Almost perfect (or so I thought) 

Chapter six: Behind his red ears…

“C’mon, let’s get you home.” He held her hand.

——

As they walked in silence, something grew between them. Feelings. Even Mirae couldn’t find the words to break the tension.

Right before they reached Mirae’s apartment building, Minjae spotted his mom talking to Mirae’s grandma.

“Eomeoni, what are you doing here?” Minjae’s voice cracked slightly, a hint of panic breaking through as guilt flashed in his eyes.

*Eomeoni is the more formal way to say “mother” in Korean.

His mom sighed in relief at the sight of him and quickly approached them, reaching to grab his arm. Minjae stepped back, refusing her touch.

“What are you doing out so late?!” she scolded sharply. “You were supposed to be home by 5, doing your homework.”

Minjae looked away, letting out a quiet scoff, careful not to let her hear. “Eomeoni, I finished it at school.”

“That doesn’t matter!” She snapped, crossing her arms as she glanced at Mirae before reaching a conclusion. “So, it’s because of her, isn’t it?”

Mirae tried to step in, ready to explain herself, but Minjae quickly moved in front of her.

“It’s not her fault,” he said, voice tight with frustration. “Why do you always worry about everything? We were just having fun — everything isn’t about studying.”

Before Mirae could react, her grandma gently grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the heated argument between Minjae and his mom.

“Halmoni, what are you doing—”

Her grandmother cut her off, her tone calm but firm. “They need space. Come inside. I’ve made dinner.”

Mirae hesitated, glancing back at Minjae just as he looked at her. Neither of them spoke. She lowered her gaze and followed her grandma inside, guiltiness settling in her chest.

“You need to be more like your little brother. Look at him — he skipped two grades, and he’s only fifteen,” she bragged, as if she only had one son.

Minjae let out a quiet sigh. The comparisons were never-ending.

He was seventeen, a regular eleventh grader just trying to keep up. But his younger brother? He was already in tenth grade, two years ahead of his age, and the family’s constant trophy.

Minjae was fed up with her constant pushing. He got good grades, but his brother? Even better scores. He was always one step ahead.

“Omma, I’m tired of this,” he said firmly, his voice low but steady. “Why do you always have to bring this up — right here, in the middle of the neighborhood? Even in front of my friend?”

*Omma  means mom or mother. It's an informal way to refer to one's own mother, similar to saying "mommy" in English.

“I told you to stop addressing me that way!” She raised her voice. “Never call me ‘Omma’ Not until you’re ready to change.”

She grabbed his arm and dragged him into the house. His father was already there, waiting.

“Minjae. You’re grounded,” his dad said coldly, not even giving him a chance to explain. Then he turned away without another word.

Minjae walked to his room quietly, his footsteps heavy. When he opened the door, his heart sank— someone had clearly moved his things. They had gone through his stuff again.

His phone was gone, so were his games. He earned those. His parents had gifted them to him after they found out he had scored well in math.

“I don’t even have privacy in this house anymore…” he muttered, slumping down onto his bed. His chest ached, but he didn’t cry. He couldn’t.

He was used to it by now.

So instead, he got up, sat at his desk, and opened his textbook. If he couldn’t fight it, he’d survive it.

——

The next morning was quiet. Mirae hadn’t approached Minjae at all. Maybe she really was a nuisance. That day, instead of studying Minjae like usual, she focused on her textbooks.

Nari walked up to her just as she grabbed her lunch tray.

“Mirae, what’s wrong?” She asked, genuinely curious. “You haven’t spoken to Minjae once, and your face looks… down.”

“Nothing… it’s just—” Mirae lowered her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

They walked in silence and sat at an empty table. Mirae was trapped in a guilt trip, unsure of what to do or how to fix it. Nari tried to cheer her up a few times — always supportive, always trying.

“Well… it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” She gently patted her back. “I’m here if you ever do.”

Mirae looked up at her with an appreciative smile, then looked away, and went back to her original state. Nari continued patting her back, still making sure that she’s okay.

**Minjae’s POV**

I sat at the cafeteria table, hands nowhere near my lunch. I had made it myself this morning — not that it mattered. My appetite had vanished the moment I woke up. Eating at school wasn’t going to fix anything.

Mirae hadn’t even looked in my direction once. And honestly? I deserved that.

