For once, Seorin’s PE class had been moved to the gymnasium.

Even before the doors were fully open, the sounds from inside reached her first—the sharp echo of basketballs striking the floor, sneakers squealing across polished wood, brief shouts ricocheting beneath the high ceiling of the sports hall.

The moment she stepped inside, Seorin’s pace slowed.

Her fingers paused at the cuff of her tracksuit sleeve when her gaze landed on Kang Ara in the middle of the court.

Ara looked different on the court.

Sharper.

Every movement cut cleanly through the air. Her dark hair flicked with each quick turn.

Even her voice sounded different.

Lower. Clearer.

Seorin’s eyes followed her without drifting elsewhere for a second—the way Ara dribbled with her shoulder lowered, slipping lightly past defenders, then leaping so effortlessly that the basketball hoop seemed lower than it should have been.

The ball dropped through the net with a clean swish.

Ara didn’t even glance toward the gym doors.

Until—

“We’ll be using the gym for the practical gymnastics exam.”

The PE teacher’s voice cut through the practice.

“We only need about an hour. Are you still training?”

One by one, the bouncing basketballs stopped.

The players finally turned.

And at that exact moment, Ara’s gaze landed directly on Seorin.

Ara stood at center court, her breathing still uneven. A few strands of hair clung lightly to her temples. The instant their eyes met, the corner of her mouth moved.

Just slightly.

So quickly it almost looked involuntary.

As if her body had reacted before she could stop it.

Nobody answered the teacher right away.

Instead, the basketball players exchanged glances before gradually turning toward Ara.

But Ara was still looking at Seorin.

The PE teacher repeated the question.

“Oh—sorry.”

Ara blinked slowly, as though only now returning to herself.

“Please go ahead and use the court.”

The corner of Seorin’s lips twitched upward too.

“We were just—”

One of the players started to protest, but Ara cut him off.

“They need the court for their exam.” She grabbed a towel from the players’ bench. “And we need a break anyway.”

Her tone was casual, but it was enough to end the discussion.

One by one, the basketball players filed out, muttering under their breath.

Ara, meanwhile, settled calmly at the edge of the court.

A basketball spun lazily on her fingertip.

Every so often, her gaze lifted toward the mats where Seorin stood.

Seorin quickly looked away and started stretching.

The gym floor felt cold even through the soles of her shoes.

Yet from the side of the court, that gaze never truly disappeared.

The back of her neck began to stiffen.

Her fingers felt cold too.

PE practical exams had always been the part she wanted to get through as quickly as possible.

One name after another was called.

Forward roll.
She passed.
Backward roll.
Not perfect, but acceptable.

Jump.

She failed the landing.

Laughter immediately broke out somewhere behind her.

Seorin stood up too quickly, the toe of her shoe scraping harshly against the mat.

The bridge pose was last.

Her palms pressed into the mat, but her body refused to lift all the way. Her arms trembled before her back dropped down again with a loud thud.

This time, the laughter was clearer.

Someone even clapped briefly before stopping when the PE teacher looked over.

Seorin sat down immediately.

Her breathing came short.

Her bangs had fallen into disarray, partially covering her eyes.

“I failed too.”

Dongchul crouched beside the mat and held out a bottle of water.

Seorin accepted it without saying much.

Her fingertips were still cold when they brushed the plastic.

She spent far too long unscrewing the cap before finally taking a drink.

The sound of laughter still lingered faintly behind her.

***

“Han Seorin! Wait!”

Seorin stopped near the school gates.

Kang Ara jogged after her from behind, slightly out of breath, as if she'd only just finished practice.

“You’re heading to the bus stop, right?”

Seorin nodded.

A faint crease appeared between her brows.

The bus stop was directly in front of the school gate. Ara obviously knew that.

“Let’s go together.”

Seorin blinked.

She had never heard a request like that from Ara before.

Letting out a quiet breath, she rolled her eyes and started walking again.

Yet another set of footsteps continued beside her.

“Han Seorin…”

Seorin didn’t answer.

She kept walking straight ahead.

Though her pace slowed slightly.

The afternoon air had turned cooler than it had been a few weeks ago. The wind carried the faint scent of dried leaves from the roadside trees.

When they reached the bus stop, an old memory surfaced on its own.

The same bus stop.

Rain.

The blue jacket that had covered her head that day.

This time, the sky remained clear.

There was no rain at the end of summer.

And this time, Seorin didn’t move away while standing beside Ara.

The bus arrived a few minutes later.

Seorin boarded first.

She chose a window seat. The seat beside her remained empty.

Her gaze moved from the empty seat to Ara, then back again.

Silently.

Ara walked closer.

Almost sat down.

But stopped when a woman carrying a baby stepped onto the bus.

Ara immediately stepped aside and gave up the seat.

Seorin lightly gripped the skirt over her knees.

A faint smile appeared when the woman sat beside her.

A little stiff.

As usual, she put on her earphones and turned on her music at a low volume.

Her gaze shifted to the window.

The leaves along the roadside were beginning to change color.

Autumn was coming.

The bus traveled for quite a while before stopping at a bus stop that felt unfamiliar.

The woman beside her got off first.

Ara immediately slid into the empty seat without a word.

Her shoulder brushed Seorin’s arm briefly as she sat down.

Seorin immediately turned back toward the window.

The bus stop still felt unfamiliar.

“Where are you going?”

No answer.

Ara seemed more interested in watching the road outside.

“Wait... where are you going?”

