Monday morning began with a missing sketchbook.
Daewon noticed it three minutes before the first bell.
He had opened his bag to take out his mathematics book when he realized the new secondhand sketchbook wasn't there.
He checked again.
Then again.
He emptied half his bag onto his desk.
Pencils.
Eraser.
Ruler.
Notebook.
Textbook.
A crumpled receipt.
Two candy wrappers.
Nothing.
His expression slowly changed.
Dami had once told him that when he looked for something, he became frighteningly serious.
She was right.
Daewon checked under his desk.
Nothing.
He checked his locker.
Nothing.
Then he remembered.
The park.
He had left the sketchbook on the bench.
He stood up immediately.
"Where are you going?"
Aera had just entered the classroom.
"I forgot something."
"What?"
"My sketchbook."
She looked at his empty desk.
"The new one?"
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"At the park."
Aera stared at him.
"You left it there?"
"I think so."
"You're supposed to be the careful one."
"I know."
"You're always telling me to protect my camera."
"I know."
"Then—"
"I know."
She stopped.
Then smiled.
"Let's go after school."
Daewon sighed.
"If it's still there."
"It will be."
"How do you know?"
"Because whoever found it probably opened it."
Daewon looked worried.
"That's worse."
Aera laughed.
The morning passed painfully slowly.
Daewon kept thinking about the sketchbook.
He had barely drawn anything in it, but the first page contained the strange sentence left by its previous owner.
I wanted to remember this place.
He didn't know why that sentence bothered him.
Perhaps because the sketchbook felt like something that had been abandoned halfway through a thought.
Perhaps because he had bought it precisely because of that.
Or perhaps because he had already begun imagining what he would fill the pages with.
By lunch, he couldn't stand it anymore.
Aera placed a carton of milk on his desk.
"You look like you're about to fight someone."
"My sketchbook."
"Still thinking about it?"
"Yes."
"Eat."
"I don't feel like eating."
She pushed the carton closer.
"Eat."
He looked at her.
"You're bossy."
"You need food."
He opened it.
"Happy?"
"Very."
She sat beside him.
For a while they ate quietly.
Then Aera said, "What if someone found it?"
Daewon looked at her.
"Then I hope they didn't read it."
"Why?"
"Because there are drawings of you."
Aera paused.
"How many?"
"Not many."
"How many?"
Daewon looked away.
"That's not important."
Aera smiled.
"Now I definitely want to know."
"You won't."
"I'll count them."
"Absolutely not."
She laughed.
The anxiety disappeared for a moment.
Then the bell rang.
After school, they walked to the park.
The weather had changed.
The sky was cloudy again, and the wind was colder than it had been on Saturday.
Daewon walked faster.
Aera followed.
"Slow down."
"My sketchbook."
"You're going to pass out before you find it."
He stopped.
"Sorry."
She caught up.
"You're really worried."
"Yeah."
Aera looked at him.
"You could always buy another one."
Daewon shook his head.
"It's not the same."
She understood.
He wasn't talking about the sketchbook itself.
They reached the park.
Daewon immediately looked toward the tree.
The bench was empty.
His heart dropped.
"It's gone."
Aera walked over.
She looked beneath the bench.
Nothing.
Then she checked the other side.
Still nothing.
Daewon stood there silently.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Aera noticed something.
"Daewon."
"What?"
"Look."
She pointed toward the park office.
A small handwritten sign was taped to the window.
FOUND ITEM _ SKETCHBOOK
Daewon stared.
Then ran.
The old park caretaker looked up as he entered.
"Are you looking for this?"
He held up the sketchbook.
Daewon's shoulders dropped in relief.
"Yes."
The man handed it over.
"You left it on the bench."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize."
The caretaker smiled.
"I almost threw it into the lost-and-found box, but I saw your drawings."
Daewon froze.
"You looked inside?"
"Only the first few pages."
Daewon glanced at Aera.
She was trying not to laugh.
The caretaker continued.
"You're pretty good."
Daewon scratched his cheek.
"Thank you."
The man handed him the sketchbook.
"Keep drawing."
Daewon nodded.
"I will."
They left the office.
The moment they stepped outside, Aera burst out laughing.
"You said you hoped nobody read it."
"I know."
"The caretaker saw it."
"I know."
"Your secret drawings."
"I know."
She laughed harder.
Daewon looked at her.
"You're enjoying this."
"A little."
He shook his head.
Then he opened the sketchbook.
Everything was still there.
The sentence.
