The school was unusually quiet that morning—quieter than I had ever heard it.
Just silence.
A silence that felt like punishment.
Everyone moved slowly, heads bent low, eyes shifting with fear—fear of something no one was allowed to talk about.
Hae's death.
The rumors spread faster than the morning bell. Some said he failed his exam and couldn't take it. Others said he'd been acting strange. Some even whispered that he was always alone anyway.
All lies.
Every single one.
I kept standing at the exact spot where they found him, replaying the memory in my head—his body hanging from that old tree, the same clothes he wore when he met me the night before, and those words he wanted to tell me but I refused to hear.
My heart clenched painfully.
Students stood in groups, heads bowed—not out of respect, but out of fear. Teachers walked stiffly, pretending everything was normal. But it wasn't. Nothing was normal.
Before noon, the school assembly bell rang again—but the sound was different. Heavy. Alarm-like.
We were all ordered to gather at the large hall.
The principal came in with two police officers and the school board. The microphone screeched before she spoke—but even the sound couldn't cut through the tension in that room.
"Due to the sudden death of one of our students," she began, her voice shaky, "and for the sake of everyone's safety, the school will be closing immediately. All students are to return home. Resumption date will be communicated after thorough… investigations."
Investigations?
I almost laughed.
What investigation?
The school didn't even wait for Hae's body to be taken down before they started calling it "suicide."
Students murmured in confusion. Some were happy—an unexpected break. Some were confused. Some cried. But me?
I felt sick.
My stomach churned. My head hurt. And something inside me kept screaming that this was all wrong.
I left the hall slowly, feeling the world tilt around me. My room was already half-empty—Jan had left without even saying goodbye. Everyone was rushing, packing, calling home.
I stood in my doorway for a long while before snapping out of it.
I packed my bag slowly, my hands shaking every time I thought of Hae's face.
He trusted me.
He wanted to tell me something.
And I pushed him away.
I zipped my bag and took one last look around the room—the broken window, the cupboard where Yen's notebook hid secrets
Everything felt heavy.
Too heavy.
Before I left, I sent a quick message to my mom:
Mom, I'm coming home. I'll explain when I get there.
And that was it.
I walked out of the room, out of the hostel, and out of the school that suddenly looked more like a crime scene than a place of learning.
My mom arrived earlier than expected—she must have broken every traffic light on the way. She rushed to me, pulling me into her arms before I could even breathe.
"Jina! Oh my, what happened? I've been worried sick!"
But I couldn't speak.
I didn't know where to start.
I just stood there, letting her hug me tighter.
We left the school, and the entire road home felt like a blur—cars, traffic, noise, people—but none of it entered my head.
My body was in the car, but my mind was still under that tree, staring at Hae.
We got home.
Mom opened the door gently.
I dropped my bag and walked straight to my room without a word.
I locked the door and collapsed on the floor.
The pain hit me hard.
Not physical pain—but the kind that burns inside your chest and makes you question everything. The kind that makes breathing feel like punishment.
I sat there for hours, maybe more, shaking, remembering, regretting.
Every thought returned to the same point:
Hae tried to tell me something.
He wanted to tell me something.
And now he was gone.
My phone vibrated—it was Mom calling me for lunch. I ignored it. But she knew me too well. Moments later, she opened my door softly, carrying a tray.
"Jina," she said gently, walking to me. "You need to eat something."
"Mum… I'm not hungry."
She sighed, placed the tray on my table, then sat beside me.
"Sweetheart, I know you're hurting. I know this is too much for you. But you need to calm down. The school said he had problems with his papers, and that he has been depressed for a long time."
"No."
My voice cracked.
"No, Mum. He wasn't depressed. He didn't look depressed yesterday. He was scared—yes—but not depressed."
Her eyes widened. "Yesterday? You saw him yesterday?"
I swallowed.
The guilt came back like a slap.
"Yes, Mum… I saw him. I'm probably the last person he talked to before he died."
My mom froze. "What did he tell you?"
"He wanted to tell me something. Something big. Something about Yen… and Eunwoo… and the school. But I told him to wait till the weekend."
My voice broke at the last word.
"Oh Jina…" she whispered, pulling me into her arms.
"It's not your fault. You didn't know. You tried your best."
"No! I didn't!" I cried.
"I didn't listen. And now he's gone. What if someone else was there? What if someone heard us? What if—"
"Jina, stop."
Her voice firmed.
"This is not your fault."
But her words couldn't drown the guilt.
Mom stood up, tapped my back, and said softly, "Eat a little, okay? Later we'll go out for fresh air."
She closed the door quietly.
I stared at the food.
Normal food.
But it looked like poison.
How was I supposed to eat when all I saw was Hae's lifeless eyes?
Time passed—I don't even know how much—before something clicked in my head.
Everyone was gone.
The school was empty.
No eyes watching.
No teachers spying.
No fake rules.
Just silence.
This was the chance.
The one chance I would get to return and investigate
My heart started beating fast. I looked at the window.
If I left through the door, Mom would stop me.
But the window…
Yes. The window.
I put on my black cap, tied my shoelaces, and grabbed my phone.
Before leaving, I looked around my room one last time, as if expecting someone to stop me.
No one did.
I pushed my window open quietly, climbed out, and landed softly on the ground.
This was it.
And I wasn't ready—
Not even a little—
For what I was going back to the school to discover.