𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 /GXG/

🔸️Don't Worry About Me

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AKARI TOKIZAKI
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We arrived at the Christian School very early. My parents are very punctual.

Pessimistic or cautious.

I walked around saying goodbye to the place and made sure I hadn't forgotten anything there. I walked around the courtyard, went to the outdoor basketball court, and went inside, stopping on the top floor of the building. I put in the key and opened the rooftop door.

I looked around and saw that the graffiti badly painted on the wall had been erased with white paint.
A small room with a tinted glass window on the right has a braided door.

I stood there with my arms resting on the metal fence rooftop for a while and looked at the city. The distant buildings were whitened by the drizzle.

My hands were frozen. Frozen lips.

I stayed long enough for time to pass, and from above, I could watch the cars arriving. Parents and daughters in uniform. Today is the last time I use it on my body. I will keep it as a souvenir.

I would like to go back a few months and postpone this day. I thought about my favorite spring days and, who knows, even the beginning of summer.

When I saw the time was coming, I left the key tied to my necklace and hid it inside my shirt. Then, I fixed my red tie and walked to the seminar room where everything was prepared for the high school graduation ceremony.

The front seats are occupied by the 2014 graduating class.

I crane my neck and look for a place to sit. I choose the first seat in the second row and head towards it, taking my seat and planning my route for when they call my name.

Principal Song Jin-young begins with a welcome talk while parents and families meet in the back.

Looking at the stage: the small side staircase with 4 steps, on the other side an access ramp, the huge blue curtain in the background ended up covering the crucifix, on the left side the flags of South Korea and Japan on the flagpoles. The table, almost 3 meters long, was then centered, with a tablecloth also covering it to the floor.

Da-hye sits in front of me, and her new inseparable friend, Sana, upon crossing her dark gaze with me, heads to the opposite side, sitting in the front row. I continue to look at her with a blind look of anger, a withering anger.

''Do you see the projector on, unnie?'' mutters Da-hye, turning around. ''They will show a photo of each of us.''

''Huh?'' I lift my face, waking up from one nightmare to enter another.

I don't like showing my photos to anyone, much less all these people. So I believe I will die of shame if that photo from when I was 17 appears, and I look like Hanako-San's ghost.

The master of ceremonies, dressed all in black, starts, takes his place, adjusting the microphone on the stand, and, oh my, I just want this to be over.

''The academic and administrative community of the International Christian School - Seoul -, through the Rectory and faculty, deeply regrets the loss of student Park Ji-hye. Ji-hye, 18, was about to turn high school...''

I grimace in pain as soon as I see the photo of her in her uniform and her beautiful smile. There she was 15 years old, her cheeks were a little rounder and her eyes were brighter.

While I keep hearing him, my chest is full of rapid, uncomfortable pounding. My mouth goes dry, and my hands shake. It's like the body is slowly falling apart, and soon I will fall to the ground because nothing can be done to bring her back to life.