down my back; my heart hammered wildly.
I tried to claw back some composure, some cold rationality, but the old trauma made it nearly impossible.
Anxiety and a choking sense of dread tried to take over everything I was, and then the homeroom teacher’s voice rang through the room.
“Everyone, please pay attention.”
It was the same voice as always—only the atmosphere around it had changed.
Because the classroom was so silent, even a normal volume sounded loud.
I already knew every step of how this would unfold, yet with every second that ticked by the tension, the unease, the suffocation swelled until they tipped over into pure pain.
I couldn’t stop a low groan from escaping as my brow furrowed.
“Kh……!”
I forced the sound back down. Enduring pain is never easy.
Especially when the wound is in the heart.
I didn’t want the teacher to see the agony on my face, so I lowered my head a little and pressed my right hand against my chest, but nothing helped.
This pain was truly disgusting. I hated it.
It hurt.
That was why I never wanted to face the memories of the past.
That was why I never wanted to face Jin Jo-hwa.
But once I had met her again, whether I liked it or not I had no choice but to put a period on the relationship between us. I was sick of a reality that only kept dredging up old wounds, spoiling the mood, and leaving me exhausted.
I didn’t want to feel those old wounds anymore.
Even so, part of me still couldn’t set down the burden of pain and fear.
Just as I was hesitating, ready to run away from reality again—
I remembered the people who had told me I couldn’t keep running forever, that nothing would change unless I faced it.
They had given me courage. They had helped me.
And still I had kept dodging. Because I was that terrified, I had run and run until I hit the wall. I had worn myself out until the fatigue finally overflowed its limits. So for the sake of the life I wanted, and for the three people who had pushed me forward, given me courage, and helped me, I made a firm decision to face the past.
I made a firm decision to face Jin Jo-hwa. And now I was facing the past—yet I still couldn’t shake the fear free.
Because I had no choice but to feel the wound.
Even though, while re-living the past through the dream, I had endured so much discomfort and pain and still managed to see and feel new things, the past I was facing right now was almost unbearable. All I could do was grit my teeth and hold on.
In that unstable state, crushed by pain I could barely stand, the teacher continued speaking.
“As everyone knows, Jo-hwa’s desk and chair were covered in scribbles and knife marks. Bullying a friend is a very bad thing. And all of you already know that you shouldn’t do bad things. Yet a problem still occurred. I had hoped nothing like this would happen in our class…… but in the end it did. Now that a problem has arisen, we need to find the culprit and give them the appropriate punishment, don’t we?”
At the teacher’s final words the tension in the room climbed another notch, and anxiety layered on top of it.
While the teacher sighed and seemed to be thinking about what to do next, I snuck a glance at Jin Jo-hwa—and what I saw left me stunned.
“Jin Jo-hwa……?”
I called her name in a small voice at the sight of something I had never even imagined, but she didn’t look my way; she must not have heard.
She was gripped by extreme anxiety and tension, doing things she never normally did. That was why she hadn’t reacted to my call.
Biting her nails, legs trembling hard—Jin Jo-hwa looked serious. She was shaking with a level of tension and fear that put everyone else to shame.
Seeing a Jin Jo-hwa so completely different from the one in my memories plunged me into deep confusion.
In the past I remembered, she had never been this anxious or tense in this situation.
And I myself, even in this moment, hadn’t felt any tension or anxiety at all; I had just been staring out the window the way I always did.
Because I alone had been so detached from the surrounding unease, the chance that I had simply misremembered was low.
Then what was this?
What the hell was going on?
Was my memory wrong?
Or had I simply failed to properly register Jin Jo-hwa’s state back then?
Until the moment she was called up by the teacher, I really had only been looking out the window. But when she stood and spoke, she hadn’t been this extremely tense or anxious either.
Just what had happened?
The sudden confusion and questions began to nibble away at the huge pain, slowly stitching my wound closed.
“Jo-hwa. Could you stand up for a moment?”
The teacher called her in a gentle voice.
“Y-yes?! Ah, yes.”
Startled by the call, Jin Jo-hwa rose from her seat and looked straight at me.
“?”
Why was she looking at me?
More than that, I didn’t remember this scene existing in my past memories at all……
While I was still digging through my recollections under the growing confusion and doubt, the teacher asked her,
“Jo-hwa. You said you saw the culprit?”
“……”
“Jo-hwa?”
“…………”
Still hesitating under the teacher’s questions, Jin Jo-hwa looked at me again.
And because I happened to be looking at her at the same moment, our eyes met.
“!”
The instant our gazes locked, she hurriedly looked away.
Right. This part was burned clearly into my memory. So maybe everything before this was simply a memory I hadn’t properly registered at the time.
But I also couldn’t rule out the possibility that this dream was inventing the situation on its own.
I had no solid grounds either way.
All I could do right now was dig as deep as possible into every corner of the past.
