CHAPTER 11
The last bell rang, echoing through the hallways.
Students rushed out laughing, shouting, running… but Ji-eun stayed at her desk, packing slowly.
Min-jun watched her from the doorway.
He didn't know when it started — this habit of waiting for her.
He didn't even pretend to leave first anymore.
When she finally stepped out, he fell into step beside her like it was the most natural thing.
They walked through the school gates, the sky turning soft pink above them.
Ji-eun hugged her books to her chest.
Min-jun kept his hands in his pockets, walking a little closer than usual.
For a while, neither spoke.
The air between them felt full — like something unspoken was quietly growing.
Finally, Ji-eun broke the silence.
"You don't have club activities today?"
"No."
He glanced at her.
"I wanted to walk with you."
Her steps faltered for just a second.
Min-jun pretended not to notice, but inside, his heart kicked hard.
They reached the quiet part of the street, where the trees lined up like a tunnel.
A cold breeze brushed past, and Ji-eun shivered slightly.
Without thinking, Min-jun moved closer, his shoulder touching hers.
"…Cold?" he murmured.
"A little."
He hesitated, then gently tugged her sleeve so she walked even closer.
It wasn't a hug.
It wasn't a handhold.
But it felt like something that could easily become both.
Ji-eun looked up at him, surprised by how soft his eyes were today.
"Min-jun… did something happen?" she asked.
He swallowed.
A lot had happened.
Every day with her felt different.
Every moment near her felt dangerous — like he was one step away from something he couldn't take back.
"…I was just thinking," he said quietly.
"About what?"
He looked straight ahead, unable to meet her eyes.
"You."
The word slipped out before he could stop it.
Ji-eun stopped walking.
Min-jun stopped too, realizing what he just said.
He turned slowly toward her, heart shaking in his chest.
Ji-eun's eyes were wide — not scared, not upset… just shocked.
He forced a laugh, rubbing his neck.
"Forget it. I didn't mean—"
"Don't," she whispered.
He froze.
Ji-eun stepped closer, her voice barely above the breeze.
"Don't pretend you didn't mean it."
His breath caught.
For the first time, Min-jun couldn't hide behind coldness, or silence, or excuses.
He looked at her — really looked — and felt something tighten painfully in his chest.
"…Ji-eun," he said softly.
But before he could say more, a car horn echoed from the road.
They both jumped, the moment cracking like glass.
Ji-eun blinked, taking a tiny step back.
Min-jun clenched his fists, frustrated at the interruption — frustrated at himself.
But the look in her eyes…
It told him she heard everything he didn't say.
And maybe… she felt something too.
Their walk home continued, quieter but warmer — like something new had begun, too fragile and too precious to name yet.