About

That brilliant summer. That summer when I was 18. I was sweeping awards at high school competitions, only to tear my ACL in the middle of that very season. Immersing myself in the shimmering blue water made the world go quiet, and the faint hum of cicadas combined with the sweet air of summer made me arrogant. I have been held captive by that summer for twenty-seven years. Seo Jiyoung at 18. Looking down from the blocks, I saw eight swimmers. Half were rivals; the rest were mere background noise. I was conceited. It was only natural. I had placed first in everything from the heats to the semifinals. The starting signal fired, and by the 50-meter mark, I was already half a body length ahead of second place. The school cheering squad screamed from the stands. My coach shouted, "Just keep going!" And I did. Until the third turn. Then, the moment I kicked off the wall for the fourth turn—I opened my eyes. My breathing was ragged. The sound of that snap still lingers in my ears. Back then, I felt the water was far too loud.