Everyone lives with at least one side of themselves that they don't show to others. Some hide it from their family, others from their friends. Sometimes, there's a side you want to hide even from yourself. I had something like that too.

By day, I was an assistant teacher for the 6-year-old Star Class.

Every morning, as the children entered the classroom one by one, I would organize shoes at the entrance, take their bags, and hold the hands of those who were still half-asleep and looking for their mothers. Some children cried as soon as they entered, some ran to their friends, and others remembered a promise from yesterday and tugged at my sleeve first.

I liked those children.

Children aren't good at lying. If they hate something, they say so; if they like it, they say so. They laugh when it's funny and cry quickly when they're upset. They don't create dozens of doors in their hearts like adults do, agonizing over which one to open. Perhaps that's why being with children made me feel a bit simpler too.

Teacher, try this!

When children with colorful stickers in their hands swarmed me, I would deliberately put on a serious face before quickly squinting my eyes into a smile.

Whoa, wait a second. Are you decorating Teacher right now?

Instead of answering, the children slapped a sticker on my face.

Okay, okay. You can put on as many as you want. But Teacher only has one face...

Then the children would burst into giggles.

Here!

Whoa, that's my eye.

Here too!

Aha... You're putting one there too? Thanks to you, Teacher is getting prettier and prettier~

As the stickers on my face and clothes increased one by one, the children's laughter grew louder. I checked my reflection in the mirror and deliberately marveled at it.

Wow. Who decorated this? You did a really good job!

The children vied to brag that they were the ones who did it. I laughed watching them. In that moment, I could even forget what kind of person I was hiding. I probably looked like a pretty good teacher then. At least during the day.

And in that class, there was that person, the lead teacher. We cared for the children in the same classroom every day. When the children cried, we comforted them together; when they fought, we stopped them; and when it was nap time, we quietly covered them with blankets. Since I was the assistant and they were the lead teacher, we naturally spent a lot of time together.

I teased that person often. To be precise, I liked the reactions they gave me.

Teacher, I did a good job today, right?

When they just nodded without saying much, I would pout my lips for no reason.

Is that it? I asked because I wanted to be praised.

Then they would look at me as if I were absurd. I laughed again seeing that expression.

I was originally that kind of person. I liked to play pranks even over trivial things and watch people's reactions. If the other person was flustered, I'd add another word; if they laughed, I'd laugh with them. I didn't much like it when a serious atmosphere dragged on.

It was especially so in front of that person. I didn't bother thinking about why. Because if I thought about it, it felt like I'd have to give a name to the things that had been continuing naturally until now. Once a feeling is named, it becomes harder to handle than before.

So I just thought of it as a prank. Wanting to talk a bit more, wanting to be a bit closer, and even recalling what kind of expression they made today after the day was over—I thought it was all just an extension of a prank. It was easier to think that way.

The days at the kindergarten were always similar. The laughter and small footsteps of children, origami and colored pencils, the silence of nap time. I spent my days laughing and chatting within that.

And when the sun set, I became a different person. From the moment I took off the clothes I wore at the kindergarten and rolled up my shirt sleeves, the daytime me gradually vanished. The laughter, the jokes, and the good-natured expression subsided as if they were lies. The place I belonged to was a world very far from the kindergarten. There, I was an executive running a syndicate in Korea.

There was one person higher than me, and there were people below me who followed me. The work I was in charge of wasn't just light errands. Dealing with problems arising within the organization, moving the necessary people, and sometimes standing at the final spot of a job that no one wanted to take responsibility for.

There was no reason to laugh there like I did at the kindergarten.

So I was tight-lipped. I didn't show unnecessary emotions and handled what needed to be done quietly. I didn't bother asking about anyone's circumstances, nor did I check the other person's mood. I only looked at the task in front of me and didn't look back once it was done. If the daytime me was sunlight, the nighttime me was closer to the long shadow stretched beneath it.

They seem like completely different versions of me, but in fact, both were me. Offering my face to the children to put stickers on was real, and handling syndicate business every night without any expression was also real. It wasn't that one side was fake and the other was real. I was used to going back and forth between the two.

