"Huh? That's not it!" Seojun blurted out, waving his hands frantically as if to physically push away the misunderstanding. "I'm just really good at remembering stuff, and your order was easy to remember!" His voice rose slightly at the end, betraying his attempt to sound nonchalant.
Despite his words, a faint flush crept up his neck, and he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to be overly interested in wiping down the counter.
She tilted her head, pushing up her glasses slightly as she observed him. Her violet eyes, usually dull and unreadable, seemed to glint with mild amusement.
"Really?" she murmured, her tone completely neutral, yet somehow carrying the weight of quiet scrutiny.
Seojun stiffened. For some reason, under her gaze, he felt as if he were being cross-examined in court.
"Y-Yeah," he insisted, clearing his throat. "It's just basic memorization. You ordered an Americano, black, no sugar. It's the simplest thing on the menu!" He crossed his arms, attempting to regain some composure, but his foot betrayed him by tapping against the floor in restless agitation.
Haneul hummed, resting her chin on her palm. "Hmm… but you also got the exact number of sugar packets I took last time… and I never actually said how many I use."
Seojun froze. His brain short-circuited for half a second before restarting with an error message flashing in his mind. Abort! Abort!
"I-I just happened to notice!" he defended, his voice an octave higher than normal.
Haneul narrowed her eyes slightly, her lips barely quirking. "I see."
A heavy silence followed. Seojun felt the urge to say something—anything—to break the tension, but his brain had already fried itself with panic.
Finally, Haneul leaned back, adjusting her glasses. "Well, thanks for the coffee," she said simply, reaching for the cup.
Seojun watched her, his heart still hammering for reasons he refused to acknowledge. What was with that reaction just now?
As she took a sip, she glanced at him over the rim of the cup. "…You're kind of weird."
Seojun nearly choked on air. "Huh?! How am I the weird one here?!"
She didn't answer, only taking another slow sip before standing up. "See you."
With that, she walked out, leaving Seojun standing there, completely and utterly defeated.
Seojun slumped against the counter, exhaling sharply. What just happened?
His brain replayed the conversation in slow motion. She had picked up on details that no normal person should have noticed. And worse—she called him weird.
He ran a hand through his hair, groaning. "Why does it feel like I just lost a fight I didn't know I was having?"
He shook his head and grabbed a cloth, wiping the counter aggressively to regain his composure. No. No way. I'm overthinking it. He was just a barista. She was just a customer. Nothing more.
But as he continued working, his thoughts betrayed him.
Why did she even come here in the first place?
No one—not a single soul from his school—had ever found this café. He made sure of it. It was his sanctuary, his hideaway from the noise of school life.
Yet, somehow, she had wandered in.
And now, for the first time, Seojun felt uneasy.
The next day at school, he told himself he wouldn't think about it. He'd just go about his usual routine—helping classmates, flashing his usual easygoing smile, being the guy everyone liked but no one truly paid attention to.
But the moment he stepped into class…
His eyes instinctively drifted toward the back.
Haneul was there, as always—sitting quietly, blending into the background like she always had. No one paid her any attention. She wasn't loud, she wasn't outgoing, and she certainly wasn't the type to attract notice.
Except now, Seojun noticed.
And that changed everything.
Lunch break.
Seojun walked out of the classroom, his expression unreadable. The usual noise of students chatting, desks scraping, and chairs shifting filled the air, but he paid it no mind. His thoughts were elsewhere.
I need to find out more about her.
Haneul. The quiet girl who had slipped into his café, a place no one in school should've known about. The girl who had been watching him—for how long?
If she was just a random customer, he wouldn't have cared. But this wasn't random. She had followed him. She knew.
And yet, she wasn't acting like someone about to spill his secret. That unsettled him even more.
His steps were deliberate as he made his way toward the teacher's office. He wasn't the type to pry into others' business, but this was different. He needed to know who she was.