“Jo-hwa. Don’t feel pressured. Just say it. Your friends will all understand.”
“……”
Even with the teacher’s persuasion, Jin Jo-hwa still couldn’t easily open her mouth.
“Or would you like a little more time to collect yourself?”
“…………No. I’m fine.”
At last resolve seemed to settle in her; strength entered her voice.
Even though I already knew exactly what she was about to do and what answer would come out of her mouth, I found myself looking up at her as if spellbound, while she looked down at me.
Our eyes met once more, but this time she didn’t look away.
“The culprit I saw was—”
Even as she spoke she kept that strangely charged gaze fixed on me. Her eyes—
“—the culprit I saw was………… Han…… Jo Yul.”
—looked as if they were endlessly apologizing to me.
“……”
I woke from the dream that had felt so long.
I stared up at the familiar ceiling of my room. Then I brought my right hand to my chest and unconsciously muttered,
“It doesn’t hurt that much……”
There was pain.
But compared to the wounds I had felt in the past, and the ones I had felt more recently, it was almost nothing. Strange.
Normally just recalling a little of those memories should have brought massive pain. No—until now I had believed that was how it had to be. Yet even after facing the past, what I felt was only a reduced pain.
Why?
The questions I had felt in the dream began to surface again.
The look in Jin Jo-hwa’s eyes at the very end was still vivid.
“Ah!”
Maybe because a little room had opened up in my heart, the promise I had made with Yoon Narae suddenly came back to me.
I snatched up the phone I’d left lying carelessly on the bed, typed in the password, and checked my messages. Just as promised, there was a text from Yoon Narae.
Yes, a message had come. But there was a problem.
“……”
I read it again, yet no words came out.
I’d been completely played.
I sat there wondering what to do with this unpleasant feeling that I’d been dancing in the palm of Yoon Narae’s hand the whole time.
“Haa.”
In the end I just let it go with a short sigh.
Tomorrow was the day I would put a period on my relationship with Jin Jo-hwa; I didn’t want to waste energy on anything useless.
Watching the sky turn the color of sunset, I found myself remembering the way Jo Yul always used to stare out the window.
The me of the past had never understood the side profile of Jo Yul quietly gazing at the scenery outside. I had thought that a boring, unchanging view could never make anyone feel anything. But now I thought I might understand.
The noisy roar of cars.
The cheerful chatter of students heading home.
In this moment they were all just part of a peaceful backdrop.
Just as Jo Yul had once told me, the view outside the window really was peaceful. Yet separate from that peaceful background, looking at the classroom emptying out left my heart restless.
I was so tense that I kept fidgeting with the phone in both hands, replaying the words Jo Yul had spoken that morning.
I’ve got something to say today, so stay behind in the classroom.
It had been said so casually, yet hearing it had made me truly happy.
Because Jo Yul had approached me first.
At the same time, though, I felt fear. Those words carried enormous meaning.
Let’s put a period on the bond that has continued between you and me since the past.
For me, that meaning could only be frightening and nerve-wracking.
Even if it was an oasis that never seemed to end, it would be no exaggeration to say that the human being named Jo Yul was a special friend to me. That was why I desperately wanted to atone to him and start over with him. Of course it wasn’t completely free of selfishness. But it wasn’t only selfishness either.
When I met him again, relief and joy had filled my chest, the deepest part of my heart.
When I met him again, for no clear reason he kept drawing my attention.
When I met him again, I couldn’t control the way my heart raced.
What was that feeling? I could be sure it wasn’t mere selfishness, yet I still couldn’t name what it actually was.
I had never felt anything like it before, so I had no idea what it was. Just a few days ago I had asked my big sister and Narae in order to find out.
The answer that came back was surprisingly the same from both of them.
Big sister and Narae both told me, “That’s love.”
I thought about their words.
Love?
This?
It felt a little distant from love. If it wasn’t love, then what was it?
Simple obsession?
Or possessiveness?
Was this the kind of thing people called love?
I could think of many possibilities, but I couldn’t easily decide.
Until now I had never really known myself, and that was still true.
I figured not knowing yourself well was something everyone went through.
Not knowing yourself was a normal, common problem, right?
That was how I saw it.
Knowing yourself was the hardest thing of all.
But even someone like me had one thing I could be certain of.
The wish to start my relationship with Jo Yul over again was completely sincere.
Yet that wish wasn’t something that would come true just because I alone wanted it. A good relationship, no matter how hard one side tried, would turn every effort and every moment into foam in an instant if the other person didn’t want it.
Yes. Exactly like the carefully built tower that had come crashing down all at once in the past.
I didn’t even want to imagine it, but if—just if—Jo Yul said he didn’t want to start over with me— then my wish would remain a one-sided dream forever locked inside my chest.
