ephemera 一 baek dohwa.

i

He’s staring out of the bus window when there’s a sudden commotion. A student has taken one of the disabled seats and is refusing it to an elderly woman. Dohwa sighs, disgruntled at his peace being disturbed. He wonders how long it’ll take one of these clichéd situations to settle itself.

‘Here, Auntie, you can sit here.’ A girl sitting in the row behind the student gets up, guiding the older woman to the seat before she can protest. Even though she doesn’t even get a thank you, the girl still smiles before looking up.

Dohwa realises she’s looking for a place to sit, but recognising her uniform as his own, turns his head to face the glass and tugs his cap further down over his face.

It's hopeless. He hears her trying to get his attention, and he takes his bag from the spare seat beside him onto his lap without glancing at her once.

He hears a gentle thank you, but pretends he didn't, face averted completely.

It's the worst thing that could have happened 一 someone from his high school taking the same route as him, someone who would recognise him, and realise that this was not the right bus from Riverview Palace, let alone a bus coming from the right direction.

Dohwa prepares to be questioned, and thinks with a sinking feeling in his heart to the rumours that will be going around school tomorrow.

The bus lurches around a bend, and the girl accidentally jams her elbow into his arm as she draws out a book from her rucksack.

‘Sorry.’

He’s half-expecting her to try to look at him, to stare, to say more or to strike up conversation perhaps, but instead all she does is open her book. She doesn't even look at him.

Perhaps, he thinks, he's safe. Perhaps there'll be no rumours.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees that the book is written in English. The words are condensed on the page. Dohwa guesses that she’s good at academics. She's also using a crumpled convenience store receipt as a bookmark.

He tears his gaze away and goes back to listening to music.