The playground is a canvas of joy and youthful energy. Ha-Yoon, 6, sits atop the monkey bars, her legs swinging casually as she observes the scene below. The other children play, their laughter a gentle backdrop to the whispers of the breeze.

  The whispers of the other children reach her, their words about the mysterious towers piquing her interest. She's heard of these structures from her parents, their voices low and tinged with urgency. But she keeps her thoughts to herself, focusing instead on the rhythmic sway of the swings and the soft rustle of leaves.

  Today, as she sat high on the monkey bars, the world of the schoolyard laid out before her like a battlefield, she noticed the 9-year-old Si-woo's shoulders hunched, his books and lunchbox clutched tightly to his chest. The cruel jibes of the other children rained down upon him, a cacophony of words that stung like needles. Her heart tugged, a silent symphony of pity and anger. But she knew better than to interfere. Si-woo had his problems, and she had her studies.

  Besides, she had heard that Si-woo was strange, that he liked to bite things when anxious, and she didn't want to get involved with someone who was already marked as an outcast.

  As she was about to swing down from her perch, her thoughts still on Si-woo, a bouncy voice cut through the air. "“Hey, Ha-Yoon! Wanna play tag?”

  Min-Joo, her classmate, stood at the base of the monkey bars, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Her bright eyes sparkled, the promise of fun radiating from her like sunshine.

  Unable to resist, Ha-Yoon nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. She swung down gracefully, landing with a satisfying thud on the packed earth. The game began, and for a while, Ha-Yoon allowed herself to be swept up in the carefree joy of childhood, the weight of distant towers and the burden of others’ struggles forgotten.

  The classroom, a bastion of order amidst the chaos of playtime, is a sharp contrast to the schoolyard. Ha-Yoon's desk is at the front, her hands folded neatly on the surface as Mr. Yuu, a gentle giant of a man with a warm smile, writes on the chalkboard. The children, now seated, watch him with rapt attention.

  “Alright, class,” he began, his deep voice resonating through the room. “Who can tell me about the circulatory system?”

  Excited hands shot up, eager to answer. Ha-Yoon’s mind raced as she raised her hand confidently.

  “The circulatory system is like a road map for our blood,” she explained, her voice steady. “It’s made up of the heart, arteries, veins, and capillaries. The heart is the central station, pumping blood to the rest of the body.

  Arteries are like big highways that carry oxygen-rich blood away, veins are smaller streets bringing oxygen-poor blood back, and capillaries are tiny alleys where oxygen and nutrients are exchanged for waste.”

  Mr. Yuu’s smile widened with approval. “Very good, Ha-Yoon. Your father is a doctor, isn’t he?”

  A ripple of murmured agreement passed through the room as Ha-Yoon’s cheeks turned pink with pride.

  The cafeteria is a cacophony of clanking trays and chattering children. Ha-Yoon sits with her friends, her tray filled with a steaming bowl of rice and various side dishes. They discuss the morning's lesson, their voices a mix of excitement and curiosity.

  “Did you hear what Mrs. Jim said?” Min-Joo chirped, her voice full of excitement. “There’s going to be a science fair next month! We should totally do something together.”

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  “Maybe,” Ha-Yoon said, smiling shyly. “But it has to be something really amazing.”

  Min-Joo’s eyes lit up. “How about a model of the human body? You’re so smart—you could teach us all about it!”

  The group of friends giggles and nods, their eyes lighting up with excitement at the prospect.

  The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch and the start of the science assembly. The children, their laughter now a distant memory, file out of the cafeteria, their footsteps echoing down the hallways like a herd of tiny elephants.

  ...

  The children stream into the assembly hall, their voices a murmur of excitement. Si-woo lingers at the back, his lunchbox a silent companion amidst the sea of chatter. Jung-ho, the bully, stands with his group of friends, his eyes scanning the room for his next target.

  Mrs. Kim, the science teacher, stands at the front, her hands fluttering over a table laden with scientific paraphernalia. The room falls silent as the children settle onto the floor, cross-legged and eager.

  “Welcome, young scientists!” Mrs. Kim announced, clapping her hands. “Today, we’ll explore the wonders of chemistry with a bubbly surprise!”

  As the experiment unfolded—a classic vinegar and baking soda volcano—the children gasped with wonder. But Si-Woo barely noticed, his focus pulled to Jung-Ho and his gang, their mocking gazes pinned on him.

  The children gasped as the volcano spews a plume of foam into the air, the room erupting into applause. Si-woo's cheeks burn with a mix of embarrassment and anger as he notices Jung-ho's group still staring at him, their laughter a cruel echo in his ears.

  Mrs. Kim's eyes scan the room, her smile faltering as she sees Si-woo's plight. She quickly recovers, turning the attention back to the science at hand."Ah, it seems our little volcano has had enough for today. Now, who can tell me what happened here?"

  The room falls silent, all eyes on Si-woo. He takes a deep breath, the scent of sulfur lingering from the experiment mixing with the anticipation in the air."Vinegar is an acid, and baking soda is a base. When they mix, they cause a chemical reaction that produces carbon dioxide gas. That's what makes the bubbles and the foam."

  The room holds its breath, the only sound the faint hiss of the volcano's final gurgles. Mrs. Kim's eyes light up with understanding, and she nods encouragingly at Si-woo."That's right, Si-woo! You've been paying attention. Would you like to come up here and join me? Maybe you can help me with the next experiment."

  Si-woo's heart races as he looks up at Mrs. Kim, then over at Jung-ho, whose smug expression falters. With a deep breath, he stands and makes his way to the front, the lunchbox still clutched in his hand.

  Si-woo's legs feel like jelly as he approaches Mrs. Kim, but he refuses to let Jung-ho's mocking gaze break his stride. He stands beside her, the table between them a barricade of knowledge and courage. "Now, let's show everyone what happens when we mix these two substances." Mrs. Kim said.

  Si-woo's hands shake slightly as he carefully pours the vinegar into a jar filled with baking soda. The reaction is instant, the jar overflowing with a frothy, colorful concoction. The children ooh and aah, their faces a picture of wonder. "See?" Mrs. Kim said looking to the class, " Just like that, we've created a simple chemical reaction. It's not so scary when you know what's happening, right?" Turning to Si-Woo Mrs. Kim says "Good job, Si-woo. You have a natural talent for this."

  The room erupts in applause, the sound washing over Si-woo like a warm embrace. Jung-ho's smirk fades, replaced by a look of surprise and begrudging respect. "Alright, everyone." Mrs Kim breaths out, "Remember what you've learned today and maybe you'll find the bravery to face your own volcanos. Now, let's clean up and get back to class."

  The children begin to gather their things, the assembly coming to a close. Jung-ho and his friends watch Si-woo with a newfound wariness, their earlier malice now tinged with something else. As the room clears, Mrs. Kim gently places a hand on Si-woo's shoulder. "You did well up there. Don't let anyone ever make you feel small for being smart."

  Si-woo nods, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, and she gives him a comforting smile before walking away. He collects his lunchbox, feeling a strange mix of pride and dread in his chest.

  The corridor is almost empty as Si-woo makes his way back to class, the echo of his footsteps a lonely rhythm in the otherwise silent space.

  As he turns the corner, Jung-ho and his friends emerge from a nearby classroom, their eyes locking onto him like predators spotting prey. Jung-ho's smile is cold, his friends' grins wicked. "Look who thinks he's all that now."

  The group strides towards Si-woo, blocking his path. His heart sinks, the applause from the assembly hall now a distant memory.