Read Just Twilight Novel Translation Chapter 12
(Just Dawn | 그저 여명일 뿐 )
Romance, Drama, Slice-of-life, Josei, Mature
Original: Woo Jihye | Translation: Genie
I’m… not that close with Na Seungwoon.”
This was the first time something like this had happened, and hearing that Seungwoon had been talking about her left Junyoung utterly flustered. Before Seungwoon, who looked a bit disappointed, could say anything, his mother spoke up.
“What do you like to eat? I’m not much of a cook, but thankfully, there’s someone at home who’s good with their hands. I’m sure they can make something to suit your taste.”
“No, I…”
“How about 12:30? If you come near the vicinity of the Mideum Church, you’ll see our house. If it’s far, shall I send a car to pick you up?”
The car she mentioned wouldn’t be the kind you drink, that was for sure. Hastily, Junyoung shook her head.
“No, that won’t be necessary.”
“Then, I’ll see you on Saturday at 12:30.”
With a soft smile, the woman patted her son’s shoulder a couple of times and walked off with the confident click of her heels. Junyoung let out a short sigh and turned to Seungwoon. He, now meeting her gaze, offered an awkward smile with a stiff expression.
“Sorry. My mom is, uh, a bit… ‘my pace.’”
No, that can’t be called ‘my pace.’ A ‘my pace’ person does what they want, but your mother doesn’t just act as she pleases—she shapes situations to her will.
Junyoung took a deep breath and lowered her voice to whisper softly.
“I can’t just go to your house for no reason. Please apologise to your mother on my behalf…”
“But she invited you,” Seungwoon said quickly, almost pleadingly.
She looked at him with a slightly surprised expression, and he awkwardly cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck.
“There is a reason, though.”
The shy expression on his face reminded her of what his mother had said earlier—that he had been talking about her incessantly.
Junyoung didn’t know exactly what it meant, but the fact that Seungwoon had been mentioning her at home was enough to make her feel her cheeks flush with heat.
“Then, I’ll see you on Saturday. I’ll wait for you in front of the church.”
Before she could even respond, Seungwoon blurted out his words and turned around, walking away. Junyoung raised her head, about to call after him, but stopped when she noticed a few students around them whispering and watching her.
This is a disaster.
She could already imagine them running off to tell their friends in excitement. The rumour would spread in no time. Oh Hyesoo would definitely find out, and even though he seemed like he was always asleep, Kwon Beomjin probably wouldn’t miss it either…
No, whether Kwon Beomjin knows or not isn’t something I should care about. I was already thinking about studying at that place over the weekend, but since he’ll probably show up there too, it might be better not to go.
I’m not ready to face him yet.
With tangled thoughts clouding her mind, Junyoung let out a long sigh that seemed to sink into the ground. She also couldn’t shake the feeling that the woman’s invitation had something to do with her casual mention of the gymnasium. A headache was starting to creep in.
* * *
“Did you hear? Seungwoon’s mom invited Yoon Junyoung to their house.”
“Kyunghee said she heard it directly? What’s going on?”
“Why? Why would she invite her?”
“Kyunghee didn’t catch all the details, but according to her…”
Though they seemed to be whispering among themselves, Beomjin had excellent hearing. In fact, even his father had marvelled at how sharp his sight and hearing had been since childhood.
Even if he had truly been asleep, the commotion would have woken him. Lying still with his eyes closed, it was as if a surround sound system had been blaring in his ears.
Clicking his tongue briefly, Beomjin sat up. Silence rippled outward from him as if he were the centre of a stone dropped into a still pond. Ruffling his messy hair, Beomjin frowned when his hand brushed over a wound he’d gotten yesterday.
Considering how hard Junyoung’s mom’s slap had been, it might be better to avoid giving Junyoung any reason to swing at him in the future. She did have a bit of a temper.
As he absentmindedly rubbed his temple, his gaze followed the retreating figure that had just passed by. He didn’t need to see her face to know who it was. After all, only one person in this school, let alone their class, wore a neatly pressed sky-blue polo shirt.
So, Na Seungwoon’s mom invited Yoon Junyoung to her house? Why? And why had his mom even come to the school in the first place?
Beomjin could have easily pulled someone aside and coaxed the details out of them, but he chose not to. Drawing unnecessary attention wasn’t his style.
A short wait later, he heard familiar footsteps. For a moment, it seemed like the person paused behind him, but they eventually walked past without stopping. The swaying ponytail entered his view. Sitting at her desk, Junyoung immediately picked up her pen.
Beomjin liked watching her when she was deeply focused on studying. The atmosphere around her at those moments felt special.
