When ice crystals in clouds fall, but evaporate before hitting the ground. 

“As you probably already know, your grades have earned you a pretty low academic rank. And by pretty low, I mean, bottom fifteen.”

In a world with so many places to visit, so many dreams to dream, so many people to help… who would get upset over school results?

The senior student carefully cracked his knuckles one by one, while fixing his gaze on the pearls of rain that glided down the window. Most went straight to the ground. Quite frequently, two droplets would adjoin and plunge towards the earth with an even greater speed. 

“…Kids like you bring down the entire average..." 

The boy laid eyes on several raindrops that isolated themselves from the majority and stuck on the window for just a bit longer. Were they lonely? Waiting for another droplet to crash into them and bring them to a final destination? Or were they rather trying to resist the system, reluctant to make the fall?

“...I’m sure you’re a good kid, but we do not tolerate lazy students."

Was it a cliché to think people were like rain? It’s true though, isn’t it? However, people tend to compare themselves to drizzles and hurricanes and whatnot when in fact we’re all just teeny tiny dots on a humongous globe. What makes us think we’re as significant as a storm?

“...We take this matter very seriously."

The boy nodded his head as he formulated his theory. They may all be unique, but raindrops look identical to most of us. You don’t really notice them individually, until a single one decides to fall into the eye you’re trying to see with, or on the cigarette you were just about to smoke. It’s probably the same with people in the world.

“...The school board has decided to take measures against your careless attitude.”

Coming to think of it… what if every raindrop is trying to convey a personal message? It could be a cry for help, a message of joy, a warning, anything really. But instead of trying to listen, people carry umbrellas, newspapers and other items over their heads in an attempt to keep themselves dry. To shield themselves from what’s going on around them.

“Kim Jongin, are you even listening to me?!”

The sound of his name pulled the boy back into reality. He had been leaning back in his chair and almost lost his balance. 

While his mind had been wandering off, Principal Jung had stood up in fury. His complexion was now a deep shade of red. The man looked like a bottle of ketchup that had been filled up so much that it could explode at any minute. 

Jongin glanced at the ugly Principal’s face that always seemed to be covered with boils and blemishes. The boy started grinning when he noticed little beads of sweat trickling down from his receding hairline. It amused him that water was versatile enough to be so indescribably beautiful one minute, and repulsive the next.

“You don’t have any respect, do you? Little rascal! I ought to kick you out at this very second!”

Jongin’s eyes widened when he snapped back to reality once more. He stood up and started bowing at the Principal. “I’m sorry Principal Jung! I don’t mean to defy your authority. I just find it very difficult to concentrate on what’s before me! Please do not think of me as lazy, I study for hours and hours everyday but I just lack productivity!"

The Principal balled his hands into tight fists as he sat back down in his seat. He paused for a moment, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. After taking a sip of water from the glass on his desk, he continued: “These days, everybody has concentration problems! I’m sick of it! People keep telling me things about all kinds of ‘diseases’ and ‘disorders’ like depression, attention deficit disorder… Does the younger generation really think I’m that stupid?! None of you can fool me! Those aren’t diseases, they’re merely excuses for lazy people to hide behind! In my time, we had real diseases. Ever heard of swine flu? Tuberculosis? Hmm? Those are diseases, got it?! They damage your body, even kill you! If the body shows no sign of illness, it’s not a disease - it’s an excuse. And everyone knows I hate excuses!”

Jongin obediently kept his head down. “I’m sorry sir. I try really hard, but I’ll work even harder on my concentration in the future!”

The old man turned around in his chair and pressed his fingertips together. “You never seem to listen to a word I say, Kim,” he spoke in a menacing tone. His gaze focused on the rainy cityscape that could be seen through the window. "I want you to see Ms. Kang after class. She’ll be in charge of disciplining you. I give you a month to raise your rank up to the school average or higher. In other words, you’ll have to rank 82^nd place or above.”

Jongin raised his head. “Thank you for your patience, sir! I’ll work hard!”

“Give me actions Kim, not words. Now scram.”

With those words, Jongin grabbed his bag from the floor and rushed out of Principal Jung’s office. Or, as he liked to call him, Principal Pimple.

Later that day, Jongin found himself climbing up an endless spiral staircase towards the tower of the academy building. He’d first thought of ‘disciplining’ as something that involved strict military training, but apparently Ms. Kang’s classroom was indoors. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it most certainly couldn’t be good. His classmates had laughed at him when he asked them about the whereabouts of the mysterious guru he was to pay a visit. Apparently this Kang-woman liked to keep to herself, barely leaving her own classroom. Jongin had tried to shake off his expectations since they’re usually pointless, but he couldn’t help but visualize an old cranky witch in a long purple gown with a tobacco-filled pipe dangling from the corner of .

If The Pimple approves of these extra classes, she must be a total nightmare.