So I thought it was okay. As long as I didn't show the nighttime me to those who knew the daytime me. Especially to that person.

That person knew what kind of person I was at the kindergarten. The person who offered his face for stickers, who got scolded by the lead teacher while playing around, and who laughed with the children for one more snack.

I wanted to be remembered as that person, at least to them.

Then one day, that boundary collapsed. That night was no different from usual. After the kindergarten closed and the children's voices disappeared, I returned to the world of the night. A few syndicate members were standing inside a narrow alley, and the commotion that had been going on until a moment ago was already over.

I looked down at the marks left on the back of my hand, but I felt no emotion. In moments like this, it was easier not to think. Do what needs to be done, and if it's over, go back. As I always had.

It was then. A very small presence was heard at the entrance of the alley. I reflexively turned my head. And it felt as if time had stopped.

That person was standing under the streetlight. They were looking at me too. Our eyes met. I couldn't say anything. The blood drained from their face in an instant. The moment I saw the emotion rising in those eyes, I realized anew what I looked like standing here now.

I wasn't smiling. My eyes, which were always half-closed, were opened coldly, and my shirt sleeves were rolled up. Syndicate members were standing around me, and in the alley, there were traces that couldn't hide what had just happened.

Above all, the person standing in front of them was not the assistant teacher who laughed while asking children to put stickers on him at the kindergarten. I was a syndicate executive. That person couldn't move a single step. I couldn't move either.

...Huh?

My mind went blank. Of all people, it had to be them.

For a while, no one moved. Even the people around me kept their mouths shut, sensing the atmosphere. The silence that settled into the alley was so deep that even the sound of a car passing in the distance felt faint, like something from another world.

Only then did I snap out of it. I had to act as if nothing was wrong, like usual.

I slowly curled the corners of my mouth up. I narrowed my eyes into that familiar shape. It was the eye-smile I made when the children played pranks at the kindergarten. But it didn't go my way. Cold sweat broke out on my forehead.

Ahaha...

An awkward laugh leaked out.

What is a kindergarten teacher doing here, you ask?

The person didn't answer. I was smiling, but inside, I was frantically searching through every thought in my head. What do I say? How do I explain this? What should I say about these people? And what should I say about the situation just now?

Well, you see. So... this is...

My voice trailed off. The person stepped back just a little. I took a step forward without realizing it.

Wait a minute.

The person stopped again. I forced an eye-smile.

I can really explain. You trust me, right?

There was no answer. That silence hurt strangely. I struggled to maintain the smile.

No, it's not that... If you look at me with those eyes, it makes me look like someone who did something weird.

I didn't bother thinking about the fact that it was already a sufficiently weird situation.

So I... I'm not originally this kind of person...

Even as I spoke, I didn't know what I was saying.

Should I say I have two jobs?

No, should I not call this a job? Anyway, that's not what's important.

The person kept backing away. I followed them just as much.

Wait. It's really a misunderstanding.

Nonsensical excuses kept flowing out of my mouth. I had to hold onto this situation somehow. I had to prevent the current me from being the last image left in this person's mind. I thought it would be fine if I just laughed like usual, joked like usual, and acted like someone who was fine like usual.

But no matter how much I racked my brain, the right words wouldn't come out.

It's not like I showed you on purpose, and I had no intention of showing you this side of me originally...

And at that moment, something snapped in my head.

...Ah, I like you.

Silence fell. The person's eyes widened. I widened my eyes too. ...What did I just say? I shut my mouth. But strangely, I couldn't take back the words I had already spat out. So in the end, I opened my mouth again as if making an excuse.

I really like you.

Even the syndicate members around us went quiet. Only then did I somewhat realize what I was saying, but I couldn't stop either.

I'm serious...

The person was looking at me, unable to say anything. I endured that gaze and continued speaking.

So, the reason I'm here right now is...

My words got tangled.

Because I like you...

The person's lips trembled just a little. And a trembling voice finally broke the silence of the alley.

What does that have to do with anything?

I couldn't answer. It was true. It had nothing to do with it. I looked at the person for a moment, then narrowed my eyes again like usual.

...I guess so.