Authors pov:
Debt and the Sleeper
Jae-woo, a bully with a carefully crafted image of fraternal generosity, ran his thumb over the promise of money he held. His eyes, cold and calculating despite the friendly words spilling from his mouth, were fixed on the distraught woman standing before him.
"My name is Jae-o. Byeong-jin and I are so close, we're practically brothers," he claimed, wiping a smudge from his lip with a casual, practiced gesture. He was the picture of the concerned friend, masking the predator beneath. "I even lent him... 250,000 Won!*"
The woman—the mother of the boy Jae-woo was extorting, or perhaps a relative—was visibly shaking.
"W-what...? H-he borrowed money from you...?" The question was a weak, pathetic gasp of disbelief.
Jae-o leaned in, his voice dropping to a smooth, menacing whisper. "He sure did. If you don't believe me... here's the promissory note."
He held out the crumpled paper, a crudely-written document detailing the debt.
The woman took it, her eyes wide as she scanned the incriminating text. The note stated the original loan of 250,000 Won (approximately $230 USD), explaining Byeong-jin had needed it because "He said he broke his friend's electronic dictionary or something."
Jae-o continued his explanation, his tone one of reasonable disappointment.
"Anyways, including interest, he owes 300,000 Won now. He was supposed to pay me back 5,000 Won per day." He paused, letting the numbers sink in. "He made the payments for ten days, but then suddenly stopped."
The woman looked up, her face etched with despair and confusion. "Oh my gosh...! You're just a child! Who taught you to do this...?!" she choked out, staring at Jae-o's feet as if trying to find the monster that raised him. The debt, to her, seemed impossibly vast for a high school student to manage—a burden created by an equally horrifying, cold-blooded scheme.
Far away from the terror of the debt, back inside the fluorescent stillness of the classroom, Jae-woo—the student who haunted the back row—lay asleep.
THUD-THUD. The teacher had struck the desk again. "Who's that in the back still asleep?"
Jae-woo, exhausted by the recurring nightmare of his past—the visceral image of a small boy named Ajin watching a woman scream "DIE!!" at a victim on the floor—remained in a deep, necessary oblivion.
He was being shaken awake by another student: "Hey, wake up!"
He was desperately trying to escape the crimson-tinted shadows of his childhood, only to be dragged back to the dreary, oppressive gray of reality, where predators like Jae-o waited to feed on the weak and the vulnerable. The money, the threat, the fear—it was all an echo of a life he couldn't leave behind.
But now, with the unexpected arrival of the dark-haired girl in the doorway, the careful order of the classroom—the cycle of bullying and escape—might be about to shatter.
The Offer of Shelter
The sudden presence of the new student sliced through the heavy air of the classroom. The silence that followed the SLIDE of the door was broken only by her soft voice. "I'm sorry I'm late..."
Her apology was met with the general apathy of the class, but the sound was enough to finally cut through the residual dread of Ajin's nightmare. He lifted his head, eyes blinking into the gray reality.
"What happened, Ajin...?!"
The question, directed right at him, snapped him fully awake. He stared up, one eye visible above his collar. The new girl, all dark hair and unnervingly calm eyes, was looking at him with a mixture of concern and a strange intensity. Why did she call him Ajin? Most of his classmates only knew him by his last name, or not at all.
His heart still hammered from the remnants of the awful dream, the one that ended with him huddled and shivering, muttering, "Damn it... It was that dream again..." He felt exposed, weak, and utterly unprepared for this scrutiny.
The teacher, regaining control, merely cleared his throat.
In a smooth, confident move that brooked no argument, the new girl stepped toward the back row. She didn't hesitate, immediately reaching out to him. Her demeanor was utterly composed, her focus absolute.
"Sir, I'll take Ajin to the nurse's office," she stated, her voice clear and firm.
The teacher, caught off guard by her determination, simply stammered, "Uhhh, sure..." before regaining his composure. "Alright, everyone. Quiet!"
Without a word, Ajin—or Jae-woo, as he was known by his classmates—allowed her to guide him. She gently pulled him into a stand, and he realized he was still pale and clammy from the lingering fear. He couldn't muster the energy to resist or question her.
She draped her own jacket, a dark, heavy material, around his shoulders.
As they moved toward the door, a loud, sneering voice cut them off. It was Ki-ho, the bully from the front row, grinning mockingly.
"Are you ditching class together?" he called out, gesturing with a pointing finger.
The girl stopped. She turned to face Ki-ho, her hand resting protectively on Ajin's shoulder.
Ki-ho's grin faded, replaced by sudden bewilderment. He leaned in slightly, his brow furrowed. "Wait, what's up with you...?"
He gestured vaguely at her, his voice rising in confusion. "I'm the one that got rained on, so why are you drenched?"
