That night, Dahlia lay on her bed in her new room—neat, silent, unfamiliar.
The house felt too big, too orderly, too distant from the warmth of her grandmother's garden.
She pulled the blankets tighter and stared at the faint glow of the moon outside her window.
But instead of loneliness, her mind kept drifting back to him.
The boy at the aquarium.
The boy whose green eyes shone like glass reflecting water.
The boy who returned the thing she valued most in the world.
"Seo Jaemin…" she whispered to herself.
"That boy… he was really him."
She pressed the pendant to her chest.
It felt strange how seeing him again made her heart flutter—warm, nervous, but not unpleasant.
She reached for her sewing kit, thinking of a way to thank him properly for returning her necklace. Something meaningful, but not too much.
Her fingers moved carefully, threading the needle with red wool.
A scarf.
A simple one, warm and soft.
She embroidered small initials at the end:
J.S.
Her quiet smile returned.
"It's the least I can do…"
--------------
After school, Dahlia passed by the school gym
out of curiosity.
The sound of rhythmic thuds—feet striking mats, fists hitting pads—echoed through the hallway.
She peeked through the small glass window.
There he was.
Jaemin.
Focused. Controlled. Moving with such precision and power that for a moment, she forgot to breathe.
Next to him stood his coach—tall, broad-shouldered, and sharp-eyed—Han Insung.
A long-time friend of Jaemin's father since their military service days, and a respected martial arts instructor in Haerang.
Coach Insung nodded as Jaemin executed a perfect turning kick.
"That's it. Keep your guard up."
Dahlia found herself smiling softly.
"Wow…"
This side of him—determined, disciplined—made her admire him even more.
But she walked away quietly, not wanting to disturb.
---
The following day, she gathered her courage and approached him after class.
"Jaemin?"
He turned, instantly flustered. "Y-Yes?"
She held out the red scarf, folded neatly between her hands.
"This is for you."
He blinked. "For… me?"
"For returning my necklace," she said, her voice gentle.
"It means everything to me. So… thank you."
Jaemin shook his head quickly.
"Dahlia, this is too much. I didn't really— I mean, anyone would've returned it—"
"But you did return it," she interrupted softly.
She then touched the pendant around her neck.
"My grandmother gave this to me before she passed. It's the last gift she ever placed in my hands. Losing it felt like losing her all over again."
Her voice trembled slightly.
Jaemin's expression softened.
"I… didn't know."
"That's why a simple 'thank you' didn't feel enough," she smiled faintly.
"So please… accept it."
After a moment of hesitation, he took the scarf, holding it as though it were made of glass.
"…I'll take care of it," he said quietly.
Her smile widened.
---
Dahlia joined the school's music club the same week.
One afternoon, she stayed in the empty music room, practicing a violin piece her grandmother loves to listen.
Her soft notes drifted down the hallway.
Jaemin, on his way to practice, stopped by the door.
He didn't interrupt.
He just… listened.
She noticed him only when she finished.
"Oh—were you waiting for someone?"
"No," he smiled, scratching his cheek. "I was… um… listening. You play really well."
Color warmed her cheeks.
From then on, Jaemin often stayed quietly in the music room while Dahlia practiced.
And Dahlia, in return, sometimes visited the gym to watch him train.
One afternoon, she finally admitted shyly:
"I want to learn the basics… if you don't mind teaching me."
His eyes widened. "Me?"
She nodded.
Coach Insung, overhearing them, chuckled.
"Well, since you're asking, Jaemin is one of the best students I've trained. He'll teach you well."
Thus, after school, they began training together in Coach Insung's personal gym outside campus—just the three of them.
And slowly… very slowly…
Their worlds started blending.
Later that evening, Jaemin and Dahlia walked to Coach Insung's gym for a short training session.
They were practicing footwork, Dahlia concentrating hard on her steps while Jaemin guided her.
Coach Insung prepared gear on the shelves, humming quietly.
Everything felt normal.
Warm.
Safe.
Until Insung's phone rang.
He frowned at the screen—unknown number.
"Hello…? Yes, this is he."
Silence.
Then his expression changed—drained of color entirely.
"…What?"
Jaemin paused mid-step, sensing something wrong.
"Coach?"
Insung's voice trembled.
"Jaemin… you need to sit down."
Dahlia felt her chest tighten.
"What happened…?" Jaemin whispered.
Insung swallowed, struggling for strength.
"Your parents…
Their car… on the highway…"
A breath.
"A collision with a truck."
Jaemin froze.
"No… no, Coach… they're fine, right? They're fine—right?!"
Insung's eyes filled with sorrow.
"I'm so sorry."
Dahlia covered her mouth, tears rushing instantly.
The world around Jaemin collapsed into silence.
His knees gave out.
And Dahlia, without thinking, caught him—
holding him as his entire world shattered.
Fate had woven their threads together gently…
But tonight, fate pulled hard.
And nothing would ever be the same again.