FIRST MORNING
Mia woke up before her alarm.
For a moment, she forgot where she was. Then the unfamiliar quiet settled in—the kind of quiet that felt full instead of empty.
She sat up slowly and looked around her new room. Sunlight slipped through the curtains, softer than she expected. Outside, the city was already moving.
Seoul was awake
She washed up, tied her curls back, and slung her camera over her shoulder like it belonged there—like this city had already started to claim her.
Breakfast was simple. Her parents talked about errands, furniture, and paperwork. Mia listened, but her mind was elsewhere. Today was her first day at the university.
When she stepped outside alone, the street felt different in the daylight. Cafés buzzed quietly. Scooters passed by. The smell of coffee and fresh bread hung in the air.
She followed the map on her phone, heart beating faster with every step.
The campus was bigger than she imagined. Trees lined the walkways, and students moved confidently between buildings, laughing, talking, living. Mia felt small for a second—but she didn't turn back.
You belong here, she reminded herself.
During a break between orientations, she found an empty bench near a café and sat down, pulling out her camera. She took photos of anything that caught her eye—sunlight through leaves, a stray cat near the steps, the rhythm of people passing by.
It helped her breathe.
"Is this seat taken?"
The voice startled her .
Mia looked up.
He was tall—taller than she expected—and stood with an easy confidence, like he was used to navigating spaces without forcing his presence. His dark hair fell neatly across his forehead, and his face was sharp in a quiet way, defined but not intimidating. There was a calm strength in his posture, and when he smiled, it softened the angles of his jaw.
"Oh—no," she said, blinking. "You can sit."
"Thanks "
He sat beside her, long legs stretched comfortably in front of him. Up close, she noticed his eyes first—steady, thoughtful, and warm, like he was really paying attention instead of just waiting to speak.
"I'm Joon," he said.
"Mia"
He nodded slightly, as if tasting the name. "You're new, right?"
She laughed under her breath. "Is it that obvious?"
"A little," he said, smiling again. "But it suits you."
That comment lingered longer than she expected.
They talked about classes and confusing schedules, about getting lost on campus and pretending not to be. Nothing serious. Nothing rushed. Still, Mia found herself relaxing in a way she hadn't all day.
When students began to stand and move again, Joon rose too.
"Maybe I'll see you around," he said.
"I hope so," Mia replied—surprised by how easily the words came.
As he walked away, she watched him disappear into the crowd, her camera resting forgotten in her hands.
For the first time since arriving, Seoul didn't feel so big.
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