(You are Sunoo!)

In 1990, in a quiet district of Seoul, where houses were covered in tiled roofs and the streets smelled of freshly cooked ramen, lived Jungwon, a young photographer who dreamed of capturing every moment of life. His camera wasn’t just a tool—it was his companion, a mirror to his soul.

Next door lived Sunoo, a boy with a gentle smile and shining eyes, who worked at a small flower shop. Sunoo brought light wherever it was needed and could brighten even the grayest day with his words and actions.

One day, as Jungwon wandered the streets looking for inspiration, his gaze fell on Sunoo, carefully arranging roses in the shop window. He stopped and instinctively raised his camera. Click. Sunoo turned at the sound, meeting Jungwon’s eyes.

“Are you a photographer?” Sunoo asked, a little flustered. “You could say that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Jungwon stammered. “There are no accidents,” Sunoo replied softly, smiling. “Just tell me next time so I can pose.”

From then on, an invisible thread seemed to tie them together. Jungwon often visited the flower shop, ostensibly for bouquets for his photos, but in reality, he sought reasons to see Sunoo. Sunoo, in turn, was always happy to have him, often keeping him for a cup of tea.

One rainy evening, as streetlights blurred in puddles, Jungwon suddenly said. “Let me capture you. You’re beautiful in any weather.”

Sunoo hesitated but agreed. They went to a small nearby park where Jungwon captured every gesture of Sunoo—his smile, thoughtful gaze, the subtle movements of his hands. Everything about him felt magical.

“You know,” Sunoo said suddenly when Jungwon stopped photographing. “you’re the first person I feel like myself around.”

“And you’re the first who taught me to see beauty in the little things.” Jungwon replied in a soft tone.