The Storm Came Suddenly
The storm came suddenly.
Because Jo-hwa went to her academy every Friday, Fridays had turned into something special for me.
They were free days, pure and simple.
My body suddenly went limp, strength draining out of me—probably spring fever—and I wanted nothing more than to take things slow. So I planned to leave school late.
Winter had long since left, and plenty of time had passed. Spring fever now, of all times? Was my self-management falling apart?
I stared out the window, forcibly denying the brain that kept whining about how tired it was.
Then.
The classroom door opened quietly, yet no one appeared.
Someone’s prank?
I wasn’t particularly interested, so I kept gazing outside—until labored breathing reached me from somewhere.
“Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah......”
“?”
Just from the panting I could tell how hard it was. Dragging my languid body over to the door to see what was going on, I found Yoon Narae collapsed and gasping for air.
Cold sweat beading on her skin, breathing rough and rapid, Yoon Narae clutched her heart tightly with her right hand.
What the hell......? This doesn’t seem like a joke.
It was far too serious for a prank, and this sudden typhoon of a situation blew away every last scrap of the leisure I’d been enjoying.
It was so different from any Yoon Narae I’d ever seen that I was more than a little shaken. I simply didn’t let it show.
“Yoon Narae. I’ll go get the teacher, so just hang on a second.”
“Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah......”
There was none of the easy composure she always answered with—except when she was teasing me.
With every second that ticked by I could feel how serious her condition was. Was this what they called instinct?
I started to rise quickly to run for the teachers’ office when a small, trembling hand seized mine.
“I’m..., fine, so, hah! Hah! Hah! Don’t go to the...... teachers’ office!”
“Do you even know what kind of state you’re in?!”
“Of course...... I do! My body—better than anyone—I know it......! So please............!”
Even though speaking itself was a struggle, where that stubbornness came from I had no idea; she never once let go of my hand.
Looking at Narae—trembling hands, unfocused eyes that wavered as she forced herself to meet my gaze—I fell into a dilemma over what choice to make.
Why was Yoon Narae telling me not to inform the teacher?
Was it a chronic condition?
Would she recover if given time?
Or would calling the teacher—or dialing 119—be the wiser move?
Faced with this fragile side of Yoon Narae I’d never witnessed before, I wrestled with the decision, and in the end I had no choice but to pull out my smartphone.
Without ever releasing her hand, gripping it tightly the whole time.
I sat on a bench in front of the hospital, wetting my dry throat with soda.
To cut to the chase, Yoon Narae’s condition was worse than I’d expected. Fortunately, calling the ambulance first and then contacting the homeroom teacher proved the right call, and we avoided anything truly dangerous.
From the snatches of conversation I overheard between the homeroom teacher and the doctor, her heart was in bad shape—yet she was so stubborn that to the very end she kept my hand locked in hers, insisting she was fine, that there was no need for an ambulance, no need to bother the teacher, and that I shouldn’t make a big fuss over nothing. It must have been agony for her. So why the hell did she dig her heels in like that?
“Ah.”
The drink that had been moistening my throat was gone. Two hundred forty milliliters simply wasn’t enough. I bought a bottle of water from the vending machine and started drinking.
Then.
“So this is where you were?”
“Is everything finished?”
“Yeah. Thankfully she got past the worst of it. Narae’s parents were so grateful.”
Before sitting down, the homeroom teacher bought a bottle of water from the same machine and settled beside me. Then she began gulping it down.
Her throat had to be drier than mine. She was someone with a fierce sense of responsibility for her job, and there were adult circumstances to consider. Above all, she loved and cared for every single student in Class 1-3.
After wetting her throat, the homeroom teacher looked at me and spoke again.
“Narae’s mother was incredibly thankful—why did you slip away?”
The first person to come running the moment she heard about Yoon Narae was her mother. After hearing the whole story from the homeroom teacher, she came straight to me and thanked me over and over. Since my people skills were already terrible, I put on a polite, empty smile, offered a few hollow words, and quietly made my exit.
