Just Twilight

Junyoung didn’t care to question the source of the money. It wasn’t something she needed to know.

Whatever she’s doing, she owes me at least this much. If she had me without a second thought, the least she could do is take better care of me. If she’s not talented enough, she should sell her body, her organs, or whatever it takes to raise me less miserably than this!

That was the extent of Junyoung’s thoughts on the matter.

With her clear skin, glossy black hair, striking features that inspired envy, and a brain sharp enough to secure first place even in this rural backwater, she felt this kind of environment was unacceptable.

If only I had been born so ignorant that I didn’t even understand the concept of desire.

Then perhaps she could have been content living like the older girl in town who, without much thought, had a fling with the hardware store owner’s son, gotten pregnant, and married at 21.

But the life she tried to ignore had been poked at—by Oh Hye Soo.

"It’s not your fault your mom turned out that way."

...What does Hye Soo know about her mother?

Sitting at her desk, lost in thought with her pen in hand, Junyoung flinched when a hand smacked her head. She bit her lip as a bright red line slashed across her book.

“Hey, enough daydreaming. Just because you’re good at school doesn’t mean you get a free pass to slack off.”

Her face felt hot, but her mind went cold. The math teacher, nicknamed "Math," reeked of the alcohol he had clearly drunk the night before, even though it was already the afternoon.

Math had never treated her kindly. In fact, Junyoung knew he resented her.

At one point, he had invited her to join the math club, likely because of her talent and passion for the subject. But Math was always drunk, his murky eyes often roaming over the girls’ legs.

He would touch their arms or waists for no reason and occasionally use the long stick labeled “Rod of Love” to flip up girls’ skirts.

Though the exposure wasn’t extreme, his crude jokes would turn the incidents into “pranks,” and all the girls at school avoided him.

Junyoung had rejected his offer to join the math club three times, and after that, Math would pick fights with her whenever he had the chance.

The metallic taste of blood hinted that she’d bitten her lip too hard. Hearing some of her classmates stifling laughter, Junyoung clenched her fists.

If he had just challenged her with a math problem, she would have gladly put him in his place, but Math wasn’t foolish enough to give her such an opportunity. He always made sure she had no chance to assert dominance.

“You think teachers are a joke, huh? Just because you’re good at studying, our words mean nothing to you? What, planning to go to Seoul for college and forget all about us small-town nobodies? Listen here, kid, you need to learn some respect!”

With another flick of his hand, he rapped her head again. Junyoung’s brows shot up sharply, and Math, noticing this, eagerly grabbed the "Rod of Love" and began prodding her head.

“Look at that scowl! How is a teacher supposed to manage students like this? Everything I say is for your own good, kid. When adults talk, you listen!”

If someone had offered to kill this man right then in exchange for half her lifespan, Junyoung would have knelt and agreed without hesitation.

Sometimes, she cursed her overly rational mind. If I were the kind of person who acted on impulse without thinking, would they have left me alone?

“Oh, still scowling, huh? Hey, Yoon Jun—”

“Teacher.”

As Math raised the stick again, a voice rang out, interrupting him. Everyone’s eyes turned to Seungwoon, who had stood up, raising his hand awkwardly.

“Junyoung fainted yesterday because of me. If she’s having trouble focusing in class, I think it’s my fault. I apologize.”

Bowing deeply, Seungwoon drew Math’s attention. The teacher crossed his arms, glaring at him. But part of Seungwoon’s charm, why he was seen as the “prince,” was that even Math, who defied authority regularly, was lenient with him.

“Why would she faint because of you? Does Yoon Junyoung have a crush on you? Pining for you so much she can’t even sleep?”

The stick jabbed toward Seungwoon, whose ears turned red. He glanced at Junyoung, who was sitting rigidly, her gaze firmly fixed downward.

“No, it’s not like that... I mean, um…”

Suddenly, a loud BANG erupted, startling everyone in the classroom. Math flinched the hardest—it had come from right beside him, where something had slammed into the blackboard with force.

The culprit, a basketball, bounced on the floor. It was one of the shared balls students used during lunch.

Math’s head snapped around, searching for the perpetrator, but it wasn’t difficult to find him. Beomjin stood at the back of the room, rolling one shoulder as if he had just woken up. His messy hair, still tangled like a bird’s nest, completed the look.

Yawning lazily, Beomjin spoke in his usual gravelly voice.

“That kid was throwing balls like this earlier. You really shouldn’t throw things at people.”

