She loses the necklace. He loses his temper.

They’re standing on opposite ends, on the otherwise empty Council Room. A small desk table separates them, and Bogum runs his fingers through his hair in frustration when Joohyun apologizes once again.

“I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?” She finally says, tempers running high, but her tone does nothing to placate him. An angry lilt is barely disguised through a thin veil of indifference Joohyun sets on her face.

Sorry doesn’t cut it, nor will it bring it back. He wants to shout.

He lets out an unpleased grunt.

“I know, I just—“ words fail him in his frustration. He feels angry at her, at himself, and at everybody else. Exams are coming up, and deadlines are shadowing them. Stress turns in on every corner, and all Bogum could do is try not to take it out on the girl he likes. It takes everything in him not to shake his fist, and punch the air, as to not frighten her. (But he is afraid that she might have just set him off when she came to him with the unfortunate news.)

Bogum braces one hand against his hip, and he runs the other again through his hair, mussing it up even more. He clenches his teeth.

This is nothing. It’s just a necklace, jewelry. Bogum tries to tell himself. He massages the bride of his nose, and turns away from Joohyun, trying to calm himself down.

He tries not to think of the amount of effort he went through just for her a week ago. Planning the Valentine’s Day event (aside from bracing himself with the onslaught of activities and responsibilities handed on to him as a student), from meticulously calling on a restaurant seat reservation, to looking far and low for the perfect gift for her.

“You should introduce her to us sometime,” his mother had teased, when he kissed her goodbye, in the middle of making their weekly Sunday after-church supper (which for once, he could not partake in).

Yet he feared that all those were for naught when the time came, when he met up with Joohyun. She seemed anxious and fidgety at that time, and when he gave it to her—a silver necklace, with an equally silver heart in the middle, lined with rhinestones on the side—it did not garner the reaction he expected; a squeal or a gasp of joy perhaps, but certainly not a tight-lipped smile, with a guilt laden: But I didn’t get you anything.

The date ended earlier than expected, when they took a walk, and she still would not tell him what was bothering her, despite his prodding. Her eyes were on the ground, the necklace hung beautifully around her pale neck (as he knew it would, her existence is beauty itself), and she was biting her lip. He tried not stare as she chewed on it in anxiety.

It ended in a bookstore, neither of them a fanatic of bindings or pages, but Joohyun had insisted they go in, after passing by a glass display of a wooden art set, complete with acrylic paints, pencils, and the like. Eagerly, she entered the store and inquired the ratty clerk about it. (Bogum had eyed him apprehensively, he didn’t like the way his eyes shifted maliciously over Joohyun) And after much haggling and pleading, they went out a few minutes later with paper-wrapped rectangle covering Joohyun’s torso.

“I’m sorry.” Joohyun repeats.

Bogum snaps out of his stupor. She is standing nearer to him, a gentle hand on his arm. He looks at her and her solemn expression.

“I shouldn’t have lost it. I should have payed better attention to my things.” Joohyun explains, and she even has the decency to bend down slightly with remorse. Bogum clenches with guilt.

No. No. It’s just a necklace.

Don’t be sad. Don’t.

He wants to comfort her, and hug her, and hold her hand, and tell her it will be alright. But this fight is something he started, and this—the slight odd feeling of rejection he should have ignored, but can’t—has to be answered to. He is tired of being the gallant one, the good one, the perfect gentleman, and for once, just once, he wants to feel special too.

Joohyun goes on about probably losing it during their gym class. Changing in the locker rooms, or running through the oval. She tells him she’ll try to look for it once again, and all Bogum can do is stare at her.

 An odd feeling settles over him. Not anger, no.

Joohyun stops talking, and they hear noise drifting closer and closer to the room. The familiar chatter of members and their banter.

“What is it?” she asks worriedly. Brows creasing, eyes searching his for an answer.

The door opens, and in comes two hoobaes chatting amiably, they bow when they see the two, but Bogum is already turning away from Joohyun.

Being with Joohyun, he contemplates as he writes down their objective for today’s meeting, is strange. Half his mind is concentrated on the task at hand, copying down letters on the blackboard, and the other half is aware of her moving to sit on a desk chair, and sighing.

Oddly, it feels normal, akin to being with friends. Natural, despite the occasions of awkwardness that comes with being newly acquainted in a different light. It is strange in the way that dating isn’t what he always made it out to be.

No sparks come, or bursts of absolute joy.

But Bogum enjoys it nonetheless.

