Chapter Text
Seulgi didn’t know if she had looked at Joohyun far too many times for it to still be considered normal, or if the girl simply found her strange.
Either way, she had no explanation for how their eyes kept meeting, again and again, as if something invisible was quietly pulling their gazes together.
Sometimes she told herself it was just a coincidence. A classroom was small, after all. People naturally looked around. Eyes wandered without meaning to.
But then it would happen again.
And again.
And again.
And every single time, Seulgi felt that same quick jolt inside her chest.
Kang Seulgi was a new student.
For most of her life, she had lived among the crowded and restless streets of a large city. The streets that were always crowded, the sidewalks busy with people rushing past one another. Car horns echoed through the air, and convenience stores stayed open long after midnight.
Now her family had moved to the province.
The shift itself was not difficult for her. Seulgi was adaptable by nature, and there were only minor adjustments to make: quieter evenings, fewer towering buildings, slower mornings. Life moved at a different rhythm here, softer and less hurried.
But one thing stood out to her almost immediately.
The girls here were different.
Or maybe the word she was really looking for was attractive.
Too attractive.
Seulgi had always admired girls.
Even when she was young, she had this quiet habit of noticing them, how they talked, how they smiled, how they carried themselves. Any girl who happened to be near her somehow became worthy of admiration in Seulgi’s eyes.
To Seulgi, girls were simply fascinating.
Her first memory of it goes all the way back to when she was six.
She became close to an older girl who lived a few houses away. The girl had soft eyes, warm hands, and the kind of voice that always sounded kind. To Seulgi, she was the definition of what a cool older sister should be.
Then one day the girl moved away.
Even years later, Seulgi still talked about her sometimes. Whenever the memory surfaced, she would smile softly before realizing she still missed her.
Maybe that was the first time she realized how easily someone could stay in her thoughts.
When Seulgi transferred to a private school in the province, the environment felt completely different from the schools she had known before.
In her mind, private schools had always carried a certain image. They were places where students walked neatly in hallways, where uniforms were always crisp, where people behaved properly and spoke politely. Everything felt slightly more refined compared to the public schools she had attended all her life.
But one thing puzzled her.
Despite being a top student in her previous school, she was placed in the lowest section.
The decision confused her.
Perhaps it was simply protocol, a way for the school to observe new students first before deciding where they truly belonged. A way to test the waters.
If that was the case, Seulgi thought quietly to herself that she would probably prove she deserved better soon enough.
And she did.
She was never meant to stay in that section for long.
After maintaining her academic performance throughout the year, she was promoted. By the time ninth grade arrived, Seulgi found herself once again in the star section.
A new environment.
A new set of classmates.
A new set of expectations.
The first thing she noticed was the atmosphere.
Everyone here was sharp. Quick to answer questions. Quick to understand lessons.
It’s intimidating.
Even though Seulgi had been a top student before, the competition here felt heavier.
Her only comfort was that a few familiar classmates moved up alongside her. There were also other students who were just as new as she was, transferred from other sections. Knowing she wasn’t the only one adjusting helped, even if only a little.
But even with familiar faces around, one problem remained.
The class already had its own established groups.
First circle. Second circle. Third. Fourth. Fifth.
It felt like invisible borders existed around each cluster of desks. Everyone already belonged somewhere. Conversations flow naturally between people who had known each other for years.
For someone like Seulgi, someone whose mouth tends to stay quiet unless spoken to, walking into those circles felt nearly impossible.
Where exactly was she supposed to go?
Normally, that question would have bothered her a lot. She didn’t like the feeling of being alone in a crowded room.
But then there was the girl sitting three seats away from her.
That girl somehow kept stealing her attention.
At first, it’s simply curiosity.
Something about the girl felt familiar. She reminds Seulgi of someone she admired in her previous school.
Except this time…
This new girl was really, really cuter.
And prettier.
Her name was Joohyun.
Seulgi learned it casually one day during class introductions and side conversations drifting through the room.
Joohyun belonged to one of the most respected circles in the class. Even among a section already known for academic excellence, her circle stood out even more. Whenever a new instructor asked where the brightest students were seated, several classmates would casually point toward their area.
Seulgi soon realized the reputation wasn’t exaggerated.
