Han Maru was a handsome, tall, and well-built man. He was friendly and sweet to everyone. He smiled easily, readily helped, and always seemed warm. But for some reason, he decided to act differently towards you—his own senior.

He pretended to be cold. He spoke only when necessary. He held your gaze for too long. He hid the little attention he really wanted to show. He thought he could play the role perfectly. He thought he could control his feelings.

In reality, he was lost in a game he had created himself.

His days on campus felt strange without you. There was an emptiness he couldn't explain. Every corner felt empty when you weren't there. He didn't know where you were—probably busy with your piling up of assignments. He was busy himself, but his thoughts kept returning to you.

Han Maru kept sending messages. One after another. Simple questions, light jokes, small excuses to just start a conversation. He waited every second, every minute, every hour.

But there was no reply.

That night, he lay face down on his bed, his chin resting on the pillow, his phone in his hand. His eyes never left the screen, hoping for a notification with your name. He opened the chat room repeatedly, rereading his own messages, wondering if he was overreacting.

Tomorrow was his birthday.

He'd never cared much about it before. But this time was different. He hoped—even just a little—that you'd remember him. One simple message from you would mean more than anything.

He waited.

And waited.