You followed the girls into the locker room after a short rehearsal. You had your mother drop off your hanbok earlier today which was not out of place as a few other girls also had their hanbok delivered. You the soothing silk ribbon of the knot for a second before pulling out the jacket or the top outerwear. At the bottom was the gauzy skirt. That was the first box. The second box had the underthings like the cotton pants and underdress made of a light and airy material and the special socks your mother had made for you. The last box contained your accessories such as the sash and the hair ornaments with dancing flats.

You were deliberate in your movements as you got dressed. You had learned to dress yourself at a young age which was practically a prerequisite in your line of dancing. As you fixed your hair, you were reminded of the time your mother had sprained her fingers and you had a recital the next day. As a result, she directed your father to fix your hair as she felt strongly about not letting anyone fix her daughter’s hair outside the family especially when it was dance related. That incident happened a good ten years ago but you could still recall the rugged way your father had tugged your hair into a bun. Your hair had got out of that bun halfway through your recital which you had been admonished for by your teacher then but you had learned your lesson. Your mother soon got to teaching you the style that was more prevalent for the dances you performed.

You were careful as you replaced the tissue paper in the boxes and wrapped the ornaments you didn’t use back in the silk it came with to protect it from scratches, smudges and scuff marks. You were reassured when the teaching assistant called everyone to the hallway for a small inspection done by the teacher.

Your teacher didn’t leave you with encouraging words but rather a stern look. You held your fans to the side as she took you in with a scrutinizing gaze. When she moved on to the next girl, you were feeling relieved for going through that inspection. You were thankful when the assistant locked the dance studio especially because of how precious your ornaments were as most of them were family heirlooms.

You all glided down the empty hallway to the stairs but remained behind the teacher as the assistant helped her down the stairs. Joori as the lead, was right behind her and the order following her was the order that you would all line up once you all attempted the petal line.

On the ground floor, everyone walked down the hall to the auditorium. Your group was one of the first performers to arrive. All that was left to do was to wait until you all were announced. The student body soon gathered in the auditorium and the chattering of the crowd reached the backstage. Your group got looks from the other performers with the majority of the staff complimenting you all on your outfits.

Too fast for your liking, you were called to the stage.

With the fan held out in front of you, you followed the procession of the girls in a spiral that was flowing from one end of the stage to the other. At the center, Joori was doing her solo. You really liked the visual the hanboks provided to the dance. It was akin to color changed leaves fluttering to the ground as the majority of the skirts were bright lethargic colors. Yours was the only pale green skirt and it found its place amongst the colors as a new leaf sapling. Joori’s skirt was a faded yellow that resembled gold so it was only enhancing her solo dance. The different colors was rather unconventional because the image a buchaechum dance presents to the audience is more riveting when all of the dancers are dressed in the same style and same colors but you were never going to question your teacher on this so it was best to think too much about it.

You got onto the flats of your toes to perform a lazy spin as you spun away from the closest girl. You timed your arm movements into a graceful arc that was meant to be entrancing as everyone else did the same though in deliberate different directions. At the last second, everyone spun in the same direction to group up in a collective unit while attaching one end of the fans to one another’s. An illusion was created once all of you moved in tandem.

For the ending pose, the budding flower blowing in a breeze was created and it took a second for the applause to follow the fading sounds of the drum and traditional song to die down.

The applause was a polite one if anything. Then you heard your name. A boy was shouting it. And it was Jinsik.

“Whoo Taeri!”

You could feel your cheeks radiating heat as you all ended with an elegant bow that went with the image of the dance utilizing the fans.

As soon as you were off stage, you handed the fans to the teaching assistant.

You were directed back to the locker room to change so your class missed a few performances before you rejoined the student body. There were a few seats in the balcony that the assistant led your group to but the teacher had left after bluntly saying how the music for all of the other performances were too loud.

She was accurate with that as the performances were mostly dance based but your class’s dance was the only one of its genre while the majority contained pop, hip hop, or EDM influences. The singers/rappers were similar with ballads thrown in. Overall, it reminded you of a talent show but that did not take away the time those students put into their preparation, training and practices. In a way, your dance was a talent that you took pride in for its traditional values. It could be the same for the other students about their own fields with myriads of their own reasons.

