CHAPTER 001
It was almost inconceivable.
The night hung heavy in an eerie, unnatural stillness. Elongated shadows slithered across the walls of her room, cast by a wan moon that struggled to illuminate the farthest corners. Yet even the silence couldn't veil the sound she had just heard—
The tall boy exited the room, his figure rigid with fury, and the door crashed shut behind him with a resounding thud that reverberated through the walls.
I lay still, barely breathing. My heart pounded violently, as if it wished to tear through my chest. The air was cold and heavy, pressing against my skin like invisible hands. Something was profoundly wrong.
I never imagined things would unravel like this. Everything felt shattered.
A white shirt lay crumpled in the corner. Blood trickled from her left-hand finger, and her knees bore scrapes and bruises.
A soft breeze drifted in. She closed her eyes. Amid her sobs, past quarrels played like echoes in her mind.
I wished I could return to the past and rewrite it all. Yet, deep within, I knew—I loved those memories too. I didn't truly want to erase them. I wanted to disappear instead.
The place buzzed with noise—children laughing, arguing, and playing. A dusty storeroom cluttered with steel objects became the scene of cruelty.
"Bang! Bang!" followed by laughter. A small child knelt on the floor, cheeks red from crying. A group of girls stood before her, their expressions glowing with cruel satisfaction.
Some had chubby cheeks, others chewed gum, and all looked stronger and older than the little girl. One of them picked up a piece of wood, stepping before the trembling child.
The child raised her head slowly, her eyes swollen and red. Their gazes met.
"Byeol, Byeol... what should I do with you? You're too stubborn—and I don't like that," one girl sneered.
Another spoke with a harsh, commanding voice. "Next time you defy us, you'll see what we're capable of."
Byeol pressed her lips tightly together, small hands balled into fists. She kept her eyes low, fighting not to cry. Footsteps faded as they walked away.
Silence returned. Even the fall of a leaf could have been heard. Her sobs broke the stillness. Minutes later, she rose on shaky legs, fear etched into her face, and walked out of the storeroom.
Inside the orphanage, the noise of other children resumed. Byeol's swollen face had slightly faded. As she reached the gate, she overheard a conversation between the caregiver and two unfamiliar voices. She didn't understand, so she tried to slip past.
Her eyes caught sight of a man, and panic surged. She turned to run—splash!—she fell. A woman rushed to help her, but Byeol stood up quickly.
The woman's gentle voice reached her. "Child, are you hurt?"
"I'm okay, don't worry, Aunty," she replied in a soft voice.
The caretaker added, "Don't worry, Mrs. Ha Yoon. She's alright."
The woman knelt beside her. "What's your name, child?"
Byeol answered, "My name is Byeol." Her bright brown eyes shimmered with tears. Then, as if trying to assure them, she flashed a long, glowing smile. "You're really kind, Aunty."
though unfamiliar with the cause, could not overlook the tension in the girl's expression. There was no spoken explanation, but the woman's intuition stirred. It wasn't hard to surmise that the child was enduring silent hardships within the orphanage walls.
Still, what captivated her most were the girl's eyes—large, luminous, and the color of burnished chestnuts. They held an unsettling mix of innocence and sorrow, as if they'd seen too much for someone so young.
---
Fourteen Years Later
Footsteps echoed down the stairs.
"Aunty, I'm leaving for school!" Byeol called.
From the kitchen, her aunt replied, "Have breakfast before you go, Byeol!"
"Please hurry, I'm late!" she said, sitting at the table.
Another set of footsteps descended. A tall young man entered the room—sharp jawline, broad shoulders, every step commanding presence. He sat across from her without a word, sparing only a glance before turning his attention to the one cooking.
Splash! A glass of water fell, drenching his uniform. His clenched jaw and narrowed eyes betrayed his irritation, though his face remained composed.
In her hurry, Byeol had knocked over the glass. Her eyes widened.
"I'm so sorry—" she began, but the cook had already turned.
"Joon Young! Can't you be more careful?" her aunt scolded sharply.
"No, Aunty. It was my fault," Byeol said quickly, bowing her head in guilt.
"It's okay, Byeol. I know it was an accident. Just eat and get going."
Byeol smiled gratefully. As she lifted her head, the chair across from her scraped against the floor. Joon Young stood and walked out, tension following his steps.
Her aunt sighed. "What should I do with my one and only son?" she muttered, sitting beside her with a weary hand on her forehead.
Byeol ran to catch her bus, but suddenly stopped—her wrist seized in a firm grip.
Joon Young.
He stared at her, jaw clenched. "Don't call me brother. You're not my sister."
She tried to explain, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"
His eyes burned with fury as he flung her hand away.
"This is your last warning. Don't talk to me. Don't come near me. Just… stay out of my way."
He walked away without turning back.
Byeol stood frozen.
If you hate me so much, why were you once so kind to me? Why did you laugh with me, protect me, make me believe I mattered to you?
She pressed her lips shut, burying her words.
He had changed.