Mina liked coming to school early.

It was the only time the classroom felt quiet enough to breathe in.

No loud voices.

No pointless conversations.

No people trying too hard to be noticed.

Just silence.

And she liked silence.

That morning, she stepped into Class 2-B and stopped immediately.

Someone was already there.

A girl she had never seen before was sitting at the desk beside hers, casually flipping through the school handbook like she had every right to be there.

Mina frowned.

“You’re early.”

The girl looked up and smiled.

“So are you.”

Mina said nothing.

She placed her bag on her chair and sat down.

For a few seconds, the room was quiet again.

Then—

“You look like you hate people who talk too much.”

Mina turned her head slowly.

The girl was watching her with a lazy little smile.

Mina stared for a second before replying,

“You look like one of them.”

The girl laughed.

And for some reason, Mina found that annoying.

“I’m Hana,” the girl said.

“Mina.”

Hana tilted her head slightly.

“Pretty name.”

Mina looked away before her expression could betray her.

Before she could respond, the classroom door suddenly slid open.

“Mina!”

Sora rushed in like a storm, nearly out of breath and way too energetic for the morning.

Then she noticed Hana.

Her eyes widened instantly.

“Oh.”

Then she grinned.

“Ohhh.”

Mina already knew that expression.

And she hated it.

Sora dropped into the seat in front of Mina and looked between the two of them.

“Who’s this?”

“The transfer student,” Hana answered easily.

Sora lit up.

“I knew it! You have transfer student energy.”

Hana blinked. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”

“It is,” Sora said. “Probably.”

Mina sighed and looked out the window.

Her peaceful morning was officially ruined.

By lunch, nearly everyone in class had already spoken to Hana.

Mina escaped to the library.

She bought strawberry milk from the vending machine outside and headed to her usual table near the back—

Only to stop when she saw Hana sitting there too.

Mina stared.

“Do you have some kind of problem?”

Hana looked up from the book in her hands.

“With what?”

“With being everywhere I am.”

Hana smiled.

“Maybe I’m just interested.”

Mina ignored the weird feeling that gave her and sat down across from her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Hana asked,

“You always spend lunch alone?”

Mina pushed the straw into her drink.

“Do you always ask invasive questions?”

“Only when I care.”

Mina froze.

That answer came too fast.

Too naturally.

And for once, even Hana seemed to realize how that sounded.

The silence after was awkward.

Then Hana reached into her blazer pocket and placed a strawberry candy on the table.

“A peace offering,” she said.

Mina stared at it.

“You carry candy in your pocket?”

“Only for emergencies.”

That almost made Mina smile.

Almost.

After school, Mina stayed behind to finish sorting student council papers.

The classroom had gone quiet again.

Most students had already left.

She thought she was alone—

Until she heard a voice near the door.

“You really are still here.”

Mina looked up.

It was Hana.

“I have work,” Mina said simply.

Hana walked over and glanced down at the stack of papers on the desk.

“You know normal people would just throw those into a folder and go home, right?”

“I’m not interested in normal people.”

Hana leaned against the desk beside her.

This time, when she looked at Mina, her expression was quieter.

Softer.

“I think,” Hana said, “you try really hard not to let people get close to you.”

Mina’s chest tightened.

She looked away.

“You don’t know me.”

For the first time all day, Hana didn’t smile.

“No,” she said softly.

“Not yet.”

She picked up her bag and turned toward the door.

Then she paused.

“Oh,” she said, glancing back, “I’m sitting beside the window again tomorrow.”

Mina frowned.

“That’s your actual seat.”

“Exactly,” Hana replied with a grin.

“So you can’t complain.”

Then she left.

Just like that.

Mina sat there for a while after, staring at the empty desk beside hers.

For some reason, the classroom didn’t feel as quiet as it usually did.

And somehow—

that bothered her more than it should have.

Mina arrived early again the next morning.

And immediately regretted it.

Hana was already there.

Sitting beside the window.

Exactly where she said she would be.

She looked up the second Mina walked in and smiled like she’d been expecting her.

“You came back,” Hana said.

Mina placed her bag down.

“It’s school.”

“That doesn’t sound very enthusiastic.”

“It wasn’t meant to.”

Hana laughed softly.

Mina hated how quickly she was starting to recognize that sound.

She sat down and took out her notebook, pretending she didn’t notice Hana watching her again.

“You always come this early?” Hana asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So I can enjoy five minutes of peace before people start talking.”

Hana rested her chin in her hand.

“And yet, here you are. Talking.”

“I’m not enjoying it.”

“That’s harsh.”

“You’ll survive.”

Hana smiled.

