Chapter 40: Fantasy in the middle of the night

2:30 PM.

The loud cicadas make my whole body feel sluggish. As always, a boring lesson drags on under the oppressive heat.

It feels like time has stopped, but the second hand on the clock ticks forward without rest, as sharp as a needle.

It’s another sweltering day, the sun so relentless it feels cursed.

The air conditioning in the classroom is slightly too cold, sending a chill through the room.

On the wooden platform, the pot-bellied history teacher is passionately lecturing about Japan’s brutal invasion during the colonial era, sweating under the summer heat, but I’m not listening.

Or rather, I can’t bring myself to listen.

Golden hair catches the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, glowing brilliantly.

It stands out starkly among the dark black-haired students.

I keep staring at it, and perhaps noticing my gaze, she turns to me and returns it with a soft smile. Her clear green eyes shimmer like fresh summer leaves, filled only with pure goodwill.

I falter.

My hand clenches into a tight fist without even realizing it.

I had asked for help last night, blurting it out impulsively like I was drunk.

Now I hesitate.

I keep wavering. Repeating doubts spin me in every direction like a broken compass.

I avert my gaze from Izana, who continues to stare directly at my troubled face.

She really does seem to want to be my friend, but no matter how nicely I try to phrase it, the truth is I’m just using her—using her power.

Just trying to get my broken life back together, even if it might destroy hers in the process.

It’s the height of cowardice. I know I deserve every insult for it.

But still… I can’t help it. I’ve always been this despicable. Dirty and selfish. I just used to hide it better.

“Hmm…”

Beside me, Seon-ah fiddles with my right hand where the teacher can’t see.

She bends my index finger and straightens it, lightly scratches my stiff palm with her nail—like a cat playing with a toy, her fingers move restlessly.

At a glance, it might seem pure and innocent, even cute.

But then I see it—the deep blue bruise in the shape of a handprint peeking out from the collar of her white blouse.

That damning mark stabs at what little remains of my conscience. Still, I don’t even have the right to say it hurts.

My chest feels like it’s caved in. Am I really feeling guilty now?

How ridiculous.

If I was going to regret it anyway, I should have just killed her back then.

If the friendship wasn’t something I could protect, if I couldn’t become a better person, then I should’ve just embraced the darkness.

At least that would’ve been honest. Not this—this hypocritical mess of a person I’ve become.

I know it’s all too late now. Still, that’s what regret is. It comes after the fact, uninvited.

Human hearts really are cruel.

That day, when my sister got hit by the car instead of me—if only it had been me. If only I had died right then and there.

“I’m going to the restroom.”

At exactly 2:50, the bell rings, ending the overheated class abruptly.

The classroom bursts into noise again. Stupid chatter about celebrities and dating gossip. Amid the noise, Seon-ah lightly taps my shoulder and walks off.

I stare blankly at my now-free right hand. There’s still a faint warmth lingering.

Then, suddenly lifting my head and looking around, I see everyone else happily chatting with someone.

I’m wearing the same stiff uniform as them, yet I sit alone in the cramped corner by the window, like I don’t belong in this space.
I’m the only one. Just me.

I thought I’d gotten closer to my classmates after becoming class president, but now no one even tries to approach me.

Not because they’re shunning me—but because I was the one who drove them away.

Because to Kang Seon-ah, a “friend” had to be the only one.
Just as I was her only friend, she had to be my only friend too.

Is this karma?
No… It’s more like things are just going back to where they belong. Someone like me is best suited for a lonely seat like this. A place where only solitude piles up.

“Good afternoon, Sia. Lovely day, isn’t it?”
“…Yeah.”

Even though I’m supposed to be alone, Izana approaches without hesitation.

Her lips, tinged slightly red like lipstick, part softly. She leans close to my ear and whispers.

“After homeroom, come to the music room—the one we talked about before. I’ll help you.”

“I…”

Izana beams like a sunflower in full bloom.

I force myself to meet her green eyes, but quickly look away. She’s too kind.
And that kindness only deepens my guilt.

The makeshift words I’d prepared shatter into silence, my lips sealed shut.

There’s so much I want to say, so much I should say—but in the end, I hide behind cowardly silence.

Still, both she and I understand perfectly what that silence means.

Izana gently pats my head. Not like a friend, but with the tenderness of a lover.

“You’ll come, right?”

Self-loathing.

In the end, I slowly nod my head—and I think I’ve never hated myself more.