Prologue Story

I poured my frustration into magic.

I focused on combat training, emphasizing offense more than usual, channeling all my stress into it.

If not that, I would devour books haphazardly.

Using speed-reading glasses, I could finish dozens of books in a day.

When I did that, my mind would become overwhelmingly preoccupied, even if forced.

Immersing myself in books allowed me to erase emotions, even if only temporarily.

It was the method I had relied on for a long time to handle stress.

For someone like me, who was excellent at controlling emotions, this was the best I could do.

My friends, however, suffered even more.

Han-soo and Hyun-ho couldn’t calm down before confronting Shia, fighting him properly on their own terms.

“Seriously, who does that guy think he is?”

Han-soo shouted in front of us, venting his frustration.

While I was accustomed to suppressing my emotions, my friends expressed theirs freely and without restraint.

When I realized that the two of them had gone to confront Shia in anger, I was taken aback.

But I couldn’t bring myself to scold them.

After all, just as Shia felt miserable, it was natural for them to feel angry.

“What makes him different from us? What’s so different about him that we can’t understand? All I want is to be friends with him—why is that impossible?”

Min-hee suddenly clutched her forehead with both hands, her voice trembling with frustration.

“Why can’t it just be like that?”

Her voice was so filled with sorrow that I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly before finally speaking.

“It’s because people being different from one another… is completely natural.”

Han-soo flared up at that. Everyone, who had been hanging their heads, lifted them.

“What?”

“There are countless people in the world, each with different appearances and personalities.

And we’re no different, are we?”

“But we’re still friends, aren’t we? We’ve always been close! What’s the difference? What makes him different? What is it that we don’t understand?”

I closed my eyes quietly.

People are different from one another.

Some seem superior, while others appear lacking.

When someone is so far above you that they seem unreachable, you don’t even feel inferior to them.

You just think, “Oh, they’re like that,” or “I wish I could be like them,” and admire them.

For me, it was as though everyone else was too far removed from me.

Eventually, I gave up comparing myself to others.

Instead, I learned to articulate everything I experienced physically or emotionally through books—by reading them and writing them.

With my hands clasped as if in prayer, I pressed them to my forehead, closed my eyes, and continued.

“Shia said… he feels miserable. Have you ever felt that kind of misery?”

Han-soo would surely get angry with me.

But I spoke in a calm, low voice, continuing softly.

“Misery feels like this.

Why does that person have it so easy, while I struggle so much?

Why is that person so beautiful, while I’m so unattractive?

Why do they have so many people around them, while I’m all alone?

I work hard at studying too, so why is it that they’re rich and in first place while I’m poor and in second?

Even though I try harder, why can they effortlessly achieve what I can’t no matter how hard I try?”

Inferiority—it’s something I’ve rarely felt.

That’s because I killed those feelings before they could even arise.

I could persevere and live without despair because I focused on a single goal.

How could I not understand misery or inferiority?

I simply buried all those emotions deep within my chest before they could take root and erased them.

Timid, unremarkable, and ordinary me.

The only thing that makes me somewhat better now is my talent for magic.

In my past life, I was dull and friendless.

It’s no wonder I couldn’t believe in myself; I wasn’t even average—I was below it.

That’s why I clung even harder to novels.

Only ‘writing’ and ‘stories’ were everything to me.

I’m sure even Shia doesn’t understand this feeling.

Shia is different from me because he couldn’t erase his feelings of inferiority.

It’s something everyone might have, yet not everyone understands.

“Everyone has their pride.

When you realize you’re not as good as someone else, that pride makes you angry, frustrated, and want to cry.

That’s what inferiority is.

And when it gets worse, it turns into resentment—‘Why me? Why only me?’

That’s what misery is.”

I opened my eyes.

I lowered my hands from my forehead, gazing intently at Han-soo with sincerity.

Rising from my seat, I looked at him coldly.

“Have you ever truly felt that you are inferior to someone else?

That it’s not just someone being better than you, but that you are worse than them?

Have you ever really felt that?”

Of course not.

Unlike me, these kids were born with extraordinary talent.

There’s no way they could’ve felt such emotions.