After everything my mom said to her, I didn’t even get the chance to apologize. My parents were going to keep my phone away until our last tests were over. I overheard them last night. That didn’t matter to me. The guilt. After everything… I just sat there.

Taeyang slid into the seat across from me without saying a word at first. He just started eating like usual, but I could feel him watching me.

“If you feel that bad,” he finally said, mouth half full of rice, “just apologize.”

How did he even know? Mirae didn’t tell him — she wouldn’t. Maybe Nari did.

I glanced across the room. Mirae was sitting with Nari, her lunch untouched too. She looked fine to anyone else. Smiling, laughing… but not to me. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. And her laugh? Delayed.

I ruined it.

My mom had always been good at tearing through the things I cared about. This time, Mirae got caught in it. And I hated that.

I shouldn’t have gone to karaoke — should’ve just gone straight home. But I wanted to see her smile. That mattered more to me than any scolding. If I had told my mom, she wouldn’t have listened, anyway.

The bell rang, cutting off my thoughts.

I packed up my untouched lunch and headed to class. We had self-study at the end of the day. And Mirae was definitely going to be there. I hope.

Even in class, I couldn’t focus. The teacher called my name twice, but I hadn’t heard a word of the lesson. My mind was somewhere else.

It really bothered me.

When our last period came to an end, I waited before going to the study lounge. Mirae was there. Lucky guess.

I tried catching up to her as she entered an empty classroom. I couldn’t bring myself to open the door. But I had to.

I took a deep breath and opened it. There she was, sitting at a table alone. Her eyes? Filled with tears. My heart was instantly crushed.

I didn’t know what to do. I rarely see people cry. But her? It pained me.

I knew I should’ve given her some space. But I didn’t want her to be alone. I shut the door tight.

For a moment I just stood there, thinking of what to do. Then I had an idea.

I took out my notebook and flipped to the page where I had doodled a bunch of cats. It reminded me of my uncle's cat — always grumpy, but oddly comforting.

I carefully ripped out the page and held it up in front of my face like a shield. This was probably the most embarrassing thing I’d ever done, and I was about to make it worse.

“Mirae,” I said, clearing my throat. My voice came out deep, too deep for what I was going for. I needed to fix that.

“My name is Minmin. Or you can call me Minjae-yah… Minbun… Min-toast?” I tried to raise my pitch, but nope. Still deep. When did my voice get this low?

“I don’t like seeing you cry,” I continued. “Neither do these cats. They’re very emotional, you know.” I lowered the paper slightly. “You should smile more instead. It suits you.”

This was beyond embarrassing now.

“I’m sorry,” I added quietly. “For everything. And so are my cat friends. We—we really don’t know what we’d do without you.”

I still couldn’t see her face. Maybe she was still crying. Or maybe she was smiling. I had no idea. But either way, I knew this was a moment I’d never forget.

I finally lowered the paper, still refusing to meet her eyes. I turned my face quickly, staring at anything but her.

Then I felt it.

She was standing in front of me — closer than before. Her presence was warm. Her body is just inches away from mine.

My heart started beating really fast. I hoped she didn’t notice.

Unexpectedly, she started fixing my bangs. A chill ran down my spine as her fingers combed through my hair gently. I could feel my face heating up — including my ears.

“Minmin, your hair is a mess…” she murmured, flipping through the strands like she’d done it a hundred times before.

I just stood there and let it happen.

“I forgive you. It wasn’t your fault. It was mine,” she whispered.

Was she serious? I was the one who let things get out of hand. She didn’t deserve the blame.

“No, don’t say that,” I said, gently holding her arm. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I shouldn’t have let my mom get involved in the first place.”

We both stood there, unsure of what to do next. I could hear faint voices from the hallway, but for once, I didn’t care where we were. This moment mattered more.

Then, Mirae held out her pinky with a soft smile. “No more sad Minjae, deal?”

She looked the cutest when she smiled like that.

“Only if you promise to stop blaming yourself,” I said, linking my pinky with hers.

“No, you should stop,” she teased back. “Stop putting all the burden on yourself.”

I let out a small laugh. “Deal.”

And just like that, the weight in my chest started to lift.

She was the first person who ever made me feel this way. She was the first person to make me smile like that.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. But right now, in this empty classroom with her, everything felt just a little more bearable.

And maybe, just maybe... I wasn’t so alone anymore.

**END OF CHAPTER SIX**

*book inspired by 'When I fly towards you'*