Sept 2012.

Senior, High School.

Months had slipped by since that day, and neither of us had made a move to bridge the gap. We went through each day as if we had never been friends at all, passing each other like strangers in the halls. The silence between us became routine, a sort of unspoken agreement that lasted until the new semester started at the end of summer.

"Ugh... When will fall come?" I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow as I approached the school gate, the lingering heat of summer clinging uncomfortably to my skin.

Just then, an arm wrapped firmly around my neck. "Quit whining like a kid," Shiwoo teased, grinning as he pulled me into a quick side hug.

I scowled, pushing his hand off me. "Get off me—it's too hot for this!"

But Shiwoo's eyes sparkled with mischief as he tightened his hold, pulling me into an exaggerated, bear-like embrace. "Oh yeah?" he said with a laugh, squeezing me tight. "Here you go more, then!"

"Ugh! Let go!" I groaned, wriggling to escape as he only laughed harder.

Turning my head to catch a breath, I caught sight of Haru leaning against the wall outside the building, watching us. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on us in a way that felt oddly distant, almost detached.

My gaze lingered on him, an unexpected pang settling in my chest as Shiwoo finally loosened his grip and began walking again, unaware of the silent tension hanging in the air.

"Why are you just standing there?" Shiwoo asked, glancing over his shoulder. His gaze followed mine, landing on Haru, who was now heading into the building.

I looked away and started walking again, mumbling, "It's nothing."

Shiwoo raised an eyebrow, studying me. "So... when are you two going to reconcile?"

I shrugged, avoiding his gaze. I didn't have an answer, or maybe I just didn't want to admit it.

"I don't know what you guys fought about, but you need to stop holding grudges. You always do this, and one day this behavior is going to leave you isolated and—"

"If you don't know what's going on, then maybe you should stay out of it," I interrupted, huffing as I stepped into the building and quickened my pace.

Shiwoo, undeterred, caught up with me, his voice insistent. "Tomorrow is his birthday! The best time to reconcile! Easy peasy!"

"Will you shut up?" I glared at him, feeling irked.

He smiled in response and headed to his classroom, finally leaving me alone.

Shiwoo is so damn annoying...

Entering the classroom, I headed to my desk and glanced toward the front row, where Haru was seated, just like last year. His back was to me, his head lowered as he flipped through his notes.

Tomorrow is his birthday?

I leaned over my desk, shielding my face within the cradle of my arms, and let out a heavy sigh, feeling utterly bewildered.

What should I do?...

It still bothers me how he just put me aside rather than admitting his fault...

However, I hate ending things with him this way for a mere mistake...

Maybe, just this once, I should take the initiative...

All I want is an apology...

*****

I rang the doorbell, standing outside Haru's apartment with a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. I clutched the straps of the paper bag in my hands, the gift inside feeling heavier than it should. "I'll just give him this and leave," I mumbled to myself. "Maybe this wasn't such a great idea... should I just go ba—"

The door swung open, cutting off my train of thought. Haru's mother stood there, her expression blank but piercing, her gaze freezing me in place.

"Long time no see, Park Myung," she said, her tone sharp with a hint of sarcasm.

I forced a polite smile. "How have you been, ma'am?"

She stood still, her lips curling into a slight smirk. "Quite well, thank you."

"Good to hear," I replied awkwardly, glancing down for a moment before asking, "Um, is Haru home?"

She raised an eyebrow, her tone growing colder. "Since I hadn't heard from you in some time, I assumed you two were no longer friends. Was I wrong?"

"I..." The words caught my throat as I looked away, feeling more anxious under her steely gaze. I shouldn't have come...

"Mom, who's at the door?" Haru's voice called from somewhere inside, prompting me to look up.

His mother turned, glancing back at him. "Your friend is here." She then looked back at me, her tone neutral but formal. "Come in, Park Myung."

"Yes, thank you." I stepped inside, removing my shoes as I glanced around, finally catching Haru's gaze. He stood a few feet away, looking surprised and slightly wary as his mother turned and walked into the living room.

"Hey," I managed, feeling my own awkwardness weigh down every word. Why am I so bad at starting conversations?

Before I could say anything more, Haru grabbed my wrist, pulling me down the hall and into his room. He closed the door behind us and pinned me gently against the wall near the door, his expression serious and confused.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice low, a mix of tension and curiosity in his eyes.