It wasn’t that I wanted to make a big deal out of these feelings.

But watching Han-soo insist that there was no difference, while being unaware of such emotions, made me feel indignant.

Han-soo stared at me in shock, his eyes wide.

Hyun-ho’s pupils quivered slightly.

A deathly silence, like that of a tomb, enveloped the room.

It was probably the first time I had looked at my friends with such cold eyes.

I lowered my gaze and sat back down.

Moments later, Han-soo burst out in frustration.

“So, you’re saying we should just leave Shia alone? Is that it?”

“No. It’s just….”

I bit my lip tightly.

“Don’t say we’re the same. Don’t say you understand.

With our talent, we’ll never be able to understand Shia.

Just… wait until the emotions settle down.

Sorry, I… I don’t even know what to do….”

My words tumbled out disjointedly.

I understood Han-soo’s feelings.

It’s infuriating to just leave things to time and do nothing.

But neither misery nor inferiority are things we, as outsiders, can resolve.

Min-hee whispered softly.

“…I see.”

“…”

We turned to look at Min-hee.

Tears welled up in her glistening eyes.

“So this is what misery feels like.

I can’t help it, but it hurts so much…!

This feeling… it’s unbearable.

Shia must’ve been feeling this way every day when looking at us, right?!”

Min-hee burst into tears.

I saw In-ha approach her to comfort her.

Watching that for a moment, I opened the door and stepped outside.

I flinched in surprise.

I hadn’t noticed any sound or presence.

Senior Ji-hyun was standing there.

I glanced back into the room briefly before quickly closing the door.

Then, I headed toward the kitchen.

Senior Ji-hyun followed me quietly, suppressing his footsteps.

I opened the refrigerator, took out a water bottle, and poured water into a glass.

“I more or less understand the situation.”

“…”

“In the end, that’s how it is.

You can’t deal with emotions you’ve never experienced yourself.

Even I… I understand misery now, but not inferiority.”

Placing the water bottle back into the fridge, I set the glass of water on the kitchen table and sat down.

“Shia’s talent isn’t ordinary either.

But compared to you guys, it’s probably lacking.

I did suspect as much.”

I gulped down the cold water.

My head throbbed slightly.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

Placing the now-empty glass on the table, I sat back.

“You little one.”

Senior Ji-hyun placed his hand on my head.

“How did you come to understand misery?”

I quietly lowered my head.

Rising from my seat, I quickly walked away from his gaze.

I flung open the front door and stepped outside.

The chilly wind greeted me.

I squatted down in front of the door, resting my face on my arms atop my knees.

Listening to the sound of the wind, I thought.

Yes, I knew.

This was the time to “let go.”

Just as I had done before, only now with an even greater sense of urgency.

It was that moment when people grew distant from one another.

While the other party couldn’t let us go, they had severed the bond themselves.

Some things are truly unavoidable.

Words cannot heal the heart, and none of us could truly understand Shia’s heart.

And there was nothing we could do to stop Shia’s heart from gradually breaking while staying with us.

In the end, we couldn’t reach that deepest part of his heart.

Lowering my head, tears fell silently.

This was truly the first time I had cried over parting with a friend.

With In-ha, we had remained friends.

Before that, I had simply let go lightly.

Even now, I wonder.

If I had let go of In-ha back then, would we not be friends today?

I raised my head.

The sky was ablaze with the red hues of sunset.

It was the sky I had always longed for so deeply.

☆

Min-hee seemed fine the next day.

No, it was more accurate to say she had completely sorted out her feelings.

Min-hee erased her previously gloomy expression and walked around with a bright, cheerful smile as usual.

She laughed, chatted, and conversed with many other kids as she normally did.

It was just like before.

I watched Min-hee without saying a word.

However, her relationship with Shia had completely changed.

Min-hee no longer spoke to Shia.

Even if they bumped into each other in the hallway, she passed by him as if nothing had happened.

In the end, Min-hee decided to let Shia go.

Because there was nothing she could do.

Because she couldn’t understand his feelings.

Watching Min-hee clench her fists tightly as she passed by Shia, I could understand how she felt.