His unfinished drawing of the bookstore.
The sketch of Aera beneath the tree.
The park.
The bakery.
The old street.
Nothing had been damaged.
He exhaled.
Aera looked at him.
"Happy?"
"Very."
They sat on the same bench where he had left it.
Daewon opened to a blank page.
Aera watched.
"What are you drawing?"
"I don't know yet."
He held the pencil above the page.
Then he began.
Aera waited.
The first lines were slow.
A bench.
A tree.
The park office.
A small sign.
Then a person standing beside him.
He drew her without looking up.
After a few minutes, Aera said, "You're drawing me again."
"Yes."
"You're obsessed."
"Maybe."
She leaned closer.
The drawing was simple.
Nothing dramatic.
Aera standing beside the bench.
Her camera hanging from one shoulder.
One hand tucked into her coat pocket.
Her hair moving slightly in the wind.
Daewon stopped.
He looked at the drawing.
Then at her.
"Something's missing."
"What?"
He erased part of the page.
Aera watched.
He drew the camera strap again.
Then the edge of her sleeve.
Then a tiny line near her hand.
"What was missing?"
"You were holding something."
"What?"
He smiled.
"The sketchbook."
She looked at him.
Then understood.
"You're putting yourself in the drawing."
"Yeah."
Aera became quiet.
For most of his drawings, Daewon had been the observer.
He drew what he saw.
He drew people without putting himself inside the scene.
But this time, he had drawn the moment as if he were standing there too.
Aera touched the edge of the page.
"I like it."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
She took out her camera.
Daewon immediately said, "Don't."
She smiled.
"Why?"
"Because you're going to take a picture."
"Of course."
He laughed.
She raised the camera.
Then stopped.
"Actually..."
She lowered it.
"What?"
"I don't want to."
Daewon looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because this one belongs in your sketchbook."
He smiled.
"That's fair."
On the way back, they stopped at the bookstore.
The elderly owner recognized Daewon.
"You found your sketchbook."
"Yes."
"Good."
The man looked at Aera.
"And this must be the girl."
Daewon nearly walked into a shelf.
Aera blinked.
"The girl?"
The old man smiled.
"The one he drew."
Daewon looked horrified.
Aera turned toward him slowly.
"You told him about me?"
"I didn't."
The old man laughed.
"I saw the drawing."
Aera smiled.
"I see."
Daewon wanted the floor to open.
The old man returned to his book.
"Young people."
Aera leaned toward Daewon.
"He's funny."
"He's dangerous."
They walked deeper into the store.
This time, Aera found something.
An old photo album.
She picked it up.
Inside were photographs of Haneul-dong from decades earlier.
The streets looked completely different.
The buildings were shorter.
The roads narrower.
There were fewer cars.
But some places remained recognizable.
The old bakery.
The river path.
The hill near the school.
Aera turned the pages slowly.
"Look."
Daewon leaned closer.
One photograph showed the same neighborhood street they walked through almost every week.
Except it was almost empty.
Aera stared.
"It feels strange."
"What?"
"Seeing a place before we knew it."
Daewon looked at the photograph.
"Maybe someone who lived here back then thought this street was ordinary too."
Aera nodded.
"And now we're looking at it like history."
The old bookstore owner called from the counter.
"That's how everything becomes history."
Aera looked toward him.
He smiled.
"Wait long enough."
Daewon looked at the old photograph again.
Then at the sketchbook under his arm.
He suddenly understood something.
Maybe the purpose of keeping things wasn't to stop them from changing.
Maybe it was simply to leave behind proof that they had once been real.
Outside, evening had arrived.
The streetlights turned on one by one.
Aera walked beside him.
"Daewon."
"Hm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"What do you want to put on the first page of your new sketchbook?"
He thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
"I don't know yet."
She smiled.
"Good."
"Why?"
"Because if you already knew, you might spend the whole time trying to reach it."
Daewon looked at her.
"What would you put on the first page of yours?"
Aera touched her camera.
"Maybe nothing."
"Why?"
"Because I want the first page to stay empty for a while."
"That's unlike you."
"I know."
She looked toward the darkening sky.
"Maybe some pages need to wait for the right memory."
Daewon nodded.
They kept walking.
The sketchbook was safe beneath his arm.
The camera was safe in Aera's bag.
And between them was a day neither of them had planned.
A day that almost disappeared.
A day they nearly forgot.
But now it had a place.
One page.
One photograph that wasn't taken.
One memory that existed simply because they had been there together.