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the new student |woonghao

Once upon a time in the bustling city of Seongnam, there was a middle school named Jiseong Academic Institution. It was an ordinary school, except for the vibrant mix of students from diverse backgrounds, each with their own stories. Among them was Jiwoong, a typical thirteen-year-old boy with a thin frame, round glasses, and an overly enthusiastic approach to life. Jiwoong was known for his bright smile and carefree demeanor, but he also possessed a mischievous side. He loved to joke around and had a tendency to tease.

One chilly morning, as Jiwoong shuffled through the crowded hallways, he noticed a new boy standing by the lockers. Hao was his name. He had just transferred from a school in Beijing, looking slightly lost amidst the throng of students. With tousled black hair and sharp, intelligent eyes, he exuded an air of quiet confidence that piqued Jiwoong’s curiosity.

Initially, Jiwoong’s interest took the form of teasing, which often turned into bullying. He called Hao names, made fun of his accent, and even mocked his choice of clothing. Other students laughed, feeding Jiwoong’s ego as he played the part of the bully. Hao, however, took it all in stride. He rarely retorted, a small smile on his face, but the hurt was evident in his eyes.

Days turned into weeks, and while Jiwoong went home feeling victorious after each bullying session, part of him began to feel hollow. He couldn’t shake off the nagging thought that Hao was different. Beneath that calm exterior was a boy who, unlike others, did not yield to his teasing. Instead, he was polite, friendly when spoken to, and somehow managed to focus on his studies despite everything.

As seasons changed and autumn leaves fell, Jiwoong started to notice little things about Hao that intrigued him. How he’d quietly help classmates struggling with assignments, his penchant for sketching in his notebook, the way he focused undistracted on his work. Jiwoong watched as others gravitated toward Hao’s kindness and intelligence, and their camaraderie only intensified his loneliness.

One crisp afternoon, as Jiwoong sat by the schoolyard, ready to unleash another round of jests at Hao, he hesitated. There was something in Hao’s demeanor—a tiredness, perhaps? Or a depth of understanding that he had not seen before. In that brief moment, Jiwoong felt a pang of empathy, a fleeting sense of regret. Unsure of himself and frustrated by the inexplicable emotions brewing within him, Jiwoong turned away, leaving behind the mockery he had prepared.

From that moment forward, Jiwoong found himself drawn to Hao. He would catch glimpses of him during classes, finding comfort in the way Hao’s brow furrowed in concentration or his lips quirked up when he shared a soft joke with his new friends. Jiwoong began to sit closer to him during lunchtime, listening to Hao’s stories about life in Beijing, the rich culture, the delicious food, and the beautiful parks. Talking to him felt easy in a way Jiwoong had never experienced before.

Yet the bully in Jiwoong struggled against these new feelings. A constant battle raged within him. How could he have treated Hao so poorly? He was supposed to be the one who knew how to fit in and dominate at school, not the one who hid behind a facade of toughness while growing to care for someone he had bullied.

One rainy afternoon, as Jiwoong lingered outside the school before heading home, a sudden drenching downpour caught him by surprise. He took shelter under a nearby awning, and moments later, he saw Hao sprinting into the same spot, laughing softly to himself: "Guess I have the worst timing!"

Jiwoong, taken aback by the sound of that laughter, found himself automatically smiling. “You’re always so cheerful. Do you not get how awful this weather is?” he replied, his voice slightly harsher than intended.

“Maybe.” Hao shrugged, shaking off droplets from his hair. “But being upset won’t change the rain, right? Better to enjoy the moment.”

As they waited for the storm to pass, Jiwoong found himself captivated by Hao’s outlook on life. It was in that moment he realized how much he had misjudged him. Hao shared stories of rain in Beijing, how it reminded him of family and childhood, a stark contrast to Jiwoong’s own memories tainted by his bullying. The contrasting perspectives sparked a connection—an ember igniting unexpected warmth between them.

As weeks turned into months, Jiwoong found it increasingly difficult to contain his feelings. The connection blossomed into something deeper. Jiwoong started correcting his behavior, apologizing to those he teased, awkwardly searching for ways to show kindness to Hao. Whenever they were paired up for group projects, Jiwoong felt a rush of happiness. He grew addicted to the sound of Hao’s laughter and the way his eyes sparkled when they engaged in friendly debates.

The pivotal moment arrived during the school’s annual talent show, where students showcased their abilities. Hao had signed up to perform a traditional Chinese dance, and the entire school crowded into the auditorium to watch. Jiwoong sat among the audience, completely mesmerized by Hao’s grace and poise. His heart swelled with pride, watching someone he once bullied take the stage with such confidence.

After the performance, overwhelmed with emotion, Jiwoong approached Hao backstage. “You were amazing! I—I’m really sorry for how I treated you before. You deserve better,” Jiwoong stumbled with his words, his heart racing.

Hao looked at him, surprise flickering through his calm demeanor. “Thank you, Jiwoong,” he replied, an understanding smile gracing his face. “I’ve always believed that words can hurt, but they can also heal if we let them.”

Jiwoong nodded, a weight lifting off his shoulders. In that instant, with the lights dimmed and echoes of applause still ringing in the air, he realized he wanted more than friendship. He wanted to be close to this boy who had captured his heart.

As the school year drew to a close, Jiwoong gathered his courage. One sunny afternoon, while sitting under the cherry blossom tree—where they’d often talked and laughed—he reached for Hao’s hand. “Can we… can we be more than friends?” he asked, voice trembling with vulnerability.

Hao looked deeply into Jiwoong’s eyes, and an unspoken understanding passed between them. “I’d like that,” he replied softly, squeezing Jiwoong’s hand. “I’d like that a lot.”

From that day on, Jiwoong transformed from the school bully to Hao’s biggest supporter, and together, they navigated the challenges of adolescence. Their friendship blossomed into a love that embraced both their differences and similarities, proving that even the roughest beginnings could lead to a beautiful story of acceptance and growth.

As the seasons turned and blossoms fell into place, Jiwoong and Hao discovered that love, much like cherry blossoms, could be delicate yet enduring, adding color to their once monochromatic lives. They learned together and loved together, carving out a space where they could be themselves—all while rewriting the narrative of their story to one filled with laughter, understanding, and compassion.