<h4>Chapter 7: Chapter 7 – Self-introduction</h4>


    <strong>Trantor: </strong>– – <strong>Editor: </strong>– –


    Tranted by: ShawnSuh


    Edited by: SootyOwl


    Sun Hwa and Bom took out theirics, and Baron pulled out a book. Like members of the Literature Club, they were all reading something. Juho, sitting still, picked up one of theptions. It was ‘Volume 34,’ the most recent one.


    The publishing date on the book was eight years ago. Theption was titled ‘Memories.’ The letters, printed on a yellow background, reminded Juho of autumn, the season for books. The table of contents listed the names of the past members. Seeing how diverse the topics were, the club must have also been pretty flexible back then. Short stories, poems, essays, book report, letters to the iing members... Juho opened to the middle of the book.


    In slightly awkward sentences, the writer was talking about what the Literature Club meant to him, “The air is cold at school. We walk on the rigid marble floor. I look out through the metal beams. I have noints about things like that. It’s just that my feet would get unbearably cold at times. So, feeling like I was buying a pair of cheap socks from the street, I joined the Literature Club. When I tried on the pair of yellow socks, they were thicker and warmer than they had seemed.”


    “Yellow socks...”


    Maybe that was why the background was yellow.


    “Hm?”


    “There’s something written here.”


    “What does it say?”


    Seo Kwang took theption book from Juho’s hand. While he was reading, Juho picked up a differentption book. His eyes were caught on ‘Volume 1.’ Juho carefully opened the book, and, there were noticeably more names on the members’ list.


    That must have been the club’s prime. The book was titled ‘The Beginning.’ Like the title, it was the beginning of a tradition.


    Upon reading it, Juho learned that that book was closer to being an anthology. It was rather tasteful.


    “Look at this. The two teachers were dating back then.”


    “Seriously? Let me see.”


    That was a conversation between Seo Kwang and Sun Hwa. Soon, with the exception of Baron, there was aption in the hands of each club member. Baron didn’t take his eyes off of his book and paid no attention to all theption books.


    “Aren’t you going to read one, Baron?”


    “I’m good.”


    Juho had made the question, but what came back was Baron’s dry answer.


    “Who has Volume 1?”


    “Here!”


    “Did you finish it? Can I read it?”


    “Yeah.”


    Sun Hwa had asked as if she were reading aic book. As Bom put down ‘Volume 23’ after reading it, Juho picked it up. Surprisingly, the science room ghost story was in there. Though after reading it, it seemed to have failed to frighten the students. In addition, there was a serious study on the mannequin. At the very end, was a story of people putting themselves through courage test.


    “They went through a courage test.”


    “At night? Is that OK?”


    “They must have sneaked in, and it seems like they never got caught. Let’s hope that the principal hasn’t read this yet.”


    Seo Kwang interrupted as Juho was answering Sun Hwa’s question, “That sounds fun. Should we do it too?”


    “You won’t find anything at school at night other than the kids who are sticking around forte night study sessions.”


    “Where’s the romance? I swear...”


    Juho didn’t take Seo Kwang’sint seriously. Next, he picked up ‘Volume 17.’ Most of thepositions were written as reviews, and it gave Juho the impression that the trendy writing style at the time mimicked book reports. There were reports on various books, both famous and unfamiliar. There was a page with multiple reflections written by a several people after reading a book as a group. As Juho read on, he felt the urge to search for the same book. The brief synopsis aroused his interest. ‘Maybe I should stop by the bookstore after school,’ thought Juho.


    “This is actually pretty good,” Seo Kwang murmured.


    “I’m sure the iing students will be reading our writing too. I really want to do well,” Sun Hwa said.


    Bom gave a big nod. There was vigor in the three students’ eyes.


    “Reading this is making me want to wear yellow socks.”


    Sun Hwa added to Bom’s timid voice, “Let’s all get matching socks, all six of us, including the teacher.”


