April 17, 2005

  Rustle, rustle. Jung Min-ju rummaged through her bag. As school ended, some girls noticed her searching. “…What’s wrong? Lose something?” Jung Min-ju looked up, smiling awkwardly. “…Oh, uh… I think my bracelet’s gone.” The girls gasped. “…What? You lost it? Want us to help look?” They gave her sympathetic looks. Jung Min-ju panicked briefly. “…Huh? No, it’s fine. My dad’ll buy me another.” She laughed it off, waving as the girls left. “…Damn it… that thing was expensive…” Jung Min-ju scoured around her bag. No one was watching, but she was frantic. “…I saved up three months for that…”

  Jung Min-ju had grown up affluent until sixth grade, surrounded by friends and never lonely. But in seventh grade, everything changed. Her father’s business went bankrupt, forcing them to sell their house and move far away. Ko A-young, an orphan, became her only friend. To fit in with new friends and buy expensive cosmetics and accessories, Jung Min-ju started part-time jobs, but it wasn’t easy. She’d already lied to her new friends, claiming she was still rich. “Ugh…! Seriously! Nothing’s going right!” She threw her bag. Crash! It hit a desk, knocking several over. Among them, a heavy envelope fell from one.

  “…Huh? What’s that?” Jung Min-ju approached. She picked up the envelope and checked inside—several 50,000-won bills. Startled, she shoved it back onto the desk. “…What? Why’s there so much money?” She restored the desks to their original state. “…Phew… finally fixed it. Should’ve just left the bracelet and gone…” She glanced at the desk with the envelope. Thinking it over, she realized it was an unused desk. “…Guess someone left it there. Not my business.” Then, a memory from last year hit her. She’d seen Song Jae-seob steal a girl’s item during a break and plant it in Ko A-young’s bag. Too scared to speak up, she stayed silent. Later, when Song Jae-seob caught her watching, he forced her to keep lookout.

  “…No way.” Footsteps approached from the hallway. Jung Min-ju quickly hid behind the classroom podium. Ko A-young entered, grabbed the envelope from the desk, and muttered, “…Ugh, nothing good. Oh well…” She left. Jung Min-ju, who’d been covering her mouth, gasped. “…Huff… huff… ha…” Dropping her head, she covered her face with her arms. Her trembling hands gripped the podium as she stepped forward. “Ha… haha… that crazy… thief…” Jung Min-ju started laughing.

  …

  April 10, 2006

  6 a.m. As dawn gave way to morning, the dark night brightened with sunlight. Leaving the café, Gamamusa and Jung Min-ju sat on a park bench, facing each other. Gamamusa looked at her, while Jung Min-ju stared at the ground, head bowed. He offered her a coffee from a vending machine and sipped his own. Slurp… “…Ha… Min-ju, we’ve been talking all night, but you still haven’t answered. Why?” Jung Min-ju’s arms trembled. Gamamusa sighed. “…Let me break it down again, Min-ju. The money A-young took was your class’s sports festival fund. She stole it to frame you by planting it on your desk but mixed up the desks. Got it?” Jung Min-ju’s arms shook harder.

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  “…Why me? I didn’t ruin her life…” Gamamusa sighed. “…Min-ju, A-young didn’t target your desk because of you. Song Jae-seob made her do it. You know that, right? He offered you a deal too—help frame A-young as a thief, and he’d stop bullying you.” Jung Min-ju stayed silent, then looked up. Her eyes held not guilt but anger. “…So why’d A-young steal my bracelet? Was that Song Jae-seob’s idea too?” Gamamusa scratched his face. “…No. When Song Jae-seob demanded money, A-young could’ve stolen from anyone. She took your bracelet… because she was jealous. You suddenly got all the attention she used to have.” He crossed his arms. “…She stole other kids’ stuff too, but nothing as valuable as yours.”

  Jung Min-ju looked up, smirking at Gamamusa. “…So, why’d you call me here? Hoping I’d feel guilty?” Gamamusa didn’t respond. Jung Min-ju pressed him. “…You’re mistaken if you think I owe A-young anything. I didn’t frame her for stealing. Even when I was broke, I worked hard and paid Song Jae-seob. A-young stole from our class because she’s shameless. Who held a gun to her head and made her steal?” Gamamusa watched her quietly. “…Really? Then answer this: when Song Jae-seob extorted you or others, did you ever tell a teacher?” Jung Min-ju flinched. “…No, but even if I had, he’d have gotten off. He had connections.” Gamamusa stroked his chin. “…Oh? Then why’d you spread rumors around school when A-young stole?”

  Jung Min-ju was speechless. She sipped her coffee and answered. “…Because she took my stuff.” Gamamusa nodded. “…I see. Makes sense. If you’d gone after Song Jae-seob, you’d have suffered more, so you stayed quiet. But when A-young hurt you, you didn’t hold back. She was powerless—once you stepped on her, she couldn’t fight back.” Jung Min-ju bristled at his words. He continued. “…The so-called ‘victims’ of her thefts are the same. They stayed silent when Song Jae-seob hurt A-young but cursed her when she hurt them. Even those who weren’t affected joined in. It’s understandable. A-young’s not someone who can beat up her critics, is she?”

  Jung Min-ju snapped. “…So what do you want us to do? Forgive A-young?” Gamamusa glared at her coldly. “…You’re not getting it, Min-ju. This isn’t about forgiveness.” She shrank under his gaze. He loomed over her. “…If the students had tried to solve the problem, it would’ve been simple. If everyone had stood up to Song Jae-seob’s thuggery or helped A-young stop stealing, none of this would’ve happened.” He shook his head. “…You didn’t curse A-young to uphold justice or solve anything. You were angry because you were hurt and because the culprit couldn’t fight back.” Gamamusa leaned closer. “You didn’t solve the problem. You couldn’t stop A-young’s thefts and ignored Song Jae-seob’s crimes. Know what we call people who fail to solve problems? ‘Losers.’”