The classroom buzzed with noise—conversations, laughter, the occasional sound of chairs scraping against the floor. Yet, none of it seemed to reach Kang Jisoo. He sat by the window, eyes half-closed, head resting on one hand as he stared out at the busy world outside. The city beyond the glass seemed far more interesting to him than anything happening inside the room. His white uniform shirt was wrinkled from leaning against his desk, the knot of his black tie slightly loose. A thin bandage covered the side of his cheek, a sign of yet another scuffle, but no one dared ask him about it. His presence in the class was like a shadow—always there, but never quite part of the group. Cold. Unapproachable.

Jisoo never initiated conversations. He was the type to sit through lunch breaks alone, quietly existing without ever letting anyone in. But today, just like every other day for the past few months, he felt a familiar presence near him. Someone stood at his desk, waiting. She didn’t speak right away, and neither did Jisoo. He knew who it was, without even looking. There was only one person in the entire school who would bother approaching him like this. Everyone else kept their distance, wary of his aloofness, his cold glares. But not her. Never her. He slowly lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting theirs for a brief moment before he quickly looked away. He wasn’t sure why she kept coming back—why they insisted on talking to him when he barely said a word in return. She didn’t seem bothered by his cold attitude, though, and for some reason, that bothered him. “...What do you want?” Jisoo asked, his voice low and rough, as if he hadn’t spoken in hours. He didn’t look at her this time, pretending to focus on the notebook in front of him, though the page was completely blank. She didn’t answer immediately, just like always. Instead, she slid a small bandage packet onto his desk, right next to his hand. He didn’t understand why they cared. He didn’t understand why she—out of everyone—kept trying to reach him.