Being with her is something he has always wanted, and he would gladly take anything she would give him. It seems pathetic, he knows, but who could blame him when he has been in love with her for so long?

But he does not mind.

As long as he gets to be with Joohyun, he’d go through anything.

He stares at the stark-white lines against the board’s darkness, and he tries to remember the stem of it all. Joohyun coming to him, and admitting after days of inquiry of why she wasn’t wearing necklace, that she lost it was merely the trigger.

The curls of memory wrap him in its throes, and for certain, it is of the Valentine’s Day evening, days, a week or so, back.

And then he realizes it.

Jealousy.

He wants to laugh, and say that yes, he felt jealous over a box of colors and papers.

“It’s for Seulgi,” Joohyun had told him, smiling and her eyes crinkling, the way it gets when she feels particularly happy. He was tempted to smile back. He had offered to carry it for her on their way out of the building, but Joohyun held on to it like it was her precious newborn.

“I wasn’t able to be with her today, but I—I, Bogum-ah, this is a good birthday gift right?” Joohyun had asked worriedly. Immediately, Bogum assured her that he was sure she’d love it, and Joohyun beamed happily.

They took a taxi. Joohyun had forgotten her bus card, and she had wiped herself temporarily dry with her newfound purchase, so Bogum insisted he’d take her home.

Bogum blinks and he remembers the way Joohyun kept on opening the wrapper, peeking in, as if checking to make sure everything is in order (as if their walk had somehow jostled it out of place). It was dark in the vehicle, but Bogum could still make out Joohyun’s lips. She was biting them again, not out of anxiety this time, but of suppressed happiness.

She smiled, and her hands caressed the smooth wooden surface, inching past the wrinkled brown paper.

Bogum wants to say yes, Eureka! This is it! Jealousy, and its emerald face has reared up and come between us.

And so he convinces himself. An unreasonable feeling, but all he wants is Joohyun’s attention. He breathes a sigh of relief, and he nearly smiles. That’s it. He continues writing on the board with renewed vigor, and forces himself not to dwell too much on it.

He’ll apologize to Joohyun later and tell her it’ll be alright, everything will be alright. It isn’t important. Damn the necklace. Damn it all.

For a moment there, Bogum could have sworn he felt the unpleasant taste of acute rejection in his mouth.

(Bogum passes by Seulgi in the halls, and that feeling rises up in his throat. He ignores it.)

He tries not to think of what he felt on that night, or how Joohyun looked happiest when she talked about Seulgi, or how, for some odd and inexplicable reason, it feels like he is missing a vital piece of a puzzle, leaving him confused and in the dark.

 He’ll apologize. Everything will be alright.

--

He offers to check the school’s track and the fields alone. Anything to avoid her. He figures that some space is needed between them, and Joohyun does nothing.

Her indifference kind of hurts, but Bogum ignores it.

A spring breeze drifts through the twilight in a comforting wave, allowing calm and peace to wash over Bogum when he steps out of the building. He breathes a sigh of relief

Closing his eyes, he allows himself to revel in the rare moment of tranquility. Away from responsibility, expectations that are set and lifted, and the constant and heavy feeling of stress that awaits him—students in general—daily. Sometimes he wonders if this thing with Joohyun is all just one big mistake waiting to happen.

They’re too young, and he knows he should set his priorities straight on his studies.

 But he can never lie to himself, and he is certain of what he feels for Joohyun.

He wants to be with her.

Bogum sighs, and ultimately decides he’ll do whatever he can to fix this mess. It’s all because I overreacted. It’s my fault.

And with that resolve, he opens his eyes once again, and switches on the flashlight on hand, walking brusquely with the thought of finishing what he came here to do in mind. He sweeps it back and forth, what with the remaining daylight left.

It is quiet and all he can hear is his footsteps on the hard-packed soil, kicking up stones on the gravel, and the occasional noise of traffic from the road beyond. The school is dead silent, but he has learned long before that there is nothing to be afraid of.

Nothing but your thoughts.

A dark shape appears in the distance, and Bogum passes in his walk. It appears to be a person; hunched and hobbling over the oval, and for a second Bogum thinks, with an alarmed jolt, that it must be an intruder on the school grounds. He watches him for a while, bent and all, as if looking for something over the white paint lines that make up the racing tracks.

“Hey!”

He shouts, and he points his light forward. Alas, he was too far, and it did nothing to show the identity of the other. The stranger stops, and slowly, straightens up. Bogum jogs forward, muscles tensed in apprehension, and he shines his light on him.

