Suji was lax against the booth, her legs resting on the opposite chair and her elbows on the table, which cradled her face in a bored expression. Time just couldn’t go faster for them. “Are you done yet?”

Her friend plucked his earbuds out, and flipped his laptop to show her a half-completed episode of Detective Conan. “I’m done, why,” he said in mock-innocence, “did you need to borrow it?”

A restless, half snarl released under her breath, as she roughly switched the laptop to her side. Later within the day (they couldn’t really avoid each other considering they were lab partners for chemistry) between oxidizers and astringents they came to a mutual agreement, both were at fault. And Sungjong a little more for acting irrationally overprotective. He watched as Suji quickly scrawled some notes from the laptop screen, staring intently at the pages.

“Suji,”

“What.” she said without looking up from her work.

“Where’s your laptop?”

“It’s at home.”

“Well then why don’t you bring it so we don’t have to share?”

She looked up, tapping her pencil rapidly against the wooden table. in her lower lip she mumbled, “It was at home, and then it got stolen.”

“By whom?” he leaned his head in, in order not to concern the other students within the hall.

Suji rapped him on the head with the eraser-end of her pencil, “If I knew who, I would’ve found the person already.” she hissed in defense. “Besides, even if I report it what is the police going to do? It’s a victim-blame society, they’d just tell me off for not being more careful and keeping it in a safer place.”

He shook his head, “Stuff like this only happens to you, is there a family curse you don’t know about?”

“Watch yourself, Sungjong.”

“Right, bad topic.” he sighed dramatically  at her childish friend’s nature. Even after so many years any mention of her family was both a foreign concept and a forbidden word to her vocabulary. For her age, she should be facing her problems head on, or at least finding solace in someone. “Shouldn’t you be off meeting that Myungsoo guy of yours?”

“Yeah, just after this problem.” her body was fixed still to the booth, as if she were frozen. Her eyes focused on the problem, as if some magical will would solve the problem for her. When that didn’t work, she sighed, tapering the book shut. “I hate balancing equations.” she whined, slamming the laptop shut as well.

Sungjong reached over to return his laptop to his messenger bag. “I swear, you complain even before you try solving the problem. Three seconds, Suji. You need to give chemistry a chance.” his eyes flickered upward, and he started zipping his bag a little faster. “Chaebol coming our way.” he said shortly.

“Chaebol?” she questioned. Sungjong nodded and looked away, taking a casual sip of his coffee. Her caramel eyes widened at the realization and she crouched under the booth, but she didn’t even know why she was trying to hide.

A hand rested on their table, and she held her breath. “Suji, I see you.” she looked up sheepishly at the handsome young man, who gave her a soft smile. She grumbled something about work and he chuckled, turning towards Sungjong. “Hi, my name’s Myungsoo. Kim Myungsoo.” he held out a hand.

“My name’s Sungjong. Lee Sungjong.” he imitated in a similar tone, although anyone could sense the mild hostility he gathered. A graceful hand swept up to meet Myungsoo’s in a surprisingly firm handshake. “So, are you going to steal Suji from me or not?”

“Uh, not if she’s busy studying.” Myungsoo replied in bewilderment, unsure if Sungjong was being serious or playful. He was beginning to lean towards the latter until Suji lifted up an arm between them.

“Don’t mind him.” she said curtly, turning him around by the shoulders, “he’s constipated, if you’re wondering why he’s acting so  stiff. We can leave now, I’m done.”

“Are you sure?” he risked a wary side glance towards Sungjong, who paid no mind as his fingers zipped rapidly through his cellphone, his face terse. But he didn’t even have time to ask again when he felt a jerky tug by the wrist which forced him out the study hall. Suji was leading him out the opposite exit of where his driver was parked. With a simple tug of his arm, she would tip over like a half-empty glass of milk.

“What?” Suji said.

Myungsoo jutted his lip out, which seemed like a cross between a pout and cross face. “Do you even know where you’re going? I parked on the other side.”

Suji seemed truly dissatisfied by that answer. “Drive? On such a beautiful day? You’re kidding.”

He blinked. “I always take the car.”

“It’s only a few blocks away, and you could use a little color.” she reached over to pinch the bare skin on his bicep, and gave a wan smile when he flinched, clearly hypersensitive by her touch. “Let’s go.”

“I need to call my driver.” he frowned, reaching for his phone.

She scoffed, “You have a driver even around campus? Truly privileged, Kim Myungsoo.”

Myungsoo felt his cheeks grow hot, and he walked ahead of her. Curse his sensitivity, as it seemed like Suji was filterless, and it would be something he’d have to deal with for awhile. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t think I wouldn’t have found out.” she answered offhandedly, pushing the doors open with both hands. It seemed unintentionally melodramatic when she swiveled on her heels to face him, her dark hair fanning across her shoulders. “Your father owns the company, and you’re going to work by his side in a few years.You’ve failed to mention that when I wanted to know what I was getting into. ”

“And how would you know that?” the young man asked, his tongue jutting out between his canine teeth, just in case he felt like saying something he’d regret.

“I have a good social network, I know my people.” she said smugly, raising her nose.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I highly doubt that.”

Suji felt like she was on fire, and clenched her fists together. “Excuse me?” she crossed her arms, the whole ‘boss and employee’ fiasco momentarily abandoned. “And how would you know my sociability? You’re just a face-valued rich boy. You’re taking advantage of me by not telling me anything.” under her breath, but obviously intended for Myungsoo’s viewing pleasure, she added, “Sungjong was right about you.”

