The school courtyard was alive with the chatter of students, but Ryan sat alone on a wooden bench, an open lunch box resting on his lap. His kimbap gleamed in the sunlight, neatly rolled and inviting, paired with the creamy banana shake beside him. Despite the bustling atmosphere, an invisible barrier seemed to surround him. Students avoided him, their whispers reaching his ears like faint echoes in the wind. He didn't care. Their avoidance was nothing new.
Instead, Ryan's eyes wandered to the tree standing a few feet away. Its branches swayed gently in the breeze, the wind scattering its golden leaves. The sunlight danced through the spaces between the thinning branches, painting intricate patterns on the ground below. It was beautiful, he thought, almost ethereal. The leaves fell like confessions whispered into the wind, each one a piece of the tree's burdens, its feelings.
Ryan's gaze lingered, lost in thought. To others, the tree was at its most captivating in this moment of shedding. People admired its vulnerability, mistaking it for beauty. But he saw the truth—the tree was losing itself, becoming bare, and when its leaves were gone, it would no longer hold their admiration. Naked branches weren't beautiful; they were pitiful.
His lips tightened into a thin line. That's me, he thought bitterly. People admire what they think they see but never what's real. They see a monster because that's what they've chosen to believe. No matter what I do, they'll never see anything else.
The wind swept across his face, brushing his bangs into his eyes as he finished the last bite of his kimbap. Setting the empty box aside, he reached into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook and pencil. He flipped to a blank page, his movements methodical but tense. He stared at the tree once more before beginning to sketch.
With each stroke of the pencil, Ryan poured his emotions into the drawing. The lines were sharp, his hand trembling as he worked. Hurt, anger, and frustration bubbled within him, flowing out onto the page in jagged shapes and dark shadows. His breathing quickened, veins bulging in his hand as he pressed harder, the pencil screeching across the paper.
When the pencil snapped in his grip, Ryan blinked, snapping out of his trance. His chest rose and fell as he stared at the image before him, horrified. It wasn't the tree. Instead, he had drawn a monstrous figure cloaked in shadow. Horns twisted upward, merging with the dark sky, its face contorted in fury. Below it lay a figure, faceless and broken, as though crushed by the monster's presence.
Ryan's hands shook as he slammed the sketchbook shut. He closed his eyes, took a sip of his banana shake, and willed himself to calm down. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but it never got easier. He always started with an idea in mind, yet his hand betrayed him, creating something he wished he could unsee.
A light tap on his shoulder jolted him from his thoughts. His head snapped up, and his eyes met Jihoon's warm, curious gaze.
"Hey," Jihoon greeted casually, taking a seat beside him.
Ryan blinked, his expression awkward. "Oh... uh, hey. How was your day?"
"Not bad," Jihoon replied, stretching his arms. "You?"
"Good," Ryan mumbled, though his voice lacked conviction.
Jihoon's eyes wandered to the sketchbook resting on Ryan's lap. "What were you drawing?" he asked, leaning in.
Ryan's hand shot out, snatching the book and hugging it to his chest. "Nothing!" he said quickly, his voice rising an octave.
Jihoon raised an eyebrow, amused. "What, is it something inappropriate?" he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"No! It's not like that!" Ryan's face flushed, and he shook his head vigorously.
Seeing Ryan flustered, Jihoon chuckled and raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll stop."
The two fell into a comfortable silence, the din of the courtyard fading into the background. For a moment, neither seemed to care about the stares and whispers from others.
After a while, Jihoon broke the silence. "Can I ask you something?"
Ryan glanced at him warily. "What is it?"
"Why don't you ever say anything?" Jihoon's tone was serious now, his expression thoughtful.
Ryan frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
Jihoon clarified, "When they talk about you… like that. When they call you a monster. Why don't you defend yourself?"
The question caught Ryan off guard. He stared at Jihoon, his throat tightening. After a long pause, he looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"Do you really think it would change anything?" Ryan's voice was low, almost bitter. He let out a dark chuckle, shaking his head. "In their eyes, I was a monster from the moment I was born. I didn't even get the chance to defend myself then, so why should I now?"
Jihoon watched him intently but said nothing, sensing the weight behind Ryan's words.
"They see what they want to see," Ryan continued, his tone softer now, tinged with exhaustion. "And believe what they want to believe. It's the nature of this world."
Jihoon didn't respond right away. Instead, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on Ryan's shoulder. "Maybe not everyone sees it that way, Maybe there's someone out there who could actually accept you. Who knows the truth." he said quietly.
Ryan turned to look at him, surprised by the ridiculous statement. "Really…." He mocked shaking his head, chuckling darkly. For a moment, there was a hint of darkness in his eyes which didn't get unnoticed by Jihoon. He flinched feeling a emotion he never thought he would feel in his life.... Fear. Jihoon gulped anxiously but he hide it behind a smile. Ryan started directly in his eyes before sighing heavily. The darkness which literally made Jihoon flinched was not there in his eyes. Rather than there was sadness.
Jihoon didn't wanted to admit it but there was a slight ache in his heart when he saw it. "Yeah….. The person is sitting right in front of you." Jihoon offered him a small, reassuring smile, and for a fleeting moment, Ryan stared in his eyes before giving a genuine smile. "Yeah… You are here."
Ryan allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, Jihoon was right.
To be continued...