The Warmth of Pale Hands

“Song Chang-Min, what’s he saying right now?”

“I mean… I…”

Chang-Min’s flustered voice trailed off behind her, but Ye-Kang tried her best to ignore it.

Jeha returned just before the bell rang. The classroom door swung open, and he loudly called out Sang-Mi’s name.

“Hey, Kim Sang-Mi!”

Sang-Mi, who had been working on a workbook, looked up at him.

“What?”

“Are we dating? Since when?”

Jeha grinned as he raised his voice, and Sang-Mi’s face flushed bright red in an instant.

“What the hell are you saying, you bastard!”

“Exactly. I was wondering which idiot’s been spreading nonsense.”

Jeha sat down at his desk with a casual smile. Ye-Kang bit her lip as she glanced at Chang-Min, who followed quietly and sat down. Thankfully, his face showed no signs of being hit. Feeling guilty for dragging Chang-Min into unnecessary trouble, she hesitated before pulling out her notebook and writing him a note.

[Sorry.]

[For what?]

[For getting you into trouble because of me.]

[Not at all. Did you think Jeha would beat me up for spreading rumors?]

Chang-Min added a wavy scrawl beneath his reply, grinning to reveal his crooked tooth.

[I told you, he’s not a bad guy.]

Ye-Kang couldn’t understand how Chang-Min had reached that conclusion. To her, Jeha—who openly humiliated people in front of others—seemed like the worst kind of person.

Once again, she resolved to never get involved with him. But Jeha, as if mocking her resolve, approached her again.

“…What is it?”

It was during a break from self-study. Ye-Kang finally spoke as she looked at Jeha, who stood in front of her desk.

“The homeroom teacher said to submit your career counseling application soon.”

Jeha placed the counseling schedule he was holding onto her desk. Leaning on the edge of her desk with one hand, his stance felt almost oppressive, as if pressuring her to fill out an empty slot immediately.

“I’m not planning to go to college.”

It was something her mom would be furious to hear, but Ye-Kang’s decision was firm. College wasn’t an option she could afford. Her plan was to graduate high school, move to Seoul, and find a job at a small company. She wanted to save enough money to rent a small room and bring her mom back to live with her.

When she opened her workbook to signal the conversation’s end, Jeha silently pulled out the empty chair in front of her desk and straddled it backward. The sudden closeness of his face startled her, and she instinctively leaned back.

“…What are you doing?”

The faint hum of classroom chatter seemed to vanish in an instant.

Thunk.

The hexagonal pen in his pale hand fell and rolled slightly on her desk.

Kang Ye-Kang.

Her name was written neatly on the career counseling schedule in bold, precise handwriting. Ye-Kang frowned, irritated by how immaculate his penmanship was even in this situation.

Before she could say anything about his audacity in writing her name without permission, Jeha swiftly snatched up the paper and spoke in a low voice.

“Why are you doing workbooks if you’re not going to college?”

Before she could retort with “What business is it of yours?” he continued.

“You know you’re really strange, right?”

“…What?”

“You don’t make any sense.”

Ye-Kang swallowed hard and finally spoke, her heart racing again. She could feel the curious and excited stares of the other students on them, including Sang-Mi, who was no longer bothering to hide her irritation.

“What does it matter to you?”

Her courage to finally speak felt pointless when Jeha responded so calmly.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s just annoying.”

His low voice dripped with genuine irritation, making it seem as if her very existence was a hassle to him.

“Whether you go to college or not isn’t my problem. Just make sure you tell the homeroom teacher directly during your counseling session. Don’t make things unnecessarily complicated for others.”

Without giving her a chance to respond, he turned and walked out of the classroom. As he disappeared through the door, someone in the classroom whispered softly.

“…Doesn’t look like it. Did you see Jeha’s face? The mood was intense.”

“Sang-Mi, don’t worry about it. Jeha’s just doing charity work, like helping the less fortunate.”

It felt like being punched out of nowhere. Ye-Kang bit her lip as she stared out the window at Jeha’s retreating figure. Her suspicions were now confirmed—Jeha was tormenting her in the most malicious way possible.

Because Jeha had taken it upon himself to write her name on the career counseling schedule, Ye-Kang ended up having a long conversation with the homeroom teacher. The teacher, who was heavily pregnant, seemed to already understand Ye-Kang’s situation and had anticipated her response.

