Miyu glided deeper into the classroom, trying to look like an ordinary girl doing ordinary things, though her heart was staging its own tiny festival behind her ribs. She adjusted her book, tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and pretended she didn't just turn to look at him.
Woo Seo.
The boy who moved through school like wind in human form — cool, unbothered, eyes that never stayed in one place for too long. He was the type who tossed jokes across the room like skipping stones, who leaned back in his chair as if gravity worked for him alone, who never seemed pressed by anything or anyone. Nonchalant didn't just describe him. It lived on his shoulders like a jacket.
He was daring too. The kind of boy who would climb the school fence just to fetch a football someone kicked too far. The kind of boy who cut class not to hide, but to nap under the mango tree like a sunlit prince. And he never appeared timid. Not once. Not even on days when exams stormed in like thunder.
Miyu liked him — quietly, fiercely, almost annoyingly. She liked the way his laughter spilled out before he could stop it. She liked the way he shoved his hands in his pockets when he pretended he didn't care about something he actually cared about a lot. She liked the sharp tilt of his jaw, the softness hiding behind his chaos.
But Woo Seo…
He didn't know.
Or maybe he knew but didn't bother believing it.
Or maybe he didn't notice her at all, not really — not the way she noticed him. To him, she was just another uniform in a sea of blue and white. A quiet girl with neat notes and gentle footsteps.
Yet when she turned earlier, for a single breath of a moment, she could've sworn his eyes flicked toward her.
---
The classroom finally settled into its usual morning rhythm. Desks scraped, chatter floated, papers rustled like restless leaves. Miyu sank into her seat, trying to steady herself. Woo Seo's laughter still drifted from the corner like an echo she couldn't ignore.
He was leaning against a desk now, one foot crossed over the other, spinning a pen between his fingers with the lazy talent of someone who had practiced boredom into an art. His friends were in a small circle around him, hyped over something Miyu couldn't hear. Probably some joke he delivered with that crooked half-smile he carried around like a signature.
Miyu opened her book, pretending to read, but the words blurred into little rivers of ink. Her attention kept drifting toward him, pulled like a tide she didn't know how to control.
Woo Seo, for his part, seemed perfectly unaware. He laughed at something his friend said, tilted his head back, then flicked his gaze around the room in that casual way he always did.
For a split second, it brushed past Miyu.
Just a brush. A feather-light moment, so quick it could have been an accident.
But her breath caught anyway. She lowered her eyes to her notebook, hoping no one noticed the heat creeping up her cheeks.
Woo Seo didn't look twice. He turned back to his friends, tapping the pen against his palm, already lost in another story or joke. To him, the world was a playground with no shadows.
To Miyu, he was a question she kept circling around but never dared to answer.
The bell rang. A crisp sound that sliced through the room. Everyone moved at once, chairs shifting, whispers rising like smoke. The teacher had not arrived yet, so chaos danced freely for a few more minutes.
Miyu took a quiet breath.
Today felt different.
Not loud-different.
Quiet-different. The kind that sits at the edge of something new.
And somewhere across the room, Woo Seo stretched his arms above his head, yawned dramatically, and glanced toward her corner again. Not long enough to call it attention, but not short enough to call it nothing.
Something was shifting.
---
The moment the teacher stepped into the classroom, the air snapped into order. His voice carried that quiet authority that emptied pockets, straightened spines, and sent wandering students scurrying.
"Everyone, return to your proper seats."
The room shifted like a wave reversing. Bags thumped, chairs screeched, conversations broke off mid-laugh. Woo Seo drifted back to his usual spot in the middle row, dropping into his chair with the ease of someone who owned his space without trying. Miyu slipped into her seat two rows behind, close enough to watch the back of his head, far enough to pretend she wasn't doing exactly that.
Then came the moment that shook the stillness.
Toshiya rose.
The class captain carried a presence that hummed with purpose. Bright eyes, sharp mind, posture that spoke of someone who always knew what to do and rarely hesitated. He wasn't old, not even close, but something about him felt refined, like he already knew the architecture of adulthood.
And he was wickedly cute.
The kind that made your pulse skip without warning.
Miyu once liked him. A quiet, soft crush she tried to bury when Woo Seo started pulling her attention like a magnet wrapped in trouble. Yet as Toshiya stood, her heart betrayed her. Something fluttered deep inside. Something she thought she had folded away neatly.
He cleared his throat, ready to address the class.
And Miyu's world tilted.
His voice—firm, bright, confident—slipped through her senses and scattered her thoughts like fallen paper. Every word struck her with a strange, old-new tenderness. Her pulse throbbed in her ears. She didn't know if the old feeling was waking up or if she simply missed the calm he carried in his presence.
Toshiya lifted a notebook, scanning the room with steady focus, and for a breath-long moment, his gaze brushed across Miyu.
Her breath tangled.
Woo Seo was the storm.
Toshiya was the balance.
And suddenly, Miyu stood between two very different kinds of gravity.
Toshiya🍀 stood up to call the class attendance.
He called out the students' names one after another, each replying with a clear "Present!"
When he got to Miyu🍁, her voice came out so timid and soft that he could barely hear her.
He had to call her name twice before she gathered the courage to reply more boldly — though her voice cracked in the process.
She felt so ashamed that her cheeks burned, but the moment quickly passed.
As Toshiya🍀 continued calling names, he reached "Ah Jun❄️."
The owner replied with confidence and calm aura — Ah Jun❄️ was known as the bookworm of the class, always with glasses on and an air of quiet intelligence
---
Miyu🍁 didn't know what to call the feeling she had for Ah Jun❄️.
It wasn't love — at least that's what she told herself. Maybe it was just admiration, or curiosity. But the way her chest tightened whenever he spoke, or the way her eyes seemed to find him without her even trying — it was starting to feel like something more.
The only problem was Na Ra — Ah Jun❄️'s girlfriend.
Na Ra from the art class.
Beautiful, confident, and the kind of girl who walked like the world already belonged to her. She had a reputation too — proud, bold, and a big bully to any girl she found even near Ah Jun❄️.
And one afternoon, she caught Miyu🍁 staring.
Na Ra stopped mid-step, a slow smirk crawling onto her face. She tilted her head, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.
"He's cute, right?"
Miyu🍁 blinked, instantly pulling her gaze away. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Na Ra laughed — not a friendly laugh, but one that echoed like a warning.
"Aiiish… you bitc—" she cut herself off, sighing dramatically. "My man. You were staring at my man. He's cute, right?"
Miyu🍁 said nothing this time, just gave her a look of disgust and tried to walk away.
But Na Ra wasn't done.
In one swift move, she shoved Miyu🍁 backward, grabbed the sleeve of her uniform, and yanked her closer.
Her eyes were sharp, her tone low and dangerous.
"If you knew me well, you wouldn't even breathe — not to talk of walking out on me. You're in the same class with him, right?"
She sighed again, almost lazily.
"I shouldn't even be having this conversation with you."
Then that smirk returned — sly and poisonous.
Na Ra straightened her uniform, tossed her hair, and strutted toward Ah Jun❄️.
She wrapped her arms around his, flashing Miyu🍁 a triumphant smile as if she had just claimed a prize.
Miyu🍁 stood frozen for a moment, her heart pounding, anger and something else twisting inside her. She hissed softly, clutching her books tightly to her chest.
As she walked back to class, she mumbled under her breath, "I'm not jealous. I'm not jealous. I don't like him. I don't like him…"
But even she didn't believe it.