And for some reason, that smile lingered in Mina’s mind longer than it should have.

By the time class started, the room had filled with voices again.

Sora dropped into her seat in front of Mina and turned around immediately.

Her eyes bounced between Mina and Hana like she was watching a drama unfold live.

“This is getting interesting,” she whispered.

Mina looked at her blankly.

“Nothing is happening.”

“Mmhm.”

“Nothing.”

“Sure.”

Before Mina could threaten her, their homeroom teacher entered the classroom carrying a stack of papers.

The room quieted.

“Since the midterm presentation is next week,” the teacher announced, “you’ll be working in pairs.”

A collective groan spread through the class.

Mina straightened a little.

She hated pair work.

She hated depending on people.

And she especially hated classmates who did nothing and still expected to be carried.

The teacher started reading out names.

Mina listened carefully, already preparing herself for disappointment.

Then—

“Mina Lee… and Hana Choi.”

The room erupted instantly.

“OHHHH.”

“Of course!”

“That’s perfect!”

Sora nearly slammed both hands on Mina’s desk.

Mina closed her eyes.

No.

Absolutely not.

She turned slowly toward Hana.

Hana looked way too pleased.

“Looks like fate,” Hana said.

Mina stared.

“Don’t say that"

At lunch, Mina went to the library.

Not because she wanted to.

Only because if she didn’t, Hana would absolutely find her anyway.

And somehow, that felt worse.

She found Hana already sitting at their usual table with two drinks and their project sheet spread out between a pile of books.

Mina stopped.

Hana looked up and pushed one drink toward her.

“Strawberry milk.”

Mina stared.

“How did you know I liked this?”

Hana shrugged.

“You bought it yesterday.”

Mina said nothing for a second.

It was such a small thing.

But the fact that Hana had noticed—

really noticed—

made something in her chest feel strangely warm.

And uncomfortable.

Mina sat down and picked up the drink.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

Hana smiled like she’d just won something.

Which, annoyingly, maybe she had.

For the first fifteen minutes, they actually worked.

Mostly.

Mina wrote notes neatly into her notebook while Hana flipped through a biology textbook and read things out loud in a dramatic voice.

“‘The Golgi apparatus packages and distributes proteins—’ wow. She’s just like me.”

Mina looked up.

“Who is she?”

“The Golgi apparatus.”

“That might be the worst sentence I’ve heard today.”

Hana looked offended.

“You don’t see the vision?”

“No.”

“You’re crushing my creativity.”

“You’ll recover.”

Hana sighed dramatically and dropped her head onto the table.

Mina looked down at her notes to hide the tiny smile threatening to appear.

Unfortunately—

“You smiled.”

Mina froze.

Slowly, she looked up.

Hana was staring at her with way too much satisfaction.

“I didn’t.”

“You literally did.”

“I literally didn’t.”

“You do this thing,” Hana said, sitting up again, “where you act like emotions are illegal.”

Mina looked back down at her notebook.

“That sounds like something a dramatic person would say.”

“Good thing I am one.”

Mina shook her head.

But this time, she couldn’t stop the small smile that slipped through.

And Hana noticed that too.

Her expression softened for just a second.

Not teasing.

Not playful.

Just… warm.

Mina looked away first.

Again.

Things were going suspiciously well.

Which should have been her first warning.

Because halfway through lunch, three girls from another class suddenly stopped by their table.

And all three of them were looking at Hana.

One of them smiled.

“Hey, Hana, right?”

Hana looked up politely.

“Yeah?”

“We were wondering if you wanted to eat with us tomorrow.”

Mina kept her eyes on her notebook.

She didn’t care.

Obviously.

Not even a little.

“You seem fun,” another girl added. “And everyone’s already talking about you.”

Hana gave them a small smile.

“That sounds dangerous.”

The girls laughed.

Mina pressed her pen a little too hard against the page.

Then Hana glanced sideways.

At her.

Not at the girls.

At her.

And for some reason, that made Mina’s pulse jump.

“Maybe another time,” Hana said.

The girls looked surprised.

“Oh. Okay.”

After they left, silence fell over the table for a moment.

Mina kept writing like none of that had mattered.

Then Hana spoke.

“You looked annoyed.”

Mina didn’t look up.

“I wasn’t.”

“You were pressing your pen hard enough to stab the paper.”

Mina immediately loosened her grip.

Hana smiled.

“That’s kind of cute.”

Mina looked up so fast she almost gave herself whiplash.

“Do you ever hear yourself?”

“Usually, yes.”

“You shouldn’t.”

That only made Hana laugh again.

And Mina hated how much she liked that sound now.

After school, the rain started.

It wasn’t heavy at first.

