JU MIN JI

Love cannot be measured in numbers, yet for me, it is. But why? Why only for me? I don’t know whether it is a curse or a blessing. All I ever wanted was to live an ordinary life, but as they say, an ordinary life is the hardest thing to obtain. And I am not special enough to have it—only cursed enough to carry this kind of power, a power that never lets me truly be myself.

“Minji, what are you looking at?”

“I’m Sol,” she said, staring at the sky.

“Mm… nothing,” I laughed softly.

“Come on, let’s go to class,” she said, taking my hand.

“Don’t you think you’re weird sometimes? Always so lost in yourself?”

She reached out, touched my forehead, and laughed before pulling her hand away.

“Let’s go,” I said, and she nodded.

I met Im Sol when I first joined the school in ninth grade. She was my only true friend—the one who stayed even when I barely spoke. She was one of the most popular students in our school. Almost everyone had a crush on her because of her looks and her grades. Not only boys admired her; girls wanted to be her friend too.

I never understood why, out of everyone, she chose me. She had so many people around her, yet she always made sure to look out for me.

I don’t feel left out—but sadly, when I look in the mirror, I see how different I am from her. Disappointment fills my face when I see my love points, reminding me that no one truly loves me, except my best friend and my brother. Out of my twelve points, most belong to Im Sol. One belongs to my brother.

But there is one love point that remains a mystery.

It existed even before I met Im Sol—or before I saved Ri Sook’s life, after which he started liking me enough to give me one point. I don’t think about it much anymore, but it appeared just after I walked into this class. It has been three years since then, and my points have never increased again.

In truth, I have the lowest love points I have ever seen in anyone. Sometimes, I dream of dying in a terrible accident, and somehow those dreams are always connected to my love points. These dreams only started after I joined this school.

One day, someone unknown starts sending me messages. Since then, it regularly sends me messages, warning me to increase my love points—or I will die. I never dared to show it to anyone. If I did, my secret ability to see everyone’s love points would be exposed to the world. That fear is why I stay quiet, hidden, far from everyone’s eyes.

Sometimes, someone actually tries to kill me—but it always fails. Recently, the messages have stopped. And whenever that happens, something dangerous always follows, like a silent threat closing in on me.

I tried increasing my love points by talking to Im Sol’s friends, hoping it would help.

But nothing changed.

Just like always.

No matter how hard I tried, the numbers above my head remained painfully still.

I learned to stop expecting miracles.

At school, I blended into the background, existing quietly beside Im Sol’s brightness. People smiled at her, called her name, waited for her attention. I stood just a step behind, invisible enough to be forgotten, visible enough to be pitied.

And yet, I survived.

Every day felt like borrowed time. I counted my steps, my words, my breaths—as if moving too freely might trigger the fate already written for me. Love, I realized, wasn’t just something people wanted. It was something that kept them alive.

That was when I noticed him.

It happened on an ordinary afternoon—the kind I trusted the most because nothing ever went wrong on days like that. I was walking down the hallway, my eyes fixed on the floor, when something unfamiliar brushed against my senses.

A presence.

I looked up before I could stop myself.

The number above his head didn’t just glow—it flooded the space around him. It wasn’t something I could count easily. Millions of love points shimmered like a constellation, steady and endless, as if love itself had chosen him as its home.

My breath caught.

I had seen high numbers before. I had seen people overflowing with affection, admiration, and care. But this was different. This wasn’t excess.

This was certainty.

Hwang Nam-woo stood there as if the world had never tried to break him. His expression was calm, unaware of the impossible weight he carried above him. When his eyes met mine, something inside me twisted—fear, curiosity, and a feeling I refused to name.

JU MIN JI

I looked away instantly.

People like him weren’t meant to notice people like me.

If love could be measured on a scale I would be at the tip of that scale, and he'd be at the other tip. Getting close to someone like him should be never imagined by me, I told myself to forget this thought and let it pass like every other dangerous warning.

But that night, my dreams changed.

Instead of accidents and endings, I saw light—blinding and warm—clashing against darkness that refused to fade. For the first time, the future I feared didn’t feel fixed. A strange uncertainty settled into my chest.

I woke up suddenly, my heart still half-lost in the dream, wondering about what I had seen—and what it could mean.

Was it possible that someone like him could change my fate.

Could his presence in my life be enough to save me from dying? That night, sleep refused to come to me.

I kept turning from one side to the other, my eyes shut tight, yet my mind wide awake. No matter how hard I tried, the thought wouldn’t leave me alone.

Finally, I gave up.

I sat up on the bed and decided to catch some fresh air instead of lying there, trapped inside that dream. The walls felt too close, as if they knew what I was thinking.

I quietly stepped out of my room—and then I heard it.

Ri Sook’s voice.

He was talking to someone outside the house.

Curiosity tugged at me, and before I could stop myself, I walked closer to the door, careful not to make a sound.

“If you need any help, just come over, okay?” Ri Sook said gently, his voice filled with concern.

“Thank you so much. I’ll see what I can do for now,” another voice replied.

Something about that voice felt unfamiliar… and strangely close.

