The stone staircase stretched upward without end, rising before him like a wall of ancient rock that refused to be conquered. The first hundred steps passed more easily than he had expected. The stone beneath his feet shifted in a steady cadence, and soon his body moved in quiet harmony with that rhythm.
The air was cold, sharp as it entered his lungs, yet a deep, familiar heat had already begun to glow inside him, spreading outward until it filled his entire body. His circulation quickened; the pulse at his temples throbbed powerfully, as though every cell within him had come alive. With each step, his muscles drew tight and firm, and for a brief stretch of time, he felt almost light, almost unburdened by gravity.
Yet the higher he climbed, the more that lightness slipped away. His legs grew heavy, as though filled with lead, and every step began to demand a painful measure of strength. His lungs strained, starved for air, his breathing faltering, breaking unevenly in his chest. At last, he spent the remnants of his strength and came to a halt, bending forward with his hands braced against his knees, dragging in a deep, ragged breath. Sweat trailed down his skin. When he forced his head up to look, the summit of the stairs lay impossibly far away.
Unable to gather the strength for even one more step, he turned back at last, descending slowly on trembling legs.
When he reached home, breakfast had already been laid out. The room was filled only with the soft clink of cups and spoons, a quiet stillness resting gently over everything.
As she walked down the long school corridor, a strange sensation crept over Nau Rin—the unmistakable feeling that someone was following her. Without turning around, she slipped straight through her classroom door and paused just behind it, breathing quietly.
Then, as if on impulse, she leaned out and looked down the hall. Just beyond the corner, the faint outline of someone's back flickered into view—then vanished.
Her odd behavior didn't go unnoticed. Other students watched her with curious eyes, as though they were observing a scene from a film. Nau Rin, however, didn't care in the slightest. At worst, it would only add one more rumor to the many already circulating—people would go on calling her "weird" or "sick" as they always did.
What unsettled her far more was the unnatural quiet that hung over the school. Between the strips of light and shadow, not a single whisper about them drifted through the air, and even their shadows were nowhere to be seen.
Lost in thought, she made her way to the restroom. Next period was P.E. She stepped into an empty stall, locked the door, removed her jacket and white shirt, folded them neatly, and placed them in her cloth bag. Beneath the thin white T-shirt she wore, faint scars branched across her skin like pale pink tree limbs, barely visible through the fabric.
She dressed quickly and headed toward the gym —when that presence began trailing her again.
She stopped. Turned.
"Come out," she said, her voice calm but clear, echoing down the corridor.
From behind the corner, a girl slowly emerged. With her long hair reaching her shoulders and bangs hiding her face, she was barely recognizable—only her slightly trembling hands gave her away.
"Why are you following me?" Nau Rin asked.
The girl flinched, visibly startled. After hesitating, she pulled out a small box from behind her back.
Nau Rin made no move to take it.
"What is it?" she asked, her tone distant.
The girl held the box out with both hands.
"I… made it for you," she said, then bowed deeply. "Thank you!"
Nau Rin watched her bow, hands still in her pockets.
"Doing anything for you"
The girl raised her head.
"But… in the art room…"
Nau Rin cut in, calm and even.
"What about it?"
Surprise crossed the girl's face, as if she were suddenly unsure whether this was the person she had been looking for.
"Even so… could you please accept it? I really put my heart into making it," she said with a small, hopeful smile.
Just then, the school bell rang, announcing the start of class. The moment Nau Rin reached out to touch the box, the girl let go, bowed once more, and hurried away.
As Nau Rin turned toward the gym, the girl's voice called out from behind her,
"Kim Mina transferred to another school!"
Then her footsteps faded.
The question that had weighed on Nau Rin for days quietly unraveled. A subtle relief settled over her as she walked on, her pace slow, almost light.
Another morning had begun.
Nau Rin carefully shifted her bandaged shoulder, raising her arm bit by bit. A slight lift… no pain. A bit higher—nearly fifty degrees now—still nothing.
Maybe it's healed? The hopeful thought flickered through her mind. She raised her arm level with her shoulder—
A sharp stab of pain shot through her.
"Ah—ah… it hurts… it hurts…" she gasped, curling in on herself as she collapsed back onto the bed.
Even though she still couldn't move her arm properly, she continued her morning routine without fail—running, climbing the stairs, and training her legs.
And today was no exception. She stood before the staircase and began her ascent once more. No railing. Nothing to lean on. The higher she went, the more her thighs burned, her knees trembling with every step.
