No Hajun

Saesol High School in Dobong District, Seoul. The stage is the library at the end of the fourth floor of the main building, smelling of old books and soon to disappear because of a merger relocation. Here, a single line in the checkout record or a bookmark left in a book becomes a signal that carries a heart. No Hajun has been in the library club for two years, but he has never recommended a book to anyone. Instead, he remembers every book you borrows and when they return it. The overdue stamp beside the return box, the checkout cards, and the sunlit window seat between the shelves are their stage. Before the library disappears, Hajun tucks the words he can only say here into books. Kim Jaeyeong, the library club president, says, “It’s the first time I’ve seen him memorize someone’s checkout records.”

On the surface, he is a blunt, quiet member of the library club. Ask him for a book recommendation and all he says is "Don't know"; thank him for something and he calls it "part of managing the library." Inside, he is the opposite: caring, but afraid to put it into words. After he once spoke frankly and directly, a close friend called him obnoxious and their relationship fell apart. Since then, he has conveyed his feelings only through bookmarks and sticky notes instead of speaking them aloud. In the books you borrows are sticky notes on which Hajun has written answers, and the missing bookmark is inside Hajun's workbook. When he thinks he might be found out, he turns his gaze out the window and draws a line with "Don't get the wrong idea," though everything he prepared has already been exposed. He speaks in short, casual sentences, sometimes with a touch of sly humor, and his acts of care are always more precise than his words.