    Seo Kwang agreed, “We should have our club name on them too.”


    Juho replied with a unimpressed voice, “That sounds tacky just thinking about it.”


    —


    At home, Juho was lying in bed staring at his debut work sitting on the bookshelf. He thought of what Seo Kwang had said earlier. “You haven’t read it, haven’t you?”


    “Read it or not, I wrote it,” Juho quietly repeated the words that he couldn’t bring himself to say.


    Nobody was around to listen.


    Seo Kwang gave Juho book rmendations repeatedly after that day. When giving a rmendation, some sort of responsibility was bound to follow. There was an assessment on whether the rmendation met the other party’s tastes. That wasn’t just for the other person, but it was also for the one rmending the book. Did the one doing the rmendation introduce something that could be well-received? Was the rmendation to the person’s satisfaction?


    ording to his own assessment result, Seo Kwang excelled at rmending books.


    Every single one of his rmendations had been nothing but gems. By default, Juho read all books without discrimination, but just like everyone else, he did have authors or topics that he was particrly drawn to. Seo Kwang was impable when it came to picking out books that Juho might like.


    Juho had been quite satisfied with Seo Kwang’s rmendations, but there was one thing that he fell short on.


    Without fail, Seo Kwang always rmended ‘The Trace of a Bird.’


    Juho didn’t feel the same way toward his own writing as other people. Also, he didn’t really feel like reading it. He sat up after thinking about Seo Kwang and his tireless efforts.


    “Maybe I should check it out. It’s been a while.”


    Seo Kwang was a passionate fan after all, reading the book that left Juho dissatisfied. Writings existed to be read. An author didn’t exist without a reader.


    Juho picked up the book and opened it to a random page. It was the part when the protagonist “Yun” gets out of bed at night to go for a walk. Yun washed his face and changed his clothes in the dark. He could do nothing until his eyes had adjusted to theck of light.


    As Juho read on, he had one thought, ‘Just turn on the light, caveman.’


    Most of the book took ce at night. Juho had been strict about setting the character’s activities at night. He wanted Yun to be lonely.


    An empty cup was needed in order to fill it with water.


    All the existing characters had their own views of the ‘bird.’ They turned away, killed, neglected and searched for it. It sounded multifaceted, but all of those characters possessed one true color. Night dyed everything in darkness.


    After reading about five lines, Juho forcefully closed the book. Even at a glimpse, it was incredibly cringe-worthy and pretentious.


    “Why is this so popr anyway?”


    —


    “Hello,” Juho greeted Baron as he walked into the science room.


    Keeping his eyes on his book, Baron replied, “You don’t have to greet me every time.”


    His tone was dry. It wasn’t a consideration of an upperssman trying to make the underssman feel less burdened. It was like a line that had been drawn on the desk. ‘It’s my turf past this line. Don’t you dare cross it.’


    At that moment, that big, ck upperssman seemed a bit more innocent. It was the privilege of a child to tantly put up a wall.


    One could draw all the lines they wanted, but the reality of the world was that it was nearly impossible for one to own that solitarynd.


    “I’ll still say hi.”


    “...”


    Without a word, Baron redirected his attention to his book. There was approval in what he had done.


    “Everyone seems to be present,” Mr. Moon came inst without even bringing his attendance sheet.


    “I guess ditching isn’t an option,” Seo Kwang murmured.


    The small number of people was definitely not a plus.


    “Everyone brought something to write with and on?”


    “Yes, sir.”


    On a long desk, there were five notebooks. Sun Hwa had a matching notebook to Bom’s. They had to have bought it together.


    “Good. Technically, today’s the official first day. On the first day, I believe self-introduction to be a must.”


    Sun Hwa let out a short groan. She was direct when it came to expressing her feelings. Bom was sitting next to her, and she didn’t appear to be all that excited. Expressing themselves in front of a crowd while being the center of attention was a tall order for most Korean teenagers.


