It started with a shadow.
Just a flicker at first—barely visible in the corner of her eye as Haeun crossed the school courtyard the next morning. She turned instinctively, eyes sweeping the crowd of students shuffling toward the building. But there was nothing unusual. Just the same worn-out uniforms, the same laughter from behind phones, the same judgment in people's eyes when they noticed her passing.
Still, the feeling clung to her.
Minjae noticed again. He always did.
He stood waiting outside the classroom, pretending to scroll through his phone. But his gaze was steady when she walked past.
"Hey," Minjae said, matching her steps.
"Hi," Haeun muttered, pulling her hood slightly higher.
"You look tired."
"I didn't sleep well."
He studied her for a moment. "Nightmares?"
"Something like that."
They reached their desks in silence, but his attention didn't waver. During class, Haeun kept catching him glancing at her, lips pressed into a line, clearly debating whether or not to ask what was really going on.
She didn't tell him.
Not yet.
At lunch, the cafeteria was its usual buzz of noise and flying food wrappers. But today, Haeun didn't sit in her corner spot. She walked out instead, cutting through the side hallway, and climbed the old stairs up to the roof.
She needed air. She needed space.
The rooftop was her place. Cold wind brushed across her skin, slicing through her hoodie. The sky was a dull grey again, like it hadn't made up its mind to rain. She sat down against the wall, pulled her knees to her chest, and stared out over the city.
She didn't hear him until the door creaked open behind her.
"Thought you might be up here," Minjae said, closing it behind him.
She didn't move.
"I wanted to be alone," Haeun said quietly.
"I figured," Minjae replied. He sat anyway, a few feet away from her.
She didn't protest.
For a while, the only sound was the wind.
Then Minjae said, "You're scared of something."
Haeun turned toward him slowly. "What makes you say that?"
"You flinch when people walk behind you. You keep checking your phone. And you've looked over your shoulder three times since we got up here."
She said nothing.
"You don't have to tell me," Minjae continued. "But you don't have to keep it all inside either."
"I've kept worse inside."
Minjae leaned back against the wall. "Maybe. But people like you… you eventually break if you don't let someone carry a little of it with you."
Haeun looked away. Her voice came out low.
"I got a message. From someone anonymous."
"What did it say?"
She hesitated, then replied, "That they know who I really am. And I should stop hiding."
Minjae didn't laugh or ask if she was serious. He just sat there, quiet for a moment.
"That's not funny," he finally said.
"It wasn't meant to be."
"Have you told anyone?"
Haeun shook her head. "Just you."
Minjae's fingers clenched around the cuff of his sleeve.
"I'll walk you home today," he said.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to," Minjae interrupted, his voice firmer now. "Just in case."
She didn't argue. That alone was enough to make his chest tighten.
After school, the two of them walked side by side, backpacks slung casually but eyes alert. Haeun didn't talk much, but her silence wasn't cold today—it was cautious. Watchful. Like her mind was replaying something in loops.
Minjae tried to lighten the mood as they crossed a small park path near her building.
"You know," he said, nudging her shoulder, "if someone's stalking you, I'm probably on their radar now."
Haeun glanced sideways. "You still wanna be around?"
"Yeah," Minjae said with a soft grin. "Especially now."
She exhaled through her nose, almost like a laugh.
When they reached the lobby of her apartment, she stopped near the mailboxes.
"You don't have to come in," she said.
"I know."
She hesitated, then looked up at him. "Thanks."
He shrugged. "Anytime, Haeun."
As he turned to leave, her voice stopped him.
"Minjae."
He turned.
"Don't tell anyone," she said. "About the message."
His gaze softened. "I won't."
That night, after a quiet dinner and Rihan's usual sarcastic commentary about her taste in music, Haeun retreated to her room.
She didn't sleep.
Instead, she sat on the edge of her bed, scrolling through her message history. No new texts. No more threats.
But the silence felt worse.
The next morning came too quickly. At school, something was different.
Someone had slipped a folded note into her locker.
She stared at it for a moment, then opened it.
WE SEE YOU. STOP PRETENDING.
Her stomach dropped.
She crumpled the paper, shoved it deep into her pocket, and slammed the locker shut.
Minjae found her near the staircase.
"You okay?"
"No," she replied.
He didn't ask anything else. Just followed her up to the rooftop again during break, without a word.
The wind was colder today. Sharp. It felt like it was trying to pull secrets out of her.
Minjae sat next to her, closer this time.
"You think it's someone from school?" he asked.
"Probably," Haeun whispered.
"Do you think it's about your past?"
Haeun swallowed hard. "Maybe."
"Does Rihan know?"
"No."
Minjae nodded slowly.
"I'm here, okay?" he said.
"I didn't ask you to be."
"You don't have to."
She stared ahead. Her voice was barely audible.
"I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me."
"Too late," Minjae replied quietly. "I'm already involved."
A breeze swept between them, but this time, it didn't feel so lonely.