The campus of Seoul University buzzed with excitement.

Students filled every corner of the university grounds, dragging suitcases, carrying backpacks, and chatting enthusiastically with friends and family. Laughter echoed across the open courtyard as freshman prepared for the first day of a new chapter in their lives.

For most of them, today was a day of excitement.

For Han Ji-won, it was just another day.

Standing near the entrance gate, she adjusted the strap of her bag and quietly observed the crowd. Groups of students introduced themselves, exchanged phone numbers, and eagerly discussed their future plans.

Ji-won looked away.

She had no interest in any of it.

Friendships.

Relationships.

Trust.

Those things only brought disappointment.

A cool morning breeze swept across the campus, carrying the sounds of cheerful conversations. Ji-won tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and continued toward the main auditorium where the opening ceremony was being held.

Around her, students rushed excitedly toward the building.

No one noticed the girl walking alone.

And she preferred it that way.

Little did Han Ji-won know that before this day ended, her life would begin to change in ways she never expected.

The opening ceremony lasted nearly an hour.

Freshmen filled the large auditorium, their voices blending into a sea of excitement and nervous anticipation. Some students whispered to one another while others eagerly took pictures to commemorate their first day at Seoul University.

Han Ji-won sat quietly near the back.

She paid little attention to the conversations around her.

After a few minutes, the university principal stepped onto the stage.

The hall gradually fell silent.

"Welcome, everyone, to Seoul University."

His warm voice echoed throughout the auditorium.

"Today marks the beginning of a new chapter in your lives. Here, you will learn, grow, make mistakes, and discover who you truly are."

A wave of applause followed.

The principal continued speaking about the university's history, values, and expectations. He encouraged students to challenge themselves, build meaningful relationships, and create unforgettable memories during their years on campus.

Ji-won stared at the stage without expression.

Meaningful relationships.

She almost laughed at the phrase.There was nothing meaningful for me.

As far as she was concerned, relationships only ended in disappointment.

Soon, the ceremony came to an end.

Students began filing out of the auditorium and gathering around notice boards placed throughout the campus.

Large sheets of paper had been posted, listing class assignments for each department.

Excited voices filled the air.

"I got into Class A!"

"Hey, we're in the same class!"

"Let's go check together!"

Ji-won made her way through the crowd and stopped in front of one of the boards.

Her eyes quickly scanned the list.

Han Ji-won.

Class 1.

Cybercrime and Criminal Investigation Department.

Without much reaction, she memorized the classroom number and turned away.

Un aware of the continuous day to her, several names listed beneath hers would soon become the most important people in her life.

After locating her classroom, Han Ji-won pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was still mostly empty.

A few students had already arrived and were chatting with one another, while others quietly searched for seats.

Ji-won's eyes wandered across the classroom before settling on a seat beside the window near the back.

Perfect.

She walked over and sat down.

A gentle breeze drifted through the slightly open window, carrying the scent of fresh grass from outside. The soft wind brushed against her hair, creating a peaceful atmosphere that immediately put her at ease.

She rested her chin on her hand and gazed out the window.

For the first time that day, she felt comfortable.

No conversations.

No introductions.

No unnecessary attention.

Just silence.

Exactly how she liked it.

One by one, more students entered the classroom.

Some came in groups, laughing and talking as if they had known each other for years. Others nervously searched for familiar faces.

Ji-won paid little attention to any of them.

Then the classroom door opened again.

A girl stepped inside.

Unlike the others, she wasn't smiling.

Her dress was neat but slightly worn, and a tired look lingered in her eyes. A backpack hung from one shoulder as she quietly scanned the room.

Ji-won found herself watching the girl for a moment.

The girl didn't seem interested in talking to anyone.

In fact, she looked as if she wanted to disappear into the background.

The feeling was strangely familiar.

Without a word, the girl walked farther into the classroom and searched for an empty seat.

Ji-won looked away and returned her attention to the window.

Still, for some reason, she couldn't completely ignore the girl.

Neither of them knew it yet.

But this quiet first meeting would become the beginning of a bond that would change both of their lives forever.

A seat near Desk 3 looked empty enough.

Ju hee walked toward it.

But before she could sit—

Three girls turned around.

All at once.