Her.

“Yah, you—Seulgi?”

Bogum blinks in surprise, mouth agape. And Seulgi squints her eyes at him, face turned ghastly pale at the light. He only remembers to turn it away from her when she starts waving her hands forward, in a motion of discomfort. He opts to shine it on the ground beside her.

“The school’s closing. What are you doing here?” He asks.

Seulgi blinks slowly, as if deciding what to say. Bogum notices she is wearing her tracksuit, her jacket bunched and tied around her waist, and a stained white shirt is what she wears.

“I—I was…” Seulgi trails off, eyes losing her focus on him, and to the ground. Her hair is a mess, strands flying all about in the loose bun she put it up in. “… trying to put in some extra practice…”

Seulgi mutters, eyeing him surreptitiously, to see if he falls for her blatant lie. Bogum doesn’t.

Seulgi sighs at the silence, and Bogum crosses his arms, frowning in a rather now what? manner.

“I’m looking for something,” Seulgi finally admits, shaking her head slightly. In response, Bogum shines his light in a circle around her, as if to assist. Seulgi chuckles softly at that. “I already looked there, Bogum-ssi.”

“Oh.” Bogum stops, foot pawing restlessly on the ground. “Well. I think you should go home now Seulgi-ssi. It’s dark already.” He doesn’t have to mention the curfew time, and Seulgi just nods in understanding.

“You’re right.” She murmurs, a tad bit dejectedly. It makes Bogum feel kind of bad, for no inexplicable reason.

“I’m sure you’ll find it tomorrow.” Bogum says in encouragement when they start their walk back to the building. The sky is darkening to a rich shade of dark navy. He is beside her when she nods slowly.

They near the entrance where he came from when he piped up again. “What were you looking for anyway?” He makes a mental note to inform the broadcasting committee about this, hopefully to be added to their Lost and Found segment.

Feet touch concrete steps when Seulgi finally responds.

“Just something shiny.”

--

He walks to his classroom, students few and far, enjoying the early morning.

Rounding the hall to where it is, Bogum is surprised when he sees Seulgi—the last person he saw yesterday, and now the first person he meets today—barreling towards him. A delighted smile is set on her face, and for once, Bogum forgets to reprimand her for the error of running in the halls.

He jumps to the side, but she skids to a halt beside him.

“Good morning, sunbaenim!” Her demeanor, so different from yesterday evening’s somber one, baffles him. But her smile is contagious and so he greets back.

Seulgi promptly runs away, saying something about going to her classroom, and it isn’t until she takes the flight of stairs that leads downwards when Bogum remembers to shout “No running in the halls!”

He is not sure if she heard.

He walks into the room, greeting Seokjin and Seohyun who are engaged in deep gossipy conversation with a few others. Joohyun isn’t here yet, usually arriving a few minutes before the bell, so Bogum doesn’t know what to expect when he looks to where her desk is.

The morning sun shines through the windows, hitting a few seats in front. Bogum smiles inwardly, setting his bag down, when he remembers the absolute look of annoyance Joohyun would get whenever she gets in and finds her seat to be warmer than expected. It is adorable. And a constant daily.

But now, thinking about her makes him feel guilty.

Her seat is empty, and so are the others in front. Yet something catches his eye as the sun hits her desk. A ray of light bounces off from it, and reflects on the nearest wall.

Bogum takes a step closer, and another, and he is walking to her chair.

Just something shiny. Seulgi’s words bounce in his head, repeatedly. As if there was something withing him trying to send out an important message.

He bends down and gingerly grasps the silver chain, letting the pendant rest on his palm. It feels warm, and the noise of the room is reduced to a vague buzz at the back of his head. It shines, and for a millisecond, he is blinded.

Joohyun’s necklace.

He searches his mind, his brain, his being, trying to determine the strange feeling in his gut.

Bogum does not understand why, but in that very moment, he is certain of one thing.

The very necklace he holds is a vital piece—an important detail, to the puzzlement that is Bae Joohyun.

---

Author's note(9): They say people are smart in different ways. As in this story, Bogum who is academically-smart and seemingly perfect in any way, lacks the capability to understand Joohyun completely. He pictures her as the perfect girl--the perfect person, rather. In this chapter, he is beginning to understand that no amount of going through the correct books, the correct actions, can change how a person feels. You can't force it to just happen. Also ... suspicious of Seulgi, eh?....