After breakfast, Seojun walked Bomi to preschool as usual.
"Oppa, don't forget my treat!" Bomi reminded him as she tugged on his hand.
"I said two, didn't I?" Seojun sighed. "You're really milking this, huh?"
Bomi grinned, swinging their hands. "Because you're nice."
Seojun snorted. "I think you mean 'too nice.'"
They reached the preschool, and Seojun crouched to adjust Bomi's backpack. "Be good, alright? No bullying the other kids."
Bomi pouted. "I don't bully!"
"Uh-huh." He flicked her forehead lightly. "I'll see you later."
She giggled before dashing inside, waving over her shoulder. "Bye, Oppa!"
Seojun straightened, watching her go. Once she disappeared into the building, he let out a breath and turned toward his own school.
Time to start the day.
He sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag before heading to school. Another normal morning—at least, that's what he thought.
But the moment he stepped into class, his stomach dropped.
Haneul was there.
Sitting quietly in her seat, adjusting her glasses as she flipped through a book. As if she had always been there.
Seojun froze mid-step. A single thought echoed in his mind.
We are in the same class?
His eye twitched. Since when?!
His gaze darted between her and the empty seat beside her. His seat. How had he never noticed her before?
This is bad. This is bad.
She had been right there, all along. In his class. And yet, until yesterday, he had no memory of her. Not even a vague recollection.
Seojun hesitated before slipping into his chair, stealing a cautious glance at her. Haneul didn't even look up, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading. But Seojun wasn't fooled. She had to have noticed him staring.
His fingers drummed against the desk.
"Morning," he muttered, testing the waters.
Silence.
Haneul turned a page.
Seojun narrowed his eyes slightly. He wasn't sure why he expected her to respond. Maybe because everyone did. But not her.
He leaned slightly toward her. "Did you know we're classmates?"
Haneul's eyes flicked up from her book, meeting his gaze for the first time. She adjusted her glasses. "Yes."
A beat passed.
"…And you weren't going to mention that?"
"No."
Seojun scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "That's a little weird, don't you think?"
"Not really."
Her tone was unreadable. Not defensive, not amused—just stating a fact.
Seojun eyed her, irritation mixing with curiosity. "Okay, let me ask you something." He rested his chin on his hand. "How long have you been in this class?"
Haneul blinked at him. "Since the first year."
A pause.
Seojun's fingers twitched. "…You're joking."
"No."
"Lies."
Haneul raised an eyebrow slightly, tilting her head. "Why would I lie about that?"
Seojun opened his mouth, then closed it. He had no answer.
Because technically, she should be telling the truth. If she had transferred in recently, he would have heard about it. If she was a new student, people would have mentioned it.
But the fact that she had been there, unnoticed, for two whole years—
It made no sense.
Seojun exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "Okay. Fine. Let's say I believe you. How have I never seen you before?"
Haneul tilted her head slightly, as if the answer was obvious. "You don't pay attention."
Seojun blinked. "Excuse me?"
Haneul didn't say anything else. She just turned another page, eyes scanning the text.
Then, almost absently, she murmured, "You're always busy."
"You're too busy," she said simply, looking back at him. "Too many people around you, too many things to do. You only notice what matters to you."
The words hit a little too hard.
Seojun frowned, shifting in his seat. "That's—" He stopped himself, jaw tightening. He wanted to argue, but she wasn't wrong.
He had always been surrounded by people. Always moving, always occupied.
But still—
Not noticing someone for two whole years?
That wasn't normal.
Seojun stole another glance at her, a deep unease settling in his chest.
Haneul flipped another page in her book, as if their conversation had already ended.
Seojun watched her for a few more seconds, waiting for her to say something else. But she didn't.
She had already dismissed him.
His eye twitched.
No one dismissed him.
He glanced away, drumming his fingers against the desk. This was ridiculous. Maybe she was messing with him—some kind of prank? But that didn't make sense. She wasn't the type.
And she hadn't lied.
Which made it worse.
A student walked past, clapping him on the shoulder. "Yo, Seojun. Up late grinding homework again?"
Seojun blinked, forcing a grin. "Something like that."
Another voice chimed in. "Hey, were you at the café yesterday? Thought I saw you—"
Just like that, the usual morning chatter surrounded him. Friendly greetings, casual conversations—nothing out of the ordinary.
But it felt different.
Because now, he was hyper-aware of the girl sitting quietly beside him, completely untouched by the noise.
Like an observer.
Like someone watching from a world separate from his own.
He turned his head slightly, just enough to see her out of the corner of his eye.
Haneul hadn't moved. Still reading, still composed, as if the conversation they just had didn't matter.
But Seojun knew better now.
She had been there.
All along.
And he had never noticed.
His fingers curled slightly on the desk.
Why does that bother me so much?
The thought came before he could stop it.
He shook it off, plastering on his usual easygoing smile as another friend sat down to chat. But even as the morning rolled on, as class began, and the day returned to its normal rhythm—
A strange, nagging feeling stayed with him.
