Ji-hun woke up early on Sunday morning, even though he did not need to. 

He opened his eyes and lay still for a moment, listening to the quiet in his room. His alarm had not gone off yet, but he knew he was not going back to sleep. The photo shoot stayed on his mind, and the thought of it made the day feel different right away.

He sat up and looked around his room. Everything was still where he had left it the night before. His camera bag rested near the door. He looked at it like he would look at a friend. He did not get into photography just because his father wanted him to, and it was not because his mother had been a photographer before she died. Ji-hun really loved taking photos.

For him, it felt like a game. He liked stopping a moment, whether it was something alive or not. He liked catching the colors in a scene the way he saw them. That thought made him feel excited. He went to the bathroom, washed his face, and changed into clean clothes. He was going out later in the evening, so he moved slowly, but he still checked the time again and again.

Dong-min was already awake, but like always, he waited for Ji-hun to come and wake him up anyway. When Ji-hun walked into his room, Dong-min smiled, just like he did every morning. That was his thing. Even though his world felt dark most of the time, he always smiled so he would not dim Ji-hun's light.

They ate breakfast together at the small table by the window. They did not talk much. Dong-min drank his tea and listened while his son read the news on his phone. When Ji-hun finished eating, he cleared the plates and went back to his room.

He tried to study for a while. He opened his book and read a few pages, but his eyes kept drifting to the clock. After that, he cleaned his room a little. He folded some clothes, straightened his desk, and picked up a few things from the floor. At one point, he opened his camera bag, took the camera out, checked it, and put it back in again. He did that twice, just to be sure.

By early afternoon, he stopped trying to stay busy. He sat on his bed and waited until it felt like the right time to leave.

Photography was the one thing he never got tired of. Taking pictures made him feel awake in a way nothing else did. He had been thinking about the Han River shoot all day and could not wait to get there. He did not want to do anything else in the future. This was the only thing that made sense to him.

—

Ji-hun took the bus toward the Han River. He got off a stop early and walked the rest of the way through the park. The light had started to change by then. The sun sat lower in the sky, and everything looked softer.

When the river came into view, it reflected long streaks of gold and orange. A light breeze moved through the open space and carried the smell of fresh water and damp grass. The park was calmer than it usually was, with people spread out along the paths, sitting or walking slowly.

Students from the photography club showed up one by one at the meeting spot near the riverbank. There was a quiet excitement in the way they talked and adjusted their camera straps.

Ji-hun spotted Hae-sol across the open space and lifted his hand to wave. Hae-sol noticed him right away. They smiled and walked toward each other.

"You're early," Hae-sol said.

Ji-hun chuckled. 

"I couldn't stay home."

They stood together near the river, watching as the rest of the group arrived. The light kept shifting by the minute, turning warmer and deeper. Ji-hun glanced around for a second, and his eyes stopped when he saw Ho-jin.

Ho-jin stood a short distance away with a small group of students. He spoke easily while pointing toward the river and the buildings across it. He explained how to watch the shadows and wait for the right moment. His posture was relaxed, like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

"He really looks like he belongs here," Hae-sol said quietly.

Ji-hun did not answer. He watched the way Ho-jin's hands moved as he talked about angles and timing. There was nothing flashy about it. He just looked comfortable.

After a while, the group split into smaller clusters. Each pair or trio headed to different spots along the river to practice composition before the light faded. Ji-hun and Hae-sol walked toward a tall willow tree that leaned over the water. The sun filtered through the branches, casting long shadows on the ground. The river reflected bands of gold onto the leaves.

"This spot's perfect," Hae-sol said as he raised his camera.

Ji-hun nodded and set up his own. He adjusted the lens and framed the shot carefully. For a few minutes, everything else dropped away. He focused on the way the light moved and how the shadows changed. The sound of shutters clicking and leaves rustling filled the space around him.

Across the river, he noticed Ho-jin helping a younger student. Ho-jin leaned down and pointed at the camera screen. He adjusted the settings and waited for the light to hit just right. He spoke calmly and did not rush.

Ji-hun told himself he was only watching because Ho-jin was good at teaching. Still, he kept his eyes on them, making sure no one noticed he was looking.

When the sun dipped lower, the group slowly came back together. Everyone looked tired, but lighter somehow. Students compared shots and laughed about missed timing and shaky hands. The air buzzed with quiet excitement.

Ho-jin stayed distant from Ji-hun. If their eyes met, Ho-jin bowed politely, but he only spoke to assign tasks or check equipment. The space between them felt on purpose as they packed up and headed back, and Ji-hun noticed it the whole time.

—

When they returned to school, the last of the sunset still glowed through the darkroom windows. Inside, the red lights cast everything in shadow. Students worked quietly and looked at the photos on their camera screens. They talked in low voices so they would not disturb each other. Some leaned closer to compare shots and pointed at small details. They asked what settings the others had used and talked about what worked and what did not.

Ji-hun threaded his film onto the reels like he always did. Across the room, Ho-jin moved with ease, checking on each student. He gave quiet instructions and small corrections. He did not stop by Ji-hun's station until almost everyone else was finished.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Ho-jin lifted one of Ji-hun's wet prints with tongs and held it up to the light. It showed a cyclist crossing a narrow bridge, the golden light cutting across the frame at just the right angle.

Ho-jin smiled a little.

"You took some good shots today, Ji-hun. Keep it up," he said.

Ji-hun kept his face still. "Thank you, sunbae," he said.

Ho-jin set the photo down and moved on.

That night, Ji-hun lay awake and stared at the ceiling. He kept thinking about the day and went over what had happened. He thought about the light by the river, the way the water looked, how quiet it was, and the smile he could not stop remembering.

—

After that, the days passed one after another and started to feel the same.

Classes went by, and he did not sleep well at night because he kept thinking about everything. The tension between him and Ho-jin did not go away. They ran into each other in the hallways sometimes, but Ho-jin just walked past him and kept his eyes forward. His face showed nothing.

On Thursday afternoon, Ji-hun stood outside his classroom with Hae-sol when Ho-jin and his friend appeared at the end of the corridor. They walked straight toward the classroom. Ji-hun felt his pulse spike and looked down at the floor. The door opened, and he heard low voices inside. Then he heard something fall, and after that, he heard someone start crying quietly. 

A few minutes later, Ho-jin and his friend came back out, and they looked angry. Ho-jin walked past without looking at anyone. The hallway stayed quiet. Everyone seemed shocked, and the younger students looked tense. It felt like the older boys coming into classrooms and causing trouble was starting to scare them.

Hae-sol leaned closer. "That didn't look good. Should we check inside?" he asked.

Ji-hun waited for a moment and looked into the classroom. He saw Choi Da-eun again. She was sitting at her desk, and she was crying softly.

"Forget it," he said. "It's none of our business."

The words felt wrong as soon as he said them, and that feeling stayed with him the rest of the day.

—

That afternoon, Ji-hun stood outside the faculty office. He stopped in front of the door and listened for a moment. Then he knocked and went inside. 

He told the teachers what he thought had been happening with Ho-jin. After that, he finally felt a little better. He was glad because he thought he would not have to see that girl crying again. But more than anything, it felt like payback.

It felt like someone was finally going to give that bully what he deserved.