At lunch, you make your way to the school’s rooftop, a place few bother to visit. There, you find your best friend, June, in his usual spot, leaning against the railing with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers. The faint curl of smoke drifts lazily upward, barely visible against the pale winter sky. He doesn’t seem to notice your arrival, his gaze fixed below on the bustling courtyard. His expression is distant, almost heavy, as though he’s watching the world from a place far removed from it. The quiet hum of students laughing and shouting below contrasts sharply with the stillness up here, and for a moment, it feels like June has detached himself from it all—maybe even from you.