Kim Yeo-ju was an ordinary girl from birth. She possessed a flawless personality and no particular family history. However, the world operates on objectivity, not subjectivity, and as the days passed, Kim Yeo-ju found herself treated as something of a peculiar person. She couldn't speak. It wasn't that she couldn't speak out against this injustice; she just couldn't speak. It had been a while since she'd felt the wind brushing her vocal cords.
"Ah... right. The female protagonist is..."
"···."
"Anyway, it's good to see you here. This is the first time a transfer student has come to this class, so the kids will be happy to see you."
Everyone was so... well-behaved. Kim Yeo-ju was happy, no matter what. She visited the principal's office, her bag slung over her shoulder. The middle-aged man, who seemed to be her homeroom teacher, looked somewhat flustered after seeing the bold writing on the paper. A small sigh escaped her, as if she'd been burdened with a headache, and she fiddled with her bag strap. Thanks to her parents' frequent business trips, transferring schools was a nearly monthly process, but she never got used to this situation. Kim Yeo-ju hated the bitter silence.
"Okay, okay. Those who are lying down, get up."
The next thing I hate. The sound of the attendance sheet being slammed on the desk filled the classroom unfamiliarly. Soon, scattered gazes converged on Kim Yeo-ju, who sat idly beside her. The silence was fleeting. She suddenly felt the heat. It didn't suit the season when leaves were falling in a flurry, but whatever. The tangled attention was too hot. She ran her thumb and index finger along the hem of her skirt, which had been folded up.
"As I announced yesterday, the transfer student arrived..."
The homeroom teacher glanced at Kim Yeo-ju once.
"He has some difficulty speaking, so please take good care of him."
"···."
"The name is Kim Yeo-ju."
That was it. As soon as he finished, he gestured to the back corner of the classroom. The only empty seat among the crowded chairs was the one he liked most in the entire school. Indifference was better than half-baked interest. Kim Yeo-ju crossed the classroom with slightly impatient steps. A different gaze from earlier glared at her whole body without filter. ... Hey, so she can't speak? Someone on her right asked. "Uh... That's right." Someone on her left replied. Fortunately, they didn't call her mute here. That alone made it bearable.
"···."
It wasn't until she settled into her chair that she realized there was someone next to her. She'd been lying face down the whole time, so she must've missed them earlier. She'd been worried about her deskmate being an overly obsessive humanoid, but seeing the boy next to her lying motionless on his desk, Kim Yeo-ju realized her worries were unfounded. Soon after, the first period bell rang. It was a relief to arrive at the classroom near the end of break after school assembly. Coming early would only mean getting a big ol' snack. As she unzipped her bag, a teacher came in through the open front door.
"Oh, there."
And then he pointed out Kim Yeo-ju exactly.
"Wake up the kid sleeping next to you."
Perhaps they hadn't heard that she had just transferred, or perhaps they simply couldn't be bothered to even consider it, but they suddenly entrusted a crucial task to a child who was blinking. The entire classroom turned around in unison. Even more attention was focused on her than when she had stood before the teacher's desk. As if pitying her. Unfortunately, Kim Yeo-ju couldn't decipher the meaning behind it. She desperately wanted to shake it all off. Unable to make a sound, she had to at least show some gesture. She patted her deskmate's forearm.
Swish -
He slowly sat up, his sound sleep rendered meaningless. Even the slightest movement caused his hair to flutter. Kim Yeo-ju sometimes applied black-and-white logic to the world. Those who liked me and those who disliked me. The line, as clear as good and evil, became blurred only at an unexpected juncture. Her brows were furrowed in irritation, and she met his dark brown eyes. Behind those empty eyes, something indecipherable abounded.
So, Min Yoongi, he is.
"··· What is this?"
He was a person who didn't belong to anything.