Joohyun herself seemed effortlessly composed, someone who speaks when needed and listens carefully the rest of the time.
Sitting close to her allowed Seulgi to notice small details.
Joohyun has round cheeks that puff slightly whenever she laughed, making her look unexpectedly soft. But those moments were rare.
Most of the time she carried a calm, almost intimidating expression. A poker face that made her seem distant, maybe even unapproachable.
And yet somehow that contrast made her even more interesting.
Seulgi’s first real moment of embarrassment happened during English class.
Their instructor, apparently wanting to fill extra hours with something fun, announced an activity meant to help everyone bond.
They would work in pairs and present any talent they have.
For most students, it was simple enough.
For Seulgi, it was terrifying.
Because Seulgi ended up paired with an old classmate she already knew, it was somehow comforting.
Soon it was their turn.
Standing in front of the class, Seulgi felt the familiar tightness of stage fright creeping up her spine. Her palms grew warm and slightly damp. Her heartbeat became louder than the chatter in the room.
They began to sing.
The start was awkward. Their voices were soft and uncertain. To lighten the mood, they tried clapping to encourage the class to join in.
But the clapping quickly became louder than their singing until it completely drowned their singing. The instructor shushed the class.
Seulgi panicked.
She couldn’t just stare at the few familiar faces anymore, so she scanned the room quickly.
And her eyes landed on Joohyun.
Just for a second.
Maybe less.
But the moment felt strangely long.
Seulgi immediately looked away.
By the time they finish the song, her hands were sweaty and her heart was racing. As she returned to her seat, one thought lingered stubbornly in her mind.
Joohyun had been watching her, with an expression she couldn’t quite understand.
By the time their final year of junior high arrived, Seulgi had changed a little.
One year with the class was enough for her to loosen up. She became more comfortable joking around with her friends, doing silly things, and laughing loudly during breaks.
Sometimes she even wondered if she had become a little too carefree.
Because somewhere along the way, she started keeping mental notes.
Of every single time she and Joohyun locked eyes.
P.E. classes were always exhausting but fun.
They run drills, play games, and spend long minutes moving under the heat until everyone’s uniforms cling slightly to their skin. Returning to their air-conditioned classroom afterward feels like stepping into relief.
But after intense P.E. days, even the cold room wasn’t enough. Everyone drinks water, wipes sweat, and collapses into their seats.
One day, Seulgi and her friends realized their pants were making them feel warmer than necessary. So they start rolling them up to their knees. Soon it became a small habit during breaks.
Then on a random Friday, something caught Seulgi's attention.
Joohyun was doing it too.
She had never done it before, and neither had her friends. Only that particular afternoon. When Joohyun kept glancing in their direction, just often enough for Seulgi to notice. Her chest tightened slightly with the thought, and she found herself stealing quick glances back, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t.
Later that year, cadet graduation practice begins.
Seulgi, as part of the cadet group, spent weeks rehearsing routines. Sharp turns, synchronized steps, and precise commands that require complete focus.
More than half of the class had joined the cadets. Joohyun and her group were a few who had not.
During the day of ceremony, without anyone knowing, the entire senior batch gathered to watch the performance.
Seulgi told herself it would be fine.
Just follow the routine. Take pride on executing these difficult routines.
Everything went smoothly until the formation brings them directly in front of the seated students.
Then came the command to turn their heads in the students' direction.
Seulgi turned.
She wasn't meaning to.
Nearly a hundred students next to them.
Yet her eyes landed on a specific person.
Joohyun.
Looking directly at her.
Not at anyone in front of her or near her.
At her.
Joohyun who was fifteen feet away from her, was staring at her.
For a brief moment, their eyes locked.
This time Joohyun looked away first, forced by the duration of the head routine.
But that same unreadable expression remained.
And somehow, even after that moment..
Their glances continued to find each other.
As regional competitions approached, many teachers became busy coaching participants.
Teachers moved more quickly through the hallways, their conversations often filled with schedules, preparations, and the names of different school contenders. Advisers who handled multiple competitors were frequently called away from classes, and it so happened that nearly half of Seulgi’s instructors were directly involved in coaching.
Because of this, their class periods became unusual.