This time Seorin turned sharply.

“What do you mean? I’m going home.”

The name of the next stop flashed on the small display near the bus door.

Her stop had passed quite a while ago.

She pressed a hand to her temple.

They hurried off before the bus started moving again.

“Why didn’t you tell me when we passed my stop?”

Seorin quickly pulled out her phone and opened her contacts.

“I thought you were heading somewhere,” Ara said casually.

Seorin’s hand froze above the screen.

“So you were... following me?”

“I told you we were going together.” Ara slipped her hands into the pockets of her hoodie, standing casually near the bus stop. “Wherever you go, I go.”

“Ara.”

“I was bored.”

The answer was delivered so lightly that Seorin closed her eyes for several seconds.

“Because you were bored, we now have to spend an extra hour getting back.”

She tapped the call button.

“I’m calling Dad.”

The dial tone hadn’t even begun when her hand suddenly stopped.

Ara had gently caught her wrist.

“Let’s watch a movie.”

Seorin fell silent.

The call ended before it could connect.

Ara was already standing, pulling her away from the bus stop.

Slowly, Seorin lowered her phone.

The afternoon breeze stirred Ara’s hair as she walked ahead of her.

At last, the corner of Seorin’s mouth lifted.

This time, following Ara didn’t feel so bad.

***

A few minutes later, they were standing in front of the ticket counter.

“Come on.”

Once again, Seorin simply followed Ara into the theater.

The auditorium lights were still dimly lit when they took their seats.

The air conditioning bit at her fingertips.

Her thoughts were still moving too fast by the time the movie started.

A while later, something brushed the back of her hand where it rested on the armrest.

Then wrapped around it.

Seorin turned her head.

Ara was staring at the screen without blinking. Her jaw tightened slightly whenever the movie’s soundtrack grew tense.

The scarier the scene became, the tighter the grip.

Ara’s fingertips felt cold.

Seorin looked back at the screen.

Her hand remained still beneath that grip.

Even when the auditorium lights came on and people started leaving their seats, the hand still hadn’t let go.

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?”

A quiet laugh finally escaped Seorin.

Ara’s face looked pale beneath the theater lights.

They walked out together with the flow of people.

Ara’s steps were slightly slower than usual.

***

“I’m never watching that movie again.”

“It wasn’t scary.” Seorin took a slow sip of her soda. “Not even a little.”

“Just imagine it. The ghost’s head comes off and then—”

Ara immediately hunched her shoulders with a look of discomfort.

Another laugh nearly slipped out.

“Kang Ara... basketball captain...” The corners of Seorin’s lips curled upward. “Strong, charming, and afraid of ghosts?”

“So you admit I’m charming?”

Seorin nearly choked on her drink.

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you agree, right?”

Narrowing her eyes, Seorin set her cup down a little harder than necessary.

Her phone suddenly rang.

The name on the screen made her fingers tense immediately.

“Hello...”

Her voice came out too quickly.

“Dad just got off shift,” her father said from the other end. “I’m near your area now. Is your group project finished?”

Seorin’s gaze immediately shifted to Ara.

Ara was resting her chin in her hand, idly playing with her straw.

“If you’re done, I’ll pick you up.”

“No.”

The answer came out far too fast.

Seorin immediately pressed her lips together.

“I’m heading home with a friend.”

The call ended a few minutes later.

She lowered her phone slowly.

Her nails left faint marks on the phone case.

“Do you have to go home already?”.

Seorin nodded.

***

The bus never came.

In the end, they took a taxi.

Streetlights stretched across the window glass throughout the ride. Seorin kept looking outside without truly focusing on anything.

 “Seorin.”

Ara’s voice was quieter than usual.

“What?”

“I’m just sleepy.”

Seorin kept staring out the window.

Several seconds passed before Ara spoke again.

“I know something’s wrong.”

Her voice was low, nearly swallowed by the hum of the engine.

“There’s no way you’d be so distracted that you missed your stop.”

Ara didn’t continue.

She simply waited.

Seorin drew a short breath.

“Back there today...” Her fingers tightened around the hem of her skirt. “I looked like such a loser, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I failed the gymnastics exam.” Her gaze dropped to the reflection of passing lights in the window. “And everyone laughed.”

Instead, the corner of Ara’s mouth lifted.

“Then your class is full of losers.”

Seorin immediately turned toward her in protest.

“Seorin, you weren’t the only one who failed. Almost everyone in your class failed.”

“Only five people have to retake it.”

“They still failed in my eyes.”

Seorin smacked Ara on the shoulder.

Pretty hard.

Ara laughed and rubbed the spot.

“Come on. At least you tried.” Ara leaned back comfortably against the taxi seat. “Besides, they’ll forget about it tomorrow.”

Seorin’s fingers stopped moving against her skirt.

“Oh.” Ara immediately straightened. “I mean—”

“There’s nothing wrong with failing,” she added quickly. “And I’m pretty sure none of them can beat your grades anyway.”

“But...” Ara tilted her head slightly as she looked at her, “I might still be able to beat you.”

One corner of her mouth curved up first, as though she had been waiting to say it all along.

“I can help you get a perfect score.”

Seorin slowly turned toward her.

“What are you going to do?”

Ara met her gaze.

“Come with me this weekend.”

Her voice was low.

“Then you’ll find out.”

Passing streetlights slid across the taxi, briefly illuminating the space between them.

That gaze never wavered until the taxi came to a stop at the next red light.