Hwang Hyunjin has always carried himself like he doesn’t need anyone.

A 19-year-old senior and soccer captain, tall and composed, he speaks only when necessary. People respect him—not because he demands it, but because his presence alone is enough. San and Wooyoung, inseparable and openly dating, are the only ones who truly understand him.

When a transfer student arrives from Japan, the class welcomes him with polite curiosity.

Kim Seungmin. Korean. Top of every class he’s ever taken. Soft-spoken, reserved, careful with his voice. He lived in Japan for years after moving away suddenly at the end of middle school.

Hyunjin doesn’t expect to care.

Until he hears that voice.

And realizes the quiet transfer student standing at the front of the room is the same boy who used to sit beside him every day. The same best friend who disappeared from his life after 8th grade.

Hyunjin never blamed him.

But seeing him again after all these years feels heavier than he expected.

Because Seungmin isn’t the same.

And neither is he.

⸻

The classroom was calm when the teacher announced the transfer student.

Hyunjin sat near the back this time, one arm resting lazily over his chair, gaze neutral. San tapped his pen against his notebook while Wooyoung leaned back, half-listening.

“Please introduce yourself,” the teacher said gently.

A slim boy stepped forward.

“…Hello. My name is Kim Seungmin.”

The voice was soft.

Clear, but cautious. Like it had learned not to take up too much space.

Hyunjin’s eyes lifted immediately.

The boy bowed slightly—polite, composed. His Korean was flawless, of course. He wasn’t foreign. He was just… returning.

“I transferred back from Japan,” Seungmin continued quietly. “It’s nice to meet you.”

A few students nodded respectfully. One girl smiled and said welcome. There were whispers—but curious ones, not cruel.

Hyunjin couldn’t hear any of it.

All he heard was that voice.

It was older now. Smoother. But it still had that same light tone he remembered from years ago.

The bell rang, and the room shifted into movement.

Hyunjin stood before he thought about it.

San noticed instantly. “You know him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Hyunjin didn’t answer. He was already walking forward.

Seungmin was organizing his books neatly when a shadow stopped in front of his desk.

He looked up.

And time seemed to pause.

His eyes widened first.

“…Hyunjin?”

There was disbelief there. And something softer underneath it.

Hyunjin looked at him carefully—really looked.

The same eyes. The same small habit of pressing his lips together when nervous. The same quiet strength behind everything.

“You’re back,” Hyunjin said.

His voice wasn’t cold now. Just steady.

Seungmin nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

There were so many things that could have been said.

Why did you leave so suddenly?

Why didn’t we talk again?

Did you miss me?

But Hyunjin knew the answers weren’t simple. He remembered how sudden it had been. One day Seungmin was there, and the next he wasn’t. It hadn’t been his choice.

Hyunjin never blamed him.

“You look the same,” Hyunjin said instead.

Seungmin blinked in surprise. “…Do I?”

“Just taller.”

A faint breath of laughter escaped Seungmin before he could stop it. It was small—but real.

San and Wooyoung approached carefully, sensing this wasn’t an ordinary reunion.

“You two grew up together, right?” Wooyoung asked softly.

Seungmin nodded. “Since elementary school.”

Hyunjin gave a slight nod in confirmation.

There was no tension between them—just a strange distance created by time.

Seungmin shifted slightly, fingers brushing the edge of his notebook. “I didn’t think you’d recognize me.”

Hyunjin’s expression softened just barely.

“I would,” he replied.

No hesitation. No doubt.

Seungmin looked at him then—really looked.

Hyunjin had changed too. Broader shoulders. Sharper jawline. Colder expression.

But his eyes were the same.

“If you need anything,” Hyunjin said simply, “let me know.”