When the boy reached the top of the staircase, he encountered a dark wooden door with an invisible haze of tobacco smoke coming from the other side. He rolled his eyes and scoffed audibly. The smell of cigarettes didn’t necessarily bother him - in fact he would light one up himself every now and then. What amazed him was that his expectation, part of it at least, had turned out to be true. It was now confirmed: Jongin was seconds away from meeting some type of witch who would punish him until his grades would rise to impossible standards.

After pushing himself through the heavy door, Jongin laid eyes on a young man smoking a fragrant black cigarette while seated on top of the teacher’s desk. He sported an oversized black dress shirt, tucked into matching black trousers that were rolled up over his ankles. Underneath, he wore white platform tennis shoes that sharply contrasted with the rest of his outfit. His cat-like eyes were contoured with scarlet eyeliner. The man reminded Jongin of one of those male models in the Japanese Vogue: he looked unconventional and rather feminine, but he blended in with his surroundings in a surprisingly natural, aesthetic way.

“You must be Jongin. Make yourself at home, please,” the man spoke in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, all the while staring at the blue smoke dancing towards the sky.

Jongin carefully approached the monochrome figure. “Excuse me… I’m not sure, eh- I was supposed to see Ms. Kang.”

The reply he received was simple. “This is she.”

Slightly bewildered, Jongin looked around. It was only now that he took note of the unusual classroom. It was round and spacious, with white walls and a black wooden floor. Every side of the room seemed to have a large window, offering an impressive view of the academy and its surroundings. There were no chairs and no desks, Ms. Kang’s large table being an exception. In fact, the classroom lacked any type of furnishing. There were two stacks against the wall, one with bamboo mats neatly rolled up, the other with cushions.

Jongin also realized there were three more students in the classroom, two boys and one girl. He had seen, but never spoken to them before. They were seated on the mats and pillows provided. The senior walked over to the stacks and retrieved something to sit on himself. He gave Ms. Kang a questioning glance, but he (she?) simply motioned for him to sit anywhere in the room he felt comfortable. The boy finally settled close to Ms. Kang’s desk, determined to keep his attention the best he could.

“Alright. Now that we’re complete, I want to explain some things to you. Just to save you the trouble of raising your hand and awkwardly asking me things,” Ms. Kang began. “Unless you want to of course. Feel free.” She (he?) paused for a moment, softly ridding the black cigarette of any excess ash with a lean finger.

“My name is Kang Jinsil. Call me Jinsil, I don’t mind. Yes, I am a woman, though I might not always dress like one. I’m 32 years old. I teach special classes in Efficiency. My face isn’t known amongst the majority of the students, I like keeping to myself. I also like drawing. Principal Jung hates me and I will tell you this: the feeling is mutual. However, I have my own personal reasons for working here, and Jung has his own reasons for not getting rid of me. I smoke Black Devils, vanilla cigarettes, and I smoke them indoors. I’m not trying to set an example here. Rat me out if you feel a strong desire to do so.”

The students chuckled at the woman’s description of her own mischievousness. Jongin couldn’t help but wonder why he’d never known about the woman’s existence before. Never had he met anyone like her.

Next up, Jinsil asked the students to introduce themselves. The two boys, Minkyung and Dongmin were both sophomores. The girl was a transfer junior student named Chohee. All of them were struggling with some kind of mental barrier that was preventing them from performing well academically. Jongin was pretty relieved he wasn’t the only one dealing with such problems. Jinsil carefully took in their words and pondered over them, nodding every now and then. The boy noticed that she was taking them seriously, and grinned when he realized that this could be a reason that Principle Pimple disliked the woman.

“Alright,” she concluded, “I think it’s time to introduce the method we’re going to be using in the coming weeks.“ She dropped the Black Devil into her a silver ashtray. “Judging from what I hear, I feel like you all have specific troubles that can definitely be treated, but ordinary treatment would take a while. Jung is pretty notorious for his ‘performance deadlines’, so I assume you don’t have time for any long-term projects. Instead, I’ll use an experimental training that will hopefully get you on the right track. It’s a risk, but I really think my classes could be beneficial – that is, if you devote yourself enou-.”

“Are you going to tell us what we’ll be doing or not? I don’t have all day you know,” Minkyung impatiently interrupted.

Jinsil shot him a stern glare. “Patience is virtue, young grasshopper,” she spoke in a deep voice with a hint of mocking. Next, she raised herself up in one eccentric motion. Standing on the desk, she stretched out an arm and grabbed hold of a little string that hung from the ceiling. She then jumped off the table, pulling a large piece of textile that had mechanically been rolled up in the ceiling down with her.  The students gasped at the sight in front of them.

The screen was made out of white cotton. A very large graphite sketch had been pinned in the middle, and was surrounded by maybe twenty smaller drawings. The images had been created with great precision, and had some sort of mystic aura around them. Jongin had never seen anything like them before and was instantly envious of the creator’s great skill.