The office was mostly empty, save for a few teachers too busy with their own work to pay him any attention. That made things easier.
Sliding past a desk, he quickly scanned the stacks of student records piled on a nearby shelf. Finding a specific file would be tough, but—
There.
A neatly arranged row of labeled binders caught his eye. One for each class.
Seojun reached for the one marked "3-2"—his own class.
Careful not to make noise, he flipped through the pages. Names, addresses, guardian contacts, past grades—everything was listed.
Then, he found her. Haneul Choi.
His eyes moved down the page. No club activities. No emergency contact except for a grandmother. Address… not far from school.
His brows furrowed. That's it?
No details about her parents. No extracurriculars. Nothing that stood out. Just the bare minimum of information.
It was like she barely existed.
Seojun shut the binder and slid it back into place, exhaling quietly.
This girl…
She wasn't just quiet. She had erased herself.
As Seojun stepped out of the teacher's office, his mind was still processing what he had seen.
No parents. Only a grandmother. No presence in school activities.
It was strange. Most students had something—friends, clubs, connections. Even the quiet ones left some sort of trace. But Haneul? It was like she had deliberately made herself invisible.
Just as he turned the corner, his steps slowed.
There she was.
Haneul stood near the stairwell, half-hidden behind a vending machine. She wasn't buying anything. Just standing there, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the hallway window.
Seojun didn't know why, but he hesitated. Something about her presence—still, unreadable, almost ghost-like—made him feel like an outsider in his own school.
Has she always been like this?
Then, as if sensing his stare, Haneul's head turned slightly.
Their eyes met.
Seojun expected her to look away, like most people would when caught staring. But she didn't.
She just watched him. Calm, unbothered.
Haneul quickly averted her gaze, her expression unchanging, but her body gave her away. She turned sharply and walked off, her steps suddenly brisk as if she had somewhere urgent to be.
Seojun narrowed his eyes. Suspicious.
Without thinking, he moved. His strides were casual at first, blending naturally into the flow of students moving through the hall, but his focus was locked onto her.
She weaved through the corridors efficiently, not a single wasted movement, as if she already knew the perfect path to avoid crowded areas.
Does she always move like this?
At one point, a group of students chatting by their lockers blocked her way. Haneul didn't hesitate—she sidestepped through a narrow gap between them and continued without a single glance back.
Seojun, on the other hand, had to slow down, throwing on an easygoing smile as he maneuvered past. When he looked ahead again, she had already rounded another corner.
He clicked his tongue. She's fast.
Speeding up, he turned the same corner—only to find the hallway empty.
He stopped in his tracks.
"…What?"
There were only a few classroom doors, a storage closet, and a stairwell leading down. No sign of her.
Seojun glanced around, his instincts telling him she hadn't gone far.
Did she notice me following?
For some reason, that thought made his chest tighten slightly.
Seojun stood still, scanning the empty hallway. No way she disappeared just like that. His eyes flicked to the stairwell. Maybe she went down?
Just as he took a step forward—
"Why are you following me?"
"GAH—!!"
Seojun nearly jumped out of his skin. His whole body jerked, his breath caught in his throat, and his heart slammed against his ribs like a drum.
Haneul stood right behind him.
Not down the stairs. Not hiding in a classroom. She was right there, inches from his back.
Seojun whipped around so fast he almost lost balance. "W-What the hell?! Where did you even—?!"
Haneul blinked at him, completely unimpressed. "I've been standing here."
He stared at her, his brain struggling to process. Bullshit. There was no way she had been there the whole time—he would've seen her!
Unless…
A horrifying realization struck him.
Did she—did she circle behind him the second he turned the corner?!
His stomach dropped. That means she was the one following him.
Seojun took a shaky breath, pressing a hand to his chest. "Don't just appear like that. I almost died."
Haneul tilted her head slightly, her violet eyes unreadable. "…You're too easy to sneak up on."
Seojun gawked at her. "That's not the point here!"