And no matter how much he tried to ignore it, one thought kept creeping back.
I need to know more about her.
---
The day passed in a blur.
Or rather, it should have.
For the first time in years, Seojun found himself distracted in class—not by exhaustion or stress, but by an unfamiliar awareness.
Every time he glanced to the side, Haneul was there.
Silent. Unbothered. Existing in the same space as him, yet somehow separate from it.
It made no sense.
During lunch, Seojun sat with his usual group, half-listening to their conversation. Normally, he would be at the center of it—joking, teasing, keeping the mood light. But today, he caught himself scanning the cafeteria.
She wasn't here.
Did she eat somewhere else?
"Oi, Seojun. You good?"
He blinked, turning back to the table. Minjae was squinting at him. "You've been weirdly quiet."
Seojun scoffed. "I always let you guys talk."
"Yeah, but you usually interrupt to make fun of me."
"True." He smirked, shaking off the thoughts. "I must be going soft."
They laughed, the moment passing.
But even as he joked along, his mind lingered elsewhere.
Where does she go?
---
After school, Seojun strolled toward his café, hands in his pockets. The sun cast long shadows on the pavement, the air thick with early spring warmth.
He tried to shake off the odd mood from the day.
Maybe he was overthinking it.
Maybe Haneul was just… one of those background people. The kind you only notice when you really look.
But why was he looking?
He exhaled sharply, rubbing his neck.
Whatever. It wasn't his problem.
He turned the corner—
And stopped.
Haneul was there.
Standing in front of his café's entrance.
Seojun's heart did a strange little jump.
She wasn't inside. Just standing there, staring at the closed door.
As if she was deciding something.
His first instinct was to turn back. To walk away and pretend he didn't see.
But then, as if sensing him, she slowly turned.
Their eyes met.
Haneul adjusted her glasses, her expression unreadable.
Then, with the same calm certainty as before, she spoke.
"Oh, you are finally here."
Seojun stared at her.
She had come back.
A slow nervous grin tugged at his lips.
"Well," he said, stepping forward. "Now I really need to know who you are."
Haneul tilted her head slightly. "Why would I tell you?"
His grin faltered.
"…What?"
Her expression remained unreadable. "You never noticed me before. Why does it matter now?"
Seojun opened his mouth, then closed it.
She wasn't wrong, but still—
"That's—" He frowned. "That's not the point."
Haneul didn't respond. She just glanced at the closed café door, as if debating something.
Seojun watched her, curiosity burning stronger than before.
Then, finally, she spoke again.
"Are you going to open the door or not?"
Seojun exhaled, shaking his head as he pulled out the key.
Yeah.
He was definitely in trouble.
---
The café door clicked open, and Seojun pushed it inward, stepping aside to let Haneul in. She didn't hesitate. With the same calm presence as always, she walked past him and into the dimly lit space.
Seojun locked the door behind them and turned, watching as she took in the surroundings.
The café wasn't anything special—small, neat, tucked away from the world. But it was his. The one place where he could breathe.
And now, somehow, she had found it.
Twice.
Seojun exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright," he muttered. "You're here again. Guess that means you like the place?"
Haneul didn't answer right away. Instead, she walked to the counter, her fingers lightly brushing the polished wood. "It's quiet."
"That's kind of the point," Seojun said, moving behind the counter. "Not a lot of people know about it."
Haneul hummed, as if she already knew that.
Seojun narrowed his eyes slightly. "You didn't answer my question earlier."
She looked up.
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. "Why come back?"
Haneul adjusted her glasses, gaze steady. "Why not?"
Seojun clicked his tongue. "You really like answering questions with questions, huh?"
She didn't deny it.
A small, amused huff left his lips. "Alright, fine. Whatever. You're here, so I might as well make something."
He rolled up his sleeves and reached for the coffee beans, slipping into his usual routine. The familiar motions helped ground him, pushing aside the strange awareness that had followed him all day.
As he brewed her drink, he kept an eye on her.
She had settled into the same seat as before, hands resting lightly on the table. Unlike his usual customers, she didn't fidget or check her phone. She simply waited.
Unhurried. Unbothered.
It was weird.
But weirder still was the fact that he didn't mind it.
A few minutes later, he set a cup down in front of her. "Here."
Haneul glanced at it, then back at him. "You didn't ask what I wanted."
Seojun smirked. "I remembered."
For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed her face.
He caught it.
Seojun leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the counter. "What? Didn't think I'd remember?"
Haneul lifted the cup, blowing lightly on the surface. "You don't usually notice things that don't matter to you."
Seojun stilled.
There it was again.
That quiet, knowing way she spoke—like she had been watching him for a long time.
His fingers curled slightly on the countertop. "And what makes you think this matters to me?"
Haneul took a slow sip of her drink. Then, without looking up, she said—
"You're talking to me, aren't you?"