Before I could process it, Ri Sook suddenly opened the door.

Bang.

Ouch—” I gasped as the edge of the door knocked against my forehead. Instinctively, my hand flew up as I stepped back, startled more than hurt.

“Minji? What are you even doing here?” Ri Sook asked, his tone sharp, not even trying to help me.

I—I just came to get some fresh air,” I replied quickly. “It’s a little hot inside.”

I pointed weakly toward my room.

As I lifted my eyes, my gaze shifted past Ri Sook.

And then I saw him.

Hwang Nam Woo.

He tilted his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of me from behind Ri Sook’s shoulder.

Our eyes met again.

For a moment, the world went silent.

“So, were you trying to eavesdrop?” Ri Sook asked sharply, moving sideways—almost instinctively—blocking Nam Woo’s view of me.

“No,” I said softly, lowering my gaze to the floor. “I just came here. I didn’t hear your conversation.”

Ri Sook let out a frustrated breath. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Um… I’ll go,” I said quickly. “Good night.”

I forced a small smile and went back into my room, closing the door behind me.

Uncle and Aunt had gone on a trip yesterday, which meant Ri Sook and I were alone in the house. They wouldn’t be back until the last week of April—seventeen days from now.

Was Ri Sook inviting Nam Woo to our house?

After hearing those words, it felt like he was.

But why was Ri Sook so angry?

Was he ashamed of me?

Why was he trying so hard to hide me—standing in the way, blocking Nam Woo’s eyes from reaching me?

I told myself not to think too much about their friendship. Of course someone like Nam Woo would be friends with someone as popular as Ri Sook.

Someone like him would never be friends with me.

I lay down, staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, exhaustion pulled me into sleep.

The day was over—but it left something behind.

A quiet, fragile hope… that maybe, just maybe, I could change my fate.

Even if the chances were only one percent...

Ju Min Ji

The morning arrived to easily

My alarm rang at the same time it always did. The sunlight crept through the curtains in the same gentle way. For a moment, I almost believed nothing had changed—that last night had been nothing more than a dream my mind had created out of exhaustion.

I got ready slowly, my movements careful, as if the wrong step might disturb something fragile. While tying my hair, my eyes drifted to the mirror. For a second, I hesitated, afraid of what I might see.

The number above my head was still the same.

Unmoving. Silent.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

On the dining table, Ri Sook barely looked at me. He seemed angry—still scrolling through reels on his phone, his face blank, emotionless. My mind was crowded with questions, especially about tomorrow, but the words refused to leave my throat.

That day, the walk from home to school felt unusually long.

“Min Ji?”

I turned toward Im Sol suddenly. “Huh? Yes, I’m listening,” I said with a small smile, shifting my gaze back to the road.

“What happened? Is something wrong?” Min Ji asked, worry evident in her voice.

“No, not at all. I’m just a little sleepy—I didn’t get much sleep last night,” I lied, pretending to yawn.

“Oh! My poor baby,” she said, and we both laughed.

Im Sol continued chatting beside me—about upcoming exams, random gossip—giving expressions wherever they were needed. I don’t know why, but my mind couldn’t stay focused on her words.

I looked around.

I didn’t know what I was searching for, but I think it was that presence—the one that always awakened a quiet hope inside me.

We entered the class, and Im Sol’s friends surrounded her, pulling her into conversation as I stepped back.

“Min Ji, give me a minute. I’ll be right back,” Im Sol said, her eyes full of concern, as I nodded slightly and whispered, “Okay.”

I felt that presence once more. I looked up and saw Nam Woo, he was with his friends. The same light seemed to hover above him, as if hundreds—no, millions—of points of love were shining around him.

As if he sensed my gaze, Nam Woo looked at me.

Our eyes met again.

This time, he didn’t look away. Neither did I. His gaze wasn’t confused—it was calm, gentle.

Students rushed past us as the bell rang, but no sound reached me except the frantic beating of my heart.

I blinked twice and lowered my eyes to the floor. My heart pounded painfully, its rhythm so loud it felt as if it might escape my body.

I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom.

Nam Woo wasn’t supposed to look at someone like me—yet he did. Not once, but twice.

He was a stranger to me, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like we had known each other for a long time—like two people pretending to be strangers despite sharing an unspoken history.

I kept thinking about him until the bell rang and class ended. I wanted to go home as fast as possible. I ran toward the stairs—but three girls blocked my path.

They were bullies.

“Hello, little girl,” the first one said, a smirk spreading across her face.

I chose to remain quiet.

“Let her go. I don’t think she has anything,” the second girl said, scanning me from head to toe with disgust in her eyes.

“But I don’t like her face,” the first girl replied, lifting my chin with her fingers.

I stepped back. “I’m sorry. Please let me go,” I said.

“Why are you sorry, baby? You know this word irritates me,” the third girl mocked, scrunching her nose.

“Oh! Her innocence kills me. Let her go,” the second girl added, smiling wickedly.

I started walking toward the stairs, sensing something was about to happen—and I was right.

The first girl pushed me.

“Oops!”

It was unexpected.