Kim Beom-soo's POV
The lunch bell rang, echoing through the classroom like a signal to escape.
Another break already?
I sighed softly and leaned back in my chair, watching as the room stirred to life. Desks scraped against the floor, laughter buzzed in low hums, and students began filing out like birds loosed from a cage.
Tae-min slung his bag over his shoulder and turned toward me with that same careless grin.
"Hey, Beom-soo. We're heading to the convenience store. You want anything?"
I looked at him, then at Do-won and Nam-woo who were already waiting at the door, bantering about ramen flavors and iced drinks.
"The usual," I said flatly. "Something light."
Tae-min nodded. "Got it."
And just like that, they left.
I didn't follow. I never really did.
---
As the room emptied, I turned my head instinctively—and there he was.
Lee Han-jae.
Sitting alone by the window, one hand on his cheek, eyes half-lidded like he hadn't slept in days. He wasn't scrolling through his phone. Wasn't talking to anyone. Just... existing, like the noise of the world didn't touch him.
I stood before I could stop myself. My feet moved even before my brain caught up.
I walked over and stopped in front of him.
"Hey," I said.
He blinked once, slowly, raising his gaze to mine.
"You're alone?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Aren't you eating?"
Han-jae shrugged lightly, his voice low and a little rough. "I'm not that hungry."
He sounded tired. Worn out. Like someone who carried things quietly until they started to dig into the skin.
I hesitated for a moment, then scratched the back of my neck. "Wanna be friends?"
The words came out more awkward than I intended. I wasn't great at this kind of thing. But... it felt better to try than to keep pretending I didn't notice him.
He studied me, unreadable for a beat, then gave a small nod.
"Okay."
I blinked, surprised it was that easy.
Without thinking too hard about it, I slid into the seat beside him.
---
We started talking—about games, of course. That was safer. Familiar.
He played the same RPG I did. Even used the same class. Shadow assassin. High-speed, high-damage, low-defense. Risky. Complex. The kind of character you needed patience to master.
"I maxed out the crit build," he said, eyes a little brighter. "But the dodge timing is brutal."
"You rely too much on reflex," I said. "Try the phantom cloak upgrade. It gives you an extra second."
Han-jae glanced at me with something almost like amusement.
"You memorize all the stats?"
"Only the useful ones."
That made him laugh—quiet and short, but it felt real.
It caught me off guard.
For someone so guarded, his laugh was warm.
---
We kept talking. About raid bosses. Secret dungeons. Trash teammates in matchmaking. The kind of conversations that made time pass without you noticing.
It didn't feel forced.
It didn't feel like the usual pressure to fill space.
It just was.
By the time the door opened again, I'd forgotten how much time had passed.
---
Tae-min walked in first, followed by Do-won and Nam-woo, all holding plastic bags and canned drinks.
The moment Tae-min saw us—me and Han-jae sitting side by side, heads slightly tilted toward each other—his smile froze.
He didn't say anything at first. But his eyes lingered too long.
I stood up to help them unpack the bags. There were extra sandwiches and drinks—probably because Do-won always overestimated how hungry he'd be.
I picked up an extra one and turned to Han-jae.
"Here," I offered. "Try this one. It's the chicken mayo—"
Before he could take it, Tae-min reached over and snatched it right out of my hand.
"I'll eat that," he said coolly, already opening the wrapper. "I'm starving."
I frowned. "There's more—"
"Yeah, but I want this one," he cut in, without looking at Han-jae. "You always order the good stuff."
Han-jae didn't say anything.
Neither did I, for a second.
Then I turned, peeled open the sandwich I had kept for myself, and tore it in half.
"Here," I said, holding out half to Han-jae. "Take it."
He hesitated, but eventually took it, fingers brushing mine for a split second.
"Thanks," he murmured.
I sat back beside him.
We ate in silence, but something about it felt... easy. Shared. Familiar.
Across the room, Tae-min sat stiffly on the edge of a desk, chewing without speaking, watching us from the corner of his eye.
He didn't smile again.
---
It wasn't a big moment.
Just half a sandwich, a quiet conversation, and a choice.
But I could feel it shift something.
Between me and Han-jae.
Between me and Tae-min.
And maybe even inside myself.
The bell rang—sharp and final.
Lunch was over. Just like that.
I watched Han-jae finish the last bite of the sandwich half I gave him. He didn't speak, just wiped his fingers with the corner of the wrapper and glanced at me once, as if to say thanks without saying it.
I didn't need the words.
We returned to our seats, and a moment later, the classroom door creaked open.
Our teacher walked in, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve and slapping a stack of papers onto the desk like it had personally offended him.
The class stilled. Bags zipped shut. Phones disappeared. Quiet settled in.
Then—
Out of nowhere, a soft voice started singing from the middle row.
> "It's a beautiful liiiife—ooooohh—"
Heads turned.
I blinked.
The voice cracked at the high note, and that's when we realized—
It was Ahn Min-joon.
The guy had been humming to himself, lost in thought, probably still stuck on whatever K-drama OST he heard at lunch—and completely unaware that he was doing it aloud.
The room burst into muffled laughter.
Even I couldn't help the smirk.
Han-jae—silent beside me—lowered his head to hide a short laugh behind his hand.
Min-joon froze mid-line, realizing his mistake.
His entire face turned bright red, ears and all, like a tomato hit by a heatwave.
The teacher raised an eyebrow, half-laughing himself.
"What's going on here?"
Min-joon didn't answer.
He just slumped in his seat, mumbling something that sounded like a dying apology. The teacher didn't push it. The rest of us returned to pretending we weren't about to explode into laughter again.
---
Classes dragged on after that, each hour longer than the last.
But eventually, the final bell rang.
Another day done.
We packed up slowly, the classroom buzzing again with low chatter. Chairs scraped. Zippers zipped. Backpacks slung over shoulders.
I walked out with the others—Tae-min, Han-jae, Do-won, and Nam-woo. It wasn't planned. It just happened that way.
The corridor was crowded but strangely quiet. Afternoon sun leaked in through the windows, making the air warm and thick with laziness.
That's when I felt it.
That tingle.
The odd awareness that someone was just a few steps too close.
Not enough to be obvious.
But enough to feel like something was off.
I glanced over my shoulder once.
A few girls passed by. Some guys laughing behind us. No one unusual.
But the feeling stayed.
Was someone following us?
Or... me?
Or Han-jae?
Could be Do-won. Or Nam-woo. Or even Tae-min.
I didn't know.
So I shrugged it off and kept walking, telling myself not to be paranoid.
---
The next morning, I heard something during homeroom.
Nam-woo, as usual, was talking too loud near the back of the class.
> "Yeah, my sister saw Han-jae yesterday when she came to drop off my charger. She said he looked cool or something—now she won't stop asking about him."
Someone whistled. Another laughed.
> "So she has a crush already?"
"That fast?"
"Isn't she, like, a year younger?"
I paused mid-note in my notebook.
So... that's what it was?
The shadow behind us yesterday. The too-close footsteps.
It was her?
Nam-woo's sister?
I didn't ask. I didn't comment.
But my eyes flickered toward Han-jae.
He didn't seem to be paying attention. His face was as unreadable as ever, chin in hand, staring out the window.
Still, something cold settled in my chest.
I wasn't sure why.
---
Han-jae wasn't even mine.
We weren't dating. We weren't close.
But the thought of someone else watching him from the shadows—
I didn't like it.
And maybe that meant something I wasn't ready to admit yet.