“D-Did you make those?” the girl asked.

“Yes, I did,” Jinsil coolly responded, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary. She stretched out an arm and pointed at the collage she had just pulled out. “Who knows what this is?”

“A castle, right?” Dongmin tried.

“Well, yes. This is a palace. The big sketch shows us the exterior; the smaller ones make up the interior. What was the first thing you noticed about these drawings?”

The students remained silent for a while. This time, Jongin raised his hand.

“You don’t have to raise your hand in my classes, Jongin.”

“Sorry. Eh- Yes. The first thing I noticed was the great precision in the drawings. It seems like the artist studied the palace closely and is very fond of the place.”

“A very good observation, Jongin.” Jinsil’s lips broadened into a wide smile. “Last question: who knows what palace this is?”

The girl spoke up again. “It’s Versailles. The accuracy isn’t completely on point and there are a lot of mistakes but it still resembles Versailles. Definitely.”

“It looks more like the Schönnbrunn Palace in Vienna. Given, they’re pretty similar in architecture, but the garden and the ballroom don’t look French enough to be part of Versailles,” Minkyung argued.

"The lay-out is unmistakably Versaillesque," she protested.

"Don't test me, Chohee, I know what I'm talking about." 

"So do I! What makes you thi-"

"Stop wasting energy. You're both wrong," Jinsil interrupted. "It might have been a trick question. This palace is mine. I own it. It's a place I love spending time in." 

The students' jaws dropped to the floor. This woman continued to amaze. 

"Are you serious?" Dongmin asked while rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Jinsil confirmed that she was indeed serious.

"Right," Minkyung rudely spoke. "So why is it that I've never seen any pictures of such a palace before? Something as impressive as that must surely be listed in books, right?"

"It's rather hidden," the teacher simply responded.

Jongin raised his hand again. Jinsil flashed him a smile, reminding him of the fact that she didn't expect such polite behaviour from him.

"May I ask where it's located? Is it here in South-Korea?" he asked.

Jinsil placed her fingertips on the sides of her head. "Here," she said, "my palace is right here." 

“You can’t be serious,” Minkyung scoffed. “What are you, some kind of lunatic?”

Jinsil chuckled. “Perhaps I am, but I can assure you that I’m very serious about this. If you’d keep an open mind, you’d realize that this technique is not only commonly applied, but also very helpful to some of us.”

“Not to be rude, but I don’t see how any of us could do better in school by wandering off to some kind of dreamland,” Chohee stated as she folded her legs over one another.

“Well,” Jinsil replied, “there have been many people that have made tremendous advances through Mind Palaces. I’m just saying.”

“Oh yeah?” Minkyung continued, “like who?”

“Me.” The teacher lit another cigarette and hopped back onto the desk. “Like me.”

With that, Minkyung grabbed his belongings, stood up and headed towards the door. “I’m not wasting my time on this crap.”

“Suit yourself, young man.” A puff of smoke escaped from Jinsil’s parted lips. “By the way, pupils, remember you are free to walk out at anytime. Guiding people towards something they don’t believe in is a waste of time, for all of us. Do not hesitate, at all.”

The door slammed shut and the remaining students kept quiet. Jinsil stared into the distance, running a slender hand through her black, half-long hair.

Just when Jongin was about to raise his hand again, the woman hopped off her desk and walked through the classroom. “Right! Let’s get started. You’re probably still a bit confused, but we’ll take it step by step.”

Jongin’s eyes remained fixed on the sketches at the front of the classroom. As he studied them carefully, he kept his ears open to Jinsil’s instructions.

“Essentially, mind palaces are a place of refuge. They’re not tangible, that is true, but I believe reality is more than what meets the eye. If you feel it, it’s real enough. I’m going to teach you how to occupy a palace of your own in the coming weeks. It takes dedication, imagination and concentration, but I believe each and everyone of us is capable enough if we set out minds to it.”

Jongin found himself wandering through the drawings while listening. He was amazed by how vivid the appeared to be. Would he really be able to create something like that?

Meanwhile, Jinsil continued. “Now you must all wonder what can be achieved by building a mental palace. Well, it’s up to you. They can be for storing information, which could help you in your studies. Some people create them because they’re lonely and desire company. Yes, it is indeed possible to imagine other characters in it as well, but that’s something one has to be very, very careful with. It- …Let’s just get to that later. As I was saying, most people just crave an escape from their surroundings, a place to find peace. For now, it is important to choose a main purpose for your future palace. Keep it to yourself: I do not expect you to share things with me that you don’t want to share. Think about it for a few minutes.”