"I heard tomorrow is your birthday," I said, feeling my heart race. "So, I came to give you your gift." I lifted the paper bag into the small space between us. If he kicks me out now, that'll be beyond embarrassing...

Haru glanced down, reaching for the bag, his expression softening slightly as he murmured, "My gift...?" He pulled out the framed sketch, his eyes widening as he took in the drawing.

The sketch was one I'd drawn months ago; from the day I'd watched him play basketball. It captured him in mid-air, near the hoop, about to slam the ball in—a moment of his captivating aura.

Does he like it or not? I wondered, feeling a rush of nerves as I watched him. Maybe it's time to go, I thought. I gave him his present; there is no reason to stay—

Before I could move, Haru wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into a hug. He rested his head in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin as he murmured, "Thank you..."

I flinched slightly at the unexpected closeness, his breath sending a shiver down my spine. "You're... welcome, I guess," I managed, feeling my face heat up as I stood there, caught in his embrace.

Haru held me a moment longer, and just as I started to pull back, he held on a bit tighter, as if gathering the nerve to say something. I felt him take a slow, steady breath, his head resting against my shoulder.

"Myung..." he murmured, his tone softer than I'd ever heard it. Pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes were steady and searching. "I'm sorry for what I did." His left hand stayed firm on my arm, as if afraid I'd vanish. "I was a jerk to you, I don't know why. But I've regretted it since the night I left you."

Hearing those words made my chest tighten. Part of me had waited so long to hear this, but somehow, it felt sharper in person. "Well," I muttered, shrugging stiffly and looking to the side, "at least you know you are a jerk."

Haru's eyes softened even further, and he let out a small, almost nervous laugh. "I really like you, Myung," he said, and I turned back to meet his gaze. "You're just... a golden-hearted person." A faint smile pulled at his lips, his expression warm and open—the coldness of before was gone.

I lightly kicked him in the shin, feeling flustered. "Of course I am! You're lucky I came here after you acted like a total jackass."

He winced in discomfort, yet his grin remained vibrant as he responded, "I promise I'll make it up to you."

I narrowed my eyes skeptically and shot back, "You'd better keep your word."

*****

After that night, Haru and I slowly rebuilt our friendship. It didn't happen overnight, but once I decided to let go of what had happened and he genuinely apologized, we settled back into something familiar. In fact, our friendship felt even closer, like we'd broken through a wall that had been there all along.

With the start of our final year of high school, life quickly filled up with responsibilities and relentless preparation for university entrance exams. Suddenly, everything revolved around that one looming goal, the thing that would determine our next chapter and where we'd both end up. It felt like our lives had shrunk down to textbooks, assignments, and stacks of practice exams, but we kept each other grounded, aware that everything was about to change.

Our usual carefree hangouts turned into structured study sessions. Free afternoons became rare, and our late-night conversations often faded into discussions about which subjects we'd tackled that week and which still had us stuck. Whenever we studied together, we'd share long silences over our notes. The only sounds were the scratching of pens or the occasional sigh of frustration. Sometimes, Haru would break the monotony with a quiet joke or a funny drawing in his notebook, giving me just enough of a laugh to keep going.

Days blurred into a continuous loop of studying, eating, and trying to get a few hours of sleep before diving back in again. Weekends were no longer a break but rather extra hours to fit in more revision. We were exhausted but determined, both of us feeling the weight of the future pressing down on us. Still, even through the endless routine, we found small moments of relief—quick laughs, shared glances of sympathy, and the quiet support that only close friends could give.

As grueling as it was, that final year brought us closer in a new way. We became more than just friends; we were each other's support, pushing each other through the difficult days and into whatever came next.

In the blink of an eye, we found ourselves stepping into adulthood, launching into the next phase of our lives as university students.

Haru had been accepted into one of the country's top universities, where he was set to major in business management. It was a perfect fit for him, and he wore his acceptance with quiet pride, already envisioning the opportunities ahead. As for me, I was headed to nursing school, just like my dad wanted me to.

Looking back now, I realize how naive I was to think everything would fall into place once we got to university. I thought getting accepted was the hard part, and that life would start making sense from there. But I had no idea what adulthood would truly be like, or how unprepared I was for everything it would demand.