The school repairs had been finished faster than expected. By late afternoon, the hammering had stopped, replaced by the laughter of village kids spilling across the small field behind the school building.

Seorin sat at the edge of the field with a few other students, legs stretched carefully over the dry dirt. An elastic bandage still wrapped tightly around her ankle beneath her sock, warm from a day of movement. A fine layer of dust clung to the tips of her shoes. In front of her, children ran and shouted at each other, turning the quiet afternoon into a raucous, lively scene.

“They look really happy.”

Dongchul’s voice came from beside her.

Seorin followed his gaze. A little boy had fallen in the middle of the field but immediately got up again, laughing loudly. The corner of Seorin’s mouth twitched into a small smile before her eyes dropped back to her own feet.

Next to her, Dongchul slapped sunscreen onto his face with careless movements.

“You should put some on too.”

He held the bottle out toward her.

Seorin glanced at it briefly before taking it without saying much. The cool liquid touched her cheek. A faint scent of citrus mixed with the sun and dust that had been in the air all day.

Dongchul watched her, a small smile on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

Seorin’s hand froze for a split second.

“I don’t know if I can fully forgive you or not,” she said softly, still rubbing sunscreen over the back of her hand. “Because what you did back then… it was cruel.”

Dongchul bowed his head slightly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But…” Seorin drew a short breath. “You’re not entirely at fault either.”

Her fingers clenched the fabric of her training pants at her knees.

“I was selfish too.”

The evening breeze drifted gently between them. From the field came shouts of children preparing for a new game.

Dongchul glanced at her cautiously.

“So… does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Not completely.”

The words came quickly, but a faint curve lifted the corner of Seorin’s lips.

“Just…” She turned her face back toward the field. “We can go back to how we were before.”

Dongchul chuckled softly, his breathing suddenly lighter.

He leaned back on the bench again, just like before. This time Seorin didn’t move away.

“Sorry too, for not being able to return your feelings.”

Seorin’s head snapped toward him sharply.

Her hand shot up reflexively, as if to strike.

“Park Dongchul.”

He stumbled back, laughing nervously.

“You wanna hit me? Don’t bring that up again.”

The tip of her ear warmed. Seorin quickly turned her face away, tugging her sleeve higher on her arm.

“Do you know how sad I felt earlier, seeing the three of you having lunch without me?”

This time Seorin let out a small laugh.

The memory of earlier that day came back on its own—Dongchul standing there with a tray, looking like he’d been cast out of the group.

“Thanks for trying to understand my position,” Dongchul added quietly this time.

Seorin just gave a small nod.

“Han Seorin!”

Her body almost lifted from the bench as the voice came suddenly from the middle of the field.

Kang Ara ran toward them, a ball in one hand. Hair damp with sweat, white shirt dust-streaked over the shoulders.

“Help me!”

Before Seorin could answer, her wrist was grabbed.

“I already have a partner!” Ara shouted toward the field.

Some kids cheered immediately.

Seorin frowned as her body was forced upright.

“I can’t run.”

“Who said you’re the one running?”

Ara crouched in front of her, glancing back impatiently.

“Hurry.”

Seorin watched her back for a few seconds. Around them, kids started climbing onto each other’s backs, laughing. Dust flew as they stomped the ground together. Someone’s makeshift whistle pierced the shouts.

“Han Seorin!”

Her hand was grabbed again.

Awkwardly, Seorin climbed onto Ara’s back. Her palms automatically gripped the sun-warmed shoulders of Ara’s shirt. Her knees pressed slightly harder into Ara’s waist as the body stood.

Her arms wrapped reflexively around Ara’s neck.

“Hold on properly,” Ara said, laughing shortly.

Counting began from the field.

“Three…”

Ara leaned forward slightly.

“Two…”

Warm breath brushed against Seorin’s back.

“One!”

Ara ran.