Ajin looked down at the hand holding him, then at the girl's face. Her dark hair was slick with moisture, clinging to her skin.
Her uniform blouse was soaked through. Yet, she seemed completely unbothered, her gaze steady and unwavering as she stared down the bully. She had come to school late, soaking wet, and her first action was to save him from the teacher and the spotlight.
The question of why she was drenched, and more importantly, why she seemed to care about a person whose existence everyone else ignored, hung heavy in the air. For Ajin, whose life had always been defined by trauma and silence, this strange intervention felt like the first drop of rain after a long, lonely drought.
The Exchange and the Rain
The classroom fell silent again, the teacher commanding, "Alright, everyone. Quiet!" But the damage was done. Ajin, dazed and shielded by a jacket held by the strange girl, was being led out of the room.
"Sir, I'll take Ajin to the nurse's office," the girl stated, her voice cutting through the remaining murmur. She was close to Ajin, her hand offering support, and the jacket she had draped over him was clearly hers.
The teacher, flustered by the interruption and the girl's sheer composure, simply agreed: "Uhhh, sure..."
As they passed through the door, Ki-ho, the bully, called out with a sneer, "Are you ditching class together?"
The girl paused. She turned, her expression unreadable.
Ki-ho's bravado faltered as he finally took in her appearance. "Wait, what's up with you...? I'm the one that got rained on, so why are you drenched?"
Indeed, she was soaked. Water clung to her hair and uniform, yet she stood there radiating a cool composure that seemed to defy the heavy downpour that had just begun outside.
The sound of the rain was a heavy, persistent SWAAAAAAA against the windows, a sudden deluge that matched the chaos in the hall.
Downstairs, by the main entrance, another student—Jae-o, the extorter—shook his head dramatically, wiping the dampness from his hair. He was drenched too.
"What is it with this weather?! I just washed my uniform yesterday, ughh! This is the worst."
He shook his phone in annoyance. "SHAKE SHAKE SHAKE. It rains every time I use this MP3! I swear it's cursed..."
The Confrontation
As Jae-o continued to complain, he looked up and saw the pair descending the stairs: Ajin and the dark-haired girl. He stopped short, staring as Ajin, supported by the girl, came into view.
Interesting. Jae-o thought, a sly, unpleasant smirk playing on his lips. He lifted his phone, snapping a discreet picture of them.
The girl's sudden appearance had caught his attention, and seeing her with Ajin only fueled his predatory interest.
He called out to Ajin in a tone dripping with feigned friendship, completely ignoring the girl. "Heh, it's not bad-- Is this Junseo's fetish?"
Before he could finish the remark, Ajin's body tensed, and his arm shot out. ! He shoved Jae-o hard enough to make him stumble back, dropping his phone, which clattered on the ground.
The unexpected confrontation made the new girl gasp softly.
Ajin's face was grim, his eyes holding a cold fury that contrasted sharply with his usual exhausted demeanor. He finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, directed squarely at the extorter.
"DID YOU JUST PUSH ME, YOU A**HOLE?!" Jae-o yelled, staring at his broken phone.
Ajin looked him dead in the eye, his expression hardening. "I thought I made it clear that we would avoid each other at school."
He bent down slightly, leaning in to deliver the final word, a clear boundary being drawn for the first time.
"Shut up and go to class, Jae-o."
The words hung in the air, a definitive warning. For the first time, Ajin had shed his passive victimhood and struck back, forcing the bully to acknowledge the line that had been crossed. The mysterious girl's silent presence had provided the unexpected shield he needed to finally draw a weapon.
Silence and Secrets
The fury in Ajin's eyes was a frightening thing. The shove had been sharp and final, cutting through Jae-o's mockery like glass.
Jae-o, still reeling from the impact and the sight of his phone on the floor, yelled, "DID YOU JUST PUSH ME, YOU A**HOLE?!"
"I thought I made it clear that we would avoid each other at school. Shut up and go to class, Jae-o," Ajin retorted, his voice low, his anger tightly controlled.
Jae-o bristled, eyes narrowing in anger and confusion. "WE'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO TALK AT SCHOOL, REMEMBER?! SO SCREW OFF!!!" He was furious, both from the sudden resistance and the public embarrassment of being checked by someone he considered beneath him. "THERE'S NO ONE HERE, YOU MORON! WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO TELL ME TO GO TO CLASS?! YOU'RE THE ONES SKIPPING CLASS!!"
The girl, silent until now, stepped forward slightly, putting herself between the two boys. "I'm taking Ajin to the nurse's office," she explained, her voice level. Then, her dark eyes flicked down to the shattered phone on the concrete steps. "Hey... You shouldn't let others see that MP3.
You should pick it up and hide it before anybody sees it."
