"Grab your pencils... and go!"
Hwanwoong watches fondly as his class starts colouring their sheets of paper, most of them trying to fit right inside the lines. He has handed out a colouring picture fragmented in small squares that must be filled with a different colour, according to the result of a simple calculation the children must resolve.
He slowly walks about the room, helping a pupil here and there when they need it. He also stops a young girl from eating her rubber — that is a major part of his job, which he had not anticipated before becoming a teacher.
He stays for a few minutes with a boy who struggles with a calculation, trying to explain to him again how substractions work by showing him on his hands. The boy finally gets the answer and takes his pink pencil — the colour which corresponds to the number eight. "Hwanwoong-ssi," the boy says with a smile, "this square is the colour of your hair!"
"Then it's the most beautiful square, isn't it?"
The boy lifts his hand and Hwanwoong lets him touch his dyed hair. "I asked mom if I could get hair like you. She said when I'm old as you I can. But it's going to take ages, Hwanwoong-ssi is so old."
His teacher laughs heartily, pets the boy's head, and continues to roam around the room. He spots Son Sunyul among the other six-year-old children. The boy is at his usual seat, far back in the room, his legs crossed and resting on the chair. He is absorbed by his task, oblivious at everything happening around him, like some other pupils chatting next to him or his teacher staring at him pensively.
Sunyul is more often than not alone, as Hwanwoong has noted. He does not play with other children at recess; he remains on a bench, daydreaming, and does not run around or screech. Then again, the other pupils do not invite him to play and leave him in his little bubble.
Hwanwoong does not think Sunyul minds. He is a solitary child — and he cannot help but think he may be taking after his father, that is Mr. Kim. And all the problems he must be facing with his separated parents do not help. If Hwanwoong were to decipher the situation, he would say the boy is not quite happy.
He can see Sunyul's anguish on his face when anything happens with one of his fathers after school; the day when Mr. Kim was late has terrorised him, but Mr. Son's scene has distressed him even more, as the teacher has gathered.
"Give it back," Hwanwoong hears a child's sharp voice order. This brings him back down on earth and he sees Sunyul frown at the little girl who is sitting in front of him. "I said, give it back!"
Sunyul is reaching out to Minbyeol, a usually calm yet bubbly pupil, who is turned towards the boy, holding a yellow pencil in her hand. She seems surprised at Sunyul's tone. "It's just for one minute," she explains. "I don't have that colour."
But Sunyul starts panicking, wriggling his fingers to try to take the pencil, and shrieks, "It's mine, all mine! Give it back, you stupid, irresponsible twerp!"
Hwanwoong, quite shocked by the child's bold language, finally reaches their corner of the room and interrupts them softly, "Hey, hey, what's going on here? Stop this."
Sunyul looks up at him with teary eyes and points an accusatory finger at the girl, "It's her fault! She took my pencils. I didn't give no parmission!"
Hwanwoong gestures for Minbyeol to give him the yellow pencil which she obediently does. "Now, Sunnie, is this a reason to be mean? What you said to Minbyeol-ah was very bad, do you know that?"
Sunyul's gaze stays fixed on Hwanwoong's hand, which holds the pencil, and he sniffles loudly before shrugging. "I don't want to hear you say those things to anyone, understood?"
Sunyul does not react. His teacher sighs slightly and gives him the pencil back, while saying, "Will you please come with me for a moment, Sunyul-ah? You need to calm down."
The boy snatches the pencil greedily and gets up, following the teacher with the pencil in his hand. Hwanwoong pets Minbyeol's tied hair and whispers, "You alright? Ask for your neighbour's pencil, okay?" The little girl seems unbothered, and simply nods.
Hwanwoong leads the boy to his desk, far from the other working pupils. He lets Sunyul sit on a near-by stool. He is fiddling with his yellow pencil, lost in his thoughts and still sniffling. Sunyul accepts a tissue from his teacher, who asks softly, "Feeling better?"
