The countryside always smelled like wet soil and disappointment.
Doha Rin walked along the narrow dirt road, her school bag hanging by a single tired strap. Her pitch-black hair fell like a curtain, swallowing all sunlight. To strangers, she looked cold, distant.
To people who knew her — which was basically no one — she was loud, chaotic, and deeply funny.
But the world didn't get to see that part.
Her father made sure of it.
A fresh bruise throbbed on her upper arm. She kept her sleeve pulled down so no one would ask.
She liked school. It was the only place where nobody shouted.
She was halfway to the gate when she noticed a small crowd. Students formed a circle near the bicycle stand, whispering, laughing.
Doha didn't care… until she heard a girl's voice — sharp, scared.
"Let me go! I said let go!"
Doha froze. That wasn't the usual countryside accent. The tone was crisp, refined… city-like.
She pushed through the crowd.
There she saw her.
A girl with golden hair so shiny it looked unreal under the morning sun, eyes pale blue like winter ocean water. Her uniform looked brand new, her shoes too clean for this place.
She definitely didn't belong here.
Three older boys surrounded her, grinning.
"City princess lost her way?" one mocked.
"Touch me again and I'll—" the girl warned, but her voice shook.
Doha didn't think. Her body moved on its own.
"Hey," she said, stepping inside the circle. "Leave her."
The boys turned around.
"Oh look, it's the haunted mansion girl," one snorted. "Rin the silent freak."
Doha didn't speak. She just stared with those soulless black eyes of hers — the ones that scared most people away.
One boy tried to push her shoulder.
Doha grabbed his wrist, twisted, and he yelped.
"You— psycho!" he shouted, backing off.
The others hesitated, muttering curses, then left.
The crowd dispersed quickly.
The golden-haired girl stared at Doha as if she were something unreal.
"you just saved me," she said softly. "Thank you."
Doha scratched her cheek, avoiding eye contact. "It's nothing."
"No, it's not nothing."
The girl stepped closer, smiling — a warm, bright smile Doha wasn't used to.
"I'm Serin. I just transferred here today."
Doha blinked. "Okay."
Serin laughed. "Okay? That's all you say after saving me?"
Doha's lips twitched — the closest thing she ever had to a smile.
Serin noticed it like it was a miracle.
"Doha Rin, right?" Serin asked.
Doha froze. "How do you know?"
"I heard the teacher calling your name earlier."
Then she lowered her voice.
"You… don't really talk to anyone, do you?"
"No."
Serin didn't look scared. She didn't back away. Instead, she leaned in, studying Doha's expression.
"Well," Serin said, brushing her golden hair back, "I'd like to be your friend."
Doha's heart made a strange jump.
"…Why?"
"Because," Serin said, smiling again, "you look like someone who needs one."
Doha didn't know what to say.
Her chest felt strangely warm — unfamiliar, terrifying, good.
For the first time in a long time…
she didn't feel completely alone.