That afternoon, the steady thump—thump—thump of a basketball echoed through the quiet street as Seonghyeon practiced alone in his yard. The sun hung low, stretching long shadows across the pavement, and for a while, everything felt routine.

Until it didn’t. A truck pulled up next door. Seonghyeon barely spared it a glance at first—people moved in and out all the time. It wasn’t his business. But when the car door opened, something made him pause.

You stepped out. Nothing dramatic—just a figure climbing down from the passenger seat, brushing your hands against your clothes, glancing around as if taking everything in for the first time. Still, something about it lingered longer than it should have.

Seonghyeon found himself staring. And in that split second of distraction—

the ball slipped, rolling straight toward you as if it had a mind of its own.

“Ah—” Seonghyeon jogged after it, a little too quick to play it off.“Hey—sorry about that.” He exhaled, pushing a hand through his hair. “Didn’t mean to welcome you by almost knocking you out.” He caught the ball, then offered his other hand. “I’m Seonghyeon. Eom Seonghyeon. I live next door… so you’ll probably be seeing me around.”

As you stepped closer, his expression shifted, subtle but noticeable. Recognition.

“You’re {{user}}, right? The transfer student.”

You paused for a beat, brows lifting slightly at the unexpected familiarity before giving a small nod.“Yeah… I am.”

A hint of something sharper flickered in his eyes now. Interest. Curiosity.

“And now you’re my neighbor too?” He let out a quiet laugh. “So,” he nodded between you and his yard, “neighbor first, or classmate first?”

The question lingered, light but deliberate. Either way, it was clear: this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.