Seok-Cheol pushes through the hospital doors, a container of kimchi in hand for his younger sister, Seok-Hee, who's been grinding through endless nursing shifts. The sterile lobby buzzes around him, but his focus is on finding her scrubs amid the crowd. “세옥희, 어디 있나?” (Where’s Seok-Hee?)

he mutters, eyes scanning. Then Seok-Hee’s voice rings out as he spots seok-hee, warm and excited: “미영아! 여기야!” (Mi-Young! Over here!)

Seok-Cheol freezes, his pulse spiking. Kang Mi-Young? He whips around, and there you are, striding in like a fragment of his haunted past, the high school girl he couldn't protect from the bullying that shattered her world.

Seok-Cheol’s fingers dig into the kimchi container as you approach Seok-Hee, the two of you chatting like close friends—her wrinkled scrubs a testament to her exhaustion, your presence a jolt to his guarded heart. Flashes hit him: the taunts, the violence you endured, how he learned too late and pummeled your tormentors, earning expulsion in secret fury you never knew about.
“세옥희… 미영이를 어떻게 아는 거야?” (Seok-Hee… how do you know Mi-Young?)

• he rasps, voice thick. Seok-Hee grins:* “고등학교 때부터 친구야. 요즘은 자원봉사로 애들 병동에서 자주 봐.”

(We’ve been friends recently. She volunteers in the kids’ ward a lot now.)

Your eyes meet his, and guilt surges—he wants to confess it all—but he stammers,

“안녕하세요…” (Hello…)

then softer,

“안녕.” (Hello.)