“You, you…”

“Not me, though. I don’t throw things at people.”

Despite his disheveled hair, no one dared laugh at him. His sleepy eyes had sharpened, locking onto Math with a piercing intensity. It wasn’t hard to imagine him crouching low, ready to pounce at any moment.

The triangular tension between the three figures in the room was palpable. Even Math’s stick trembled slightly in his grip.

The bell rang, breaking the tension. Math, as if he’d found reinforcements, raised his voice.

“All three of you, turn in apology letters by the end of the day!”

He stormed out of the room, his steps hurried as if fleeing. The students began to chatter and whisper among themselves. Hye Soo tugged on Seungwoon’s sleeve.

“Why’d you step in? If you’d just stayed quiet, it would’ve blown over.”

“It was partly my fault.”

Seungwoon smiled gently and glanced at Junyoung and Beomjin.

Beomjin, ruffling his hair, let out a massive yawn and strolled out of the room like a predator on a casual walk. Junyoung, left behind in the midst of curious stares, sighed softly and picked up her pen again.

Her cold, fatigued expression betrayed no other emotion.

“By the way… is there something going on between Kwon Beomjin and Junyoung?” whispered someone nearby.

“Huh?”

Hye Soo perked up her ears and echoed the sound, but Seungwoon quickly shut his mouth, smiling sheepishly.

“Nothing. Forget it.”

He started to approach Junyoung to say something but stopped, sitting back down instead. Her words from that morning echoed in his mind.

Is this the effect of being told not to care? The more someone says not to, the harder it is to stop.

No.

I’ve been paying attention from the start.

Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, Seungwoon picked up his pen, mirroring Junyoung. Hye Soo and the other students chattered nearby, but his mind was elsewhere.

***

Typically, during self-study, a few students dominated the classroom with idle chatter, but today was different. More students than usual had stayed behind, stealing intrigued glances at three particular individuals.

Junyoung, quickly scribbling down predictable lines for her apology letter, paused when she heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back. She turned her head, though she usually wouldn’t, because she had a feeling about what was happening.

And her intuition was right.

Beomjin, slinging his bag over one shoulder, was heading out of the classroom.

He hadn’t written an apology letter, that much was obvious. Junyoung furrowed her brow.

Math wouldn’t dare use physical punishment on Beomjin—he lacked the nerve. Instead, he’d resort to more insidious and persistent methods to make his life difficult.

Of course, Beomjin wouldn’t care about that, but even this school had rules. Math was the type of teacher who knew how to weaponize those rules.

Junyoung didn’t want Beomjin to suffer any consequences because of this.

He must’ve thrown that basketball in such a violent manner because of her, not out of any personal grudge against Math.

She hadn’t expected him to so openly take her side.

It was bothersome, but also oddly flattering. That made her feel all the more compelled to stop him.

Rising from her seat quietly, she noticed the entire class turn to look at her. Though no one said it aloud, everyone must have been thinking the same thing.

It was the second time Kwon Beomjin had intervened in something involving Junyoung. The first incident could have been chalked up to a restroom mishap, but this one was more direct. Naturally, curiosity was brewing.

Junyoung clicked her tongue.

She liked the way things were between her and Beomjin. A private connection, untangled by the opinions of others. As long as they stayed out of the spotlight, Kwon Beomjin would never say something as absurd as “menstrual cramps” out loud again.

If this dynamic gets ruined, it’ll be your fault.@@novelbin@@

Pursing her lips, she quietly exited the classroom. Beomjin was striding purposefully down the hallway.

“Kwon Beomjin.”

She thought about pulling him aside to talk quietly, but that would only fuel the students’ curiosity. Instead, she approached him directly as he turned to glance at her, his brows furrowing slightly.

“Turn in your apology letter before you leave.”

If you don’t, Math will make your life miserable.

She extended her hand, hoping her message would get through without her needing to say more. Beomjin glanced at her briefly before turning away, his expression impassive.

“Hey.”

She quickly grabbed his wrist, but it only lasted a split second. Beomjin yanked his arm away with a force that felt almost brutal.

Junyoung’s eyes widened in shock. She could hear whispers behind her, but the humiliation was overshadowed by her surprise. Beomjin looked at her like she was nothing but a nuisance.

“Who do you think you are?”

His deep voice, resonant and cold, sent a chill through her. The words carried an icy finality that made her freeze. While Junyoung stood there, searching for something to say, Beomjin turned and walked away.

Her head buzzed as if she’d been struck, leaving her standing in place, dazed.