Instead of full lectures, they were often given advanced projects to complete on their own. Once instructions were given, the rest of the time was theirs to manage freely.
Some projects required software work, so a few students started bringing laptops to school. During long vacant periods, small clusters of classmates would gather around screens; typing, editing, or sometimes doing anything but the assigned tasks.
During one break, a group in the class decided to watch a movie.
They placed a laptop on one desk and pulled chairs around it, forming a small crowd. The only genre they seemed interested in was horror, which immediately discouraged several others from joining.
Seulgi was one of them.
She had never liked horror movies very much. The sudden sounds, the tense music, the exaggerated scares, it all felt unnecessarily stressful.
Joohyun, it turned out, wasn’t interested either.
Still, the movie quickly became the center of attention. Apparently it was a controversial one, the kind that had already been discussed by many students around the school.
And so, even the uninterested ones occasionally glanced at the screen.
Seulgi would sometimes lean slightly from her seat to take a quick peek. Other times she would hear someone whisper, “What just happened?” followed by a dramatic explanation from the people actually watching.
But despite the casual atmosphere, there was something else lingering quietly in the room.
A strange tension.
Not loud.
Not obvious.
Just… present.
Seulgi noticed that Joohyun, too would occasionally walk toward the group watching the movie, perhaps curious for a moment. And every time she did, Seulgi’s eyes would automatically drift toward her.
Then Joohyun would turn around to return to her seat.
And every time that happened, Seulgi would quickly look away, just in case Joohyun happened to glance back.
It happened once.
Then twice.
Then a third time.
By the third time, Seulgi stopped herself completely, realizing how embarrassing it would be if she got caught staring so obviously.
She forced herself to focus on something else for several minutes. Chatting, hugging her friend.
Surely enough time had passed.
Surely everyone was doing something different by now.
So she allowed herself one quick look again.
Only to find Joohyun already looking at her.
Winter holidays were always the most exciting part of the school year.
The mornings became colder, the air sharper against the skin. Decorations slowly appeared in the hallways, paper snowflakes taped to classroom doors and windows, strands of colored lights draped along railings, a small artificial Christmas tree standing proudly near the office.
Classes felt lighter somehow, filled with the quiet anticipation of celebrations and school programs, as if everyone was counting down the days until the holidays.
That year, their class was given a responsibility none of them expected.
They would organize the school’s Christmas concert.
Originally, it had simply been a project for their arts subject, a small performance to present in class. But their instructor, along with several members of the faculty, decided to expand the idea into something bigger.
Instead of a simple classroom activity, it would become an actual holiday program.
The faculty would barely help with the preparations. The entire event would be organized and executed completely by the students themselves.
The plan quickly developed.
There would be songs.
There would be dances.
There would even be short plays.
Every student in the class had to participate somehow, either as a performer or as part of the technical team managing the music, stage, and transitions.
Seulgi and her group immediately chose dancing. None of them could sing very well, and acting in plays sounded far more stressful than fun. Dancing, at least, felt lively and energetic.
They weren’t wrong. Every time they practiced with Christmas music playing through the speakers, the atmosphere became brighter. Laughter echoed around the practice space as they tried to synchronize their steps.
Little by little, the entire program took shape.
Gradually, everyone in the class memorized not only their own roles but everyone else’s too. After weeks of rehearsals, everyone knew the order of performances by heart. They could predict which song came next, which group would run onstage, which friend would inevitably forget a line.
By the time the final week arrived, actual classes barely happened anymore. Everything revolved around the concert.
And somewhere along the way, Seulgi forgot something very important.
She was going to dance in front of the whole school. Not just her class. The whole school. And to make things worse, or perhaps more noticeable, she was positioned in the front row because she was one of the shorter members.
Finally, the day of the concert arrived.
For their class, it felt like the culmination of weeks of effort. Despite occasional disagreements and misunderstandings during rehearsals, everyone had worked hard to bring the program together.
Now it was time to see if it would actually succeed.
Students began filling the gymnasium one by one. Rows of chairs were arranged neatly across the floor, and students poured in from every grade level until nearly every seat was occupied. The hum of conversation echoed through the space as people waited for the program to begin.
