After the cleaning was finished, the classroom became quiet.
I leaned the mop against the wall, shook my hands off, and felt a heavy fatigue.
Lee Jian was also moving quietly.
I glanced at her.
“They said the practice is already over.
I think you can just go home?
You couldn’t participate in today’s practice.”
It was because cleaning took too long.
Thanks to our homeroom teacher, who inspected thoroughly as if trying to squeeze every last bit of effort out of us, it took forever.
Even Cinderella’s stepmother wouldn’t have gone this far.
The classroom seemed to sparkle.
Dazzling.
“Ah, I see.”
She looked like she wanted to say something.
Her hesitant gaze, the cautious movement of her fingertips, and the way she slowly parted her lips.
At that moment—
[Observer mode is activating. Guiding you to the episode location.]
A familiar system message.
In the next moment, my body moved on its own.
I took a step toward the classroom door.
‘What?’
I tried to stop myself in confusion, but I couldn’t.
Regardless of my will, my footsteps carried me toward the door, like a marionette on strings.
‘Are you telling me I can’t even do this now?’
I thought bitterly to myself.
That’s when I realized.
I wasn’t part of the story—I was merely a spectator.
The system had made my role clear. I was an observer.
Not even a supporting character, let alone an extra.
Observers were not meant to step onto the stage.
The moment Lee Jian began to speak, I was forcibly ejected from the classroom.
“…Kim Dohyun?”
Her voice called out from behind me.
I wanted to turn back.
But my body wouldn’t respond.
Until the very last moment before stepping out, I desperately tried to reach for her.
But in the end, my body was pushed outside the classroom by the system.
The sound of the door closing echoed.
Standing in the empty hallway, I quietly clenched my fist.
What was she going to say?
If I had been able to hear her words, would this situation have changed?
‘I wanted to stay just a little longer.’
But the system disregarded my will.
And once again, it told me—
You are not an actor, but an observer.
That’s what it seemed to say.
I closed my eyes bitterly.
It wasn’t that I had to remain an “observer”—it was that I was never meant to be anything more in the first place.
Even so, my body continued moving somewhere.
And soon, I arrived at the gym.
Yoon Jihoo was practicing alone, diligently.
His sweat-drenched hair, his flawless, repeated movements.
He was murmuring something to himself, moving in sync with his own rhythm.
Unlike before, his movements weren’t delicate but intense and powerful, fitting the term “martial arts” perfectly.
In the original story, he was a hardworking character.
Unlike the naturally gifted protagonists, he was someone who grew through relentless repetition and perseverance.
…Yeah, I knew that.
In the original, it was part of his character arc, a scene meant to make readers cheer him on.
But even so, watching this scene now made irritation bubble up inside me.
‘What the hell is this?’
I was with Lee Jian just a moment ago, so why was I watching some sweaty guy instead?
Instead of a beautiful high school girl, I was stuck looking at a drenched man.
I sighed inwardly.
‘This is too much.’
This was torture.
Not only could I not play an important role in this world, but I also couldn’t steer the story as I wished.
I followed where the system led me, and in the end, I was watching Yoon Jihoo instead of Lee Jian.
How was I supposed to accept this absurdity?
[Observer mode is ending.]
The situation was too ridiculous for me to stay serious.
Without thinking, I muttered,
“…Why the hell am I watching this?”
At that moment, Yoon Jihoo suddenly stopped moving and turned toward me.
“Huh?
When did you get here?”
Ah, did I say that out loud?
I didn’t know. It just felt weird.
Yoon Jihoo continued wiping his sweat while practicing.
Leaning against the gym wall, I suddenly thought of something and spoke.
“Of.”
“Huh?”
“You haven’t been caught yet, right?”
Yoon Jihoo tilted his head.
“Huh?
Caught for what?”
I deliberately spoke slowly.
“You and the senior—”
“Hey, hey, hey!!”
Yoon Jihoo rushed over and covered my mouth in a panic.
“Ugh, you stink of sweat.
I almost threw up.”
I pried his hand off and said.
Yoon Jihoo looked dumbfounded.
“It’s not that bad, okay?
You’re just dramatic.
Lee Jian says the same thing.
You two are alike.”
“What?
No way.”
Unbelievable.
“She screams like she’s dying even if she barely trips.”
“What, you two know each other well?
You’ve gotten really close, huh?”
For a moment, I couldn’t respond and just scratched the back of my neck.
I felt embarrassed for no reason.
Yoon Jihoo glanced at me before stretching again.
“By the way, weren’t you cleaning with Lee Jian?
Where is she?”
At his words, my face stiffened.
My mood soured again.
I let out an irritated sigh and said,
“Because of you.”
“What?
Why are you picking a fight all of a sudden?”
“Forget it.”
Yoon Jihoo looked baffled, but I ignored him and walked toward the gym door.
I didn’t even know why I was feeling so annoyed.
On my way home alone, the streets were quiet.
It was the same route as always, but today, it felt strangely unfamiliar.
One by one, the shops turned off their lights, and the street lamps flickered on belatedly.
Their glow spread through the damp air, forming faint outlines.
The asphalt still retained the heat of the day.
The sound of slippers scraping the pavement faded into the distance, and the cicadas’ chirps came and went intermittently at each corner.
The distant hum of car engines, the figure of someone disappearing into an alley ahead.
Only the sounds of time quietly fading away remained.
A breeze from afar cooled my sweat.
I slowed my steps, shoving my hands into my pockets.
Scenery I had never paid attention to before.
