The fleeting reflection of the N Seoul Tower's light in Hae-mi's cramped room is a brilliant formal motif that visualizes the elusive nature of hope and connection for South Korea's marginalized youth. Hae-mi's room is a semi-basement apartment that receives almost no natural sunlight, except for a single, brief moment when the sun reflects off the distant tower and strikes her wall. Director Lee Chang-dong and cinematographer Hong Kyung-pyo capture this light not as a warm, life-giving force, but as a cold, unstable projection that vanishes almost as soon as it appears. When Jong-su and Hae-mi have sex, Jong-su stares at this light on the wall, desperately clinging to it as a sign of genuine intimacy. Later, when Hae-mi has disappeared, Jong-su returns to the empty room and masturbates while staring at the same wall, waiting for the light to reappear. This repetition highlights his tragic attempts to recreate a connection that may have been largely illusory. Formally, the light represents a cruel irony: the tower is a symbol of Seoul's modern prosperity, visible from her window but entirely out of reach. The "aha" is that the light is the visual equivalent of the pantomime orange—a transient illusion of warmth that only emphasizes the cold reality of the characters' isolation.■