“I’m not really comfortable in situations like that.”
The homeroom teacher gave me a warm smile and studied me intently.
“?”
“I’d love to see Jo Yul living a lively youth, laughing and chatting noisily with friends.”
What was she trying to say all of a sudden?
“Pardon?”
“She said you were the second.”
“The second what?”
“The friend who saved Narae.”
“......”
She flipped the conversation in an instant, and an unexpected connection spilled out. Who would have guessed a coincidence like this existed.
“Who’s the first?”
“Someone named Jo-hwa, apparently.”
“......”
“Judging by the lack of reaction, you already had a rough idea, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. More importantly, how’s Yoon Narae’s condition? From what I overheard, it doesn’t sound like she’ll be able to come to school tomorrow.”
“Ugh......”
The homeroom teacher let out a deep sigh, took another sip of water, and only after a long moment spoke again.
“Thanks to you we got past the crisis, but her condition still isn’t good. They said we need to keep watching her and run more tests for at least two more days. What’s the crime in being young and pretty that she’s already this sick?”
After saying something that didn’t quite match her age, she stared up at the empty air and sighed once more. I asked her,
“Isn’t being a teacher hard?”
“?”
It must have been unexpected; her eyes went round.
That made sense. I deliberately tried not to take much interest in other people. That was why I’d never had friends. For someone like me to show interest in the homeroom teacher—of course she was surprised.
I was surprised too.
Why did I ask that?
“Unexpected. For you to ask something like that.”
“......”
I had nothing to say. I didn’t know the exact reason myself. I could only call it instinct. That was all. So I stayed silent and looked straight ahead.
“It is hard. The kids don’t listen, there’s endless work, and I have to take responsibility for more than thirty of them alone. Whose grades changed how, whether they got into trouble, what happened, whether school life is going smoothly. And dealing with every single parent. There’s so much to keep track of. But for all of that, once the know-how piles up, when you look back later the answers appear. Things like today, though—there’s no answer, nothing is visible at all—so those are the most painful.”
An adult I could trust and follow. The homeroom teacher who always seemed strong, unshakable, capable of solving anything was showing a fragile side. Even watching her so deeply dejected, my trust didn’t fade. If anything, it grew firmer. Because the face she was showing me right now meant she was being completely sincere.
“I can’t offer any proper comfort, but hang in there.”
With that I tossed the empty water bottle into the trash. Then, as I was about to sling my bag over my shoulder and head home, something occurred to me.
“Oh, right. Please don’t contact Jo-hwa. If it has to be done, I’ll handle it myself. Though I don’t even know if Yoon Narae would want that.”
“All right.”
“Then take care on your way.”
“Wait!”
I was about to turn without a second thought when the homeroom teacher’s urgent call spun me back around.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“You’re late today.”
For some reason my sister was home.
“Yeah. Something came up on the way.”
“Why’s your face like that? Did something bad happen?”
Something bad had happened. But that wasn’t the reason.
First I’d been shocked by the homeroom teacher’s ridiculously expensive-looking car, and second by her driving style.
“You okay?”
“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
I answered roughly, went into my room, and threw my bag into the corner without even taking off my uniform. Then I sat in the chair and sank into thought for a moment.
Would it be better to tell Jo-hwa about this?
Or
leave it for Yoon Narae to handle herself?
If it had been the me of not long ago, this wouldn’t even have been a question worth considering. Now it was different.
I kept fiddling with my smartphone and finally decided to leave a text.
On the way home after academy, Jin Jo-hwa checked her smartphone out of habit.
Maybe someone messaged me?
She held that small hope.
“!”
Her expectation only swelled further at the sight of Jo Yul’s text.
She hurriedly opened it to see what it said—and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Taxi!”
She flagged down a taxi that was just passing and headed straight for the hospital where Yoon Narae was.
Her expression was the complete opposite of the one she’d worn before reading the message. Her right leg bounced restlessly as she kept fidgeting with her phone.
Because one particular incident from middle school had risen up, vivid and sharp, in her mind.