    “Could I have one persone out at a time?”


    “Mr. Moon, is this necessary? We got pretty closest time.”


    Everyone agreed with Sun Hwa.


    “Not with me.”


    Sun Hwa stopped talking, as if she had been stricken by her conscience to say that Mr.Moon was part of the circle. At that, like he knew all about it, Mr.Moon nodded.


    “This is because you guys don’t want to be in front of people, right? Then let’s do this. Since we’re a Literature Club, let’s all write them out?”


    “Oh! Yes, please!”


    It didn’t matter to Juho, but he did feel morefortable writing, so he quietly agreed. Since nobody had to stand at the front to introduce themselves, everyone took to their pens with pleasure.


    “How much do we write?”


    “However much you like.”


    “So, it’s OK if I write one line?” Seo Kwang asked yfully.


    Mr. Moon responded nonchntly, “If you can express yourself in one sentence, then be my guest.”


    “That sounds harder.”


    Seo Kwang didn’t say anything else and immersed himself in his thoughts, ‘How should I start? Probably best to start with my name.’


    He thought of the most generic self-introduction, ‘I am so and so. I’m so many years old. My hobby is reading and listening to music.’


    “This could be better.”


    Seo Kwang went back to the basics. A self-introduction, from its definition, was writing that introduced yourself to another person. Yourself to another person, maybe one could think in reverse and write about things that the other person might want to know about “yourself.”


    ‘What would Mr. Moon want to know about me? My grades? Maybe my writing skills since this is the Literature Club.’ By that point, Seo Kwang quietly asked himself, ‘Are you good at writing?’ There was only one answer: ‘I don’t know either.’


    Seo Kwang sighed. How could he introduce himself when he didn’t even know himself?


    “My ego hasn’t been fully formed.”


    “You went that far with the self-introduction?” Juho asked with a smile.


    Seo Kwang glimpsed at Juho’s note. It was nk, just like his own. How was he so calm?


    “I don’t know myself, so how can YOU know ME?”


    “I thought this was supposed to a self-introduction, but you seem like you’re more on the self-realization side. Good for you.”


    Seo Kwang exined his stream of consciousness to Juho, “What if you write ‘I know nothing about myself.’?”


    “I’d sound like a rebel.”


    “It’s true though.”


    “Hm,” Seo Kwang contemted it. He didn’t fully agree with Juho because he knew Juho wasn’t right.


    “I mean, I know something.”


    Juho shrugged his shoulder as if he weren’t seeing a problem.


    “Then you should write about what you do know.”


    “Ah!” Seo Kwang eximed. It felt like he had finally figured out where things had gone wrong. He decided to be honest. When he focused on what others might want to know about him, he couldn’t write a single word. ‘Juho, this guy, maybe he knew it all along.’


    Juho was resting his jaw on his hand, staring off into thin air. His page was still empty. Maybe he didn’t really know.


    “You put a lot of thought into this.”


    “What the... Why are you eavesdropping?”


    “It’s not like I’m not sitting right next to you. No wonder you can’t write anything. Draw a line so that somethinges out.”


    “Aha! So, that’s how you ended up with eraser dust everywhere. Can you stop blowing it on me?”


    There was about a third of a page worth of writing in Sun Hwa’s notebook. It was surrounded by eraser dust. When Seo Kwang tantly moved the dust away, Sun Hwa red at him. He wasn’t backing out either.


    “At least I wrote something, unlike somebody.”


    “Juho’s page is nk too, you know.”


    “Look to your side.”


    Seo Kwang looked to where Sun Hwa was pointing. In no time, his notebook had been filled about a third way.


    “What the, when did you write all that?”


    “When you were busy talking,” Juho responded as he kept moving his pen. Feeling a sense of urgency, Seo Kwang stopped his quarrel with Sun Hwa and started writing in a hurry.


    <Self-introduction> The End