1. The Crunch That Changed Everything
Ha-joon wasn't exactly the most observant person. He forgot birthdays, missed obvious signs, and once mistook laundry detergent for pancake mix. But today, something struck. And not just metaphorically.
It was a warm Wednesday, the sun filtering through the classroom windows with golden laziness. Students were half-asleep, brains melting under equations. Except for Hana.
She sat cross-legged in her chair, her lunchbox perched on her lap. In it: apple slices. But not just any apple slices.
She had this ritual. Dip the apple in salt. Then tap it three times against the side of the box. Then eat it with her eyes closed like she was sipping a 500-year-old elixir from a golden goblet.
Ha-joon stared.
And then it hit him.
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2. A Memory Steeped in Rain
The sound of rain. The smell of wet pavement and rust. A much younger Ha-joon sat under the cracked roof of an old bus stop, his backpack soaked, his homework soggy and heart heavier than any science textbook.
Next to him, a small girl with pigtails and sparkly shoes pulled out a bag of apple slices.
"You wanna try?" she asked, holding one out. "They're magic."
He blinked at her. She did the same ritual—salt, tap-tap-tap, eyes closed, slow bite.
"If you eat it right," she whispered dramatically, "it makes sadness disappear."
He laughed. He actually laughed. Not because of the apple. But because of her. The way she made a boring snack feel like a spell.
"You're weird," he told her.
"I'm enchanted," she replied.
They shared the apples in the rain. He never got her name. But he never forgot that moment. Or the crunch.
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3. Classroom Collisions and Jealous Glares
Back in the present, Ha-joon snapped out of his trance, watching Hana carefully place the last apple slice in her mouth.
"You okay, dude?" Minho nudged him.
"Yeah," Ha-joon mumbled. "Just... remembering something."
But someone else noticed the staring. Si-hun.
He'd been watching the whole exchange from across the room, the fire in his chest sparking into a full-blown flame.
When the teacher left the room for a moment, chaos naturally unfolded. Students chattered. Paper planes flew. But tension simmered silently in the corner.
Si-hun stood.
"Hey, Ha-joon. You got something to say to Hana, or are you just gonna keep staring like a creep?"
The room fell dead silent.
Ha-joon stood slowly. "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Si-hun scoffed. "Maybe that you're always around her. Laughing. Whispering. Acting like you matter."
Gasps. Phones sneakily recording. Drama sensors fully activated.
Ha-joon took a step closer. "Maybe that's because I do matter. To her. Unlike you, who only glares from a distance."
That was it. The match dropped.
Si-hun shoved him. Ha-joon shoved back. Desks scraped. Books toppled.
Before things got bloody, the teacher walked in. Perfect timing.
Both boys were thrown out of class for the day.
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4. Fluttery Hearts and Fumbling Words
Later, after school, Ha-joon sat on the school rooftop, nursing a tiny scratch on his cheek. He wasn't even mad. Not really.
Hana showed up ten minutes later, hair messy from wind, still holding her lunchbox.
"You okay, gladiator?"
He smirked. "Yeah. Battle scars make me look cool, right?"
She sat beside him, pulling out a slice of apple. Salt. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Want one?"
His heart exploded a little.
He took it without a word. The crunch brought the memory crashing all over again.
"You know..." he began, voice quieter than usual, "a long time ago, I met this girl during a storm. She gave me apples. Just like this. Said they were magic."
Hana paused.
"Weird," she smiled. "Sounds like something I'd say."
He looked at her. She looked back.
The world paused. No birds. No breeze. Just the thump-thump-thump of hearts realizing something huge.
She looked away first. "We should probably go. It's getting dark."
"Yeah," he said. But he didn't move. Neither did she.
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5. Cracks Behind Closed Doors
Hana reached home with the usual ache in her feet and spark in her chest. The moment she opened the door, it all shattered.
"She deserves to know!"
"Not now! If we tell her, everything falls apart!"
Uncle. Aunt. Voices raised. Faces red. Her name tangled in every sentence.
She didn't even blink.
Shoes off. Backpack dropped. Walked past them like it was background noise.
Her aunt paused, watching her go upstairs like nothing was wrong.
"She heard us," she whispered.
"No. She doesn't know."
But upstairs, in her room, Hana pulled the box from under her bed.
Inside: an old photo. Two people smiling. Not her aunt. Not her uncle.
She looked at them with calm eyes. Not sad. Not shocked. Just... tired.
She whispered to herself, "I've always known."
She placed the photo back. Locked the box. And stared at the ceiling.
Today had been bright. Apple-sweet. Full of fluttering and old memories.
But now, darkness returned. Quiet. Heavy.
Still... somewhere in her chest, a small spark remained.
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6. End Scene: Unspoken, Unbroken
Ha-joon lay on his bed, tossing his pencil at the ceiling, heart still reeling.
He didn't know what was happening. With Hana. With his feelings. With the memory that haunted him.
But he knew one thing.
> He was going to protect that smile. That ritual. That magic. Even if the world fell apart.
Somehow, he knew.
The girl from the past and the girl from the present were one and the same.
And maybe—just maybe—she needed him now more than ever.
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END OF EPISODE NINE