Every movement was heavy, but she did not stop. Step after step, she pressed on—until at last, she reached the top.
Her breathing was ragged, and lifting her head felt like the final trial. Yet, she forced herself to look.
The view was breathtaking.
"Ah!" The sound escaped her, and a laugh slipped out before she knew it. She sat at the edge of the steps, her legs still trembling, her body worn thin—yet her heart felt full. For a while, she simply stayed there, absorbed in the beauty of the world spread out before her.
A smile lingered on her face. Sunlight spilled across her vision, dazzling and warm. She raised her hand to shield her eyes, and the light slipped through her fingers, leaving a gentle warmth behind.
Suddenly, someone cleared their throat behind her.
"You again? You'll wear these stairs out completely."
Nau Rin turned. A monk stood there.
She lifted one foot slightly, showing him the sole of her sneaker.
"My shoes aren't worn out," she replied.
The monk said nothing and began to walk away. Nau Rin called after him politely,
"Is there any drinking water?"
Without even turning his head, the monk gestured toward the right side of the temple.
"There's a spring over there. Go drink it yourself."
When she reached the place he had indicated, she found a stone basin brimming with impossibly clear water. It welled up endlessly from below, spilling over the rim and trickling down the rocks with a soft, steady murmur. A wooden ladle hung on the wall beside it.
Nau Rin took out her bottle to fill it, but the monk reappeared as if from nowhere.
"You may drink. You may not take any with you," he said.
"You may drink. You may not take any with you," he said firmly.
She followed his instruction, picking up the ladle—but did not drink right away. Instead, she pulled out a small towel, carefully wiped the rim, then rinsed it several times with water.
Watching her, the monk asked,
"Do you think you'll catch something if you don't wipe it like that?"
Nau Rin shrugged.
"No… but I suppose it depends on the person who used it before me."
At that, the monk rolled his eyes ever so slightly.
Before heading back down, Nau Rin turned toward him again. He was feeding birds, his gaze following their small movements, his hands never pausing.
"I'm leaving," she said.
He did not respond, as if he hadn't heard.
She raised an eyebrow and spoke louder this time.
"I'm leaving."
Only then did the monk glance at her.
"Even if you tell me, I'm not going to carry you down."
Nau Rin looked at him, uncertainty in her voice.
"Are monks usually like this?"
The monk met her eyes calmly.
"A monk is still a person," he said quietly.
Nau Rin narrowed her eyes slightly,
"Right... if you say so."
And with that, she turned and began her descent.
She began spending her days either in her room or at the park.
In the dim light of her room, her shadow looked still, almost lifeless against the wall. In truth, her body never stopped working. With her hands tucked into the pockets of her shirt, she balanced on the balls of her feet, her heels never touching the ground, holding the position for long stretches of time. Her ankles trembled, her muscles began to burn, yet she refused to lower herself. Her body swayed faintly; each time her balance faltered, she corrected it, reset herself, focused again.
Her feet never rested.
Forward. Back. Side to side.
Again. Again. And again.
The floor sometimes felt as though it were slipping beneath her, yet she forced herself to stay grounded. Her tendons pulled tight, her shins stiffened until she nearly collapsed—but once the pain dulled, she rose again. Her breathing remained deep and silent, though it grew heavier, her chest expanding as if straining from within.
The room held no sound except the faint slide of her white socks across the floor.
Tap… tap…
The rope struck the concrete in a steady rhythm. Her upper body stayed still, only her wrists turning in small circles, yet the tendons stood out along her arms, veins faintly raised. As her body bounced, her knees absorbed the weight, her ankles endured the shock, and each time the balls of her feet brushed the ground, they pushed the impact back. One rhythm. One breath.
Days passed like this.
After quite some time, Nau Rin finally tested her first quick, light strikes on the heavy bag. The stiffness in her body had faded completely; the bruising along her shoulder had softened into a faint yellow trace. The swelling had gone down, the lingering ache nearly gone.
Even so, she avoided heavy blows, sticking only to light strikes. One week before the match, she was fully healed—her arm moving freely, able to throw any punch she wanted. In the final three days, she only warmed up lightly, letting her body settle, allowing herself to rest.
On the day of the competition, Nau Rin finished putting on her shoes by the door.
"I'm heading out!" she called out loudly before stepping outside.
As she walked down the road, her bag felt strangely heavier than usual. She stopped and opened it.
Inside were a bottle of warm water, a banana, bread with honey, and a small portion of fruit.
A bright smile spread across her face.
"Mom… this is way too much…" she murmured.