Read Just Twilight Novel Translation Chapter 11

(Just Dawn | 그저 여명일 뿐 )

Romance, Drama, Slice-of-life, Josei, Mature

Original: Woo Jihye | Translation: Genie

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I want to transfer schools.

Junyoung set her pen down and squeezed her eyes shut. No, in truth, she wanted to disappear entirely.

Why did it have to be looking like that at that moment?

At school, Beomjin acted as if he didn’t know her, as usual. Of course, that could have been because she went out of her way to avoid him the moment she spotted him from a distance.

Still, just knowing he was sitting behind her during class made her want to sink into the floor and vanish.

When Junyoung returned home that day, she threw her bag aside and waited for her mother to come back. She braced herself for a second round, but this time, she wasn’t planning to simply endure it. The thought that her weakest point had been exposed to someone made her lose her mind. The humiliation and shame wouldn’t stop bringing tears to her eyes.

However, when her mother returned, she didn’t even glance at Junyoung standing rigidly in the room. Instead, she collapsed onto her spot and pulled a worn blanket over herself. Junyoung stared at her in disbelief, but soon, the sound of heavy snoring filled the space. After holding her breath for a couple of hours, ready to defend herself, nothing happened.

She was familiar with this kind of lull. Her mother would suddenly erupt and then suddenly quiet down again. All that lingered now was the awkwardness she felt toward Beomjin, which tormented her relentlessly.

Now I can’t even go to that house to study. And the exams are so close. Where am I supposed to study? How long do I have to keep avoiding Kwon Beomjin?

The last line of her rewritten reflection paper was a mess. No matter how polished the content, the handwriting alone would seem defiant. Still, she didn’t feel like rewriting it.

Letting out a deep sigh, Junyoung stood up but then froze in place. Her eyes landed on Beomjin, lying face down.

His once-clean jaw and neck were now marred with reddish bruises. His lips were cracked again, and the kids who saw him at school whispered that he must have been in a big fight yesterday.

It’s not like I can tell them it’s from being hit by my mom.

With the reflection paper in hand, Junyoung clenched her lips tightly. She couldn’t shake the memory of how he had rushed over and shielded her like a human barrier.

Even while her face stung from being struck, she distinctly remembered the feeling of his strong arms pulling her into a secure embrace, his chest brushing her nose as he shifted, and the warm scent of him wafting gently toward her.

“What are you grinning about? Get out of the way.”

The sharp voice made Junyoung turn her head. Hyesoo stood there, squinting at her with a crooked posture. Letting out a short sigh, Junyoung leaned toward her and drew her lips into the widest smile she could manage.

“Take a good look. If it’s not enough, let me know. I’ll smile some more.”

“Hey!”

Shaking her head, Junyoung ignored Hyesoo’s screech and left the classroom. The reflection paper fluttered in her hand.

…Was I smiling?

“I must be losing it. I laugh at the weirdest times because there’s nothing else to laugh about.”

Muttering to herself, she headed toward the teacher’s office. However, she stopped when she noticed a group of students gathered in a cluster, whispering and glancing around. The atmosphere was tense, almost foreboding.

Junyoung hesitated at the edge, unsure whether to approach. Then, she felt the weight of their eyes shift toward her.

Moments like these made her feel like she had some strange power. She’d just walked into their view, and already, the murmuring had died down.

With all eyes on her, it felt impossible to turn back. She knocked on the office door with a blank expression. Pushing it halfway open, she was greeted by a voice she’d never heard before.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant at all,” said the math teacher. His laughter, awkward and forced, sent chills down her spine.

As she stepped inside, Junyoung froze in place. The scene in the teacher’s office was deeply unsettling.
Inside the office stood a long sofa and table, where teachers often gathered for meetings. A few teachers stood around the area; their hands clasped politely in front of them as if they were being disciplined.

The unusual sight was in the centre of the circle they formed—a hunched-over homeroom teacher, the math teacher, the vice principal, and a woman.

For the first time in her life, Junyoung saw someone in person who seemed like they belonged on TV.

The woman’s shoulder-length hair gleamed with a lustre and was styled into smooth waves. She wore a clean-toned silk blouse tucked into dark navy slacks, nearly black, and a single-heeled shoe with a slender, tall heel resting on her crossed leg. The sleeves of her jacket, draped casually over her shoulders, swayed gently.

She looked like a celebrity. Everything about her appearance seemed meticulously calculated, exuding perfection. Yet it also felt like all this meticulousness came from someone else’s hand.

Junyoung instinctively knew who she was. When parents came to school, meetings were usually held in the counselling room. The fact that this woman was sitting confidently in the middle of the teacher’s office was proof enough of her identity.

Just then, Junyoung caught the eye of a teacher who turned toward her. She quickly took a step back.

“Oh, Junyoung.”

“Sorry, I’ll come back later.”