When did this road become so quiet?
I hadn’t noticed when I had someone to walk with, but now that I was alone, the silence felt even sharper.
Under the streetlamp, I paused for a moment.
My sweat-drenched shirt clung to my skin before slowly cooling.
Being alone has always been natural for me.
But today, for some reason, the silence felt strangely unfamiliar.
A bug flew in from somewhere.
I waved my hand to shoo it away, but its tiny wings still buzzed around my ear.
I started walking again.
The streetlamp’s light stretched long across the road.
Even in the darkness of a summer night, the yellow glow shone brightly.
No matter where I went, it was never too far away, always illuminating me.
Somehow, they resembled each other.
The expression that breathed life into even the smallest things, the mischievous glimmer in the eyes.
They reminded me of Lee Jian.
I lifted my head and looked at the glow of the streetlight.
A light that remained even from a distance.
A light that seemed to stay by my side but was never something I could stand beside for too long.
I suddenly stopped walking.
…What am I doing?
It’s just a light.
I turned away and stepped into the darkness.
If I stayed in the light too long, I felt like I wouldn’t be able to step back anymore.
Like if I took one more step forward, I would cross into a place I could never return from.
Further away, to where the streetlight’s glow could not reach.
My shadow stretched long as I walked, as if I were running away.
“I was going to ask him to walk together with me.”
Before I could even open my mouth, Kim Dohyun had already left the classroom.
I blankly stared after him as my gaze slowly lowered.
The tips of my fingers, which had reached out to stop him, hovered in the empty air, meaningless.
Was I too hesitant?
Did I go too far with my teasing while we were cleaning?
Was I too close?
Was I too playful?
Was that why he left like he was running away?
My fingertips tingled slightly.
I slowly clenched and unclenched my fists, exhaling softly.
I thought we’d walk together, just like always…
Somehow, I felt embarrassed.
And right behind that feeling, a small sense of regret followed.
Pretending to tidy my desk, I just stared blankly at the floor.
The silent classroom.
For the first time, I felt like I had been left alone in this empty space.
In the end, I packed my bag and left the classroom as well.
On the way home, the summer evening air wrapped around my skin.
The asphalt, still holding onto the heat of the day, radiated warmth.
A humid breeze blew intermittently.
In the distance, I could faintly hear the chime of a store’s door opening and closing.
The cicadas were still crying endlessly.
One by one, the street lights flickered on, spreading their yellow glow.
I walked slowly.
Once, it had been natural to walk home alone like this.
But today, it felt awkward.
I never realized how quiet this road was when I had someone to walk with.
I kicked at the ground with the tip of my shoe.
A small pebble bounced forward, the sound of it hitting the pavement spreading heavily in the silence.
I pulled out my phone on impulse.
Maybe I had a message.
But there was nothing.
I knew there wouldn’t be, but still.
I put my phone back into my pocket.
A bicycle passed by in the distance.
The sound of its wheels spinning quickly faded, along with the laughter of the rider.
The road stretched on endlessly.
It felt like his figure should still be somewhere ahead.
But I couldn’t see him.
I lowered my head for no reason.
‘Maybe I shouldn’t have teased him.’
Should I have been more subtle?
Was I too casual with him?
Did I make him uncomfortable?
I ran through my thoughts over and over, then let out another sigh.
The summer evening air was thick and warm.
And yet, I felt strangely cold.
My shadow stretched long under the lights, the glow growing more distant.
I tried to shake off the chill, but it wasn’t easy.
So, I kept walking—alone.
The once-familiar path home felt oddly unfamiliar today.
At the bus stop, I was the only one there.
The passing cars brushed by the road, leaving behind short gusts of wind.
The bright glow of the streetlights spread over the heated asphalt.
I sat on the bench and placed my bag beside me.
I brushed the back of my neck with my hand.
The sweat from earlier still hadn’t completely dried.
There was no sign of the bus arriving soon.
I looked at the electronic display.
‘Arriving in 5 minutes.’
It wasn’t a long wait, but the time felt strangely slow.
Sitting still, my eyes landed on my shadow, stretched long beneath the streetlight.
I moved my foot slightly, and the shadow wavered with it.
A meaningless little game.
Leaning against the glass wall of the bus stop, I looked up at the sky.
Though the sun had long since set, faint traces of red still clung to the dark sky, like a lingering attachment.
Occasionally, a few people passed by.
The headlights of speeding cars cut through the night.
And then, silence again.
I waited for the bus.
Alone at the familiar stop, the usual passage of time felt excruciatingly long today.
Outside the bus stop, beyond the reach of the streetlights, was a patch of shadow.
A place untouched by the glow.
As the night deepened, the shadows grew darker.
Somehow, it reminded me of him.
It reminded me of Kim Dohyun.
A presence that seeped in quietly, even from afar.
Someone who always acted indifferent, but up close, his gaze would waver ever so slightly.
From inside the bus stop, I reached out my hand.
The boundary between the light and the dark.
The shadow looked like I could almost reach it.
But the moment I tried to grasp it, it felt like it would slip even further away.
In the end, my hand closed around nothing.
I slowly clenched my empty fist.
And, as if holding it close to my heart, I pulled my hand towards my chest.
Thump.
Thump.
I could feel the strong beat of my heart.
But in the end, my hand was empty.
The bus arrived.
And yet, for a brief moment, I couldn’t move.
Standing where the light reached, gazing at the place where the shadow receded.
Swallowing down a slight sense of regret, I quietly rose and stepped onto the bus.