The first frost of winter had arrived, painting the village in soft shades of gray and white. Ji-Ho tugged at the collar of his thick sweater and adjusted his scarf, the fabric warm but a little scratchy against his neck. He and the others trudged toward the bus stop, boots crunching over frosty patches and the occasional dusting of snow.
A thin veil of fog clung to the road, curling like ghostly fingers around trees and walls. The fields beyond the village were barely visible, muted under the pale morning light. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of wet soil and smoke from distant chimneys. Each breath Ji-Ho drew puffed out in small clouds, vanishing almost instantly into the chilly air.
The bus rumbled into view, its engine a low growl that vibrated under their feet. Snowflakes began to fall lightly, drifting down like tiny pieces of glass catching the first rays of the sun. The world seemed suspended, quiet except for the occasional flap of a crow's wings or the soft hiss of tires on frost-coated roads.
Ji-Ho found a seat near the window and pressed his hand against the glass. Outside, the road stretched ahead, a ribbon of white bordered by trees dusted in frost. It felt like the world had slowed just for this moment.
And then he saw her.
Thanu stood at the bus stop outside her house, her braid swinging gently over one shoulder. She was wrapped in a thick jacket, scarf snug around her neck, and her breath puffed in tiny clouds as she waited. Her eyes met Ji-Ho's through the window, and she gave a small, almost imperceptible wave.
The snow began to fall a little heavier, the flakes swirling in the early light. The road, the trees, the distant fields—all were softened by the white haze. It was cinematic, almost surreal, as if the world outside the window had become a painting, and Ji-Ho was seeing it for the first time.
His heart skipped. The cold was sharp, but it couldn't compete with the warmth of recognition, of seeing a familiar face in the quiet beauty of a winter morning. For a moment, the bus, the fog, and the snow all faded, leaving just him and Thanu, framed in the soft glow of early sunlight.
Ji-Ho's eyes kept glancing at Thanu, who sat a few rows ahead, adjusting her scarf as snowflakes drifted past the window. The world outside was soft and white, the fog curling around frost-covered trees.
A sudden, booming laugh beside him made Ji-Ho turn. Sekhar plopped into the window seat, slightly bulky, his grin wide and welcoming.
"Hey! You're Ji-Ho, right?" he said, brushing snow from his jacket. "I'm Sekhar. Our houses are practically neighbors—just three doors down."
Ji-Ho blinked. "Really? I… didn't know."
Sekhar laughed again, deep and infectious. A few other students turned, smiling at the sound. "Yeah! I mostly stay inside, so you wouldn't have seen me around."
A few rows ahead, a girl with alert eyes glanced back and smiled. "Hi, Ji-Ho. I'm Jyothi. I'm from our village too."
Her voice was quiet but friendly. Ji-Ho nodded shyly, feeling a little more at ease.
As the bus rolled through the foggy winter road, another girl's voice floated down the aisle. "Thanu was just talking about you," she said, nudging her friend. "She said your cricket skills are really good!"
Ji-Ho's cheeks flushed as he looked up. He hadn't realized Thanu had been talking about him. What made it more surprising was that Narendra, who had been sitting a few seats away, had overheard the conversation. His sharp eyes flicked between Ji-Ho and Thanu, and a small smirk appeared on his lips.
The bus continued its steady rattle toward school, snowflakes swirling outside. Ji-Ho's mind buzzed with a mix of excitement and nerves.
Finally, the first class ended, and students poured into the courtyard for the break. Ji-Ho found Thanu near the garden, her cheeks pink from the cold.
"Hi," he said softly, brushing snow from his jacket. "I… didn't know you were talking about my cricket skills."
Thanu laughed lightly. "I didn't say much. Just… you're pretty good, that's all."
Before Ji-Ho could reply, a shadow fell across the path. Narendra stepped forward, tall, confident, and smirking. "So it's true," he said, voice calm but teasing. "Thanu mentioned your cricket skills. I think it's time we test them."
Ji-Ho froze, eyes wide. "Test… how?"
"A match," Narendra said, crossing his arms. "Winner gets bragging rights—and maybe a bit of respect from Thanu," he added with a playful glint in his eyes.
Thanu looked surprised but amused, and Ji-Ho felt a mix of excitement and nervousness rush through him. The snow, the fog, and the soft morning light all faded into the background, leaving just the thrill of the challenge—and the promise of an unforgettable school day.