Just a quiet drizzle against the windows.

Most students hurried out anyway, trying to beat it before it got worse.

Mina stood under the covered walkway near the entrance, staring at the gray sky with growing irritation.

Of course she had forgotten her umbrella.

Of course.

“You look personally offended by the weather.”

Mina didn’t even have to turn around.

“Hana.”

“The one and only.”

Mina glanced at the umbrella in Hana’s hand.

Then immediately looked away.

She was not about to ask.

No chance.

Not happening.

A few seconds passed.

Then Hana lifted the umbrella slightly.

“You can share mine.”

Mina hesitated.

Every possible answer felt dangerous.

“I live near the station,” Hana added.

“If you’re going that way, it’s not a big deal.”

It was a big deal.

That was the problem.

Because standing close to Hana under one umbrella felt like the kind of thing that would stay in her head for days.

Maybe longer.

Mina looked out at the rain again.

Then, very quietly—

“…Fine.”

Hana smiled.

And for some reason, that felt like losing.

They stepped out into the rain together.

The umbrella was just big enough.

Which meant it was absolutely not big enough.

Mina tried to keep a reasonable amount of distance between them, but every few steps their shoulders brushed anyway.

Each time it happened, she became painfully aware of it.

The sound of rain filled the silence between them.

Not awkward.

Just quiet.

Soft.

Too soft.

After a minute, Hana spoke.

“You’re really tense.”

“I’m walking.”

“You’re walking like this is a hostage situation.”

Mina almost choked.

“I am not.”

“You kind of are.”

“I’m literally just existing.”

“With incredible stress.”

Mina glared at her.

Hana laughed under her breath.

Then, after a moment, she shifted the umbrella slightly more toward Mina’s side.

A small movement.

But deliberate.

Mina noticed.

Of course she noticed.

She looked down at the wet pavement and said nothing.

After a while, Hana spoke again—more quietly this time.

“You know… you don’t have to act okay all the time.”

Mina’s steps slowed.

“What?”

Hana kept her eyes ahead.

“At school,” she said.

“You always look like you’re trying very hard not to need anything.”

Mina stared at her.

Rain tapped softly against the umbrella above them.

For a second, the world felt strangely far away.

“That’s a weird thing to notice,” Mina said.

Hana glanced at her.

“I notice a lot of things.”

Mina looked away first.

Again.

And somehow, that was starting to bother her.

When they reached the station entrance, the rain had gotten heavier.

Students moved around them in blurred uniforms and umbrellas.

For a moment, neither of them stepped away.

Hana adjusted her grip on the umbrella.

Mina tightened her fingers around the strap of her bag.

Then Hana smiled, small and easy.

“See?” she said.

“We survived the traumatic experience of walking home together.”

Mina rolled her eyes.

“Barely.”

Hana grinned.

And then—

“Mina?”

A voice called from behind them.

Mina turned.

One of the girls from lunch was standing a few feet away under a pale umbrella, looking between the two of them with obvious curiosity.

“Oh,” she said slowly.

“You two are together?”

Everything in Mina’s chest locked up.

Not because of what she meant.

Not really.

Just the way she said it.

The way it sounded.

The way it could become something else if people wanted it to.

Mina stepped back too quickly.

Her shoulder left Hana’s.

The space between them felt immediate.

Sharp.

Cold.

“We’re not,” Mina said.

Too fast.

Too flat.

The girl blinked.

“I just meant—”

“We’re doing a project,” Mina cut in.

Then she turned back toward Hana.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And before Hana could answer, Mina walked away.

Fast.

Too fast.

She didn’t stop until she was already inside the station.

Only then did she slow down.

Only then did she realize how hard her heart was beating.

And how guilty she suddenly felt.

That night, Mina lay in bed staring at the ceiling long after she should have been asleep.

Rain tapped softly against her window.

Her phone rested face down beside her pillow.

She told herself she wasn’t thinking about the way Hana had looked when she pulled away.

She told herself she wasn’t replaying that moment.

She told herself she definitely wasn’t wondering if Hana was upset.

And then—

Her phone buzzed.

Mina froze.

She turned it over slowly.

A new message.

Unknown Number

Hana:

You owe me for the umbrella.

Mina stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Hana:

Also…

you looked cute when you were flustered today.

Mina sat up so fast she nearly dropped her phone.

A third message came in before she could recover.

Hana:

Sleep well, Mina :)

Mina stared at the screen for a full ten seconds.

Then buried her face in her pillow.

Hard.

Because this was already becoming a problem.

And deep down—

she was starting to think the problem wasn’t Hana.

It was how much Mina was beginning to want her around.