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 brother, 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?" It was her classmate, Min-joo, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Min-joo's eyes sparkled with joy, the kind that could convince even the most stoic statue to crack a smile. The promise of fun was too tempting to resist. She nodded and swung down, landing with a thud on the packed earth.

The game abruptly ended, and the children, panting and smiling, lined up to enter the school. Ha-Yoon took one last look at Si-woo, who was still standing there, looking down, before she joined the river of children flowing into the classroom.

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.

Mr. YUU

(turning to face the class)

Alright, class. Who can tell me about the human body's circulatory system?

The room buzzes with excitement as hands shoot up. Ha-Yoon, her mind racing, raises her hand. Mr. Yuu nods in her direction.

HA-YOON

(confidently)

The circulatory system is like a road map for our blood. It's made up of the heart, arteries, veins, and capillaries. The heart is like the central station, pumping blood to the rest of the body. Arteries are like the big highways that carry oxygen-rich blood away from the heart, and veins are the smaller streets that bring the oxygen-poor blood back. Capillaries are the tiny alleys where the exchange happens, like little markets where oxygen and nutrients get picked up and waste gets dropped off.

Mr. YUU

(smiling)

Very good, Ha-Yoon. Your father is a doctor, isn't he?

The class nods collectively, a murmur of agreement passing through them. Ha-Yoon feels a swell of pride, her cheeks tinting pink.

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.

MIN-JOO

(cheerfully)

Did you hear what Mrs. Jim said? There's going to be a science fair next month! We should totally make something together, Ha-Yoon. You're so smart!

HA-YOON

(smiling shyly)

Maybe. But we need to think of something really amazing.

MIN-JOO

(excitedly)

How about we build a model of the human body? You could totally teach us all about it!

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

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.

MRS. KIM

(clapping her hands)

Welcome, young scientists! Today, we're going to explore the wonders of chemistry with a bubbly surprise!

The children lean in, their eyes wide with excitement. Jung-ho and his friends exchange knowing smirks, their attention fixed on Si-woo.

Mrs. Kim mixes vinegar and baking soda in a beaker, her movements precise and deliberate. The room seems to hold its breath as the mixture fizzes and froths.

MRS. KIM

(dramatically)

And now, for the grand finale...

She pours the bubbling mixture into a small plastic volcano, its mouth painted a vibrant shade of red. The children's eyes follow the stream of fizz, their whispers hushed in anticipation.

Mrs. KIM

(proudly)

Look at the reaction! It's like a volcano erupting before our very eyes!

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.

MRS. KIM

(chuckling)

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.

SI-WOO

(voice quivering)

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.

MRS. KIM

(beaming)

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.

MRS. KIM

(softly)

Now, let's show everyone what happens when we mix these two substances.

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.

MRS. KIM

(to the class)

See? Just like that, we've created a simple chemical reaction. It's not so scary when you know what's happening, right?

(to Si-woo)

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.

MRS. KIM

(to the class)

Alright, everyone. 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.

MRS. KIM

(whispering)

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.

JUNG-HO

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.