Han Jae-min meets his first love when he is still too young to understand what love is.

Mina is quiet, capable, and distant in a way that makes her unforgettable. As children, they share small moments—laughter, borrowed pencils, unspoken comfort—that end abruptly when Jae-min transfers schools. They part without tears, believing they still have time.

Years later, they meet again in college.
The familiarity remains. The feelings resurface. But Mina now belongs to someone else.

Jae-min becomes the one who listens, the one who stays, the one she leans on when her world grows heavy. He never confesses. He never crosses the line. He chooses silence again and again, believing that loving her means not taking anything from her.

Until exhaustion replaces hope.

Until timing proves cruel.

When Jae-min dies in an accident on a rainy night, Mina is left with unanswered messages, unread emotions, and a truth she realizes too late.

They met twice in one lifetime—
and both times, they missed each other.

Lila noticed it first in the way conversations hushed when she passed, in the sideways glances that lingered just a second too long. Nothing explicit was said, yet something had shifted—like a note held too long, vibrating uncomfortably in the air.


Kieran kept his distance. Not out of cruelty, but caution. He sat near the windows now, eyes fixed on the sky as if measuring the wind's patience. Every time Lila thought he might look at her, he didn't. And somehow, that hurt more.


During a free period, she found herself standing outside an unused classroom. The door was slightly open. Inside, dust floated lazily in the light—and she could feel it again. That strange pressure. A hum beneath the silence.


Some doors, she sensed, were not meant to be opened yet.


Chapter 5 - Between Classes