The next morning.
The younger was about to leave for school, shoes untied, bag slung half-heartedly over my shoulder, when the door across the hall creaked open.
I turned.
And there she was. Han Ji-a. Hair tied back in a ssy ponytail, still adjusting the strap of her schoolbag, her eyes still sleepy.
The girl who scolded on the train.
The girl who was forced to sit beside in class.
The girl who saw smoking in an alley.
Now, the girl who lived right across the hall.
Younger muttered, "Ah, hell..." under his breath.
Up above, I just laughed bitterly, almost fondly.
My neighbor.
Our new neighbor.
She stopped too. Our eyes collided—just for a heartbeat.
The spectral saw hers dark, guarded, and sharper eyes than the day before. Mine? Blank, as always.
Neither of us spoke.
I shoved my hands into my pockets and started walking.
Spectral groaned behind , loud and exasperated, like a tired father scolding his idiot son.
"Really? That’s it? Nothing? No greeting, no smirk, not even a sarcastic jab? You didn’t even clear your throat. You’re pathetic, you know that? Hopeless."
"And look at her—look properly this ti. Do you see it? The dark circles under her eyes, the way her shoulders are slouched? She hasn’t been sleeping, idiot. Probably working late. Probably carrying a burden you couldn’t even imagine back then. And what did you do? Walk away like a coward."
For a mont, the younger looked back at her again—her face paler than yesterday, her steps slower.
Spectral muttered, his voice thick with guilt.
"Damn it... I should’ve seen it first. I should’ve noticed. Why didn’t I notice? What the hell was I doing back then—sleeping through life, picking fights, smoking in alleys...? God, I was a selfish brat."
We ended up in the sa train carriage. Of course we did.
The morning rush hadn’t peaked yet, so a rare empty seat waited in front of . My legs instinctively moved toward it.
But then—her hand.
Han Ji-a pressed her hands lightly against my chest with force. Her eyes flicked to the old man swaying by the door. Wordlessly, she nudged him forward, practically guiding him into the seat.
He sat with a grateful bow.
The younger Ye-jun stayed standing, gripping the rail, feeling like an idiot who had just been scolded without words.
Spectral pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning.
"Here we go again. She’s schooling you in public like you’re so toddler."
Younger didn’t retaliate. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t even roll his eyes. Just leaned against the rail and kept quiet.
Spectral clapped slowly, sarcasm dripping from every word.
"Wow. Growth? No, wait. Not growth. Just surrender. At this rate, she’s the hero and you’re the NPC she keeps rescuing from himself."
By the ti we reached the school gates, the day already felt long. I was ready to disappear into the crowd when a sharp whistle cut through the air.
"Hey! You!"
A boy in a different school uniform waved over from the corner. His grin was smug, the kind of grin that begged for a fist in the face.
Younger stopped, eyes narrowing. Then, without hesitation, he followed.
Han Ji-a barely turned her head. She glanced once, almost bored, before walking through the gates like it had nothing to do with her.
Spectral groaned.
"There it is. The fork in the road. What’s behind Door Number One? Go to class, sit down, maybe survive the day bruise-free. Door Number Two? You follow so punk you don’t even know and what happens? Oh, right. You get your ass handed to you. Brilliant choice, past . Really inspiring."
Hours later, the classroom door creaked open.
The younger stepped in. My blazer hung crooked. My hair stuck out in every direction. A bruise, already deep purple, decorated my cheek.
The room hushed for a beat, then resud its usual hum. So whispered. So stared. So didn’t care.
Han Ji-a’s eyes flicked up. She saw everything.
For just a second, sothing in her gaze softened. Then she looked down, rummaged in her bag, and slid sothing across my desk—a small tube of nthol gel.
"For pain," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Younger shoved it back without looking at her. "Don’t disturb ."
Spectral slamd both palms against an invisible desk so hard it echoed.
"YOU—idiot! Do you even hear yourself? A girl—that girl—just offered you kindness. For free! And what do you do? Reject it like so stubborn, pride-drunk brat. I should drag you out of this mory and knock sense into you."
But Younger stayed silent, arms crossed, staring at the window.
Han Ji-a said nothing else. She went back to scribbling in her notebook, face unreadable.
And the mont passed. Just like that.
After school, I walked to Ye-Rin’s elentary, picked her up, and we trudged ho together.
Her chatter was a shield against the silence, her small hand tugging at mine whenever I slowed down.
Back ho, the first thing I saw was the note on the kitchen counter.
"Working late again tonight. Eat well."
Figures.
Spectral scoffed.
"Classic Mom.Not that I cared back then. She is probably with him".
Hours crawled by until the doorbell rang.
When I opened it, Han Ji-a stood there, a plate wrapped in foil balanced carefully in her hands.
"Kimchi Buchimgae," she said flatly. "Thank you. For the sweets yesterday. And... for being good neighbors."
I blinked, caught off guard. My first instinct was to push it back. Words were already forming on my tongue—cold, dismissive.
But before I could, a small whirlwind shot past .
"Kimchi Buchimgae?!"
Ye-Rin’s eyes lit up like lanterns. She grabbed the plate with both hands, beaming. "Thank you, unnie!"
Han Ji-a’s lips twitched upward, a rare almost-smile. "You’re welco."
Spectral chuckled, shaking his head.
"See that? Your kid sister has more social skills in her pinky finger than you had in your whole damn body. Smarter, braver, and she actually knows how to accept kindness. You could’ve learned from her."
Before the door closed, Han Ji-a glanced inside.
She saw Ye-Rin wagging her chopsticks like a sword, scolding with all the authority of a general. And —sitting there, silent, not daring to talk back.
For the first ti, a faint smile touched her face. Gentle. Almost hidden.
Spectral froze.
*"...She smiled.And I missed it back then."
The door shut softly.
And all that was left was the weight of the words I never said.
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