The world shook beneath her. Feet pounded the dirt rapidly, swinging Seorin along. The evening wind hit her face, carrying the scent of dry grass and faint sweat.

A small laugh escaped her lips first. Then a louder one.

Ara’s laughter mingled with the children’s shouts. Occasionally, Ara wobbled to dodge other players, making Seorin unconsciously squeeze tighter.

“Hold on!”

“I’m holding!”

“You’re choking me!”

“I told you to hold on properly!”

Ara laughed loudly.

Even after the game ended and the kids began teasing their team, Seorin’s laughter still spilled out every time Ara protested from the middle of the field.

Once down, she immediately poked Ara’s shoulder.

“You didn’t run fast enough.”

“They cheated.” Ara pointed at the opposing kids, panting. “I got extra weight.”

Seorin stared blankly.

“So you’re saying I’m heavy?”

The second poke landed harder.

“Ara! This time I win!”

Minji jumped, raising her arms high. The other kids cheered instantly.

Ara’s eyes narrowed slightly. Without a word, she chased Minji across the field.

Dust flew every time their shoes hit the ground. Kids laughed, running around Ara, who finally caught Minji from behind—only to be tackled back a few seconds later.

Now Ara was the one being chased.

Seorin laughed until her shoulders shook.

Ara ran back toward her and hid behind her back.

“Save me,” Ara whispered quickly.

Moments later, Ara dropped to the ground, pretending to faint.

The kids immediately protested, laughing.

“Now go attack Minji,” Seorin said, pointing ahead.

The children immediately turned without hesitation.

Ara opened one eye.

“So cruel.”

Then she sat next to Seorin, leaning her elbows on her knees.

“I’m tired.”

Their breathing was still uneven. The night breeze began to drift down slowly, bringing a thin chill that brushed against sweat-moist skin.

Seorin still wore a small smile.

“This is fun.”

Ara turned.

“Fun?”

Seorin turned to look.

Ara’s gaze didn’t shift at all. The children’s shouts from the far side of the field were still audible, but faint compared to Ara’s breaths close to her. Their uniforms brushed lightly as the wind passed between them.

“I like—”

The words stuck in her throat.

Her fingers moved slightly over the ground, nearly touching Ara’s hand beside her.

She lifted her face again.

“I liked today.”

Ara’s gaze lingered for a few seconds before finally—

“Ouch!”

A ball struck Ara’s head hard enough to startle her.

Seorin flinched.

The field erupted again around them.

“Sorry!”

A voice shouted from afar.

Ara got up, rubbing the back of her head, and threw the ball back into the field.

“Did it hurt?”

Seorin stepped closer unconsciously. Her hand rose first, brushing Ara’s slightly messy hair.

Ara stayed still.

The tips of her fingers lingered in Ara’s hair as their faces were just inches apart.

Her hand pulled back too quickly—too quickly.

The movement made Ara lose balance and fall to the ground, sitting up.

“Are you gonna help me or hurt me?”

Ara looked up, laughing in disbelief.

Seorin didn’t answer. She quickly turned away.

“I want to get a drink.”

Then she walked away before Ara could say anything else.

***

Night fell faster than she expected.

The guesthouse room lights had been off for half an hour, leaving only a thin strip of moonlight through the curtains. Outside, crickets chirped softly along with the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze.

Seorin still stared at the ceiling.

Next to her, Minji had long been asleep, the blanket half-slid from her shoulders.

The other bed shifted slightly.

Ara changed position, turning from their back onto their side to face her.

Seorin immediately turned her face toward the wall.

Several seconds passed.

Then her eyes slowly moved back.

Moonlight fell softly on Ara’s face, casting shadows from the strands of hair falling onto their forehead. Their breathing was steady, almost drowned out by the old fan in the corner of the room.

Seorin watched for a few moments before quickly rolling back over.

The bed creaked softly as she moved.

The old fan again became the only sound in the room.

A few seconds later, her eyes returned to the same place.

This time, she didn’t look away immediately.