The night had passed with unusual tranquility. For the first time in months, Soo-jin had fallen into a deep, uninterrupted sleep, her body finally surrendering to exhaustion after the emotional release of the previous evening. When morning light filtered through Min-ah's curtains, she woke feeling strangely disoriented, the unfamiliar ceiling momentarily confusing her before memory rushed back.
She blinked slowly, noticing how rested she felt despite the emotional storm that had preceded her sleep. Her muscles, usually tense and ready for training even in repose, felt relaxed against the mattress. Soo-jin couldn't remember the last time she had slept so deeply perhaps not since before the phone call about Min-ah's "accident."
Moving with automatic precision, she stretched methodically, feeling each vertebra align as she extended her arms above her head. Her body responded with familiar readiness despite the uncharacteristic rest. The digital clock on Min-ah's nightstand showed 6:24 AM hours before classes would begin at Hankuk Elite Academy.
"Plenty of time," she murmured to herself, reaching for her school blazer and draping it over her arm.
A glance around the apartment confirmed yesterday's cleaning efforts had transformed the space. No longer a shrine to Min-ah's final morning, it now existed in a state of transition still unmistakably her sister's domain but with subtle signs of Soo-jin's presence beginning to emerge in the apartment.
Her stomach growled, reminding her of the practical concerns that awaited. The refrigerator contained nothing but expired products, and the cupboards held only a few packages of instant noodles. If she was going to use this apartment as her base of operations, she needed supplies.
So after a quick shower and change into casual clothes her preferred athletic wear rather than Min-ah's more formal options Soo-jin made a mental inventory of necessities. Groceries topped the list, followed by basic toiletries and cleaning supplies. Her limited budget meant careful planning the scholarship covered tuition and books but little of everything else.
As she stepped into the hallway, locking the apartment door behind her Soo-jin heard the familiar sound of watering plants. Mrs. Park was outside her ground-floor apartment again, this time tending to a row of potted herbs that lined the small communal area near the entrance.
"Good morning," Soo-jin called, offering a respectful bow as she approached the elderly woman.
Mrs. Park looked up, her weathered face brightening with a smile that created a constellation of wrinkles around her eyes. "Ah, young Song! Up early, I see. Just like your sister always the first one stirring in the building."
"Was she?" Soo-jin asked, genuinely curious about this small detail of Min-ah's daily life. Her sister had always been an early riser at home too, often finishing homework before Soo-jin had even dragged herself out of bed.
"Oh yes," Mrs. Park nodded, setting down her watering can. "Sometimes I'd hear her practicing her presentations at dawn. Such a dedicated student." Her expression softened with something like concern. "Though in those last few weeks, I noticed she was coming home later and later. When I asked if everything was alright, she just smiled that kind smile of hers and said school projects were keeping her busy at school."
Soo-jin filed this information away another piece of the puzzle. Min-ah staying late at school in the period before her "accident" could be significant. Because she knew her sister would never do that unless she really needed to.
"I'm still getting accustomed to the apartment" Soo-jin said shifting the conversation. "I need to pick up some groceries and other necessities. Is there a supermarket nearby?"
"Of course, dear," Mrs. Park pointed down the street. "Two blocks that way and one block to the right. Can't miss it—big blue sign, next to the pharmacy. Reasonable prices, much better than the convenience store around the corner."
"Thank you," Soo-jin replied. Then, remembering the social niceties that Min-ah had always handled with ease, she added, "I was thinking of making some rice cakes soon, as an introduction to the neighbors. Other than yourself, who else should I know about in the building?"
Mrs. Park's eyes lit up at the mention of rice cakes. "How thoughtful! Just like your sister I see. Well, there are four other students here from that fancy school of yours, but I rarely see them they come and go like ghosts not really saying anything much. Third floor like yours, apartments 301, 303, and 304. Always busy, those ones."
Soo-jin's noted this to her mind. Students from Hankuk living in the same building as Min-ah? That couldn't be coincidence not with the tuition costs and wealthy backgrounds of most attendees. Why would elite students choose this modest building? These questions sparked her interest at her floormates.
"Anyone else?" she asked casually.
"Three families," Mrs. Park continued, apparently pleased to be the building's unofficial historian. "The Kims in 201 have a daughter in middle school. Lovely child, plays the violin. The Chois in 204 have a son in elementary school—bit of a troublemaker, that one. And the Lees in 202 have twins, sweet boys, staying with their uncle while the parents are working overseas. Those children will always be hanging out at the playground at the afternoon." Then she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "The uncle works nights, some security job, I think. Never see him during daylight hours."
Soo-jin nodded, committing the information to memory. The layout of the building was becoming clearer Mrs. Park on the ground floor, three families on the second floor, and the third floor occupied by Min-ah's apartment, three other Hankuk students, and herself. A compact community that might hold insights into her sister's day to day life.
"Thank you for the information, Mrs. Park. I should get to the store before it gets too late. School starts in a few hours."
"Of course, dear. Don't let me keep you." The elderly woman returned to her plants, humming softly as Soo-jin made her way to the building's entrance.
The morning air was crisp with early autumn coolness, the streets still relatively quiet as the neighborhood slowly awakened. Soo-jin walked with purposeful strides, following Mrs. Park's directions while keeping alert to her surroundings a habit ingrained from years of martial arts training.
The supermarket was exactly where Mrs. Park had described, its blue sign visible from the corner. Inside, fluorescent lights illuminated orderly aisles stocked with necessities. Soo-jin moved efficiently, selecting the basics rice, vegetables, eggs, a few packages of meat, tea that reminded her of what Min-ah used to drink, toiletries, and cleaning supplies. Nothing extravagant, but enough to establish a functional living space for herself.
As she navigated the cereal aisle, focused on comparing prices between brands, Soo-jin didn't notice the figure who passed by her a young man moving with deliberate casualness, his school bag slung over one shoulder. Had she looked up at that precise moment, she might have recognized the same student she had collided with in the hallway the previous day, the one whose suddenly ran and left without saying even anything.
But her attention remained on the task at hand, and the moment passed without recognition.
The young man continued to the checkout, paid for his small purchase with practiced efficiency, and exited the store. Outside, a man waited by the entrance tall, broad shouldered, with the confident posture of someone accustomed to authority. The silhouette was strikingly similar to the other student who had intercepted Soo-jin's attempt to visit her sister's former classroom.
They exchanged words briefly, the one with the glasses passing something to the other before they walked away together, their conversation inaudible to anyone who might have been observing.
Inside the supermarket, Soo-jin remained unaware of this encounter as she completed her shopping, paid at the register, and gathered her bags. Her mind was already mapping out the day ahead organizing the apartment, preparing for classes and making study plans, planning her initial reconnaissance of Hankuk's social structure, and scheduling visits to introduce herself to the neighbors.
As she stepped back into the morning light, grocery bags weighing down her arms, Soo-jin couldn't have known that paths had already crossed, that invisible threads were weaving around her, and that the seemingly random encounters of her first day at Hankuk were anything but accidental.
The building came back into view as she rounded the corner, its unremarkable façade concealing connections she had yet to unravel. Behind those windows and doors were people who might have known of Min-ah's decline, who might hold fragments of the truth she sought perhaps even some who had contributed to whatever drove her sister to that rainy rooftop.
With each step back toward the apartment, Soo-jin's resolve strengthened. The night's emotional breakdown had cleansed something within her, leaving behind a crystalline clarity of purpose. Whatever web of secrets and hierarchies existed at Hankuk Elite Academy, she would untangle it thread by thread, no matter where or to whom those threads led she will find the truth.