Ju Hee stopped.

Her body reacted before her thoughts did.

Cold.

Instant.

Her fingers stiffened around the strap of her bag.

Because she recognized them.

Not immediately as classmates.

But as something worse.

A memory she had buried so deeply it hurt to pull it back up.

One of them smiled faintly—too familiar, too practiced. Another tilted her head as if she had been waiting for this exact moment. The third simply looked her up and down, slow and deliberate.

Ju Hee’s throat tightened.

No.

Not here.

Her mind tried to reject it.

Middle school corridors flashed in fragments—locked restroom doors, whispered insults that followed her even when she wasn’t there, the sound of laughter that always seemed to have her name hidden inside it.

And then high school.

The hope she had carried when she transferred.

The hope that maybe starting over meant something.

It hadn’t.

Because they were still here.

Still close enough to reach her.

Her face went pale.

All the strength she had used just to walk into the room started to crumble quietly inside her.

She remembered something else too—something heavier.

She was an orphan.

There was no home waiting with answers.

No one to call who could fix this in a single conversation.

No easy transfer this time.

No escape that didn’t come with consequences she couldn’t afford.

She swallowed hard, but it didn’t help.

One of the girls leaned slightly forward.

“Well… look who it is.”

The words were soft.

Almost casual.

That made them worse.

Ju Hee didn’t move.

Didn’t speak.

Her eyes dropped slightly, not because she was weak—but because looking at them felt like stepping back into a place she had already survived once and never wanted to revisit again.

And now she was back in it.

Without warning.

Without permission.

The bell rang, signaling the start of class.

But for Ju Hee, the sound felt distant—like it was happening in another world.

Ju Hee finally sat down.

Carefully.

Quietly.

Like making less sound could make her less visible.

The teacher began speaking at the front of the class, introducing the syllabus, rules, names and extra...

None of it reached her properly.

Her mind was still caught between two places.

The present classroom.

And in the past she never fully escaped.

She told herself the same thing she always did.

Just survive today.

Then it was enough.

Not peace.

Not comfort.

Just survival.

Ji-won noticed her from the moment she sat down.

Not in a dramatic way.

Not because something obvious happened.

Just… a shift.

A hesitation in how the girl near Desk 3 moved.

At first, Ji-won didn’t think much of it.

People had their own moods, their own problems. She wasn’t interested in becoming part of anyone else’s story.

But something about that girl didn’t settle right.

Ju Hee.

Ji-won had caught her name only when the teacher did attendance earlier—soft voice, almost swallowed by the room.

Now, Ju Hee was sitting still.

Too still.

Like she was trying to become part of the desk itself.

Ji-won’s gaze drifted back to the window again, but not fully.

Her attention kept slipping sideways without permission.

The classroom moved on as usual.

The teacher spoke.

Pens scratched paper.

Someone laughed quietly at the back.

But near Desk 3, there was a different kind of silence.

Not peaceful.

Not comfortable.

Controlled.

Ji-won noticed it in small fragments.

The way Ju Hee didn’t turn even when someone behind her shifted their chair.

The way her shoulders stayed slightly tense, like she was waiting for impact instead of lesson instructions.

The way her hand hovered near her notebook but didn’t write anything.

Ji-won’s expression didn’t change.

But her eyes stayed there a little longer than before.

Then it happened.

A whisper.

Too soft for most people to notice.

But Ji-won did.

She didn’t hear the words clearly.

But she saw the reaction.

Ju Hee’s fingers paused.

Just for a second.

Like something had touched a place no one else could see.

Ju Hee didn’t turn around.

Didn’t respond.

But her stillness changed.

It wasn’t the same silence anymore.

Ji-won finally looked away.

Not because she lost interest.

Because she understood something without fully naming it yet.

Some silences weren’t calm.

They were survival.

And that girl near Desk 3…

Wasn’t sitting peacefully in this classroom.

She was enduring it.

The bell finally rang.

Break time.

The sound that usually brought relief instead felt like an opening door to something Ju Hee didn’t want to face.

Students stood up, chairs scraping, voices rising as the classroom loosened from its rigid structure.

But Ju Hee didn’t move immediately.

Her fingers stayed in her notebook for a moment longer than necessary.