The sun bathed the city in a soft golden glow as I stepped through the towering gates of Jirisan High. I glanced down at the name tag stitched neatly on my uniform—Lee Eun-ha.
As I walked, I took in the view. The campus stretched out before me like something out of a glossy brochure—modern yet inviting, with clean architecture, brick-paved walkways, and clusters of students scattered like petals caught in the spring breeze.
I paused to take it all in.
Laughter spilled across the courtyard. Some students posed for selfies, others clutched iced drinks and ran toward their friends. The energy buzzed with familiarity.
I clutched the strap of my backpack tighter as I walked up the main path. It curved around a wide courtyard, where a group of seniors played basketball on the open court. To the right stood the main school building—tall and modern, its glass-paneled exterior framed by cherry blossom trees just beginning to bloom. I remembered reading in the school pamphlet that Jirisan High had everything: a massive gymnasium with indoor courts, a state-of-the-art library, a sleek auditorium, spacious cafeterias, and several quiet gardens scattered around campus where students could hang out. There was even a small marathon track looping just beyond the gym.
It was all so… perfect.
But as I walked, that familiar tug of doubt crept in. I hadn't attended orientation. I told myself it was because of personal reasons, but really, I was just scared. Starting over wasn't new to me—but the hope that came with it? That was the terrifying part.
*Don't mess this up,* I told myself.
Each year at Jirisan had over 280 students, divided into eight sections—about thirty per class. Mine was **Section-F**. And that's where I met her.
Park Min-ah.
She had dark curly hair that framed her face in a way that looked both effortlessly elegant and perfectly wild. She was around my height, with flawless skin and this warm, approachable energy. She was scribbling furiously in her notebook when I slipped into the seat beside her.
"Hi," I offered with a soft smile.
She looked up and immediately grinned. "Hey! I'm Min-ah. Hold on—let me clear my chaos."
She swept aside a pile of pens and what looked like a half-eaten granola bar.
"It's okay," Ichuckled. "First day nerves?"
"More like first day over-preparation. I brought half my room in case of pop quizzes or alien attacks."
"I only brought three pens and unreasonable fear."
We laughed together—and just like that, something inside me relaxed.
"Are you nervous too?" she asked.
"Yeah. A lot. I didn't come for orientation, so I feel like I'm playing catch-up already."
"You're fine. Most of it was awkward icebreakers anyway," she waved off. "But I did meet a few cool people."
After class, we explored the school grounds together. Min-ah led the way like a tour guide, and I followed, soaking it all in—the bustling cafeteria, the club board, the music room echoing with piano notes.
On our way out to the yard, she spotted a girl sitting alone on a bench, sketching.
"That's Soo-hee!" Min-ah waved. "Met her during orientation."
Soo-hee looked up, a little startled. She was a bit taller, with short hair and a soft expression. "Hi, Min-ah… and?"
"This is Eun-ha. We're thinking of forming a chaotic trio."
Soo-hee smiled gently. "Nice to meet you."
It took us about a week to explore the entire campus. We tried almost every food stall in the cafeteria—kimchi fried rice, sweet corn toast, spicy rice cakes. We started eating lunch together, studying after class, and eventually texting at night.
Late-night study sessions turned into inside jokes. Cafeteria runs turned into mall trips. We laughed over bad movies and shared stories over boba. I even watched as Min-ah failed hilariously at baking brownies in the common room microwave.
" I swear I followed the recipe," she groaned, holding up a burnt square.
"you followed chaos," Soo-hee deadpanned.
We got closer with each passing day.
Then came the announcement.
"Club sign-ups start tomorrow!" a teacher reminded us. "Choose something that interests you. You can always switch next semester."
The three of us sat under a tree at lunch, debating.
"I'm stuck," I admitted. "I like too many things."
"Then just try one for now," Min-ah said, biting into a melon bun. "You can always switch. I'm going with the cheerleading Club, obviously."
"art club for me," Soo-hee added. "I joined during orientation."
"I guess…" Ilooked at the list. "Field and track? I could stay in shape… maybe outrun my problems."
Min-ah grinned. "Love that for you. Emotional damage, but make it cardio."
So, I signed up for the Field and Track Club. It wasn't exactly thrilling at first—I wasn't the fastest or the most graceful—but there was something comforting about the rhythm of it all. The other members—Hye-sun, Ye-jin, Min-jae and the others—were all friendly, and there was always this buzz of energy at the track. We trained hard, laughed between laps, and sometimes just lay in the grass afterward, staring at the sky like we had all the time in the world.
Four months passed. It was time for our first semester exams.
We crammed in the library until closing hours, swapped notes during lunch, and pulled off last-minute review sessions in the hallway just before tests. It wasn't easy—but somehow, we made it through.
Some papers felt like battles we won. Others? Total disasters. Still, when the results came out, they weren't as bad as I feared.
I ranked 26th out of 280 students—the best among the three of us. Min-ah wasn't far behind at 34th, and Soo-hee landed at a respectable 51st.
"Twenty-sixth?!" Min-ah gaped when she saw my name on the list. "Okay, overachiever. I see you."
I laughed. "You're right behind me. Don't act like you're not secretly competitive."
She grinned. "I was aiming for top thirty. You just had to outshine me."
Soo-hee peeked over Min-ah's shoulder. "I'm just happy I didn't fail math. Fifty-first is a win in my book."
We teased each other over juice boxes and sweet buns from the school store, basking in the relief of being done—for now. Beneath the jokes, though, we were proud.
Proud that we'd survived it together.
At Jirisan, class sections changed every semester, just to "encourage bonding," the teachers said. When I saw the new list, my heart did a little jump. Min-ah, Soo-hee, and I were still together—this time in class 1-3. A few new names filled the roll sheet, but the important part? My people were still beside me.
One afternoon, we were walking through the hallway when we noticed a crowd gathering near the lockers.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Someone's back," a girl whispered. "He got suspended last week."
"Who?"
"Taewoo," another said.
The name rippled through the group like an urban legend. I followed the gaze and spotted him—a tall guy in a loose hoodie, hair a tousled mess, hands in his pockets, face unreadable.
"That's him?" I whispered.
"Apparently, he beat someone up," Soo-hee muttered. "Gosh, that's scary."
"Let's go," I said quickly, pulling them away.
Not everyone at Jirisan was sunshine and soft curls. There were kids like us—and there were troublemakers. And Taewoo? He looked like the type who brought storms.
Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd see him again.
For now, though, I was where I wanted to be.
And I was finally starting to feel like I belonged.