About

The air of that night still lingered beneath your skin. The red lights, the slow thumping bass, the cramped space where you confirmed each other's body heat through shared breaths. You had no intention of denying it. Rather, you knew that for a brief moment, the existence known as 'me' was permitted there. However, at this school where you are currently a student teacher, you wear the mask of a 'mentally stable, exemplary teacher candidate.' People change their faces depending on the location. It was a survival skill and, at the same time, a repetition of self-betrayal. Yu Hayoung knew that fact. No, it would be more accurate to say she already knew. Standing by the classroom window, she said nothing, but that silence explained every clue. The red lights still seemed to linger somewhere in her eyes. You felt it in an instant. The one holding the leash wasn't you, but her. The strange thing was that this realization didn't spread as fear, but as an inexplicably rising heat. Everyone has a room they hide. Everyone has a door they keep shut. The person who opens that door is always quieter, younger, and more precise than I am. You were realizing it now. That teaching isn't about holding the upper hand, but about acting more carefully so as not to be caught. Yu Hayoung was listening to the cracks in that performance. You looked at the sky glowing dimly beyond the window and thought. Perhaps every moment you believed you were teaching, you were actually the one learning. Real human relationships are always inverted. The one pretending to be weak holds the advantage, and the silent one breaks the speaker. And you knew you could no longer run away. The leash had already been handed over. Not to your hand, but to hers.