Han-soo and Hyun-ho, who had also tried to talk to Shia afterwards, eventually gave up as well.

In-ha seemed to accept the reality with relative calmness.

Shia didn’t go out of his way to speak to us.

We grew distant.

Eventually, we weren’t even friends anymore.

Life returned to its normal routine.

I trained as usual, chatted with friends, laughed, and frowned.

But every now and then, when I felt an emptiness—or when I didn’t feel it at all—pain resurfaced in my chest.

It was heartbreaking.

Only occasionally, and for very brief moments.

In this returning normalcy, I sometimes showed a melancholic expression and sometimes lost myself in thought.

I often gazed up at the sky.

…And I made a decision.

In mid-December, with winter break approaching, I went to an empty classroom after school, after parting ways with my friends.

The classroom wasn’t locked since younger students often used it as a secret training room.

I opened the front door and stepped inside.

The room was messy, with desks and chairs scattered around haphazardly.

Without thinking, I ran my finger across the top of a desk.

A layer of white dust clung to my fingertip.

I blew the dust off my hand.

I slowly walked over to the window.

The bright blue sky came into view.

Ah, such a vivid color, befitting the winter sky.

I stared out the window for a while, then opened it.

Cold wind rushed in, causing the curtains beside the window to sway and flutter.

The sky was high and vast, and the weather was clear.

On any other day, I would have quickly shut the window because of the cold, but I was so captivated by the breathtaking view that I forgot about the chill and continued to gaze at the sky for a long time.

After a moment, I sensed someone’s presence and turned my head.

“……”

Shia was standing at the classroom door, silently looking at me before stepping closer.

With wavering eyes, Shia asked me, “Why did you call me? We’re… nothing to each other now, right?”

“…I don’t know.”

Even though we were no longer friends, I felt like I could still speak confidently if it was with Shia.

Besides, this was a very important matter to me.

I quietly looked at Shia and forced myself to speak.

“You didn’t hate Min-hee, did you?”

Truthfully, I hadn’t planned out what to say.

I just wanted to talk.

For the last time.

Yes… for the last time.

Shia flinched.

Hesitating, I continued.

“Was being with us so miserable? So unbearable?”

I knew my words would hurt Shia.

Shia’s face twisted in anguish.

How many times had the gentle Shia shown such a distorted expression?

Feeling a burning sensation in my eyes, I kept watching his face.

Finally, Shia steadied his breath and spoke in a voice hiding his emotions.

“…You’re the one who makes me feel the most miserable.”

“What…?”

It was an unexpected response.

I was so startled that my wide eyes froze on him in disbelief.

“You… you look the most normal among all of you at first glance.

But while pretending to be ordinary, looking as plain as me, in truth, you’re the best out of all of us!

And I can’t understand why someone like you acts like everyone else.

If you were arrogant like Kang Ye-seul, if you bragged, then it wouldn’t feel so miserable! Yeah!”

I closed my mouth.

So… that’s how it was.

Was it my painfully plain appearance, concealing talent, that made Shia feel even more miserable?

The feeling of jealousy and misery when someone seems similar to you yet possesses something superior—ah, yes, that makes sense.

I understood.

I suppressed the sob rising within me.

“I hated you so much! No… it wasn’t hatred.

It was annoying, frustrating, infuriating… and it just felt bad.”

I clenched my fists tightly.

“You, looking so ordinary, made me think you were like me.

But your excellence, so much better than mine, only made me feel worse…”

“……”

“It made me feel like… if I tried harder, maybe I could do it too…”

Shia, after spilling his emotions, quickly turned and left the classroom.

The sound of his footsteps echoed as he ran down the hallway.

I turned my gaze back to the sky.

You know that saying, don’t you?

That something is so beautiful, it makes you cry.

That was exactly how I felt at that moment.

Squinting at the dazzling sky, tears began streaming down like a flood.

“Sniff… Hic…!”

I covered my mouth to stifle the sound of my sobs.

It wasn’t entirely my fault that things turned out this way with Shia.

But for some reason, I couldn’t bear it without crying.

The sky felt so far away.