Chapter 4 : Unclaimed Fire
1433 Words
He kept his eyes on the book, but the words were beginning to blur.
Behind him, two girls were whispering just loud enough to be heard. “Eunji was never into him. I don’t get why everyone acts like he’s so amazing,” one said with a sigh.
“I know, right? Totally overrated.” The other girl clicked her pen against the desk. “Ugh. I hate school drama. There’s not a single cute or well-behaved guy in this place. Our lives are painfully boring.”
A few other students laughed under their breath. Rheon didn’t react.He turned the page, though he hadn’t finished reading the last paragraph.
Same class. Same noise. Same people.
The cafeteria buzzed with the usual midday noise.Trays clattering, laughter bouncing off walls, sneakers squeaking across the floor.
Rheon stood in the food line, shifting nervously from foot to foot. His hands were sweating. His eyes darted to the side, where that same tall boy from earlier was already causing trouble again. Louder this time, more aggressive.
He prayed he wouldn’t be noticed. Just get your food. Don’t look. Don’t get involved.
He grabbed a tray, took what he needed. Rice , soup, kimchi, and a small bottle of yogurt drink and walked quickly across the room. He picked a seat in the farthest corner he could find, beside the wall where no one would bother him.
Then it started. The crash of a tray. A shove. “Yaa! Did you ask for her number yesterday?”
Everyone turned.
“You know she’s mine, right?”
The tall boy shoved the student again. Chairs scraped. A few students laughed, others just watched like it was routine. The other boy’s jaw clenched as if he was about to fight back.
But just before his fist lifted, a voice cut through the noise.
“Stop it.”
It was firm. Not loud, but sharp enough to silence the cafeteria.
Heads turned. Whispers spread like wildfire.
“Eunji’s here.”
She stepped forward from the crowd, arms crossed, eyes locked on the tall boy. Her presence drew attention without even trying. Eunji was the kind of girl people noticed.
Shoulder-length dark hair, slightly curled at the ends, pinned back with a simple clip. Her skin was fair, her lips tinted with soft pink. Her uniform looked the same as everyone else’s, but she wore it like it belonged on a magazine cover. Clean, crisp, effortless.
But it wasn’t just her looks. It was the way she walked — calm, confident, like she was never afraid to stand alone.
“No wonder everyone’s chasing her,” someone whispered nearby.
She reached them in seconds, her expression tight with frustration. “Don’t fight in school. What are you, ten?”
The tall boy tried to smile, to act unbothered. “It’s just a joke, Eunji.”
Eunji narrowed her eyes. “Your jokes are exhausting.”
Rheon watched from across the cafeteria, quietly chewing his rice, hoping no one noticed how fast his heart was beating.
He didn’t know her personally. But somehow, her voice made him feel like she’d spoken directly to him.
Just as the tension thickened again, the cafeteria doors slammed open.
A teacher stormed in. “What’s going on here?”
The tall boy immediately stepped back, rubbing the back of his neck. The crowd scattered slightly, returning to their seats like nothing had happened.
“Get back to your tables. All of you. Anyone who keeps acting like this will be cleaning bathrooms after school,” the teacher barked.
With a few mumbled apologies and nervous laughter, the room slowly returned to its usual chaos. Trays clattered. Chairs creaked. Conversations picked back up like the interruption never happened.
Eunji gave one last look toward the boy who had been shoved, her expression softening. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away.
But as she passed through the rows of tables, her eyes briefly stopped on one in the far corner.
Seo Rheon.
She looked at him. Just for a second. Not with suspicion. Not curiosity. But something quieter. Like recognition.
Rheon felt it. His spoon froze halfway to his mouth. A drop of sweat rolled down his cheek. He didn’t lift his head. He stared at his tray like it held all the answers he needed.
He wasn’t part of that drama. He didn’t want to be. He didn’t want her to look at him.
But she did. And in that quiet moment, when her steps moved on and the crowd swallowed her again…
Rheon exhaled slowly, hoping it would all go back to normal.
The sky was already turning gold by the time school ended.
Rheon walked the familiar path home, one hand gripping the strap of his backpack, the other tucked into his pocket. His footsteps were slow, steady, quiet .Just like him.
He kept his head low, glasses slipping down his nose again, eyes focused on the cracks in the pavement.
He mumbled to himself as he walked. “Is chasing a woman really supposed to need that much drama?”
He kicked a small pebble off the sidewalk. “Why does everything have to end in a fight?”
The breeze ruffled his hair slightly. The neighborhood was calm, birds resting on electrical wires, the faint sound of a distant motorcycle humming through the street.
He shook his head. “They act like it’s some war story… Just to get her attention?”
Rheon sighed. He wasn’t like them. He didn’t want chaos. He didn’t want to win anyone. He just wanted to go home, eat something warm, maybe read a book before bed. That was enough.
Just as he turned the corner near the bookstore, Rheon collided with something solid.
Hard.
He stumbled back a step, blinking in surprise. “I’m sorry— I’m sorry!” he said quickly, bowing without looking up.
The man he’d bumped into didn’t say a word.
Rheon glanced up for a second, only to find a tall figure in a black coat.Worn, frayed at the sleeves, with a hood pulled low over his head. The coat looked like it belonged to someone who had been wandering alleys for years.
But the man’s face didn’t match the rest of him. It was strangely clean. Flawless, almost too perfect for someone dressed like that. No scars, no blemishes. His skin looked smooth, ageless. His eyes were sharp, though unreadable.
He didn’t seem angry. Just… watching.
Before Rheon could apologize again, the man turned and walked off, disappearing into the narrow street without another word. That’s when Rheon noticed something on the ground.
A small, metallic object had fallen near his foot. He crouched and picked it up.
It looked like a lighter — but not like any he’d seen before.
The casing was matte black, shaped like an antique timepiece. Instead of a button, it had a smooth, circular dial etched with strange symbols around the edge. In the center was a small glass window that shimmered faintly, like there was something burning inside it… even though it was cold to the touch.
Rheon turned it in his hand. No brand. No instructions. Just a feeling. Something about it felt familiar.Like holding a piece of something he had forgotten long ago.
He looked back toward the alley.
But the man was gone.
He looked at the wooden bench beside the sidewalk — chipped paint, half in shade. Without thinking too much, he placed the lighter down on the edge of the seat.
“He’ll probably come back for it,” he mumbled. And then he walked off.
Five steps. Ten. He reached the corner, turning toward the alley that led to his street.
But his feet slowed. What if someone else saw it? What if they took it? What if it wasn’t meant for just anyone?
Rheon frowned, glancing over his shoulder. The bench was still there. So was the lighter.
He sighed and turned back.
“I’ll just keep it. In case he shows up again.”
Rheon slid the lighter into his pocket without pressing any part of it. No button. No dial. Nothing.
He didn’t want to see what it did. He didn’t want to be involved. He was just… holding onto it. That’s all.
Maybe the man would come looking for it. Maybe it was important. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be in anyone else’s hands.
Whatever it was, Rheon didn’t feel right leaving it out in the open. But he didn’t feel right keeping it either.
He’d wait.
That was enough for now.
- Writer
