The next Monday began with a missing notebook.
It belonged to Aera.
She realized it halfway through the first lesson.
She opened her bag, checked the front pocket, then the larger compartment.
Nothing.
She checked again.
Still nothing.
Her notebook wasn't valuable.
It wasn't the dark blue sketchbook Daewon had given her.
It wasn't her photography notebook either.
It was an ordinary school notebook filled with unfinished notes, small drawings in the margins, and several pages she had written while waiting for classes to begin.
But she knew she had brought it to school.
She remembered placing it inside her bag that morning.
She searched under her desk.
Nothing.
Daewon noticed.
"Lost something?"
"My notebook."
"The blue one?"
"No, the school one."
"When did you last have it?"
"This morning."
He thought.
"Maybe the library?"
"I didn't go there."
"The photography room?"
"No."
"Your locker?"
"I checked."
Aera sighed.
"I'll find it later."
Daewon nodded.
The lesson continued.
But Aera kept thinking about the missing notebook.
Not because of the notes inside.
Because there were three photographs tucked between its pages.
Small printed photographs.
One was of the old reading shelter.
One was of the school hallway before it was repainted.
The third was a photograph she had taken months ago and never shown anyone.
She couldn't remember exactly why she had kept it.
She simply knew she didn't want to lose it.
During the break, she searched again.
Still nothing.
Daewon helped.
They checked the classroom shelves.
The library.
The photography room.
The art room.
Nothing.
Then they returned to the classroom.
Aera sat down.
She looked under her desk one more time.
And found it.
The notebook was there.
Wedged between the wall and the leg of the desk.
She stared at it.
"I've been looking for this for two hours."
Daewon crouched beside her.
"How did it get there?"
"I don't know."
She opened it.
The three photographs were still inside.
She sighed with relief.
Then she laughed.
"What?"
"I was worried about losing these."
Daewon looked at the photographs.
"Why?"
Aera held them carefully.
"I don't know."
He smiled.
"You've been saying that a lot lately."
"I know."
She put the photographs back.
"Maybe I'll understand later."
At lunch, they sat together near the window.
Aera opened the notebook again.
She looked through the pages.
There were small observations everywhere.
The vending machine made a different sound today.
Seojun fell asleep during science.
Someone left a red umbrella outside the classroom.
The hallway smelled like paint.
The old man at the reading shelter brought books.
They were insignificant things.
Things she could have forgotten.
Yet somehow, she had written them down.
Daewon read a few.
"You write a lot."
"I know."
"Do you remember all of these?"
"No."
"Then why write them?"
Aera thought.
"Maybe because I don't want to depend on remembering."
Daewon looked at her.
She continued.
"Memory changes."
He nodded.
"It does."
"Sometimes I remember something differently after a year."
"So do I."
"That's why I photograph things."
Daewon looked at the notebook.
"And write things."
"Yes."
He smiled.
"You're building your own memory."
Aera considered that.
"I guess."
Then she looked at him.
"What about you?"
"What?"
"You draw things."
Daewon thought for a moment.
"Maybe I'm doing the same thing."
The lunch bell hadn't rung yet.
They stayed by the window.
Neither spoke.
The classroom around them was noisy, but their corner felt strangely calm.
Then Seojun appeared.
"You two."
They looked up.
"What?"
"I have a question."
Daewon waited.
"Are you going to bring us souvenirs?"
Aera laughed.
"From Busan?"
"Yes."
"What do you want?"
Seojun thought seriously.
"Something expensive."
"That's not happening."
"Then something famous."
"You don't even know what Busan is famous for."
"Food."
Minjae appeared behind him.
"Get me something sweet."
Daewon looked at them.
"Why are we responsible for your summer vacation?"
"Because you're going somewhere."
"We're not bringing you anything."
Seojun placed a hand over his chest.
"Cruel."
Aera smiled.
"What if I bring you a photograph?"
Seojun looked disappointed.
"Can I eat it?"
"No."
"Then no."
Minjae laughed.
Daewon shook his head.
"Fine. I'll bring something."
Seojun immediately smiled.
"See? Daewon understands friendship."
"You're getting a pencil."
"That's not a souvenir."
"It is if I draw something on it."
Seojun pointed at him.
"Deal."
The conversation ended.
But Aera looked at Daewon.
"You're actually going to bring him something?"
"I regret saying it already."
She smiled.
After school, Aera went to the photography room.
She wanted to print a few photographs before the workshop.
Not for an assignment.
Just because she wanted to see them on paper.
She selected several.
The reading shelter.
The old hallway.
The classroom window.
Aera and Daewon standing outside the exhibition hall months ago.
The hidden garden.
She stopped before printing the last one.
It was a photograph of Daewon sitting on the rooftop.
The same photograph she had shown Sora.
She wasn't sure whether she wanted to print it.
Eventually, she did.
The printer hummed.
The photograph slowly appeared.
She held it carefully.
Then placed it beside the others.
Something looked different when photographs were printed.
On a screen, they were easy to swipe past.
On paper, they stayed.
Aera understood why Sora liked prints.
A photograph on paper demanded more attention.
She placed the rooftop photograph at the bottom of the pile.
Then she noticed something.
There was another photograph underneath it.
She didn't remember selecting it.
She pulled it out.
It was old.
Very old.
The colors had faded slightly.
It showed a rainy street.