Junyoung didn’t want to attract anyone’s attention to that circle. But it was too late—her name had already been called. The elegant woman turned her head and spoke.

“Is that child by any chance…”

“Ah, yes! Hey, Yoon Junyoung, come here. Quickly.”

Like a dog wagging its tail, her homeroom teacher jumped up and motioned to her. Fixing her gaze on the woman, Junyoung walked over slowly. The homeroom teacher awkwardly patted her on the back with a forced laugh.

“This is the top student in our class, Yoon Junyoung. For a girl from a rural area, she’s got quite the brain.”

Junyoung’s posture, upright until then, stiffened as her brow furrowed. The woman smiled softly and nodded.

“I see. I heard she collapsed after being hit by a ball my Seungwoon threw.”

“Oh, that sort of thing happens all the time during PE. It’s just that this girl is a bit frail…”

The homeroom teacher was enthusiastically explaining until he realised the woman wasn’t listening to him. Her attention had shifted to Junyoung, silently demanding an answer. Junyoung opened her mouth.

“It was nothing.”

“Oh my, still, I feel the need to apologise. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

Junyoung only wanted to leave this scene as quickly as possible. Despite her curt reply, the woman’s smile didn’t waver. She lightly caressed the teacup in front of her as she spoke.

“Honestly, I don’t expect much from the school. I just want the children to attend in good health. That’s why I’m considering building a gymnasium for the school where my son once studied. This is also my hometown.”

The vice principal nodded deeply as if in agreement. Though the woman smiled, her smooth voice seemed to carry unseen, subtle blades.

“So I hope the teachers will be more forgiving regarding matters of health. My son never had to write something like a reflection paper when he was in Seoul, and seeing him struggle over such trivial matters breaks my heart. It’d be a shame if unnecessary worries like that interfered with his studies, wouldn’t it?”

The word *trivial* was clearly aimed at the math teacher, whose posture shrank even further.

The woman had a different kind of power from Junyoung. While Junyoung’s mere presence silenced others, the woman could summon silence at will. The fundamental difference, of course, lay in the attitudes of those who silenced themselves.

How…

How could someone be like that?

Junyoung couldn’t take her eyes off the woman. Her flawless, taut skin, impeccably manicured nails, elegant composure, and unyielding gaze—all of it resembled a king commanding her vassals.

Suddenly, the door swung open urgently, causing everyone to turn around. A familiar face—Prince Charming—rushed in, looking flustered.

“Mom!”

Seungwoon’s loud call softened when he noticed Junyoung standing there. His expression turned awkward, and he closed his mouth. The woman stood and smiled.

“I feel like I’ve taken up too much of the teachers’ time. Please, enjoy your dinner—think of it as a small token of appreciation.”

“Oh, of course, take care!”

The vice principal and other teachers quickly rose, bowing deeply. Following her out, Seungwoon trailed after his mother. Junyoung, staring blankly at their retreating figures, sighed as if waking from a dream. She handed her reflection paper to the math teacher, who had slumped onto the sofa.

“Sir.”

“Oh, just leave it there. Goodness, what a formidable woman.”

“Mr. Kim!”

The vice principal shot him a sharp glare. Feeling the weight of the teachers’ unease, Junyoung left the reflection paper behind and stepped out of the office.

Walking down the hall, she noticed two figures. Seungwoon was tugging on his mother’s jacket sleeve, seemingly pleading. When they saw Junyoung, Seungwoon closed his mouth, and his mother turned her gaze toward her.

“Is your name Yoon Junyoung?”

Junyoung, about to lower her head and pass by, stopped in her tracks. She turned back to see Seungwoon smiling awkwardly.

“Oh, um, Junyoung. This is my mom. She said she had business at the school.”

“What business would a parent have at school? They come because their child caused trouble.”

The woman let out a faint chuckle and folded her arms. Seungwoon pouted like a child. Watching them, Junyoung unexpectedly let out a sarcastic remark.

“Wasn’t it about the gymnasium?”

“The gymnasium?”

Seungwoon blinked and looked at his mother. The woman’s slender eyes curved slowly.

“Well, in the end, it’s all for my son.”

Her tone dropped slightly. While the woman smiled, her gaze had grown cold. Junyoung clenched the frayed sleeve of her shirt. She wondered if she had spoken out of turn.

“What’s this about a gymnasium? What happened?”

“I was curious about the girl my son keeps mentioning—Yoon Junyoung this, Yoon Junyoung that. She’s quite pretty. Looks clever, too.”

“Mom!”

Seungwoon, his expression unusually fierce, raised his voice. Junyoung’s typically expressionless face now showed wide eyes, and Seungwoon’s ears turned red. His mother, calm as ever, asked gently.

“Do you have plans this Saturday? Would you like to visit our home?”

“Pardon?”

Junyoung’s lips parted slightly in surprise. She glanced at Seungwoon, whose face was entirely red and stammered. Her own cheeks began to flush as well.