Even though our story hadn’t even begun yet, I was already afraid my wish might dissolve into illusion. Whatever else happened, I absolutely wanted this one wish—to start our relationship again—to come true.
While I was staring out the window, lost in heavy, tangled thoughts, Jo Yul’s voice, laced with a strange mix of emotions, came from behind me.
“Looks like you like the view outside.”
Still that emotionless tone. Yet I could feel it.
That something meaningful was contained in it.
What meaning, though?
I didn’t know.
So I spoke my true feelings.
“……Yeah. I like it. It looks peaceful somehow.”
“Now it’s just you and me left.”
At Jo Yul’s sudden words I looked around the classroom.
While I had been thinking all those things and staring outside, not only the classroom but the entire school had fallen silent.
The quiet that made it feel as if only the two of us remained in the world only heightened the tension.
“Let’s have the talk that puts a period on the past between you and me.”
Again that emotionless voice.
I couldn’t tell what Jo Yul was feeling right now.
Maybe that was why the anxiety swelled even more.
Still, I had to answer. It felt like the conversation would only truly begin once I agreed as well.
So, as if answering the tension and anxiety that kept growing, I spoke from the center of my trembling hands and wildly beating heart.
“……Yeah. Okay.”
It had been easy enough to say we should put a period on things between us, yet now we simply sat across a single desk from each other in that strange atmosphere, looking at one another and maintaining only a quiet silence.
“……”
“……”
Time hadn’t stopped, and the silence stretched on.
I somehow had to break it, but it wasn’t as easy as it sounded. I even knew the method for breaking the silence.
The method was simple.
I would ask questions and Jin Jo-hwa would answer; if we started the conversation that way, it would begin naturally and end naturally.
But I didn’t know how to get the first words out.
Was it because I had faced the past?
Most of the negative emotions I had aimed at Jin Jo-hwa had disappeared; what remained were only a tiny handful of negative feelings and a huge question.
Before facing the past, I had poured every emotion Jin Jo-hwa had created in me straight at her in a single line.
I hadn’t thought about how much it would hurt her.
Compared to the wounds she had given me, I had told myself it was nothing, and with words and actions driven by emotion I had given her wounds both large and small. But the feelings I had toward her now weren’t anger or betrayal. Of course not every negative emotion had vanished.
Maybe the me of now felt a little sorry for the fact that the me who couldn’t face the past had hurt Jin Jo-hwa. And maybe the self-reproach that came from words and actions that had broken my own principles, plus the sense that the old me who couldn’t face the past had been foolish and pathetic, was what made it so hard to decide how to begin and left me hesitating.
But.
Even so.
We had to put a period on it.
“Jin Jo-hwa.”
“Y-yeah?”
The tension and anxiety in her answer came through clearly, but I couldn’t waste any more time. So I spoke without hesitation.
“What happened back then?”
“……”
Jin Jo-hwa bit down hard on her lower lip, brow furrowed; she looked tormented.
What exactly was tormenting her?
I wasn’t Jin Jo-hwa, so I couldn’t know. But I could guess the reason she was suffering.
I thought it was because of self-reproach.
She had felt regret over the past she herself had caused, and that regret had turned into self-reproach. Then that self-reproach had changed once more and become a wound. That was why every time she recalled the past she must have been hurt, endlessly fighting herself.
In the middle of that suffering, desperately fighting herself, Jin Jo-hwa seemed to be saying:
I have to endure!
I have to endure this wound!
Only by enduring this wound and winning the fight against myself can I take even one step forward!
I couldn’t guess what meaning that “one step forward” might hold.
It might contain a single meaning, or maybe two. It might hold countless meanings and emotions and thoughts and resolutions and decisions beyond that.
The only thing I could be sure of was that we had to put a period on the relationship between Jin Jo-hwa and me.
So I asked again.
“Then let me change the question a little. Why did you lie back then? I never bullied you. That’s a fact both you and I know better than anyone. Right?”
“Yeah……”
Even with the heavy guilt in Jin Jo-hwa’s answer, I paid it no mind and continued.
“So the ‘truth’ you spoke in front of everyone back then was actually a lie. Right?”
“…………”
Jin Jo-hwa nodded at my question; she was trembling so hard it was pitiful to watch.
She was trembling because of guilt. No—more precisely, I thought it was because of the emotion born inside that guilt.
Was she trembling from anger?
From anxiety?
Or from some emotion I couldn’t even begin to imagine?
The one thing I could be certain of was that both she and I must have had countless emotions crossing through us.
“Hoo, haa.”
After a short breath I threw the question at her.
“Tell me why you lied back then. Tell me the truth of the past.”
“…………”
Still biting her lip, unable to speak the truth and only maintaining silence, Jin Jo-hwa slowly raised her head and, forcing herself to sound bright and unaffected, said,
“Okay. Just like you want, I’ll tell you what the truth of our past really was.”
And so the story of the truth raised its curtain.