Her words were calm, a practical warning about whatever secrets Jae-o's device might hold. Jae-o hesitated, his gaze darting between her and the phone. He was too proud to openly obey, yet her quiet authority was unsettling.
Ajin, taking her cue, led them quickly away toward the sign that read NURSE'S OFFICE.
The Unspoken Truth
They finally reached the small, quiet room and the girl gently sat Ajin on a cot. The dark jacket was still draped over him, and her presence was a strange, solid comfort.
"We should be careful at school," she murmured, her voice lowered, a clear acknowledgment of the unspoken danger and the confrontation they had just left behind.
"I'm not in the mood to argue, so back off, alright?" Ajin responded, his tone still rough from the fight, but lacking any real hostility toward her. He was emotionally drained, the energy from his outburst fading rapidly.
The girl didn't back off. She sat beside him, her gaze earnest. "Seonghee...? Why would she do that to you?" she asked.
The name, Seonghee, hung in the air—the name of the woman who had driven a wedge between him and Jae-o, perhaps the source of the broken MP3.
"What do you mean, why?" Ajin asked, deflecting.
The girl hesitated, then spoke a harsh truth. "She's obviously jealous because I'm always hanging out with you."
Ajin stared at her, the sudden admission of their relationship and the claim of jealousy catching him completely by surprise. He finally realized who she was—a girl entangled in the web of conflict that surrounded him.
"No matter the reason, this is not okay. Let's tell our teacher," she urged, her voice laced with concern.
But Ajin's past, his nightmare of the screaming woman and the terrified young boy, was why he couldn't simply "tell the teacher." His entire life was built on silence and avoidance. He had learned the terrifying consequences of involving others.
"It's..." he started, his voice trailing off as he fought the urge to explain the intricate, dangerous mess that was his life. The shame, the paranoia, the image of the frantic woman screaming "AAAAHHHHH!" and the wide, desperate eyes of the boy in the doorway—it all clamped down on his voice.
He looked at this girl who knew his secret name, Ajin, and who was willing to get soaked in the rain just to offer him a brief moment of shelter. He had pushed back at Jae-o, but only because she was there.
She was getting too close to the dangerous currents in his life. He had to decide whether to push her away to protect her, or hold onto this fragile lifeline that she'd offered.
The Cost of Silence
In the quiet sanctuary of the Nurse's Office, the girl's suggestion—"No matter the reason, this is not okay. Let's tell our teacher"—hung heavy. Ajin sat on the cot, his face a grim mask of refusal.
"It's..." he began, then stopped, running a hand over the dark jacket still draped on his shoulders. The past was an iron chain, and informing the teacher meant drawing attention, which meant exposing the whole fragile structure of his hidden life.
The girl, whose name was Junseo, watched him with worried, intense eyes. She looked down at the rain-soaked clothes she still wore, a detail Ajin had initially missed in his own exhaustion. He finally noticed the chilling dampness of her hair.
"Your hair is still wet. You could catch a cold—" Ajin started, the concern genuine. He hated the idea that she was suffering for his sake. "At least stay here until the nurse comes back."
Junseo smiled softly, a tired, practiced look that didn't quite reach her eyes. He reached out and gently brushed a damp strand of hair from her cheek. WHISH.
"It's fine. I'm not a kid," she assured him, though her voice sounded strained. She looked away, her dark eyes losing focus as she spoke the real reason for her late arrival and her anxiety. "She keeps spreading weird rumors about me and was getting on my nerves..."
The person she referred to—Seonghee—was the same girl Ajin had heard mentioned earlier, the one Jae-o claimed was jealous of Junseo's friendship with him. Junseo's tone hardened with unexpected malice. "I'm gonna get rid of her, my way..."
Ajin's eyes widened slightly. Rid of her? The phrase felt too stark, too aggressive.
Junseo continued, her fear finally bubbling up to the surface. "To be honest... I'm scared that Seonghee will hurt me..." She looked at him desperately. "Junseo... You'll help me, right...?"
She was asking for help, but she was demanding something more: complicity in a brewing conflict he wanted no part of. Yet, her distress was real, and he owed her for the shelter she'd provided.
Ajin looked at her, his mind reeling. The bullying, the debt, the dark dream, and now this girl, Junseo, who understood his secret name, Ajin. Her desperation stirred a memory, a terrible, fundamental reason why he was incapable of refusing her.
He reached for her hand, his expression softening with a terrible clarity.
"Ajin..." he whispered, using the name only people close to him knew. He couldn't shake the memory of the past, the crimson-tinged room where he found the terrified young boy—himself—weeping.
"I still can't forget the day I found you crying in front of that bathtub with my mother standing over you."
The unspoken promise, the debt of shared trauma, echoed between them. He had seen her at her lowest, most vulnerable point—a witness to his own childhood terror. That moment, years ago, had bound them in a way no schoolyard bully or debt could sever.
