Chapter 1: The Boy Next Door

Before Seo Minjae learned how to solve equations, before he became the top student everyone admired, he learned something else first.

People leave.

At five years old, Minjae sat quietly on the living room floor, hugging a stuffed rabbit his mother had given him. His parents were arguing again.

Their voices came from the kitchen.

Loud.

Sharp.

Tired.

He didn't understand the words.

Only the feeling.

The feeling that something was breaking.

A week later, his mother packed her things and left.

His father told him she would come visit.

She never did.

At first, Minjae waited.

Every evening he sat by the window, looking at the road outside.

Every time a car stopped nearby, his small heart jumped.

Maybe Mom was back.

Maybe she had come to get him.

Maybe she missed him too.

But the road always stayed empty.

Then one rainy afternoon, his father came home early.

His face looked strange.

Pale.

Exhausted.

The adults talked in hushed voices while Minjae sat quietly in the corner.

That was the day he learned his mother had died.

A car accident.

The words meant little to a five-year-old.

But he understood one thing.

She wasn't coming back.

Ever.

Something inside him became silent after that.

Months passed.

Then years.

The cheerful little boy who once laughed at cartoons disappeared.

His teachers called him mature.

The neighbors called him quiet.

The truth was simpler.

He just didn't care much anymore.

At seven, his father remarried.

Her name was Park Sunhee.

She brought along her daughter, a girl two years younger than Minjae.

Park Areum.

She had bright eyes and endless energy.

Unlike Minjae.

The little girl followed him everywhere.

"Brother!"

"Brother, look at this!"

"Brother, play with me!"

"Brother!"

But he never encouraged her either.

He simply existed beside her.

Calm.

Polite.

Distant.

As years passed, that distance never disappeared.

His father was busy with work.

His stepmother focused on Areum.

Nobody was cruel to him.

Nobody mistreated him.

Yet nobody truly understood him either.

Minjae became a shadow moving through the house.

A good student.

A quiet son.

A reliable older brother.

Nothing more.

By the time he turned eleven, silence had become his comfort.

His routine never changed.

School.

Homework.

Dinner.

Sleep.

Repeat.

Then one Saturday morning, everything changed.

Minjae was sitting on the porch reading a science book when he heard a loud crash from next door.

Followed by shouting.

Then laughter.

Lots of laughter.

He frowned.

The house next door had been empty for months.

Apparently not anymore.

A moving truck stood outside.

Several boxes were stacked in the driveway.

An energetic woman laughed as a man struggled to carry furniture.

"Careful!"

"I'm being careful!"

"You're dropping it!"

"No, I'm not!"

The box immediately fell.

The woman burst into laughter.

The man groaned dramatically.

Minjae blinked.

Strange.

Nobody in his house laughed that loudly.

Then another voice joined in.

A girl.

Bright and cheerful.

"Dad dropped another one!"

"Traitor!" the man shouted.

The girl laughed harder.

A moment later, the front door burst open.

A boy ran out.

About Minjae's age.

Messy black hair.

Bright eyes.

A grin too large for his face.

He sprinted across the driveway carrying a soccer ball.

"Mom! Where's my room?"

"Upstairs!"

"I call the bigger one!"

"You don't get to choose!"

"I absolutely do!"

"You absolutely don't!"

The entire family started arguing.

Nobody sounded angry.

They sounded happy.

The kind of happy Minjae only saw in television dramas.

The boy suddenly noticed him.

For a moment, they stared at each other.

Minjae remained seated on the porch.

Expressionless.

Silent.

The boy tilted his head.

Then smiled.

Not a polite smile.

Not a nervous smile.

A genuine one.

Bright enough to rival the sun.

Before Minjae could react, the boy ran straight toward him.

"Hi!"

Minjae stared.

The boy grinned.

"I'm Kang Jiho."

Silence.

"You're my neighbor, right?"

Silence.

The boy didn't seem bothered.

Instead, he extended a hand.

"My mom says neighbors should be friends."

Minjae looked down at the offered hand.

Nobody had tried to be his friend in a very long time.

Not because they disliked him.

But because he always kept everyone away.

For a second, he considered ignoring it.

Returning to his book.

Returning to his quiet life.

Then a breeze passed between them.

Warm and gentle.

And for the first time in years, something shifted.

Just a little.

Minjae slowly reached out.

Their hands met.

Neither of them knew it then.

But that simple handshake would become the beginning of fourteen years.

Fourteen years of friendship.

Fourteen years of memories.

And eventually—

The purest love story of their lives.

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