Two children stood beneath a blue umbrella.
One was mostly hidden.
The other was looking toward the camera.
Aera stared.
She knew the photograph.
It was the childhood photograph from the winter exhibition.
The one connected to Yerin.
She had scanned it for the project months ago.
She hadn't printed it since.
Aera turned it over.
There was no writing.
She looked at it again.
Then she realized something.
She had been thinking about memory all day.
The missing notebook.
The photographs.
The things people forget.
The things they keep.
The things they remember incorrectly.
And now this old photograph was sitting in front of her.
She didn't know why it felt important.
Not because of the childhood story anymore.
That story had already been left alone.
Maybe because the photograph had survived.
Aera placed it beside the others.
Then she took one more photograph.
Not with her camera.
With her phone.
She photographed the collection of printed images lying across the desk.
Some were new.
Some were old.
Some belonged to school.
Some belonged to people she knew.
Some belonged only to her.
She saved the image.
Then wrote beneath it in her notebook:
Things I thought I would forget.
Daewon spent the same afternoon in the art room.
He had brought the old art book with him.
Mr. Kim noticed.
"You bought it?"
"Yes."
"Good."
Daewon opened to the unfinished paintings.
"I think I understand the assignment now."
Mr. Kim smiled.
"You're calling it an assignment again."
"Sorry."
"Don't apologize."
Daewon laughed.
He turned the pages.
Then he opened his own sketchbook.
There were several drawings inside.
The shelter.
The classroom.
The hallway.
The hidden garden.
The old bookstore.
He looked through them.
Then stopped.
One page contained a drawing he had made months ago.
It was the first time he had drawn Aera.
She was sitting near the window.
He had drawn her before he really knew her.
Before they became friends.
Before the rooftop.
Before the garden.
Before everything that came after.
He had almost forgotten about it.
Daewon stared at the page.
The drawing was simple.
Not very good.
The proportions were slightly wrong.
Her hair was too dark.
Her expression was barely visible.
But he remembered exactly where he had been sitting when he drew it.
He remembered the afternoon light.
He remembered thinking she looked lonely.
He remembered not knowing her name.
Daewon closed the sketchbook.
Mr. Kim watched him.
"What did you find?"
"Something old."
"Good or bad?"
"I don't know."
Mr. Kim nodded.
"Those are usually the interesting ones."
Daewon smiled.
He looked at the drawing again.
Then he added a small note beneath it.
Before I knew her.
He didn't change the drawing.
He didn't redraw it.
He didn't make it better.
He left it exactly as it was.
That evening, Daewon and Aera met near the convenience store.
Neither had planned it.
They simply happened to arrive at the same time.
Aera was holding a small envelope.
Daewon carried his sketchbook.
"You're carrying something."
"So are you."
"What did you print?"
Aera hesitated.
"Some old photographs."
Daewon opened his sketchbook.
"I found an old drawing."
"Of what?"
"You."
Aera blinked.
"Me?"
"Before I knew you."
She looked at him.
"Can I see it?"
Daewon hesitated.
Then he handed her the sketchbook.
Aera looked at the drawing.
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she smiled.
"I look sad."
"You were."
"You didn't know me."
"I know."
"Then how did you know?"
Daewon thought about it.
"I didn't."
Aera looked at him.
"I guess I just noticed."
She handed the sketchbook back.
"I like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"It isn't very good."
"I didn't say it was."
Daewon laughed.
She opened her envelope.
Inside were the photographs.
She showed him the rooftop picture.
Daewon looked at it.
"You took this?"
"Months ago."
"I don't remember."
"I do."
He looked at the photograph again.
"What was I thinking?"
"I don't know."
"That bothers you?"
"No."
Aera smiled.
"That's why I kept it."
Daewon looked at her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then he nodded.
"Okay."
They stood outside the convenience store while people passed around them.
Aera held the photographs.
Daewon held the sketchbook.
Neither object was particularly important.
Neither would change their lives.
But both had survived longer than expected.
Aera slipped the photographs back into the envelope.
"Do you think we'll forget things from this year?"
Daewon looked down the street.
"Probably."
"Even important things?"
"Maybe."
She was quiet.
Then he added,
"But forgetting something doesn't mean it didn't matter."
Aera looked at him.
He continued.
"Some things become part of you even if you don't remember exactly when they happened."
Aera smiled.
"That sounds like something Mr. Kim would say."
"Probably."
They began walking home.
Halfway to the corner, Aera stopped.
"Wait."
Daewon turned.
She took out her camera.
"What?"
"I want one."
"One what?"
"A photograph."
"Of me?"
She nodded.
Daewon stood still.
Aera raised the camera.
Then lowered it.
"No."
"What?"
"I changed my mind."
"Why?"
"I don't want to make you pose."
She looked around.
"Just walk."
Daewon started walking.
Aera followed with the camera.
Click.
He didn't turn around.
Click.
A bicycle passed between them.
Click.
Daewon stopped near the crosswalk.
Aera took one final photograph.
This time, she didn't check the screen.
She simply lowered the camera.
"What did you take?"
"You."
"How?"
"Walking."
"That doesn't tell me anything."
"I know."
The light changed.
They crossed the road.
Neither of them looked at the photograph yet.
Maybe they didn't need to.
Some moments were better before you knew exactly what they looked like.
And for now, the two of them were still walking through them together.