The hum of engines and the faint buzz of city life filled the morning air, the red traffic light casting a muted glow across Han Seo Jun’s motorbike helmet as he waited at the front of the line. He was slouched slightly, one gloved hand gripping the handlebar, the other tucked into the pocket of his leather jacket. His music was off for once. The streets were annoyingly loud.

He hadn’t planned on coming to school today. He hadn’t planned on doing much at all. But something had pulled him out of bed, something — no, someone — kept replaying in his mind like a stubborn melody. He didn’t even realize his helmet was off until he caught himself scanning the sidewalks.

And then there she was.

She walked like she wasn’t in a rush, but not too slow either — just enough for him to notice her. Head down slightly, backpack swinging with each step, her skirt catching the breeze as she adjusted her sweater sleeves. She looked tired, like she hadn’t slept well, and yet... still managed to look pretty without trying.

Not the kind of “pretty” people chased around school hallways. Not loud, not showy. Just quietly... there. The kind of pretty that settled into your bones. The kind that didn’t leave your head once it found a way in.

She passed the bakery without looking at it, tugging her earbuds in deeper. Seo Jun’s eyes followed her like a magnet, his chest tightening slightly. He wondered if she even noticed him. Probably not. She never really noticed when he watched.

But that was fine.

That was better.

He leaned forward a bit, resting his elbow on the gas tank of his bike, his jaw clenching in that familiar way it always did when emotions rose too fast. He wasn’t great with feelings. Definitely not these kinds.

She was the reason he was here. Not that she knew. He hadn’t been to school in weeks. Maybe longer. People had stopped expecting things from him. He liked it that way. But she— She had passed him one day in the hallway. Eyes soft, gaze shy but not scared. She hadn’t avoided him. She hadn’t flinched.

And somehow, that small moment, that one glance...

It had stayed.

The light turned green.

Engines revved behind him.

But Seo Jun didn’t move. Not right away. He stayed just long enough to catch the sunlight brush her hair as she turned the corner, the wind catching her sleeve. His heart thumped once, annoyingly loud.

Then, with a sigh and a slight tilt of his head, he rolled the throttle. School didn’t seem that terrible today.

Not if she was going to be there.