If I Write, Does It Matter?

As it should be

Jiwoo narrowed her eyes. "Don't even start," she whispered.

"I didn't say anything."

"You got that look. The 'I'm thinking about Ardenfall again' look."

Seora tried to listen normally, but her mind drifted.

Collapsed kingdoms.
Forgotten history.
Royal families lost to time.

She tapped her pen against her desk, half-focused, half somewhere else.

Mr. Han continued, "Some kingdoms disappear because of war, some because of internal corruption, and some..."
He paused.
"...simply vanish from the records. Erased, lost, or never properly documented."

Seora's heart did an annoying little skip.

Jiwoo elbowed her. "Stop glowing. You look like a lamp."

"I'm not glowing," Seora whispered.

"You're glowing."

She wasn't. Probably.

Lunch break finally came like a blessing from above. The cafeteria smelled like kimchi, fries, and something that might've been soup if it tried harder.

Seora sat with Jiwoo at their usual table near the windows. She opened her lunchbox. Rice, fried egg, stir-fried veggies. Her mom's cooking. Reliable. Comforting.

Jiwoo stared into her own lunchbox. "Seora."

"Yeah?"

"I asked my mom for fried chicken."

"And?"

"She gave me cucumber slices."

Seora handed Jiwoo half her egg. "Here."

Jiwoo clutched it dramatically. "You're the only reason I survive this school."

"I know."

A group of boys walked by arguing about which video game character was strongest. Someone tripped over nothing and pretended he didn't. A girl sat down nearby and instantly complained about her group project.

Typical lunch chaos.

Typical school.

Nothing dramatic.

Just Seora eating egg, Jiwoo suffering over cucumbers, and life being painfully normal.

After lunch, classes dragged on. English. Then Science. Then PE, which Seora despised with her entire soul. Running was illegal in her personal moral code.

She jogged exactly one lap before deciding she'd rather faint.

Jiwoo jogged beside her, panting. "I swear... if I survive this... I'm dropping out."

"You can't drop out in your final year," Seora said.

"I can if I fake my death."

"You won't."

"I might."

"You won't."

PE ended with everyone sweating, suffering, and swearing revenge on the coach.
The day resumed its normal pace.

After school, Seora and Jiwoo walked home together.
A breeze picked up, warm and soft.
The streets buzzed with students heading to cram school or convenience stores.
Cars honked lazily.
A dog barked from someone's balcony like it was giving a TED talk.

Jiwoo nudged her. "So. Weekend plans?"

"Same as usual," Seora said. "Homework. Reading."

"And by reading, you mean researching it again?"

"It's interesting."

"It's creepy how invested you are."

Seora hugged her bag. "It's fascinating. It disappeared so cleanly. Like it got wiped out. No remaining structure, no exact timeline, barely any records. Doesn't that make you curious?"

"Curious? No. Concerned? Yes."

"Well, I like mysteries."

"Then solve one that doesn't involve dead royalty."

Seora laughed, rolling her eyes. "I'll think about it."

They reached Jiwoo's building first. Jiwoo waved dramatically like she was boarding a ship to war. "See you tomorrow, tragic historian."

"See you, drama queen."

Seora continued down the street alone, the sun dipping lower behind the rooftops.
Shadows stretched long across the pavement.
A couple walked past her holding hands.
Kids on bicycles zoomed around like they were immortal.

And Seora?

She just headed home,
A normal day.
A normal walk.
A normal life.

And it stayed perfectly ordinary all the way until she reached her front door, kicked off her shoes, dropped her bag, and flopped face-down onto her bed with a muffled groan.

Another day survived.

Just life.

Exactly how it should be.

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