Careful not to bombard her pupils with too much information, Jinsil stopped in front of a window and stared outside for a while. Jongin took the opportunity to think about what he desired most. Apparently, there were many purposes one could assign to a project like this. Right now, the most important thing to him was his grades. Throughout the years, his concentration problems had grown out into something barely manageable. Everything around him formed a distraction. He couldn’t manage to filter out the relevant from the irrelevant, so his brain would often overwork itself and feel like it was about to explode. He needed a place to flee to, a place where he could concentrate and organize his thoughts. Perhaps creating a mental palace wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Everybody ready?” the teacher spoke after several minutes.

The students nodded obediently.

“Good. Don’t forget, decisions like this aren’t definite. Don’t make things to complicated for yourself. Now, let’s see…” Jinsil threw the cigarette stump in the ashtray on the desk and sat down on the floor, right before the three students. “We’re going to be building a place for you, and you alone. How would you want it to look, do you guys have an idea?”

“No,” Chohee stated, “could you be more specific?”

Jinsil smiled. “Well… the possibilities are endless. The most I can do is provide you with some inspiration. It’s called a ‘mind palace’, but it doesn’t have to be some sort of royal framework. It could be a large cruise ship… a beach with white sand and palm trees… a library… a forest, a meadow, a sky… or even just a square empty white room, maybe with a chair in it. Or a block of cheese lying on a table. Anything- it really doesn’t matter at this point. The first thing you think of is sufficient for now. As I said, nothing is definite. Close your eyes and let it come to you.”

Before shutting his eyes, Jongin glanced at the other two students who were sitting next to him. They had frowns on their faces and looked confused. They’re holding up umbrellas against the rain, he thought to himself.

When he closed his eyes, he saw the inside of his eyelids. Nothing more, nothing less. He tried hard to envision something, anything really, but he couldn’t concentrate hard enough. After a minute or two he reopened his eyes. He looked around and saw Chohee and Dongmin with their eyes shut tightly. Jinsil made eye contact with him and gave him an encouraging smile. Slightly flustered, he smiled back at the woman before closing his eyelids and trying again.

A moment passed. Jongin wondered how long he’d been trying, and how long it would take for his teacher to break off the session. But just as he was about to give up completely, he transported to another world.

In a matter of seconds, Jongin was soaked from head to toe. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead and his wet school uniform desperately clung to his body. The downpour consisted of big, heavy raindrops that systematically plunged onto his head and shoulders. The air around him was of a pleasant temperature, but the rain felt like a cold shower. The boy started shivering as he looked around helplessly. He was standing on a gigantic square made of grey bricks. There were no buildings or people around him: all he had was the floor, the rain and himself. Any form of shelter was abundant. Hiding away was no option; apparently, all he could do was stand there in the rain and enjoy it. He tilted his head towards the grey sky, closed his eyes and opened his mouth wide.

As fast as he had left it behind, the boy was transported back into the round classroom. His chest heaved as he attempted to catch his breath, trying to process what had just happened to him. He noticed that the others were staring at him, eyes full of anticipation.

“Are you alright, Jongin?” Jinsil calmly asked. “You’re back in my classroom. Take a few deep breaths.”

The boy just nodded, his mind still spinning from the sudden change of surroundings.

“Well done guys,” the teacher complimented. “Would someone perhaps like to share what they just witnessed?”

“Eh…” Dongmin started, “All I saw was a block of smelly cheese lying on a table.”

Chohee started laughing, but Jinsil simply nodded. “Alright. You probably thought of that because of my example earlier on. It must have stuck with you somehow. Don’t worry, we’ll see further progress later on. The fact that you even managed to see something is a good sign. And who knows, cheese might be able to provide some great company.” She then turned to the female student. “Chohee, how about you?”

“I didn’t see anything,” she simply answered.

“That’s okay. Keep trying, alright? You’ll get there. …Jongin?”

The boy’s head jolted back towards Jinsil’s direction. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to share what you saw? You don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“Well… Eh… I w-was in the rain. It felt so real, like my clothes were wet and everything. There wasn’t much except for rain and the ground I was standing on. No place to hide.”

Jinsil frowned. “I see. Well, imagining weather conditions and a tangible floor are actually some of the first steps into building a climate for you surroundings. I must say I’m impressed. Don’t sweat it: you’ll be able to create some sort of shelter to protect yourself from the rain eventually.”

Jongin’s expression relaxed as his lips formed a vague smile. “I’m not sure if I want to protect myself.”

A/N: Hello there, dear reader! Welcome to Common Ground ^^

You might've noticed that this chapter in particular is quite fast-paced at some points. The reason for this is that we're following Jongin's trail of thoughts from his point of view, and obviously... he gets distracted pretty easily. As a reader, it might be a bit confusing at times - mainly because I tried to capture the confusion of Jongin's character in my writing ;)

Anyway, thanks for reading! Your support means a lot to me, please anticipate what's yet to come!

♥ pominizz ♥