The morning sun filtered through the dusty classroom windows, landing directly on Junjeo's notebook like it was personally trying to expose how little he had written. He squinted, adjusted in his seat, and gave the sun a glare that said,Please. Not today.

But the sun, being the sun, ignored him completely.

The classroom was already buzzing—not with energy, but with that slow, half-awake chatter that only 14-year-olds who slept at midnight could produce. Some kids were copying homework, some were complaining about the homework, some were copying the complaints of the kids copying homework.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun was slumped beside Junjeo, face pressed into his folded arms.

"Junjeo," Yeonjun whispered dramatically, not lifting his head, "I'm dying."

"You say this every morning," Junjeo replied.

"Yes, and every morning I'm right."

Junjeo smirked and tapped Yeonjun's back with his pencil. "You stayed up watching that zombie show again, didn't you?"

Yeonjun sat up like a resurrected ghoul. "BRO. The new episode—"

"No spoilers," Junjeo cut him off.

"But—"

"No."

Yeonjun groaned loudly enough for the whole bench to shake, and Junjeo tried not to laugh.It was hard to say out loud, but these silly moments... they meant something to him.Made the world feel softer.Made this place feel like it was becoming his, slowly—even if he still wasn't used to how chaotic mornings were here compared to the quiet, tidy ones he once knew.

Their teacher walked in, a pile of books in her hands.

"Good morning, class."

A robotic chorus responded, "Good morning, ma'am."

Junjeo flipped open his notebook. Yeonjun flipped open... nothing, because he forgot his notebook. Again.

"Can I borrow a page?" Yeonjun whispered.

Junjeo sighed and tore one out.

"You're my soulmate," Yeonjun said dramatically.

"No," Junjeo replied instantly.

Yeonjun grinned. "It's okay, denial is part of the journey."

Junjeo rubbed his forehead. Chaos. Only chaos.But the kind that didn't scare him anymore.The kind that made him feel less foreign, less like the new kid from somewhere more structured, more disciplined, more quiet.Here, everything was loud, unpredictable, messy—but somehow warm.

Classes dragged, as usual.

Math class made Junjeo rethink his life decisions.Science class made Yeonjun spill water on the table.PE class made both of them realize their stamina was probably inherited from extremely lazy ancestors.

Lunchtime was loud—kids shouting, trading food, some groups having deep philosophical discussions about why the school fan never worked properly.

Junjeo ate quietly, listening, laughing at Yeonjun's bad jokes, pretending he didn't actually like hanging out like this.Sometimes, while watching everyone talk over each other, he would remember how lunchtimes used to be in a different place—calmer, more orderly, voices lower, footsteps softer.But now... this noisy version grew on him.It felt alive.

And then—finally—the last bell rang.

Freedom.

"So," Yeonjun said as they stepped out into the warm afternoon, "basketball today?"

Junjeo adjusted his bag strap. "Yeah. After I go home for a bit."

Yeonjun grinned. "Good. Because today—"

He paused dramatically.Junjeo braced himself.

"—I will DESTROY you."

"You lost last time," Junjeo reminded him.

"That was a warm-up."

"You tripped over your own foot."

"That was a strategic miscalculation."

Junjeo shook his head, smiling. They walked past familiar streets—the stationery shop, the faded yellow wall Yeonjun once tried to jump and failed, earning a scraped knee and eternal embarrassment.

Warm breeze.Distant car horns.Their footsteps matching without trying.

Just another ordinary walk home.Somehow always comforting.Junjeo didn't realize when this walk stopped feeling unfamiliar and started feeling like routine—the good kind, the grounding kind.

When their paths split, Yeonjun raised his hand."Six o'clock! Don't be late!"

"You're always the one late."

"Don't expose me."

And he ran off.

Junjeo looked after him, chuckling softly, then headed home.

The sun was setting when Junjeo reached the playground. Kids were running, dogs were wandering, uncles were doing their suspiciously dramatic exercises.

Yeonjun arrived ten minutes late.

Junjeo raised an eyebrow.

"I GOT HELD UP," Yeonjun insisted.

"By what? Gravity?"

"By destiny."

Junjeo tossed the ball at him. "Just play."

And they did.

They argued.They laughed.Yeonjun cheated three times.Junjeo pretended not to notice once.

At one point, Yeonjun tripped again.

Junjeo paused. "...Should I call someone?"

"No—this is part of my technique."

"You lying on the ground is a technique?"

"Yes. Mind games."

Junjeo just stared.

"Help me up," Yeonjun said weakly.

Junjeo pulled him up, shaking his head. "Hopeless."

The sky turned dark slowly—orange to pink to purple.Kids went home.Lights flickered on.

Junjeo felt light.Sweaty.But light.Moments like this reminded him that he wasn't just adjusting—he was belonging.The ache of missing his old structured life softened a little more each day.

The smell of warm bread and boiled eggs greeted him when he entered the house.

"You're late," his mom said, arranging plates.

"Basketball," Junjeo answered.

His older brother peeked in from the other room."Did you lose?"

"No," Junjeo replied.

The brother smirked. "Liar."

Junjeo rolled his eyes and sat down.

Dinner was simple—warm food, soft conversation, teasing between brothers, his mother scolding both of them equally.

The kind of dinner that settles in your chest like comfort.Different from the quiet dinners he once knew, but not worse.Just... fuller.

Afterward, Junjeo went to his room, played music on low volume, lying on his bed watching the ceiling dance with faint light patterns.

Music made everything slower. Softer.Made him feel understood without using words.

He didn't realize when his eyes drifted shut.

Just the soft melody.The quiet room.And the world gently fading.

Seven seas away, the morning light touched a different window.

Yuni blinked awake slowly, chest tight with nerves and hope all tangled together.Her first day in a new city school.

The ceiling felt unfamiliar.The sounds outside felt unfamiliar.Her heart felt... too fast.

Aeris, already awake, jumped on her bed. "Yuni! It's your big day!"

She groaned. "Why are you like this in the morning..."

"Because I'm built different," he declared proudly.

Yuni sat up, rubbing her eyes, hair sticking out on one side.Her breath puffed out in a warm sigh.

New city.New school.New everything.

Her mother entered with a soft smile."Good morning. Breakfast is ready. Take your time, sweetheart."

Yuni nodded, her stomach twisting gently.

When she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting her hair, she whispered—"It'll be fine... right?"

The mirror didn't answer.

But the morning light felt warm on her face.Her new room didn't feel as scary today.And the city outside hummed with possibility—maybe loud, maybe unfamiliar, but not unfriendly.

She slipped on her shoes, picked up her backpack, and inhaled deeply.

"Let's try," she whispered.

Just a beginning.Just a morning.Just the first step.

And somewhere else, under another sky, a boy named Junjeo slept peacefully after a long, ordinary day—not knowing their stories had already taken the first tiny step toward each other.

                                                                                 🖤🖤🖤

This is the end of Chapter 13!Guys, please comment your feelings about this chapter!