“Sungjong?” Myungsoo pointed incredulously behind him. “That guy who treated me like dirt just five minutes ago? That’s where you think you know me? That’s the problem with you guys, too quick to judge by appearances.” he shook his head, gripping the ends of his backpack so hard his knuckles turned an ashen ivory.

The girl felt a foreign twinge in her stomach, regretting that she let her emotions get the best of her. She blames herself for letting their conversation escalate so quickly, and so wayward. But she kept her expression steely. “Well, you should’ve told me in the first place.”

Myungsoo chuckled bitterly. “So, so selfish.” They stopped at the intersection, right in the dividend between the street and the library.

Suji’s palms felt sweaty and her forehead was certainly warm. A cold, icy stare from her right forced her to comply, and she was suddenly spellbound under Myungsoo’s dark eyes.

“And to think, when I hired you, I defended you. I didn’t care what my hyung said about you, because I wanted you for the job. Did you ever wonder why I never told you straight away, maybe I just couldn’t. Maybe it was something more important to me, so important not even the company could help.” the stoplight turned a thankful, long awaited lime green. “Let’s go.”

Entranced under a spell written in guilt and slight horrification from her near-death glare experience, she followed him across the street and through the large building. She felt sour inside, as if she were rotten, expired milk that should be left in the trash to be wasted away. How dare he, how dare Kim Myungsoo make her feel this way! She may be selfish, but she certainly had a heart. (A black, probably shrunken heart, but a heart indeed). But no matter what way she could interpret it, circumstances led them to this, and as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t blame Myungsoo for reacting the way he did.

“The bronze room, please. We have an appointment.” he said to receptionist, smoothly placing his arm across the desk. The elderly man gave an appreciative side glance to the two, before retrieving two pairs of satin gloves. He wordlessly handed them to Myungsoo, and the duo followed the man into a long hallway.

When Suji finally found her voice she uttered, “The bronze room? That’s one of  the newspaper catacombs.” a room she could only dream about seeing, until now.

“Yes, we have access for an hour. It was the best I could do.” Myungsoo replied shortly.

“But how? Barely anyone can get into these rooms.”

“Because,” he spoke as if it were the most obvious thing, in order to mimic Suji’s haughtiness moments before. “I’m nothing more than a spoiled rich kid, and I get what I want.”

The receptionist coughed uncomfortably, and opened the door to the bronze room, which wasn’t even bronze, it was just a plain white door. Suji and Myungsoo bowed in thanks, and shuffled inside the small, closet-like space. They simultaneously inhaled the decrepit, paper dust and the after-antiseptic spray attempting to musk over the the files and files of paper. There were many old newspapers piled away, each individual page locked away in it’s own, airtight plastic. Off to the side there was a computer, and the other side held a podium of laminated front covers.

Suji looked to Myungsoo for guidance, only to see him smirking mischievously. “Punishment.”

“Punishment?” she asked. “But—”

“Forget whatever happened outside, you left it before you entered this room.” he waved his hands out to the now shut door, and repeated “Punishment.”

Suji was at a loss for words, sometimes he seemed a little out of sync with the rest of the world.

“I was going to tell you why I brought you here, but now I won’t. You pissed me off.” he said pointedly. “So, now you’re going to discover it yourself.” he dropped his bag on top of the small desk in the front of the room, and handed Suji a pair of gloves. He sat down on the hard metal chair. “Have fun.”

“That’s nearly impossible.” she deadpanned. “There could be over thirty years of history piled up here.”

“Ironically, it’s relevant to today.” he hinted, opening up a textbook of his own. “I’m going to study, go away.”

The younger one supposed she deserved this punishment of his, so she stopped herself from hitting him in the face and stomped away. Suji’s first intention was to do a mass-search on the computer, so she logged on and started scrolling to the recent articles. There were dozens of results, and she wordlessly narrowed many of them until she got to the ones with the most popular hits.  It was the first of September, what was relevant today?

Today was Hyerim of the Wonder Girls’ birthday. In addition, a new greenhouse blueprint was in effect for the spring season in  two parks in Myeongdong, if they could fit it in such a cramped district.

“Are you a Wonder Girls fanboy, or are interested in flowers, by any chance.” she asked monotonously, her voice bouncing duly off the metal bookcases. No reply. She shrugged, and scrolled further down.

There was a candle lighting ceremony in Cheongju. A fourteenth year ceremony. She felt like she was so close from the story, yet so far away. She got up and shuffled to the laminated headlines, delicately finding a date for early September 2000. Within the first week, there were nothing but headlines of a circus fire. Suji her lips in anticipation, she had a story. Unfortunately, she knew nothing of this circus fire off the top of her head, only a vague piece swept away in her modern history bank. She turned to September fourth.

We Honor Those Departed.

We are Faithful to Those Survived.

The departed list was the lengthiest, so long that it the survival list was overlapped to the second page, probably hidden away in another drawer. Names, names, with respectable titles if given. Names of the dead, of the Cheongju circus fire. But what was even worse, the names eventually stopped, and faded into numbers, bodies unidentifiable or anonymous.

“Myungsoo,” she breathed out, her thumb gliding softly over the numbers.

“Yeah,” he replied from the other side of the room. He sounded solemn, as if he were in a trance.

“What are you asking me to look for?”

He looked into the space above, as if he were talking to someone else. His face was completely devoid of emotion. This was real, raw honesty.

“A dead person.”