Five years ago.
The autumn when I was fifteen and my parents passed away.
I was only a second-year middle school student, and I became completely alone.
The day after the funeral, when I went back to school for the first time in a while, the homeroom teacher stood me in front of the class during the closing period and said this:
“Seungwoo’s parents had an accident and went through some bad things. Since you’re all in the same class, please be extra careful with him. Uh, and, well… don’t make things harder for him since he’s already having a tough time. Uh, and be friendly. Mm, that’s all. Class dismissed.”
Without even asking how I felt, the homeroom teacher roughly threw out the news of my parents’ passing to the class.
Looking back now, he was a teacher who didn’t show even a speck of consideration.
‘…Isn’t comforting someone supposed to come first?’
Even at that young age, I thought that much.
Then, the homeroom teacher immediately called me to the staff room.
“Since compulsory education goes up to middle school, there shouldn’t be much burden regarding tuition. Ah, and, well, the principal said that if you rank within the top five in the class, you’ll get a scholarship, so keep that in mind. Alright, off you go.”
All he talked about was money.
He didn’t care at all what I was thinking or feeling.
The classmates weren’t much different either.
‘…No, rather, they didn’t even try to get close.’
I was treated like a bomb that would explode with even the slightest touch.
That only made me curl up smaller and smaller.
A person curled up like that usually gets looked down upon and ignored by those around them.
Of course, adults might look down on or ignore others, but they usually don’t show it openly.
Because they know such behavior damages their own reputation and makes them socially condemned.
But children are different.
Especially fifteen-year-olds, whose bodies and minds are both immature.
Sympathetic looks gradually turned into cold indifference.
‘Ignore him.’
‘We weren’t even close, so what.’
‘We wouldn’t be able to help anyway…’
Soon enough, I became invisible.
That wasn’t to say I blamed the other kids.
If I put myself in their shoes, I might have acted the same way.
One day during class, I slipped out and went alone to the rooftop.
The rooftop door, usually locked tight, was wide open that day.
Someone probably forgot to lock it after working up there.
Anyway, I sat alone on the empty school rooftop for hours, just staring at the sky.
It was quiet.
- “I—!”
The cheerful voices from the playground below only deepened the rooftop’s silence.
I felt like no one would be sad or remember me if I disappeared.
I remember quietly rising and leaning against the rooftop railing at that moment.
Then—
“No, you can’t do that!”
Suddenly, with a shrill shout, someone rushed in and pulled me away from the railing.
Startled by the sudden move, we both lost our balance and fell backward together.
“W-what…?”
Rubbing the back of my head and lifting my gaze, I saw a girl looking at me with tears glistening in her eyes.
A girl from my class whose name I only vaguely knew.
Moon Ari.
“No matter how hard things get, y-you can’t d-die! You have to live and show them you’re doing well! To your parents in heaven… sniffle…”
Then Ari suddenly began to cry as if her world was collapsing.
I quietly watched her and muttered,
“I wasn’t thinking about dying…”
“Oh? R-really…? You were looking down past the railing, so I thought…”
Wiping her tears with the back of her hand, Ari sheepishly laughed.
When I asked how she found me on the rooftop, she said she saw me suddenly disappear during class and worried, so she had unconsciously followed me.
After that, Ari, still sniffling, said,
“Actually… my parents died when I was very young, too. So I know how you feel. If you ever have a hard time, I’ll listen to your worries. But you have to listen to mine, too, okay?”
Looking back, Ari was quite an unusual girl in many ways.
She would suddenly spread out a notebook during class and draw scores, humming the songs she made during breaks, often resting her chin by the window.
‘…A strange kid.’
That was the impression Ari gave.
Because of this unique personality, she became a bit of an outcast among the kids.
Then one day—
“Starting now, we’re switching seats. Grab your bags and sit wherever you want. Don’t sit in the same place! Move quickly.”
During closing period, the homeroom teacher ordered, and the students hurriedly moved seats.
But I stayed put in my usual spot at the very back by the window.
The homeroom teacher pretended not to notice and left me alone.
The problem was that no one wanted to sit next to me.
Except for one.
“Uh… the window seat! Can I sit here?”
It was Moon Ari.
