The transition was a violent, sensory assault. One moment, Se-na was wrapped in the bread-scented safety of the crane quilt, her small hand tucked into the grandmother's palm, lulled by the steady rhythm of a protector's breathing. The next, the world as if had exploded.
A chair leg screeched against the floor like a scream. The rhythmic, heavy thud-thud-thud of a ball echoed in the hallway. The air was no longer cool and quiet; it was thick, humid, and heavy with the smell of old floor wax, chalk dust, and the stifling, metallic scent of thirty teenagers crammed into a room on a restless afternoon.
Se-na's eyes snapped open.
"Where...?"
She wasn't in the small bedroom. She was sitting at a hard wooden desk that felt far too small. The soft bear pajamas were gone, replaced by the stiff, itchy fabric of a boy's high school uniform. In front of her lay a science book, open to a chapter on cellular biology.
Her heart hammered a frantic, irregular rhythm. She looked down at her hands. They weren't the soft, small hands of a six-year-old anymore. They were larger, the fingers longer and calloused. She turned them over, watching the way the veins popped against the back of her hands, strong, sturdy, and masculine.
"Damn..." the word escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her voice was deeper now, cracking with the awkward resonance of puberty.
I was sleeping, she thought, her mind spinning in a dizzying circle. I was in my pajamas. Do-hyun joo made a commotion. Old woman slapped him, then she put me to sleep. She again looked at her body. How did I grow? How is it daytime?
She turned her head and looked around the room, her brain trying to categorize the chaos. It was a theater of teenage idiocy. In one corner, a group of girls were huddled together, squealing over a collection of glittery plushy key chains on their school bags. Near the window, two boys were inexplicably sniffing each other's hair to see whose shampoo was better, se-na almost gagged and looked away instantly; paper airplanes darted through the air like erratic, white birds. And then her breath hitched as her gaze traveled to the back of the room. There, in the very last row, slumped against the wall, she saw herself.
It was unmistakable. It was Maeng Se-na at fifteen. She was wearing the girls' high school uniform, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was sleeping, her head resting on her folded arms. She looked exhausted.
Me? Is that really me?
The logical part of her brain was screaming, but the human part was desperate. If she was in Ra-ik's body, was the real Ra-ik trapped in hers? Was he that girl in the back row, drowning in a life he didn't understand? Is he like me? Trapped?
She stood up so quickly that her chair nearly toppled and started toward the back of the room, her long legs moving with a focus that was entirely at odds with Ra-ik's usual cool shuffle. But she didn't care she just want to reach to herself and ask what she feared.
She hadn't made it three steps before a wall of teenage muscle blocked her path.
In her head, she was still the Chief Surgeon. She was ready to bark a command, to demand they move aside, but she forgot that she was no longer wearing the white coat and was actually a young boy in peak of his youth, then a heavy arm dropped around her neck, pulling her into a suffocating headlock.
"Ra-ik-a! You've postponed us enough times!" a boisterous voice boomed in her ear.
Se-na froze. The arm felt like a lead pipe. She looked up at the boy, he was a tall, grinning teenager with sweat on his forehead and the boundless, irritating energy of youth.
"Don't tell me you have to go back early to help your grandma again," the boy teased, his grip tightening playfully but firmly. "We must play basketball today! No excuses!"
Se-na's mind raced. Basketball? She had never picked up a ball in her life. Her hobbies were suturing techniques and medical journals.
"Ahh... no. You see, I have to..." she stuttered, her voice high and thin. She tried to channel her inner authority, but it felt like wearing a suit three sizes too big. "I have something urgent to attend to. Let me go."
"Please, Ra-ik!" the boy pleaded, his face mock-serious. "Okay, look…if you play with us today, we'll all go and help your grandma with her chores for a whole week. We'll carry the groceries, sweep the yard, any and everything. What do you say?"
Se-na managed to twist out of the arm lock, smoothing her uniform with a sharp, indignant gesture.
"Next time," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "Lets play next time."
But the boys wouldn't have it.
"Ah, ah, ah... Thomas!!! not today!" The boy's tone shifted. "You cannot skip the game today! Boys, get him!"
Before she could retreat to the back of the room, two other boys flanked her. They grabbed her arms with the casual, overwhelming strength of their age. Being a woman se-na was flushing being hurled by a group of boys. She tried to set herself free but it was no use against the strong boys. The one who had been pleading now stepped behind her, placing his palms on her shoulder blades and shoving her forward.
"Hey! Let go! This is... this is an assault!" Se-na barked, but her voice was a high-pitched squeak that carried no weight in this room.
The classroom erupted in laughter. To them, it was just boys being boys, a bit of roughhousing with the kid.
As they dragged her toward the door, Se-na twisted her head back one last time, desperate for a sign from the girl in the back row.
The commotion had finally woken her. The younger Maeng Se-na lifted her head slowly. Her eyes; Se-na's own dark, sharp, analytical eyes, were fixed on the boy being hauled out of the room.
There was no recognition in them. There was no warmth. The girl just sat there, watching the scene with a dead stare. It was a look of pure, frozen indifference. It was the look of a girl who had already decided that other people's problems were a waste of her time.
And then, the door swung shut, and Se-na was swept out into the noisy, terrifying current of the school hallway, leaving her own self behind in the shadows.
.
I work hard to keep this story going for everyone. If you find it interesting, kindly consider supporting this work with a cup of coffee. Every contribution helps me improve and grow 🤝
patreon accuscripter