Sooheon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze flickering toward Namra, who sat a few seats away. She wasn't looking at him-not that he expected her to.

She had been like this before. Distant. Closed off.

Back in Hyosan High, she used to avoid him. He didn't know why at first, but he noticed the pattern quickly. Whenever he found her off guard-alone in an empty hallway, hidden away on the rooftop, or tucked into a quiet corner of the library-she would tense up. And then, before he could say anything, she would leave. Sometimes walking away briskly. Other times, outright running.

He never chased after her.

He just... let her be.

It wasn't like he had meant to startle her every time. But something about the way she looked at him-like she wasn't sure whether to acknowledge his presence or pretend he wasn't there-had always been confusing. She wasn't scared of him. No, it wasn't that. It was something else.

But things changed. Over time, the distance between them shrank. Slowly, carefully. Until she stopped running. Until she started staying.

And now, here they were again.

He exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair.

Was she running away again?

---

3 years ago

Sooheon leaned against the cracked concrete wall, exhaling softly. His first day at Hyosan High had been exhausting-new uniforms, new faces, the same suffocating expectations. He needed air, space to breathe, so he had wandered behind the old school building, hoping for a moment of peace.

But he wasn't alone.

At first, all he saw was a hand. Slender fingers holding a purple lighter, the small flame flickering in the afternoon breeze. Then, as his eyes traveled upward, he saw her face.

Namra. Though he didn't know how her name, yet.

She wasn't looking away. In fact, she was staring directly at him, her obsidian black eyes locked onto his like she was trying to gauge his next move. Her skin was pale-not the soft, delicate pale people admired, but something colder. There was no warmth, no pinkish hue, nothing that made her look fragile. Instead, she looked... detached. Like she existed in a space separate from the world around her.

A cigarette rested between her lips, unlit. The lighter's flame danced, but she hesitated, as if the presence of another person had pulled her back to reality.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was heavy with something unspoken, something tense. Sooheon wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that this-this moment-wasn't something people saw every day.

She wasn't the Namra he would see in the classroom later-the top student, the quiet, untouchable girl who carried an air of perfection around her like a shield. This was different. A version of her that wasn't meant to be seen.

And yet, here he was.

Namra's fingers twitched slightly against the lighter, but she didn't move otherwise. Her posture was still, controlled, but her expression had lost its usual blankness. She was surprised. Maybe even a little uneasy.

For the first time, Sooheon saw something rare-an unscripted moment from a girl who would seem composed.

Then, without a word, she snapped the lighter shut. The flame disappeared.

She turned her back to him and, in a single smooth motion, threw the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath her shoe.

Sooheon tilted his head, watching as she straightened her posture, as if nothing had happened. She hadn't said a word. Neither had he.

And then, she walked away.

Sooheon didn't stop her.

But as he stood there, staring at the faint trace of smoke dissolving into the air, he knew that this moment would stay with him.

Because as the first impression, he had seen Namra-not the perfect student, not the untouchable girl, but someone real. And that made all the difference.

---

Jaebom walked down the hallway, hands stuffed in his pockets, his usual calm demeanor unshaken by the chattering students around him. He had an effortless way of moving through the crowd—never rushed, never too slow, as if the world naturally adjusted to his pace.

Sooheon spotted him from a few steps ahead, leaning against the lockers with a lazy posture, arms crossed. He wasn’t particularly waiting for him, but when their eyes met, Jaebom gave a small nod, and Sooheon returned the gesture.

“You look dead tired,” Jaebom remarked as he approached, voice even.

Sooheon exhaled through his nose. “Didn’t sleep much.”

Jaebom didn’t pry. He never did. They weren’t the kind of friends who dissected emotions or prodded at each other’s personal lives. Their conversations were easy, surface-level but never forced.

“Ah Jung dragged me to a café yesterday,” Jaebom said, as if just remembering.

Sooheon smirked slightly. “And?”

Jaebom shrugged. “She’s... persistent.”

“Sounds like trouble.”

“Not really. Just direct.”

As the bell rang for lunch, Sooheon walked with Jaebom down the hallway. The sounds of chatter and footsteps echoed around them. Sooheon had his hands in his pockets, and Jaebom was walking beside him with his usual relaxed attitude.

"What's up with you today? You seem quieter than usual," Jaebom commented, glancing at him.

Sooheon shrugged, not quite ready to go into detail. "Just tired, I guess."

Jaebom nodded but didn’t press further. They continued walking, but as they neared the corner to the cafeteria, Chanmi suddenly joined them, catching up with them from behind.

"Hey, are you both going to lunch now?" Chanmi asked, her tone a little too cheerful.

Sooheon hesitated for a moment. "I’m actually gonna go check on something first," he said, his voice a little distant. "I’ll catch up later."

Chanmi blinked, confused but not surprised by his usual unpredictability. "Right, sure," she said with a faint smile, though her eyes lingered on him. "We’ll save a seat for you."

