The first day at Seonghwa Middle School buzzed with energy. Students hurried through the corridors, trading summer stories and laughter. Ra-hee adjusted the strap of her new school bag and took a deep breath before stepping into Class 1-3.
That's when she saw him — a boy by the window, sunlight spilling across his desk. Byun-woo. He wasn't doing anything special, just staring outside like the world out there was more interesting than the chaos inside. Still, something about him made her heartbeat quicken.
From that moment, Ra-hee was drawn to him. Every time he laughed, her lips followed. Every time his eyes met hers, she forgot what she was thinking.
What she didn't know was that Byun-woo had noticed her, too. From the first week, he found excuses to pass by her desk, to walk out of class when she did. He didn't even understand why — he just wanted to be near her.
1 Week Later
The announcement about Sports Day spread through the halls like wildfire. Every student in Seonghwa Middle School buzzed with excitement — or at least, most of them did.
"Girls will change in the gym locker room," the homeroom teacher reminded, "and boys in the next building. No one should come dressed from home. The buses will take you all to the main field after roll call."
Ra-hee groaned softly to her friend. She wasn't exactly the athletic type, but part of her didn't mind. It meant she'd get to see Byun-woo outside of class — and maybe, just maybe, talk to him without a teacher hovering nearby.
When the time came, the middle schoolers gathered near the school gates, chatter filling the air as the yellow school buses waited in line. Ra-hee climbed aboard the second one, clutching her water bottle. She found an empty seat by the window and sat down.
A few seconds later, someone tapped her shoulder.
"Is this seat taken?"
She turned — it was Byun-woo, holding his gym bag, that easy smile on his face.
Her heart skipped. "N-no," she stammered, scooting to the side.
He sat beside her, close enough for her to smell the faint scent of fabric softener from his uniform. The engine started, and the bus jerked forward. Around them, classmates shouted, laughed, argued over songs and snacks.
But all Ra-hee could hear was the quiet thud-thud-thud of her own heartbeat.
After Sports Day, nothing felt quite the same. Ra-hee still couldn't forget how close she'd been to Byun-woo on the bus, how easily they'd laughed at the same jokes.
A term had passed by with so much memories, like making friends, having crushes and getting into punishments from making so much noise.
Their homeroom teacher got so sick of the noise, so she came up with a plan.
The next day, she walked in holding the seating chart.
"Everyone, we're changing seats today," she announced. "You've all been too noisy in your groups."
Groans filled the classroom. Desks scraped across the floor as names were called.
When it came to Byun-woo's turn, the teacher pointed to a spot in the last row.
Then she looked up at Ra-hee's table. "Ra-hee, you and Do-ra—move one row forward."
Byun-woo ended up sitting right behind them.
Ra-hee tried not to turn around, but she could feel his presence — the way he tapped his pen when he was thinking, the way his chair creaked when he leaned back. Sometimes he'd poke her notebook just to annoy her, or whisper a comment that made Do-ra snicker.
Slowly, talking became part of their routine. Group projects, break time, after-class jokes — it all blended together.
And though neither of them said anything about that bus ride again, something quiet and warm kept growing between them.