Seulgi tried to calm herself. She had done something like this before, the cadet routine. Just perform what you practiced. And it will be over quickly.
Of course, there was one more detail she couldn’t ignore.
Joohyun would be somewhere in the audience.
Joohyun’s group had chosen not to perform in the concert. Instead, they were focused on managing technical aspects of the show, music cues, equipment, stage support.
About three performances before her group’s turn, Seulgi quietly tried to figure out where Joohyun might be watching from.
Would they stand near the back? Maybe sit along the stairs? Or step outside the gym entirely during their time?
Eventually she spotted them near the side of the venue. Seeing them there made her relax slightly. If they stayed there, the distance might make performing easier.
She was wrong.
When it was finally time for her group to go on stage, Seulgi climbed the steps with the others and took her position.
The music started. They began dancing.
Muscle memory took over. Weeks of practice guided her movements automatically, step, turn, clap, spin. The rhythm carried her forward, and the nervous energy slowly melted into excitement.
She smiled. Actually smiled. For a moment, she forgot the crowd entirely.
Then, without thinking, she glanced down from the stage.
And her heart nearly skipped.
Joohyun and her group were no longer standing at the side.
They were sitting in the front row.
Right in front of the stage.
When did they start sitting there?
Seulgi’s eyes immediately found Joohyun.
And Joohyun was already looking at her.
Not casually.
Not by accident.
Watching.
Completely focused on her.
For a split second, Seulgi’s confidence faltered. Just like the cadet ceremony, she tried focusing on her steps.
Except Joohyun didn’t break eye contact this time. This time there was even the faintest hint of a smile on her face.
Seulgi felt her self-consciousness spike sharply, rising higher than it ever had before. But she forced herself not to get distracted.
This was supposed to be a fun event. A celebration.
So instead of shrinking away from the moment, she leaned into the performance even more, giving brighter smiles, bigger movements, more energy.
As the final part of the dance approached and their group moved closer to the front edge of the stage, Seulgi felt something unexpected replacing her nervousness.
Confidence.
Their choreography finished cleanly. The music faded and applause followed. Standing there with her group, Seulgi suddenly felt grateful, and genuinely happy, that all the hard work they had put into the performance had paid off.
The applause slowly faded as the next group prepared to take the stage.
Seulgi stepped down from the platform with the rest of her classmates, her heartbeat still uneven from the performance. The brightness of the stage lights was gone now, replaced by the familiar noise of the gymnasium, students talking, chairs shifting, music cues being tested somewhere near the speakers.
Her friends gathered around her, laughing as they replayed parts of the dance and the small mistakes they had noticed along the way. Seulgi smiled along with them, the lingering excitement of the performance still warm in her chest.
But without realizing it, her eyes drifted toward the front row again.
Joohyun was still there.
From where Seulgi stood, she could see her sitting with the same group she was always with. Her expression had already returned to its usual calm composure, the quiet, unreadable look Seulgi had grown used to seeing during class.
Seulgi looked away almost immediately.
For a brief moment, she wondered if Joohyun had really been watching her that closely earlier. Or if she had simply imagined it. The thought lingered for only a second before she dismissed it.
There was no particular reason for Joohyun to pay that much attention to her.
Still, their eyes had met again.
Just like they always seemed to.
Seulgi turned her attention back to her friends as the program continued, but the small thought remained somewhere in the back of her mind.
If she tried to remember carefully, she could probably count many moments like that.
Small ones.
Quick ones.
Moments that lasted only a second before one of them looked away.
During P.E. classes.
During ceremonies.
During quiet class periods when everyone was supposed to be focused on their work.
Even during ordinary days when nothing unusual was happening at all.
For some reason, their eyes simply kept finding each other.
Again.
And again.
And again.
It had been happening for almost a year already.
At first, Seulgi thought it was nothing more than coincidence. A classroom was small, and people naturally looked around. It was normal for gazes to cross sometimes.
But after a while, she began to notice the pattern.
Not enough to question it too deeply. Not enough to talk about it with anyone. Just enough for it to stay quietly in her thoughts.
Whenever it happened, Seulgi reacted the same way. She looked away first. Pretended she hadn’t noticed, and convinced herself it didn’t mean anything.