"Yeah."
Hwanwoong gauges the boy's sad expression and continues, "Do you know why you yelled at Minbyeol-ah?"
Sunyul shrugs again. "It was my pencil."
"It's true. But it's no reason to say bad words. It is not acceptable." He wonders where the boy has even heard those words. And he thinks again of his family situation; of course one of his fathers will have let them slip. "You may have hurt Minbyeol's feelings. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"This is serious. You will need to apologise to her. Alright?"
"Alright." Sunyul frowns a little. "Hwanwoong-ssi? Does that mean she gets to have my pencils?"
"You can share your things with other kids, can't you?"
Sunyul stays silent; he seems to be thinking intently. "I guess I can. But not the yellow pencil." He lifts it up to show it to his teacher. "That's my favourite one. Yellow is my favourite colour." He adds in a lower voice, "Both appa and daddy have yellow hair."
Hwanwoong suddenly understands and sighs with pity. This boy's life is more complicated than it seems, and his family arrangements are not as smooth and stable as he had imagined. He fears his fathers only nurture the boy's doubts and anxieties instead of reassuring them.
"You can keep the yellow one, then..." His voice trails off. The teacher throws a glance towards the class, who is working without much agitation, and turns back to Sunyul. "Hey, Sunnie," he asks casually, "everything okay with your dads?"
Sunyul is a little perplex, but slowly opens up. "Appa is picking me up tonight. We'll read Anpanman's Adventures because they're my favourite book. He said I get to choose whatever food I like and he can make it. Because it's my special night — it's my first day of the week with him."
He stops for a moment. "Last week, daddy and Uncle Dongmyeong took me to a museum workshop. I got to go to Busan! It was a long car trip to go there. But I didn't fall asleep. I made the best drawing of the museum. They said they could almost display it as art."
The boy seems happy to relive those memories, and Hwanwoong cannot detect any distressing experience. He reckons the boy must be mostly alright. "How lucky!" He adds in a more serious tone, "Sunnie, I'll have to speak to your fathers about what you did. It doesn't mean you're in trouble, okay? But I don't want you to do it again."
The boy nods and it feels as though he were a bit ashamed. Hwanwoong softens and says, more joyfully, while rising from his desk, "Shall we go to Minbyeol-ah?"
Sunyul nods energetically and they walk up to his seat, stopping at his classmate's first. Hwanwoong encourages the boy with a small gesture. "Hum, Minbyeol-ah?" The little girl looks up and smiles. "Sorry."
Their teacher intervenes, trying to have him elaborate, "Sorry for...?"
Sunyul takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry for calling you a bad name."
Minbyeol smiles — a few teeth are missing here and there — and answers in a high-pitched voice, "It's okay. Sometimes, my dad says 'Shoot' too."
Hwanwoong chuckles, ruffles Sunyul's black hair, and lets him seat back. He asks the two children if they have any trouble with the exercise; but Minbyeol is already done, doodling on the margins of the sheet of paper, and only a few squares are left on Sunyul's.
After a few minutes, and after helping one or two pupils with their work, the teacher collects the class's drawings and asks them to express their difficulties with the exercise, and to talk about their favourite colour. He expects Sunyul to share his, but he stays silent, yet carefully listening to his other classmates.
At the end of the class, the pink-haired man calls for the children's attention, "Okay, everyone! I hope you had fun today. No need to take your coloured pencils tomorrow, we'll be only using our little brains to do some calculations! How exciting!"
He pauses as the class applauds with big gummy smiles. "Now, remember that in one week, it's Mother's Day! We will be celebrating with a wonderful mother-and-child event at the school, and you all get to invite your mom! Please bring costumes for you and your mothers, I want to see you all beautifully dressed for the occasion."
The class applauds one again with little excited cries, and the children leave one by one. The teacher's gaze eventually falls on Sunyul, who is looking perplexed as he gathers his belongings. And then it hits Hwanwoong — Sunyul does not have a mother.