The end of the show meant the teachers leading the students back to their respective classrooms. Now back in your uniform, you felt a little better being able to blend in with the crowd. It was back on the ground floor when you saw your parents and brother. At the sight of the latter, you couldn’t believe you had forgotten to go to your locker to get the cookies for him. You asked the teaching assistant to speak with you parents and she allowed it as you weren’t the only one whose parents traveled to make the recital.

“Good job Taeri,” Hyuntae pulled you into a side hug followed by your father. Your mother fully gathered you into her arms and she gave you a tight squeeze.

“You should have been the solo,” she mumbled low enough only for you to hear.

You felt yourself flush at her words. “Thank you for making it.”

“Just make sure you take care of the boxes until after school. I need to drop off my car back at the apartment and then your father will pick me up. Your brother will be the one to pick you up and you’ll both meet your father and I at the restaurant.”

“Just name the place baby sister,” you pushed away Hyuntae’s hands from pinching your cheek.

You muttered, “I’m not a baby.” Your eyes checked your surroundings to see if anyone heard him.

“Leave your sister alone Hyuntae. She probably need to get to class now,” your father observed the students who were trudging back to class up and down the main hallway.

Knowing you were dismissed, you smiled at them all once again. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Good job our baby,” Hyuntae got in as you were about to turn away.

Your mother rolled her eyes, “Aigoo, leave you sister alone.”

You waved at them as you joined the line behind the assistant. You were relieved to see them your family in such a setting. Your heart always felt at ease whenever you met with your family after a recital. To you, it meant family time. Even for just a day.

Once back in the dance studio, you greeted your teacher while expressing your gratitude with a bow from you and your dance partners. The teacher didn’t say anything but let your class have free time for the remaining time. You used that time to pack everything in its proper place even though you knew your mother would redo everything anyway. You kept the boxes in sight as you joined a few girls in a small study group for a test tomorrow.

Close enough for you to overhear their conversation sat another group of girls who were comparing their hanbok and accessories with one another. You didn’t have to look at the teacher or her assistant to see the displeasure written in their disposition. Bragging about the materials of a dance just wasn’t appropriate in their view. You’d learned that at a young age thanks to a previous teacher who scolded girls for such a display at a level that still brought embarrassment to you to this day.

So it surprised you when neither instructor did anything about it. You let it go to focus on your notes.

The last bell of the day went off and you all bowed to both teachers once again. You double checked your boxes in the bag your mother brought them in as you left the studio. You knew Hyuntae would be waiting outside for you at that moment as you and your brother knew better to keep your parents waiting.

When you saw Jinsik waiting for you outside the door, you had mixed feelings. You were flattered but distressed as you felt pressed for time to get to your brother. Polite ways to turn him away ran through your mind as you stopped just outside the door. He saw you and smiled before walking over to you. A few girls shot looks between you two but he didn’t seem to notice as he reached for the bag containing your precious hanbok.

“I can carry that for you Taeri.”

“I-,” your voice sounded loud to you as your hand tightened on the bag’s straps. You knew you had to be firm about this. Especially concerning your hanbok.

You were grateful he caught on to your hesitation, “Ah. If you want to carry it then…” he trailed off but placed his hand back by his side. “I just thought I would try to be polite,” he chuckled.

You felt your insides squirm at that. “No, I,” you stopped. “It’s just.” You hadn’t thought of an appropriate way of letting him know you would never let a complete stranger touch your hanbok.

He smiled as he patted your shoulder. “It’s fine Taeri. I don’t understand but it’s fine.” He shrugged but kept his hand on your shoulder. “Do you want me to walk you to the gates outside?” His hand gave a light squeeze.

“Jinsik? Hey, can I ask a favor?” A boy’s voice asked from behind you.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, indicating for you to turn around to face the newcomer. “Shoot.” Jinsik smiled at his friend.

“Can I borrow your notes for history tomorrow?” You briefly met the idol boy’s eyes for a second before he looked at Jinsik.

“We have a test for history tomorrow?” Jinsik’s expression became confused. He looked down at you as he brought you closer to him with his hold on you. “I don’t think we have  test though?.”

“You have Teacher Park, don’t you?”

“He teaches first years. I’m a second year.” He now had an arm around your shoulder. You could feel the weight and it gave you tingles. He smiled down at you and you tentatively returned it.

“Ah, Right. Sorry,” you looked over at the other boy who was scratching the back of his head. “Sorry hyung. I forgot you were a year older than me for a moment.”

Your body was now directed toward Jinsik’s. “No problem Jungkook. You know Taeri here right?”

“Ye