The old camera sat on the low table between them. Its matte black body was smooth in places, worn down by years of handling. It was a Camon EOS 1N, large and heavy, fully mechanical in design. It didn't seem like something made for a thirteen-year-old.

Moon Dong-min ran his hand over it slowly. For a second, it wasn't just a camera to him. It brought back more memories than he expected.

"This used to be the best camera money could buy," he said. "Back then, every serious photographer, every war correspondent and press shooter, trusted this one."

Ji-hun leaned in closer. He didn't say anything, but his eyes followed every motion as his father opened the back of the camera and pulled out a small roll of film.

"Watch this part. You load it here, then pull the leader across... like this."

His hands moved with a quiet familiarity, fingers fumbling slightly at first, then settling into a rhythm. He guided the film into place, threading it onto the sprockets with practiced care, and then closed the back with a firm click.

"It advances automatically," Dong-min said, smiling a little. "That sound still gives me goosebumps. And I can never get over the shutter sound."

Ji-hun nodded, taking everything in. He didn't want to miss a single step.

Dong-min paused, getting a feel for his son's reaction, then spoke again.

"I know it's heavy. Probably too heavy for you right now. And once you add some of the lenses, it gets heavier. When you're shooting, make sure the strap is always wrapped around your wrist."

He rested his hand on the camera and moved his fingers along the body until he reached a spot where the paint had worn down from years of use.

"It's old, yeah, but I looked after it. Stored it right, cleaned it when it needed it. It's been through a lot with me, but it still works the way it did the day I bought it. Take care of it. This is still the most precious camera I own."

After a moment, he added,

"Finding film won't be easy. Not like before. But the club leader should know where to get it."

Ji-hun ran his fingers lightly over the grip.

"Do you miss it, dad?" he asked.

"Every day."

A long silence settled between them.

"When the doctor told me I'd never see the way I used to," he said, "the first thing I thought about was how I'd still be able to see you, and the second was that I wouldn't be able to look through this viewfinder again."

Ji-hun's hand went still on the lens cap. Dong-min sat back and folded his hands in his lap.

"You starting photography like this makes me proud, Ji-hun. Your mom would've been so happy. She was a better photographer than I ever was. She was something special. I hope you take after her."

"Thanks, dad."

"Don't quit the Photography Club, okay?" Dong-min said. "Promise me you'll stay until you graduate."

"I promise," Ji-hun said. "I'll see it through to the end."

Across the room, a single photo frame sat on the shelf. Inside it, a younger Ji-hun stood beside his parents, all three of them smiling, close enough to look like they wanted to be there. Ji-hun looked at it for a moment, then turned back to the camera and held it a little tighter.

—

The hallway was quiet later that Monday afternoon. Most kids had left, though a few voices came from the art rooms. Shin Ho-jin walked calmly with a camera bag over his shoulder.

He entered the photography club room, which smelled like old paper and photo chemicals. This would be his third and final year here. 

Mr. Kim, their teacher, was sorting through albums on a table. 

"Ho-jin, good to see you," he said and smiled. "Have a seat."

Ho-jin bowed politely and put his bag down on one of the desks along the side of the room. It was obvious Mr. Kim was in a hurry to leave, and he got straight to the point without making Ho-jin wait.

"You're in your final year now. Most of the older students have already stepped away to focus on the CSAT¹." 

Ho-jin didn't respond. He already knew what was coming. He met the teacher's eyes calmly and waited. 

"That means you're the only senior left in the club. The new members and your hoobaes, will look up to you. Do you think you can handle it?"

"Yes, sir," Ho-jin answered without hesitation. Just leave us alone, he thought, and hoped nothing on his face gave him away.

Mr. Kim nodded. 

"I trust you. This year, I won't be involved with the club much. I think what you know will be enough to guide the new members. Now, if you don't mind, I'll head out. If anything comes up, just reach out to me."

"Of course, sir. You can count on me. I'll make sure to come to you if there's any issue," Ho-jin said politely.

"Good," Mr. Kim said. "The club's yours now."

He didn't even wait for a reply and hurried out of the room.

Ho-jin stood alone in the quiet room, thinking about his final year. 

After graduation, he planned to join the military. He had talked it over with his mom many times. It would help her financially until she got a promotion, and by the time he came back, she probably would. Things would be more stable then. He could enroll in an academy and prepare properly, not just for the CSAT but also for the photography program's talent exam, and finally go after the opportunities he had put on hold.

He only had one real dream. Fashion photography. Some nights, he even saw it in his sleep, shooting covers for magazines like Wogue or CQ. 

Taking photos was the only thing that let him shut out how ugly and pointless the world could feel.

He walked over to the window and looked outside. It was his last year in this school, and the thought pulled him in two directions. Part of him was sad, and part of him liked the idea of finally being done with high school. 

Then his eyes caught two students walking in the yard. He recognized one of them right away. Black hair, small frame, a confident walk.

"Well," he said and chuckled, "come to your bully, little smartass."

—--

CSAT¹ (College Scholastic Ability Test) is the national university entrance exam in South Korea. It is a highly important, once-a-year test that can strongly shape a student's academic and career path.