Jaebom gave Sooheon a quick glance before looking back at Chanmi. "You know how he is," he said with a smirk. "Always somewhere else in his head."

Sooheon gave them a half-hearted smile. "See you guys later," he said and turned away, heading in the direction of the classroom.

His mind was preoccupied with something else entirely. The conversation and plans could wait; he had to make sure Namra ate. He could feel the distance between them again, something lingering in the air whenever she wasn’t herself. It wasn’t like before, but it didn’t feel right leaving her alone either.

---

Sooheon watched as Namra buried her face in her books, her body slouched slightly as if she were trying to disappear into the pages. It was clear she was using them as a shield, trying to block out the world—or at least him.

He exhaled slowly, trying to figure out how to get through to her. She'd been like this for days, and he could sense that something was weighing on her, something that had nothing to do with school or any of the usual stressors. She was pulling away, and he didn’t know how much longer he could let that happen without saying something.

After standing there for a moment, he finally spoke up, trying to sound casual. “You’re not planning on staying buried in those books all lunch, are you?”

Namra didn’t immediately look up. Her fingers absently flipped through the pages, her eyes barely skimming the words. “I’m fine, Sooheon,” she muttered, her voice muffled by the book in front of her.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” Sooheon said with a soft, teasing tone, though his gaze softened with concern. “Come on, let’s grab lunch. You’re not fooling anyone.”

There was a brief pause before Namra let out a quiet sigh, almost inaudible. She lowered the book, but instead of looking at him, she just kept her gaze focused on the desk in front of her.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied flatly, the words carrying that same tone of detachment.

Sooheon leaned forward slightly, his voice gentler now, trying not to push too hard. “It’s not about food, Namra. It’s just... it’s just lunch. You can sit with me, talk to me, or just... not be alone.”

She finally glanced at him, her eyes tired but not hostile. There was a flicker of something—maybe hesitation, maybe vulnerability—in her expression.

“I don’t feel like being around people today,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sooheon studied her for a moment, his hand lightly tapping on the table. He wasn’t going to let her push him away so easily. Not this time.

“Fine, you don’t have to talk. But I’m not leaving until you come with me. We’ll get something simple—just a quick break. Even if it’s just to get some air. You can go back to being a bookworm afterward,” he said, trying to lighten the mood with a small, teasing grin.

Namra stared at him for a long beat, the silence stretching between them. But eventually, she let out another quiet sigh and, after a long moment, finally closed the book in front of her.

“Alright,” she muttered, her voice soft and reluctant. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

Sooheon smiled, more out of relief than anything else. “Great. I know you can refuse,” he added with a teasing wink.

She rolled her eyes slightly, but the ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

“Just don’t make it too weird, okay?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sooheon replied, standing up and offering her a hand, his smile genuine.

Namra hesitated for just a second, but then reached out and took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

They left the classroom together, and as they walked down the hall, Sooheon couldn’t help but notice how much lighter the air felt now that she was no longer shut away in her own world. Maybe it wasn’t a huge step, but it was something. And for now, that was enough.

They reached the school playground, the usual lunchtime bustle around them, though it was quieter near the corner where the trees provided some shade. Sooheon led the way, nudging her toward a bench. He had an easy confidence in his movements, but he could sense that Namra was still in her own world, her gaze distant as she followed him.

Without saying much, Sooheon reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a banana milk, offering it to her. He held it out with a casual smile.

“Here,” he said. “Thought you might need this. I didn’t forget.”

Namra raised an eyebrow, glancing at the bottle in his hand. It was a small gesture, but somehow it seemed to hold more weight than just a drink. She hesitated for a second, then reached out and took it, her fingers brushing against his.

“Banana milk?” she asked with a slight, almost imperceptible smirk.

Sooheon took out another for himself, unscrewing the cap with one hand. “Yeah. It’s a classic. Can’t go wrong.”

She didn’t say anything, but she opened the bottle and took a sip. The cold, sweet taste seemed to bring a small measure of comfort, or at least some normalcy back. They sat in silence for a few moments, neither one of them rushing to fill the quiet.

Sooheon finally spoke up, looking out at the students playing in the distance. “Isn't it nicer than books?”

Namra’s gaze flickered briefly toward him, but she didn’t respond right away. She looked down at the banana milk in her hands, her fingers tracing the smooth surface of the bottle.

“I guess so,” she murmured, but her voice didn’t sound as convincing as it usually did. “It's quite nice because I'm not alone.”

Sooheon didn’t push further, though the concern was still clear in his eyes. He took a sip of his own milk, letting the silence settle between them again. They both knew it was just the surface level, and neither one of them needed to speak for it to be understood.

They stayed like that for a while—Sooheon occasionally stealing glances at her as she stared out across the playground, her expression thoughtful. There was something about her, something he couldn’t quite put into words, but he was starting to realize that maybe it wasn’t about having the perfect answer. Maybe it was just about being there. And he was going to keep being there, no matter how long it took her to open up again.