If anyone had told me back then that the cold, teasing girl I met on my first day of college would one day hold me the way she does now, I wouldn't have believed them.
But that was where it all began.
---
The First Day
The morning had been colder than I expected. The sky was bright, but the air carried a chill that slipped under my uniform sleeves as I stood at the gates of the campus.
The building loomed tall and intimidating, glass windows catching the sun, students swarming in and out like currents of water. My heart pounded with every step I took closer.
New school. New faces. New rules.
I told myself I would walk quietly to my class, find an empty seat, and stay out of trouble. No need for anyone to notice me.
That plan lasted all of two minutes.
Because the moment I stopped in the crowded hallway to check my map, I felt it—the weight of someone's gaze.
"Move."
The voice was flat, not loud, but sharp enough to slice through the noise around me.
I turned.
That was the first time I saw her.
---
Shin Soo-min.
She stood with one hand in her pocket, the other holding her phone loosely. Her uniform looked effortless on her, tie slightly loose, shirt collar open. She wasn't smiling, but her dark eyes were steady, assessing, as if she could see right through me.
Cold. Untouchable.
I panicked, stepping aside too quickly. "S-sorry!"
Her eyes flicked over me once, unimpressed. Then, with a faint scoff, she walked past, her steps slow but confident, like she owned the hallway.
I should have been relieved. But something about her lingered—the way she didn't even need to raise her voice to command space, the way she looked like she belonged everywhere and nowhere at once.
I clutched my bag tighter and hurried to class, trying to shake off the strange flutter in my chest.
---
Settling In
By the end of the day, I had met two girls in my homeroom who felt safe, almost like anchors.
Hye-jin was the loud one—quick to talk, quick to laugh, and quicker to complain about the professor's handwriting. Mirae, who sat beside her, was her opposite—quiet, composed, with a soft smile that rarely left her lips.
They included me naturally, asking about my high school, sharing snacks during the break. By lunch, I was sitting with them in the cafeteria, trying not to feel out of place.
That was when another girl appeared.
"Is this seat taken?"
She didn't wait for an answer before plopping her tray down. Her name was Yura—bright eyes, fast talker, the kind of person who could make friends with a wall if she tried. She started chatting about the long lunch line, her favorite desserts, the terrible parking space outside, all before I could even nod.
And somehow, that was how we became five.
But not yet. Not until she showed up again.
---
When Soo-min Joins the Group
It was the second week of classes when I noticed her again.
I was walking out of the library when a group of boys accidentally bumped into me, almost knocking my books to the floor. Before I could even mutter a word, a sharp voice cut through the air.
"Watch it."
It was her. Shin Soo-min.
Her eyes narrowed at the boys, cold and sharp enough to make them mutter apologies and scatter. I froze, clutching my books, unsure what to say.
She glanced at me once, her expression unreadable. Then she walked away, not waiting for thanks.
That was her "fairy side," though I didn't know it then. Helping without caring about the credit. Caring without showing it.
The next day, she appeared at our cafeteria table. Not asking. Just sitting.
Hye-jin frowned. "Who said you could—"
"Your voices are too loud," Soo-min said coolly, sliding her tray down.
Hye-jin gawked. "Excuse me?"
Mirae quietly nudged her. Yura just laughed, delighted by the chaos.
I stayed silent, heart pounding. Why was she sitting here? Out of all the empty seats, why here?
She didn't talk much, just ate slowly, occasionally glancing up with those sharp eyes. Everyone else seemed uneasy, like she carried a storm in her silence.
Except me. For some reason, I wasn't afraid. Nervous, yes. Flustered, definitely. But not scared.
And maybe she noticed.
---
The First Tease
It happened a week later.
I had been telling Mirae about my part-time job, fumbling with words as always. When I finished, there was a pause. And then—
"You always stutter like that?"
My head snapped up. Soo-min was leaning across the table, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at her lips.
"I—I wasn't stuttering—"
"You were." Her smirk deepened. "Cute."
My face burst into flames. Hye-jin choked on her drink, Mirae hid a small smile, and Yura squealed like she'd just seen something scandalous.
I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. But Soo-min leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with herself, like teasing me had just made her day.
That was the first time she flustered me.
And it was far from the last.
---
The Group Dynamic
Over the months, our group of five settled into a rhythm.
Hye-jin and Mirae became inseparable, balancing each other out perfectly—fire and calm. Yura was the spark of chaos, always chattering and dragging us into things.
And Soo-min…
Soo-min was the unpredictable one.
Sometimes, she was cold and quiet, scaring people with just a look. Once, when a classmate tried to spread a rumor about Yura, Soo-min confronted them in the hallway. I didn't hear what she said, but I saw the boy pale and avoid our group forever after. That was her "evil side." Ruthless, protective, and terrifying.
But then there were moments when she carried Mirae's heavy books without being asked. Or when she bought Hye-jin's favorite snack after she failed a test. Or when she brushed an invisible thread off my shoulder and whispered, "Careful, clumsy."
Those were the moments that stayed with me. The moments that made me wonder if there was something softer beneath her armor.
---
A Glimpse of Softness
One evening, we all stayed late for a group project. The classroom was empty except for us. Hye-jin was ranting about a stubborn math problem, Mirae was quietly working through notes, and Yura was singing off-key in the corner.
I was struggling to stay awake, my head nearly hitting the desk.
"Sleepy?"
The voice was low, close. I blinked and found Soo-min leaning over me, her smirk softer this time, her eyes searching mine.
"I—no, I'm fine—"
"Lie," she said simply.
I froze. She could always tell.
She didn't tease further. Instead, she slid her water bottle toward me. "Drink."
I stared, speechless. By the time I whispered a thank you, she had already turned back to her notes, as if nothing had happened.
But my heart didn't calm for hours.
---
Where It Began
Looking back now, I see it clearly.
The teasing. The smirks. The moments when her coldness cracked, just for me. The way she scared everyone else but somehow, I was never truly afraid of her.
That was where it all began.
The story of Shin Soo-min and me.