It had been a week since the festival, and the feeling hadn't left me.
That quiet, electric something that lingered every time I thought of her. The fireworks, her half-smile, the sound of her laugh — they replayed in my mind like a song that refused to end.
But I didn't tell anyone. Especially not Hwan. He'd tease me until graduation.
Instead, I went through my days like normal — or at least pretending to be. Laughing at the right times, cracking jokes, acting like nothing had changed.
Except it had.
Morning Routine
"Hey, Loverboy," Hwan said as he slung an arm over my shoulder at the gate. "You've been weird lately."
"Weird how?" I asked.
"Quiet. Thoughtful. You're scaring me. You got a crush or something?"
I scoffed. "You think I fall that easily?"
He grinned. "No. But you look like you already did."
I shoved him off with a laugh, but my heart betrayed me. Because he was right — I had fallen, quietly and completely.
In the Classroom
Eun Ji sat by the window again, sunlight touching her hair. She didn't notice me come in, her attention lost in her sketchbook. I caught a glimpse of what she was drawing — the school garden, lanterns strung between branches.
The festival.
My throat tightened.
When she finally looked up, our eyes met for half a second before she looked away again. Still calm, still unreadable, but her cheeks had the faintest blush.
I sat down behind her, pretending to dig through my bag.
It was strange — the silence between us wasn't awkward anymore. It was familiar, almost comforting.
But the rest of the class didn't see it that way.
Rumors
By lunch, the whispers had begun again.
"Did you see Han Joon with that quiet girl?"
"They were walking home together after the fireworks."
"Poor Eun Ji… he'll just play with her like he does everyone else."
The words slid through the hallways like smoke, impossible to contain.
Hwan tried to warn me. "It's starting again," he said, frowning. "People think you're just messing with her."
I clenched my jaw. "Let them think what they want."
But deep down, I felt it — anger. Not because of the rumors about me, but because she didn't deserve to be dragged into them.
When I saw her later that afternoon, she was quieter than usual. Her expression unreadable, her steps slower.
"Eun Ji," I said softly, catching up to her after class. "You've heard them, haven't you?"
She nodded. "I have."
"I swear I didn't—"
She stopped me with a look. "I know. You don't have to explain."
"Then why do you look like you're about to disappear?"
She hesitated. "Because this is how it always starts. People talk, then it gets worse, and then… it ruins things."
"Things?"
She met my eyes. "Friendships. Feelings. Whatever this is."
I wanted to tell her that this wasn't like before, that she was different — but the words felt too heavy, too soon.
So I just said, "I won't let that happen."
And she gave me a small, tired smile. "You can't control what people say, Han Joon."
The Rooftop
The next day, she didn't show up to class.
No text, no message, nothing.
At lunch, I climbed the back staircase — the one that led to the school rooftop where we sometimes went to escape noise.
She was there. Sitting near the railing, her headphones in, wind tugging at her hair.
"Skipping class?" I said softly.
She looked over her shoulder. "I needed quiet."
I sat beside her, leaving a small gap between us. "You're running away."
She smiled faintly. "Maybe. But sometimes it's better to leave before something breaks."
I turned to her. "You think I'll break you?"
Her eyes flickered toward me — calm, sad, beautiful. "No. I think you'll get tired first."
The words hit harder than I expected. Because part of me was afraid she was right. I didn't want to be like before — chasing the feeling, losing interest once the mystery faded.
But this time… it was different.
"I won't," I said quietly. "I'm not that person anymore."
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The sound of the wind and distant laughter drifted up from below.
Then, softly, she asked, "Why me?"
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Why not any of the others? You could have anyone."
I smiled, shaking my head. "Because you're the only one who doesn't want me."
That made her laugh — really laugh this time, the sound bright against the grey sky.
"You're impossible," she said.
"And yet you're still here," I replied.
She looked away, but her smile lingered. "For now."
After School
When classes ended, the sky was heavy with clouds, threatening rain. We walked home together again, neither of us mentioning the rumors, the rooftop, or the half-confession hanging between us.
Just the sound of footsteps on the wet pavement, our reflections flickering in puddles.
As we reached her street, she stopped. "You don't have to walk me home every day."
"I know," I said. "But I want to."
She looked at me, her expression softening for a moment. Then she said something I didn't expect.
"Sometimes I think you care too much about people who don't deserve it."
"Maybe," I said. "But you're not one of them."
She blinked — just once — and I saw it. A crack in the wall she always kept around herself. A tiny, fleeting spark of warmth.
Then she smiled faintly. "Goodnight, Han Joon."
"Goodnight, Eun Ji."
Late That Night
The rain came down harder after midnight.
I lay awake, listening to it drum against the window, thinking about her words. "You'll get tired first."
Maybe she didn't believe in people staying. Maybe she was right not to.
But I wasn't planning on leaving. Not this time.
I pulled out my phone and opened our chat — still mostly empty.
For a long time, I stared at the blank text box, fingers hovering over the screen.
Then I typed:
"If it rains tomorrow, meet me on the rooftop again."
I didn't hit send.
I just stared at the message, smiled faintly, and turned off the screen.
Because if she came, I wanted it to be her choice.