"I know why I'm here."
The little girl spoke without a trace of expression on her face.
She had been locked in a cramped room for three days. No proper bath. Then shoved into a rattling van with an empty stomach that felt like someone had scooped out her insides. Her mouth tasted of bile, bitter and metallic, but she kept her eyes wide open the entire time.
Even now—surrounded by soft wallpaper in this unfamiliar room—her neck remained stiff, her spine straight. She sat facing the psychiatrist in the white coat, picking at the dry scabs on her lips bit by bit.
"I fought with the kids at the orphanage," she said. "But I was the only one who was okay. I didn't even cry."
"I see."
The doctor noted something down with a silver pen.
"But you also look quite injured and in pain."
"This?" The girl glanced at her bruised arms. "It's nothing much."
Wounds like these were insignificant. If anything, seeing the doctor overreact to such a small injury made him look funny. Maybe the doctor was just **weak**.
"The kids I hit were hurt much worse."
"How many people did you hit?"
"Five people."
"..."
"I dislocated one person's arm. Threw another." She folded her fingers one by one as she spoke, her tone casual—like she was listing groceries. "Then I kicked someone in the hip, choked their neck, and tripped their leg."
The doctor's hands began to write busily.
"I see. So, how did you feel when your friends cried?"
"Funny."
"Why did you find it funny?"
The girl stared at the silver pen moving silently across the page.
"Because they cried just because it hurt. How **stupid**. That's not something to cry about—that's something to **endure**. If you can endure it, you'll become stronger later." Her voice carried a strange certainty. "They say bones get stronger after they break and heal."
"..."
"I also hit my shin with a branch so it would become strong. Eventually, my shin will be as hard as iron."
For the first time, her expressionless face showed a hint of pride.
"They say fighters are trained like that. Do you want to see my shin?"
"Do you want to be a fighter when you grow up?"
"No."
"Then why are you training like that?"
"..."
Her face didn't show much emotion, but the little girl who had been chattering like a bird suddenly closed her mouth tightly. She nodded slowly, as if it were a question she had never thought of before.
The doctor waited patiently.
_Did orphanages teach ballet these days?_ The thought crossed his mind. Her movements were so graceful, her posture so upright—she looked like a child from a distinguished family. Her face was small with neat features, long and thick eyelashes. Truly as beautiful as a doll.
"Because I can't throw it away."
"What do you mean?"
"...Because this is the only thing I have, so I keep doing it so I don't forget." Her voice was quieter now. "Now I don't have a mother, father, or hometown anymore. If I also throw away the only thing I learned with my own hands, I'll be too lonely."
Her words were vague, but the doctor understood immediately.
"That's why I like things that are **mine**."
In her eyes—which had been empty and dim—a strange kind of fervor slowly appeared.
"Maybe I don't have anything like that now. But if I become an adult someday and have something very precious, I will give **everything** for it. I will treat it very well. I will cherish it very much."
"You are a good child."
"That's why I will **never let go of it**."
"Hmm?"
The doctor, who was writing something in her file, looked up a little late.
Their conversation began to go off track from that point on.
"It's mine."
"..."
"I won't let it leave me. If it leaves, I will chase after it and bring it back. If it runs away, I will catch it again, and make it stay only by my side."
In the eyes of the hungry little girl, a boiling longing was reflected.
_Good heavens…_
The doctor almost touched her forehead, resisting the urge to massage it.
"Honey, even if you like someone very much, you can't just possess them the way you want."
"Why?"
The girl tilted her head innocently.
"Whether it's a person or love, you can't possess it unilaterally. Maybe you can't understand it now, but truly cherishing isn't about **owning**."
"But I only want one thing. I want something that will **never disappear**. The only thing that's mine in this world."
The girl was stubborn. Desperate.
She yearned for love in an astonishing way—perhaps because she lived in emotional deprivation. She instinctively knew what she needed. That sensitivity resembled the instinct of a hunter.
The doctor put down her pen for a moment and looked into the turbulent young eyes.
"Then, you have to learn how."
"Learn how what?"
"Learn how not to make mistakes when you meet someone you cherish someday. If you're too rough, that person might get scared. Sometimes, just because of a small mistake, we can lose someone we love very much **forever**."
The girl raised her small hands and covered her face.
Just imagining someone leaving her felt like a sharp stab in her body.
_No… I can't lose anything again…_
"That's why, when you interact with other people, you must always be careful."
Just as the doctor felt satisfied with her reaction and slowly sipped her tea, suddenly—
"Then, what if I hit my shins more often?"
_Puh!_
The doctor spat out her tea. Her chin, even her clothes, got wet.
But the girl still radiated a light from her beautiful eyes, as if nothing had happened.
"I can't hit something precious, right? Then only my legs will become strong, and if it still leaves, what should I do?"
"...!"
"I have to become strong. So that even if it leaves, I can take it back anytime."
On her face—which had been blank like white paper—a strange expression appeared. Not quite a smile, but the corners of her lips turned up as if **wanting** to smile.
"I will catch it again."
In the girl's eyes, a stubborn light—slightly odd—was reflected.
---
Since that first meeting, a child named Han Seoryeong began coming to this place once a month.
No matter how many fights she was involved in, not a single day was her body free of bruises.
Then, at some point, she started participating in gymnastics competitions because they said she had talent in that area. But in high school, an unpleasant incident forced her to drop out, and she failed to get into university. When she left the orphanage and became an adult, there was no choice but to jump straight into the working world.
Even until then, the counseling sessions continued. If she couldn't come in person, they talked on the phone.
And so, a collection of counseling notes spanning almost the entire life of a child slowly became the record of a human being named **Han Seoryeong**.
Seoryeong, who managed to survive and grow up despite her deprivations, used the skills she learned from gymnastics to obtain a massage certificate and worked for a long time as a caregiver for the elderly. Her work was hard, but she said she was happy because she received a regular salary, and she could live a stable and ordinary life.
However, life is indeed unpredictable.
---
"Doctor, I'm getting married next month."
Several years after there was no news, the child came back—with a special folding cane for the visually impaired in her hand.
But her expression was **bright**, as if the whole world was in her grasp. The cheerfulness that had never even been seen when she was little now filled her face, floating like light.
She held out a wedding invitation that smelled like flowers with a shy smile.
_So, you finally found someone!_
When the doctor exclaimed in surprise, the child's eyes began to water, turning red at the corners.
_I hope you will be truly happy._
However, the next meeting with her, who had never contacted her after getting married—
Happened on the nine o'clock news.