The next morning, Seoul woke to a delicate layer of frost, the kind that makes your eyelashes sparkle. Han Seo-yeon pulled her coat tighter, wishing she had remembered to bring gloves. She hated being cold, and the thought of facing another day at Seonghwa High made her stomach twist.
She reached the school gates just as the bell rang, the usual crowd of students hustling in. And, of course, Kang Ji-hoon was already there. Leaning against the wall near the entrance, arms crossed, looking as untouchable as ever. The snowflakes caught in his hair and coat made him look almost unreal, like a character out of a magazine rather than a real person.
Seo-yeon's heart skipped a beat, but she shook it off. It's just another day, she told herself. Don't get distracted.
She found her way to Room 3B and slid into her seat just as Ji-hoon dropped his bag onto the floor. Their desks were aligned like yesterday — hers by the window, his a breath away.
A few girls whispered behind her. "That's him, right? Kang Ji-hoon?"
Seo-yeon didn't answer. She had already learned the rule: don't respond to gossip. Just focus on surviving the day.
Ji-hoon, unsurprisingly, ignored the whispers. His gaze stayed fixed on the notebook in front of him, writing something with precise, deliberate strokes. Seo-yeon stole a glance — it looked like poetry. She couldn't see the words clearly, but the curves of his handwriting were meticulous, almost delicate. It was strange to think that someone who seemed so cold could write something so soft.
The teacher entered, and class began. Literature first — a subject Ji-hoon clearly excelled in, though he didn't flaunt it. As Seo-yeon struggled to concentrate, she noticed him watching her out of the corner of his eye. Every time she looked up, he looked away immediately, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn't.
By third period, whispers spread across the classroom. A new student transferring mid-year always attracted attention, but it wasn't just that. It was Ji-hoon. Sitting next to him was like standing next to a storm. Calm on the surface, but capable of overwhelming anyone who stepped too close.
During lunch, Seo-yeon decided to eat outside. The cafeteria was noisy, and she didn't want to become the center of more gossip. Snow continued to fall, soft and silent, coating the benches and walkways in white. She unwrapped her sandwich and sat alone, staring at the flakes as they melted in her hands.
"You're alone again," a familiar voice said.
Seo-yeon jumped slightly and looked up. Ji-hoon was standing there, holding a thermos. "I brought tea," he said. "Hot."
"Uh… thanks," she said, surprised. He poured some into the small cup he held out, the steam curling up in a perfect spiral.
They drank in silence at first. The warmth from the tea seeped into Seo-yeon's hands, and she felt oddly comforted. It was strange — she didn't know this boy, had barely exchanged words, and yet there was a sense of protection in his presence.
"Do you like winter?" he asked suddenly, voice low.
Seo-yeon hesitated. "I… don't mind it," she said slowly. "It's quiet."
He nodded. "Quiet is good. Most people are too loud. Too many opinions."
She looked at him curiously. "And you? Do you like it?"
Ji-hoon's gaze drifted to the snow falling around them. "I like it when it's honest," he said finally. "Snow doesn't pretend to be anything else. It just is."
Seo-yeon frowned slightly, unsure what he meant, but the words stayed with her. He spoke like someone who had seen too much but still wanted simplicity in life.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of lessons, books, and quiet glances. In Math class, she realized she couldn't keep up with his speed — not because she wasn't smart, but because he thought differently. He solved problems almost instinctively, writing formulas with a precision that seemed effortless. Seo-yeon's notebook was a mess of calculations and erased mistakes, while his pages looked like art.
After school, she gathered her things to leave when Ji-hoon appeared again.
"You're walking home?" he asked.
"Yes," she said automatically.
He fell into step beside her, hands in his pockets, eyes straight ahead. They walked in silence through the snowy streets. Seo-yeon wanted to ask him why he kept showing up, why he stayed close without saying much. But the words caught in her throat. She wasn't sure she even wanted the answer.
"You're quiet," he said eventually, as if reading her mind.
"I'm used to it," she replied.
"Not everyone survives being quiet."
Seo-yeon looked at him, confused. His expression was calm, but there was an intensity in his eyes she couldn't place. For a moment, the crowded streets and the snow outside seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, walking together, neither saying what they truly felt.
"Why are you always watching me?" she asked suddenly, unable to hide her curiosity.
Ji-hoon stopped walking for a fraction of a second, just long enough for her to feel the weight of his gaze. Then he shrugged lightly. "I don't know. I guess… you're interesting."
Seo-yeon blinked. She didn't know whether to be flattered or irritated. "Interesting? That's it?"
He gave her a faint smirk, the first she had seen. "For now."
The small moment left her heart racing. She couldn't explain why, but she felt a strange comfort being near him, even if it was frustrating. Ji-hoon was like winter itself — cold, sharp, but with hidden warmth beneath the surface.
As they reached the corner where their paths would separate, she hesitated.
"See you tomorrow," he said simply.
Seo-yeon nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Tomorrow."
And for the first time, she realized that surviving Seonghwa High might not be about keeping herself hidden. It might be about standing beside someone who sees her, even if just a little, in a city where no one else does.
Snow continued to fall, soft and steady, covering the streets of Seoul like a quiet promise. And for Seo-yeon, it felt like the start of something new — something she didn't yet understand, but couldn't ignore.