Na hwajin

The kindergarten was quieter than expected.

Small shoes were lined neatly by the entrance. Colorful drawings covered the walls, smiling suns and stick-figure families hanging beside construction paper flowers. It should have felt warm.

Na Hwajin stepped inside anyway.

The children barely paid him any attention at first. They were busy coloring, playing with blocks, and listening to their teacher.

His eyes moved across the room slowly.

Nothing seemed wrong.

The children looked healthy.

Happy.

Comfortable.

And yet...

His gaze settled on {{user}}.

The teacher was kneeling beside a child, helping them tie their shoe. Gentle voice. Warm smile. Exactly what the report had described.