He squeezed her hand. "I have no choice but to help you, whatever you ask of me..."
His promise was not one of affection, but of fate. He was forever tied to the girl who called him Ajin, and the secret darkness that connected their pasts.
Meanwhile, Ki-ho, back in the classroom, chewed his lip and stared at the empty seat in the back. "They went to the nurse's office together... and I'm sitting in class like an idiot." He was plotting his next move, unaware that Ajin's moment of defiance had just been sealed by a promise rooted in a far older, deeper loyalty.
[
Back in the
The Escalation and the Discovery
Ajin's promise to Junseo hung heavily in the air, a burden and a commitment tied to a shared, dark past. Junseo, sensing the shift, let the subject of Seonghee drop, for now.
Meanwhile, back in the classroom, the teacher noticed Jae-o's absence and marked him as LATE instead of ABSENT on the chalkboard. Jae-o, who had been scrambling to pick up his phone after Ajin's unexpected shove, finally rushed back into class, completely disrupting the lesson. He burst through the door, wet and frazzled.
"HA! Not only did you saunter into class late, but... now you're not even paying attention. Where's your textbook, huh? And what's that on your desk?" the teacher demanded, already standing over him.
Jae-o instinctively tried to shield the small, dark object on his desk. The teacher, stern and unyielding, commanded, "GIVE ME THAT".
A moment later, chaos erupted. Jae-o lunged, a desperate motion to reclaim his property. "CRASH!" His movement knocked into a desk and threw another student, who cried out, "WHY YOU LITTLE—!". Students yelled, "HEY!!" and "JAE-O, STOP!!!" as he fought to get the object back.
Amid the confusion, a girl sitting nearby, with her hair pulled back, was startled as the commotion reached her. "UGH! WHAT IS WRONG WITH HIM?! HE RAN INTO MY DESK!!".
She stared down at the items scattered by the incident: a broken pink mirror and Jae-o's phone. "That idiot almost broke my mirror--" she muttered, but her eyes fixed on the discarded phone.
***
The overhead lights hummed faintly as the teacher stood beside my desk, his features tight with annoyance. He held out his hand impatiently, palm up. "Give me that," he said, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. His tone brokered no argument.
Reluctantly, I handed over the book, feeling the weight of a dozen stares boring into my back. My fingers drummed nervously on the desk as the seconds crawled by.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the hallway beyond the rain-blurred windows. My classmates stiffened, and the teacher's patience, already thin, snapped. "Why, you little—!" his voice trailed off in anger, but whoever had caused the commotion was already gone.
I slumped at my desk, fingers pressed to my temple in frustration. They went to the nurse's office together—her and the teacher—leaving me stranded, alone, and simmering in self-doubt. "…And I'm sitting in class like an idiot," I muttered under my breath, wishing I could disappear.
She didn't look sick. My mind replayed the sight of her drenched from the rain, dark hair plastered to her cheeks. Why was she so soaked when she'd only just arrived? There was no fever in her eyes, no pallor to her skin that illness could explain. Only an odd, distant weariness.
My attention dragged back to the present as my hand absentmindedly tapped the edge of the desk. The accounts book sat beside me, forgotten until now. "Wait, what about the accounts book?" Anxiety curled low in my gut. "This is why I even bothered to show up at school," I thought bitterly, watching the drizzle trace slow patterns across the glass.
Questions crowded my mind, unanswered—about her, about the chaos, about the inscrutable book whose pages now seemed to hold more secrets than ever.
---
The Secret Message
The girl, who was Seonghee, the subject of Junseo's fears, picked up the phone that Jae-o had struggled so fiercely to protect.
"What is this...? Looks like Jae-o dropped it...". Then she noticed the notification. "! It's a message!".
She opened the message, her eyes scanning the cryptic text:
"I'M IN THE NURSE'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW AND WILL BE HEADING HOME RIGHT AS SOON AS I GET OUT. I'LL LOOK OVER THE ACCOUNT BOOK TOMORROW.
BOOK OWNER".
Seonghee frowned, confusion deepening into suspicion. "What does this even mean...? An account book...?". She immediately realized the owner of the phone was not the sender of the message. The person who had written it was talking about an "account book" and heading home from the nurse's office.
Her thoughts raced, tying together the thread she had observed earlier: Ajin's pale face, the strange, drenched girl taking him to the nurse's office, and the conversation about her own absence. She had wondered why the girl was so drenched, noting that she didn't even look sick.
"Wait, what about the accounts book? This is why I even bothered to show up at school!".
Seonghee's gaze hardened as she clutched the phone. She now held the key to an unfolding scheme, one involving Ajin, Junseo, and a mysterious "account book" that seemed to be the real reason she was at school. Her own secret mission had just intersected dangerously with Junseo's plea for help.