Later, she told me she just wanted to sit by the window.
So the two invisible kids in the class became desk partners.
From the perspective of the other students, it was just one invisible kid becoming two.
But for the once-lonely invisible person, that meant a lot.
From that day on, Ari often spoke to me.
She called me by the strange nickname “Songsong.”
“Songsong, my mom used to say this all the time: ‘99% of people don’t care about others. Of the remaining 1%, there are two kinds of people. What do you think those two kinds are?’”
“I don’t know.”
“One kind are those who torment or sadden others! And the other kind are kind people who care for others and offer help… I want to be that kind.”
‘…Alright.’
“What? I just told you my mom’s wise saying… and you’re on the 99% side, huh?”
Also, what stands out about Ari was how easily she laughed at even the smallest things.
She liked snacking quietly during class.
She always shared her snacks and candies with me.
When I accepted them, she would giggle nonstop, as if it made her so happy.
“Now you’re my accomplice, Songsong…”
I think she whispered that with a sly smile.
On the other hand, she was so emotionally sensitive she cried easily.
She would hum her own songs, and suddenly get overwhelmed with feelings and sob.
Once, when we read Hwang Sun-won’s “The Shower” during Korean class, she spent the whole day shedding tears like raindrops.
Come to think of it, there was this one time, too.
Since I often got snacks from her, one day I was the one who offered her a chocolate.
“Here, eat this.”
“…Huh? Chocolate? For me?”
Then a sudden tear rolled down Ari’s cheek.
Startled by the unexpected reaction, I watched as she sniffled and said,
“Thank you for remembering my birthday…”
‘…Birthday?’
“Yeah, don’t you know it’s my birthday today? You gave me chocolate as a present, didn’t you?”
“I really like chocolate! Thanks, Songsong.”
She wasn’t being sarcastic.
She was genuinely grateful.
So I sighed softly and said,
“Let’s go to Rodeo Street after school. To pick out your birthday present.”
“W-what? You’re giving me two gifts? Th-thank you…”
That day, I remember Ari shed all the tears a normal person might in a year.
But a few weeks later, after the inheritance issue with my parents was settled, I stopped going to school.
The darkness eating away at my childhood was too deep for the small light Ari brought to brighten it.
After that, Ari kept coming to our house with organization letters or her class notes, but I never once opened the door.
I simply didn’t want to.
Everything outside my room.
I didn’t want to be hurt.
Not by anyone.
Finishing the memory, I lightly shook my head.
‘…But I’m not the fifteen-year-old me anymore.’
I opened the door and stepped out of my room.
With help from many people, and my own courage, I took a step forward.
Having experienced life shut away in a room, I understood more than anyone how that feels.
If Ari gave up on her dream of becoming a singer now, she too would retreat into her own room.
Whether it became a literal room or an empty life bereft of dreams.
Just then, Ari finished her song and raised the microphone.
- [Thank you for listening. It’s been almost five years since I started busking here every week. But I probably won’t be able to greet you from next week. I had a really good time. I cried a lot and laughed a lot, but looking back, all those moments are unforgettable memories.]
She smiled as brightly as she could, tears welling in her eyes.
Her personality—easily crying and laughing—seemed unchanged.
- [Thank you so much for everything. Now, for the last song, I will end my final busking with ‘Song of the Hedgehog’s Dream.’ If anyone knows it, please sing along!]
But there was no response.
Besides the agency staff who came to help, there wasn’t a single audience member.
Then, as Ari sang the chorus, she finally broke down and cried.
Tears falling drop by drop.
Her slender shoulders shaking gently, her pale hands trembling.
But only for a moment.
She didn’t run away but bravely finished the last verse.
Still, the passersby didn’t stop.
They glanced over briefly, then turned away and hurried on their way.
Just as Ari said, 99% of people have no interest in others.
Moreover, there are terrible people who take pleasure in hurting others.
Only an extremely small 0.5% understand and care for others.
Five years ago.
Like Moon Ari, who sat silently beside me.
With no hidden motives, just pure kindness.
She became my 0.5% friend.
I looked at Ari gently.
She was wiping tears like raindrops while putting her acoustic guitar back in its case.
“…This time, I’ll be the 0.5%.”