The child felt a deep fatigue as he lay down on the bed, relaxing his tired body. As expected, the bed was plush and luxurious. The freshly laundered sheets and soft mattress offered a level of comfort he had never even imagined.

Faint laughter from children outside the orphanage drifted in. Afternoon sunlight streamed through the window onto the bed, gently touching the child. This warmth brought a sense of poignancy, and tears unknowingly began to flow.

“Mom…”

His mother, who had always been by his side, was gone, and he felt utterly alone in the world. Furthermore, the world itself seemed to have thrown him into a strange new place. Feeling utterly lost, the child didn’t know what to do.

Winter was approaching. As the leaves of the maple trees in front of the orphanage had almost all fallen, revealing bare branches, the orphanage was bustling with activity due to a big cleanup in preparation for the colder weather ahead. Volunteers, more numerous than usual, had come to help with the cleaning. Older children, generally those receiving middle school education or higher, assisted the volunteers.

However, not everyone was participating in the bustling activity. Some of the younger children, exempt from cleaning duties due to their age, were running around the corridors, bursting with energy and laughter. Some ventured outside to the yard, despite the cold, eager to kick a ball around and play.

Yet, there were also children who preferred solitude and did not join the groups.

“Come on, let’s go outside. Aren’t you feeling claustrophobic?”

Despite Myung-soo’s pleading, the child seemed uninterested in moving.

“How can you study with all this noise? We’re supposed to eat and then play outside. Come on, will you?”

“I have to finish this.”

Myung-soo, slightly annoyed by the firm refusal, approached the child slowly and pleaded more earnestly.

“Hey, let’s go out, okay? You’re the only one who can beat Chul-yong. He’s on a winning streak.”

The child did not respond but continued to focus intensely on his writing practice. Holding a pencil stub, he pressed hard as he formed each Korean character in his notebook.

In the brief time since his arrival, the child had begun to adapt to life at the orphanage, moving past his initial despair and shock. The overwhelming newness of everything had gradually become less intimidating, and he had started to embrace his strange new life.

What fascinated him most was the concept of ‘learning’. The notion that education, once thought to be the exclusive right of the nobility, was accessible to anyone here was astonishing. The ability to learn to read and write was a joy for him. Whether he knew the alphabet before or not didn’t matter in his old life. Now, he was thrilled just to have the opportunity to learn, and these moments allowed him to forget other sorrows and focus on his studies.

The child wasn’t only excelling academically. One lunchtime, Myung-soo had dragged him out to the yard to play soccer. The game was simple: kick the ball into the goal without much regard for rules or order. However, the child’s stamina and agility, honed by years of navigating forest paths, stood out even among older children, and Myung-soo’s team was able to defeat Chul-yong’s older team. After that, Myung-soo frequently tried to recruit him for games, and although the child participated a few times out of obligation, his passion for study always pulled him back.

Today, as the child sat alone studying, he suddenly sensed someone behind him and turned to see a teenage girl with a bright white smile looking at him.

“Studying, huh? Did I interrupt you?”

The child shook his head no as he looked at the girl. Her smile was as radiant as her fair skin, and her eyes, which turned down at the corners, seemed to sparkle with kindness. She opened her pink lips to speak.

“You’re handsome, aren’t you? How can someone be so pretty? What’s your name?”

The child hesitated, moving his mouth as if struggling to respond.

A few days earlier, the child had been called to the director’s office. The director had poured him a glass of juice into a white mug and then plopped down on the sofa opposite him. The child briefly imagined the chair breaking under the director’s considerable girth.

“So, I hear you’ve been studying hard. The teachers were worried you might find it difficult here. But watching you, it seems we can worry less. Do you enjoy studying?”

“Yes.”

The child now understood that drinking the juice immediately upon receiving it might seem impolite. He glanced at the mug but hesitated to drink. The director, finding his cautiousness endearing, chuckled and gestured that it was okay to drink. Taking this as permission, the child cautiously sipped the juice.

“Next year, you’ll need to go to school. But to go to school, you need a few things, and the most important is a name. We need to know your name to prepare the paperwork for school. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Then, what’s your name?”

“Uh, my name is…”

Still finding it difficult to share his name, the director gently suggested an alternative.

“How about we give you a new name?”

The child looked up in surprise. A new name?

“If it’s difficult to use your previous name, we can create a new one for you. Of course, if we choose a new name, you’ll have to use that from now on.”

“A new name…”

The child was speechless. It was something he had never considered. The reluctance to answer questions about his name stemmed from the aftermath of a dream. His father in the dream had emphasized the importance of remembering his name, which had become an engrained command. Thus, uttering his own name had become unnatural, and misinterpretations by adults only deepened. But now, the idea of having to possibly confront unwanted situations because of his name, which did not follow the common naming conventions of this place, made him fearful.

Creating a new name?