“There are many schools these days with great scholarship and dormitory programs,” she said. “With your grades, even if you aim a little lower, you’ll still have plenty of options.”

Her advice was practical and realistic, but it only added to Ye-Kang’s frustration.

“Is everything okay? I told the class president to pay special attention to you.”

The homeroom teacher spoke obliviously to her situation. Ye-Kang wished only for Jeha to completely leave her alone. Whether it was to provoke Sang-Mi’s jealousy or, as the kids speculated, some kind of charity work, she hated both possibilities.

“Well, I’ll get going now.”

Before transferring, Ye-Kang had spent a year at an all-girls high school. After declining a suggestion to join a club, she became a target for delinquent girls for the rest of the semester. When rumors spread that her mother was a shaman, people began avoiding her altogether, which she had considered a relief.

Coed school life, however, wasn’t any easier.

In fact, having a popular boy be kind to her only made things worse. Being bullied by people she didn’t even know was far more frightening. When she thought of Sang-Mi’s glaring eyes, her steps grew heavier. She longed for a day off but reminded herself that it was only Wednesday.

Ye-Kang rushed out of her gate, her bag weighing heavily on her shoulder with two packed lunches inside. Preparing breakfast at dawn and packing lunches had become second nature to her ever since her mom began receiving clients again, and her grandmother passed away, leaving all household responsibilities to Ye-Kang.

She no longer stopped by the railroad tracks to daydream on her way to school—there was no time for that.

Unpredictable delays were a constant. Sometimes the bus didn’t show up for 20 minutes, and other times, two buses arrived back-to-back. Unfortunately, the bus stop was a 15-minute walk from her house.

When she was about 100 meters away from the stop, the bus she needed roared past her.

“Ah…!”

Frowning, Ye-Kang broke into a sprint. She ran as if she were back in gym class because if she missed this bus, she had no idea when the next one would come. She definitely wasn’t running just to trip over a cracked sidewalk block and fall spectacularly.

“Ahhh…!”

She hit the ground hard, her knees stinging as they made contact. Blood quickly seeped from her scraped skin, and bruises already began to form, promising deep, painful marks.

“Haa…”

The pain outweighed the embarrassment. As she got up, she noticed her palms were scraped too. She abandoned the missed bus and began rummaging through her bag for a handkerchief when—

SCREECH.

A sleek sedan pulled up beside her, hazard lights blinking.

Honk!

The sharp sound startled her, and she turned to see Jeha’s face through the lowered window. His finely chiseled features creased into a slight frown.

“Get in.”

The timing couldn’t have been worse. How much had he seen? Did he witness her fall? Ye-Kang’s ears burned with humiliation, and her face felt hotter than her scraped knee.

“I’m fine. It’s not that bad,” she said, quickly waving her hand and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Without even wiping the blood from her stinging knee, she tried to walk away, but Jeha called out to her.

“Kang Ye-Kang.”

She paused, her breath hitching. Hearing him say her name felt strangely unfamiliar, as though it belonged to someone else.

“I have a question.”

She turned back to face him. Jeha rested his elbow on the window ledge, propping up his chin as he looked at her intently. After a moment of silence, he asked,

“Do you like me?”

“What?”

“Do you like me?”

The way he repeated it was maddeningly nonchalant.

“What are you even talking about…?”

Her neatly arched eyebrows drew together in confusion. His question made her heart race with unease. Had she done something that might have led him to misunderstand? She couldn’t think of anything. If anything, she’d been doing everything she could to avoid him.

“If you don’t like me, I don’t understand your behavior.”

“What… have I done?”

“Rejecting someone’s kindness over and over again—doesn’t it seem like you’re trying to get my attention?”

What nonsense.

“I think you’re misunderstanding something…”

“Yeah? Then I’d appreciate it if you could stop me from misunderstanding further by getting in the car. Leaving someone injured on the street doesn’t align with my family’s principles.”

Ye-Kang glared at him, swallowing dryly. She couldn’t figure him out. Was this harassment or just plain kindness?

“If your leg hurts too much to walk, I’ll help you.”

Her hesitation ended when Jeha opened the car door and stepped out, as if to physically assist her.

“No, that’s not necessary,” she said, exhaling sharply.

She reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat, and Jeha followed, sitting beside her before closing the door.