The morning of the results feels unreal.
Not exciting.
Not terrifying.
Just… unreal.
I wake before my alarm, as if my body knows today is different. The sky outside my window is a pale winter blue, the kind that feels clean and unforgiving at the same time. Everything inside me feels hollow—like someone scooped out all my thoughts and left only an echoing space behind. Maybe this is what numbness feels like. Maybe it's a kind of protection.
I sit up slowly, my hands cold against the blanket. For days after the CSAT, I'd replayed each question in my head, imagining every possible mistake, every point I might've lost. But eventually even those obsessive thoughts faded because there was nothing left to do. Waiting became a kind of torture… and a kind of stillness.
Today, that stillness breaks. I shower, dress, and move through the house quietly. The usual morning noise hasn't started yet; the house feels like it's holding its breath along with me. In the kitchen, eomma is already awake. She's sitting at the table, staring at her phone, though she pretends she wasn't.
"You're up early," she says softly.
"So are you," I answer.
She gives me a small smile that tries to be comforting but loses its strength halfway. "Do you… want to check together? Or alone?"
Alone. Definitely alone. But saying that out loud feels too harsh.
"I'll… check in my room," I say quietly.
She nods as if she expected that. "Whatever happens, Hanbinnie, we're proud of you."
I swallow hard. Her words feel heavier than the result itself. Before I head back to my room, she reaches out and holds my hand briefly. Her palm is warm. Mine is ice-cold. "You're enough, you know that, right?"
"I… I'll go check now."
I pull away gently, not because I want to but because if I stay even a second longer, I might not be able to breathe. My room feels too quiet. The air feels thick. I sit at my desk, open my laptop, and stare at the login screen for what feels like an eternity. My hands shake as I type in my information. The loading bar spins slowly—mocking me, stretching out the moment like elastic pulled too far. Then the page loads. For a second, I forget how to breathe.
Seoul National University – Accepted.
The words sit calmly in the center of the screen, indifferent to my shock. My heart, which had been pounding like a trapped bird, suddenly stops altogether before picking up again in a dizzying rush.
Accepted.
I blink once.
Twice.
A third time.
I whisper the word under my breath, as if saying it out loud will make it more real.
"Accepted…"
It doesn't feel real. My chest tightens—not in panic, but in something unfamiliar. A release. A warmth that spreads slowly, cautiously, like it's afraid to startle me. After months and years of pressure pressing down on my shoulders, something inside me finally loosens. I lean back in my chair, letting the air leave my lungs in a long, shaky exhale. I did it. I actually did it. For a moment, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. Neither feels natural. Emotion feels too big to fit inside my chest. I close my eyes and let myself feel it fully—relief washing over me like warm water, exhaustion creeping in, pride mixing with disbelief. I never allow myself to be proud. Pride feels dangerous, like it might collapse under its own weight. But now… it feels earned. My fingers tremble as I shut the laptop gently. My throat burns. I press my palms against my eyes hoping to calm myself, but all it does is make the tears gather faster. Not sobbing, not loud—just quiet warmth collecting at the edges of my vision. I wipe my eyes before leaving the room. Even now, even in this moment, I don't want anyone to see me cry.
When I step out into the hallway, eomma is already standing there. She must have been waiting the entire time. She sees my face. She doesn't ask anything. She simply pulls me into her arms.
"You did well," she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. "My son did so well."
I don't know how to hug people properly, so I stand awkwardly for a moment before lifting my arms slowly to return the embrace. Her warmth breaks something open inside me, and I hold onto her a little tighter. Footsteps thunder down the hallway.
"WHAT HAPPENED? WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY IS EVERYONE QUIET?!"
Harin appears like a whirlwind, her hair sticking out in all directions.
Before I can answer, she sees my expression and gasps. "Oh my god. Did you… did you pass? You passed, didn't you?!" The moment I nod, she shrieks.
"HANBIN OPPA GOT IN?!! YOU GOT IN?!! WHICH UNI?! TELL ME RIGHT NOW!"
Her voice shakes the walls.
"Seoul National… University," I say, the words feeling surreal even as I speak them.
Harin lets out another scream and jumps at me, hugging me too tightly, squeezing the air out of my lungs. "OPPA! You're insane! You're literally insane! I can't believe it! You're a genius!"
"I can't… breathe," I whisper.
She releases me with a sniffle. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm just… I'm so proud of you."
Then another voice echoes from downstairs:
"WHY IS HARIN SCREAMING? DID WE WIN THE LOTTERY?"
Hyuk hyung appears at the top of the stairs in two giant leaps, hair wild, eyes wide. He looks at me. At eomma. At Harin, who's wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"…No way," he says, pointing at me dramatically. "You got in, didn't you?"
I nod again. He lets out a loud laugh—the kind that fills the entire house—and pulls me into a tight hug that nearly cracks my ribs. "I knew it! I freaking knew it! My little bro got into SNU! Everyone bow before the future genius of this family!"
"I'm not—"
"You ARE," he cuts me off. "You worked harder than anyone. Don't even argue."
I look away because I don't know how to accept praise. It feels too bright, almost blinding. But for once… I let it be.
Appa comes home later, quieter than the others, but when he hears the news, he places a hand on my shoulder—the firm, steady kind of touch that says more than words ever could. His eyes soften with pride, the corners crinkling slightly.
"Well done, Hanbin," he says simply. "You've earned your future."
And somehow, those quiet words hit deeper than all the cheers and shouting. We eat dinner together with more energy and noise than our house has heard in months. Eomma cooks all my favorite dishes, even though I tell her she didn't have to. She pretends not to hear me. Harin refuses to stop bragging about me. Hyuk hyung makes jokes so dramatic that even appa cracks a smile. Through all the noise, I sit there quietly—listening, observing, letting their happiness wash over me like warmth. For once, being the center of attention doesn't feel terrifying. It feels… like home.
Later that night, I lie in bed and stare at the ceiling again—just like I did all those sleepless nights before the exam. But now, the feeling is different. Lighter. My future is no longer a cliff edge I'm standing on. It's a door opening. Seoul National University. A place I never allowed myself to imagine too seriously because dreaming too big always felt like setting myself up for disappointment. But here I am.
Accepted.
I breathe in slowly. Then exhale. The world feels wide again. For the first time in a long time… I'm not afraid of what comes next.