Monday came with a drizzle and pale skies, as if the weather itself was shy to begin the week.
Class 2-3 buzzed softly as students prepared their art presentations. Some were nervously shuffling their papers, others checking if their glue still stuck. The scent of markers, paper, and faint morning rain drifted through the open windows.
Daewon stared at his desk, where his and Aera's project folder sat neatly stacked - their umbrella story captured in sketches and short captions. He had read it at least three times that morning.
"You okay?" Seungho leaned over, smirking. "You've been blinking at that thing like it's a love letter."
Daewon elbowed him. "Shut up."
But the truth was - it felt like one.
From Aera's handwriting on the captions, to the little watercolors she painted in the margins. It wasn't just a school project. It was something shared.
Across the room, Aera was tying her hair back. She caught Daewon's glance and gave him a small nod.
It was nothing flashy. Just a nod.
But it made his heart trip over itself.
Mrs. Kim clapped her hands twice. "Alright, class! Presentations begin now. Groups one through three, let's go!"
A series of mildly chaotic presentations followed - one involving a drawing of a cat that looked suspiciously like a potato, and another group where the duo spent more time arguing than explaining.
Laughter spread through the classroom, easing some of the nerves. Daewon and Aera were group five.
"Next up," Mrs. Kim announced, adjusting her glasses. "Kang Daewon and Yoo Aera."
Daewon stood first, heart thumping.
Aera joined him at the front, holding the visual board.
Their story unfolded slowly.
It wasn't loud or dramatic.
It was quiet.
Just like them.
Daewon explained their concept - "Rain doesn't always mean sadness. Sometimes it's just the sky showing its feelings."
Aera added how the umbrella became a symbol - "of comfort, of protection, and of small kindnesses that stay with you, even if you forget the name."
There was a hush in the classroom as they flipped to the final page - the sketch of the blue umbrella, a silhouette of a boy and girl sitting beneath it.
Daewon's voice came softer now.
"…Sometimes, you don't remember the face. Just the feeling."
A beat.
Aera glanced at him, something shining behind her eyes.
"And sometimes… the feeling finds its way back."
Silence.
Mrs. Kim cleared her throat, smiling.
"Well then," she said. "That was unexpectedly poetic."
Giggles rippled across the room. Seungho muttered something about "secret poets hiding in plain sight."
As they walked back to their seats, Daewon whispered, "We did okay, right?"
Aera smiled. "We did more than okay."
During lunch break, their classmates clustered around, praising their art. Someone even asked Daewon to draw their dog. Aera blushed quietly under the attention but stayed near him.
Then came the comedy.
In a moment of cosmic timing, Seungho tripped over his own shoelace while dramatically reenacting Daewon's umbrella scene and crashed into a potted plant. The whole class burst into laughter, including Mrs. Kim, who wiped tears from her eyes.
"You're banned from acting," Daewon told him, grinning.
"I'm banned from living," Seungho moaned from the floor.
Even Aera laughed - really laughed, hand over her mouth, eyes bright. Daewon caught the sound and felt something warm press into his chest again.
Later, as school ended and students filed out with chatter, Daewon found Aera at the lockers again.
"Thanks," he said, voice low.
"For what?" she asked, tilting her head.
"For doing this with me. I… don't really do this kind of thing well."
Aera paused, then handed him a folded note.
"I drew something. For you."
He opened it. A tiny sketch of a boy holding an umbrella - this time with a girl beside him, smiling.
Underneath, in soft handwriting:
"Thank you for waiting with me."
Daewon looked up, lips parting.
"…You remember?"
Aera smiled, eyes shy but certain.
"Not everything," she whispered. "But enough."
The rain had stopped outside. Only the scent of wet leaves lingered in the air.
The final bell rang, a soft chime that echoed through the halls of Haneul Middle School. Students spilled out of classrooms like slow waves, chatting, stretching, yawning. The day had passed in a blur after their presentation, but for Daewon, everything felt strangely hushed - like he was underwater, and the only thing clear was her.
He slung his bag over his shoulder and waited near the shoe lockers. Aera appeared a minute later, tucking her hair behind her ear as she stepped into her sneakers. She looked up and gave him the smallest smile.
"Going home?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said, voice softer than usual. "You?"
She nodded. "Let's walk together."
Outside, the air was cool with a hint of lingering sunshine. Cherry blossom petals clung to the school fence, the wind just gentle enough to make them drift like slow confetti.
They walked in silence for a while, their steps in quiet rhythm. Aera held her bag in both hands, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the strap. Daewon kept stealing glances - at her hair glowing in the light, the curve of her cheek, the way she occasionally bit her lower lip when deep in thought.
He wanted to say something. Anything.
"You were really good today," he finally blurted out.
Aera blinked, then looked at him, surprised. "Huh?"
"Your part. When you spoke about the rain and the umbrella - it sounded like a real story. Not just something we made up."
Her ears turned pink. "I just... tried to remember how I felt."
Daewon slowed his steps. "How you felt?"
Aera glanced at him, her voice quiet. "That day. When it rained. And you were there."
A pause. A beat too long. Then -
"I remember too," Daewon said.
The wind stirred again. A petal landed in Aera's hair, near her temple. Without thinking, Daewon reached up and gently brushed it away, his fingers brushing her hair.
She froze. So did he.
Their eyes met. For a moment, the street disappeared - the cars, the voices, even the sound of wind - and it was just them, standing in the golden hush of after-school light.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Aera looked down, and a shy smile touched her lips. "You missed one," she whispered, pointing to her hair again.
Daewon laughed, nervous. "I'll charge a fee next time."
"Oh?" she tilted her head. "What kind?"
He hesitated, then dared to say, "Maybe… a thank you drink? From the vending machine?"
Aera gave him a long look, then turned away - smiling. "We'll see."
They kept walking, footsteps light.
Behind them, two petals floated down, settling side by side on the quiet sidewalk.
And as they parted ways at the corner near the bakery, both of them glanced back at the same time - eyes locking for just a heartbeat before they turned away again, hearts quietly louder than before.
[Later That Night – Line Chat]
Daewon lay in bed, blanket pulled to his chin, the hum of the city faint behind the windows. His phone glowed beside him, and for a moment he just stared at the empty chat with Aera, thumb hovering.
Then -
> Daewon: Thanks for walking home with me.
A few seconds later, the typing dots appeared.
> Aera: Thanks for brushing the petal out of my hair. I didn't notice it was there.
He smiled to himself.
> Daewon: I almost didn't, either. But it looked nice on you.
The dots stopped. Then started again.
> Aera: I think today was one of those quiet days that feel like a secret. A little warm, a little strange. But good.
His heart thudded softly.
> Daewon: Yeah. Like a day I'll want to remember.
There was a pause. Then one last message from her:
> Aera: Me too. Sleep well, Daewon.
> Daewon: You too, Aera.
He locked his phone with a small breathless smile, like someone holding a gift he wasn't sure he deserved. And as sleep pulled at the edges of his thoughts, one quiet truth echoed through his chest:
He was thinking of her.
And maybe - just maybe - she was thinking of him, too.