Everything would grow quiet, as though the world were calming down, with an air of serenity descending. Amidst it all, Junyoung’s pen would dart irregularly, sketching lines across her notebook, accompanied by the faint sounds of her writing.
It wasn’t hard for Beomjin to notice that she wasn’t fully focused today. Her slender shoulders were slightly hunched, and her movements were restless.
The pen in her hand repeatedly scratched at her forehead or the edges of her ears while her other hand fidgeted with the edge of her desk or her clothes.
Smiling to himself, Beomjin lazily rested his chin on his hand. His favourite movie was Beginning.
Yoon Junyoung was special. She was the only person who made him feel less alone.
Living a life where hiding was the only option was stifling beyond imagination. The uncertainty of when it would end made it even worse. Amid the suffocating monotony, Junyoung had become his one source of intrigue.
In this town, Junyoung was more well-known than she realised. It wasn’t a place where everyone knew everyone else’s business, but small towns had their ways of keeping tabs. Yet Junyoung’s family was uniquely isolated as if they intentionally remained strangers to the community.
That was the adults’ perspective, of course. At school, things were simpler. She was pretty, smart, and stood out. Yet she didn’t have a single close friend. Those who had approached her out of curiosity were swiftly turned away. She seemed to prefer being on an isolated island.
Junyoung bore some responsibility for this. Her sharp eyes and cold demeanour often made people feel dismissed, whether or not it was intentional.
Had she been a bit more tactful, she might have had a following instead of enemies. But as their math teacher had once said, it seemed Junyoung had no interest in forming relationships here.
She probably saw everyone around her as people she’d never encounter again once she left this place. Just temporary figures from a world different from her own.
Most assumed that, like many others in the area, her main issue was poverty. Few imagined she carried heavier burdens. After all, she never showed it.
Junyoung was often the topic of gossip, much like Beomjin himself, but he’d never harboured any particular interest in her. Sitting behind her in class and idly observing her small frame, he found it more curious than anything else.
No matter how many times he dozed off or woke up, her posture remained the same: straight-backed, diligently moving her pen. It was almost… fascinating.
Does she really enjoy studying that much? Could it actually be fun? Or maybe… it’s her lifeline.
Beomjin learned quite a bit just from watching her back. One of the things he noticed was how often her gaze would wander toward Na Seungwoon.
It was… disappointing, in a way. To think she might be like the other girls, swooning over the prince of the school. Yet her cold indifference toward Seungwoon’s friendliness always brought a wry smile to his lips.
And that was it.
Until the day he woke up and found her familiar figure in his hideout.
Remembering Junyoung’s startled expression when she first spotted him never failed to amuse him. Her usually composed features had contorted in shock, almost as if they might fall apart entirely.
Despite being visibly tense, her eyes hadn’t backed down, which he found impressive. When she quickly regained her composure and began confidently talking back, her pale face seemed to shine even brighter.
Ordinarily, Beomjin would have thrown anyone out immediately, regardless of why they were there. He valued his space, and sharing it with others was a hassle.
But he hadn’t felt that way about Junyoung. Watching her was enjoyable, and he had no reason to pass up the chance for more of it.
Their secret connection made things even more intriguing. In that abandoned house with Junyoung, he felt like an ordinary high school student. For once, he didn’t have to play his usual role.
But now, how am I supposed to handle this?
Resting his chin on his hand, Beomjin tilted his head thoughtfully.
It would’ve been easier if this were all his fault. The real challenge was when no one was at fault—like now.
Having Junyoung avoid him like this bothered him. But knowing she was likely trying to hide her vulnerability made it difficult to act impulsively.
Junyoung, who had refused to go home even with a fever. Junyoung, who had shielded her small head from violence with practised movements. Junyoung, who had yelled at her mother with gritted teeth before running away.
For someone with pride as strong as hers, she must be desperate to avoid me.
“Why did I have to be the one to see it?” he muttered, clenching his teeth.
The boy sitting in front of him flinched at his low voice and glanced back nervously. Beomjin ignored him and continued staring at Junyoung’s back.
That kind of shame doesn’t even qualify as embarrassing.
After all, it’s not our fault we were born to such messed-up parents.
Beomjin’s sharp eyes narrowed slightly, prompting the boy in front of him to scoot his chair forward in a panic. His stomach pressed uncomfortably against the desk, but putting even a millimetre more distance between himself and Beomjin seemed worth it.
The irregular tapping of Beomjin’s fingers on the desk sounded like thunder. Cold sweat trickled down the boy’s back.
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