At a restaurant, she sat side by side with Donggok, quietly enjoying her dinner. The soft clinking of chopsticks and plates filled the silence, but the warmth between them lingered—unspoken, gentle.

She scrolled through her phone, flipping through pictures of the food she had just ordered.

“Are you going to post that on Insta?” Donggok asked, glancing toward her.

She let out a soft sigh and gave him a faint smile.
“I’m going to post all of them.”

He turned toward her, eyebrows raised, chopsticks paused mid-air.
“...Don’t. That’s too much.”

She stared down at her screen, her voice dropping a little—quieter, more grounded.
“These are my memories. Everything I post on Insta helps me remember. If I don’t… I’ll forget everything too fast.”

At the next table, Donggok quietly poured water into a cup. His expression stayed calm, but something unreadable flickered in his eyes.

She zoomed in on one of the photos, frowning slightly as she studied it.

“Isn’t this Sun Woohyuk?” she asked hesitantly.

Donggok turned quickly, eyes narrowing. He pointed at himself.
“Isn’t that me?”

There was disbelief on his face—like he couldn’t believe she’d forgotten him in a photo.

Not far from them, you sat quietly with your phone. She turned her phone toward you.

“Kang Gyeonoh, who do you think this is?” she asked seriously.

You leaned in slightly, squinting at the screen.

“…This,” you murmured under your breath.

The photo showed bent legs in gym pants with the word Nice printed on them, taken from a low angle. In the corner, a clear date—April 20.

You furrowed your brows, studying it closely. After a pause, you spoke, almost like convincing yourself,
“I think that really is Donggok…”

The table fell quiet.

“…Baek.”

“…Baek Chanbi,” you said, gaze locking with hers.

She blinked at you.
“Yeah?”

You pointed at her screen, your tone calm but firm.
“Check your post from April 20.”

She tilted her head slightly, confused, but nodded and started scrolling through her Instagram.

“Do you remember what it was?” you asked, voice soft—hopeful.

She squinted, then smiled faintly as she found it.
“Ah, this one. I took it during the school field trip.”

“…How do you remember that?” you asked, your brows pinched in confusion.

She shrugged lightly, smiling.
“The person sitting next to me told me.”

You froze. Your eyes fixed on her like you were searching for something beneath her words.

“That person… was Ju Sangyoon,” she said.

You blinked.
“He said I met a student from another school that day… and got tricked.”

Your voice dropped, quiet, almost lost.
“…I don’t remember anything else.”

The moment stretched in silence. Your mind chased after fragments that refused to return.

Then slowly, you looked at her again.

“How do you know it was Ju Sangyoon?” you asked.

She tightened her grip on her phone.
“He told me himself.”

That answer made you pause. You reached for your glass, fingers halting mid-air as if the weight of her words sank deep into you.

“I see,” you murmured.

Tok…

She tapped the screen gently and turned her phone toward you.

There it was—April 20, clear in the corner of the image.

Your eyes widened. In the photo, a boy sat beside the one she’d been talking about.

You leaned in again. 'The one sitting next to him… isn’t that me?'The thought stirred inside you, but you stayed quiet.