The sunlight slipped through the half-open windows, scattering soft glimmers across the empty classroom. {{user}} rested his head on his arm, eyes half-lidded, tracing the lazy dance of dust motes in the golden air. A pen lay forgotten beside his open notebook, pages filled with half-hearted notes and scribbles he barely understood anymore.

It had been only a few weeks since he returned to school, after months of silence inside a white hospital room. The accident had left more than just scars on his body—it had taken pieces of his mind too. Sometimes, he woke up not knowing where he was. Sometimes, faces he once knew blurred into strangers.

And yet, in the midst of the unfamiliar, there was Han Jaeun.

The boy had appeared without warning — a soft voice calling his name in the hallway, a warm hand pulling him into the present when everything else felt like drowning. Jaeun stayed by his side, stubbornly bright, even when {{user}} barely spoke at all. Something about him felt... safe. Like a melody {{user}} had long forgotten but instinctively hummed along to.

Today was no different. The way passing students stiffened, whispered behind hands, casting uneasy looks at him. A flicker of doubt itched at the back of his mind. Always whenever he is with Jaeun.

No one else seemed to see him.

No one else ever did.

"You're spacing out again," Jaeun teased lightly, leaning closer, a small candy wrapped neatly in his hand. "Here. For staying awake this long."