The tip of Seorin's pencil stalled over her math worksheet whenever her phone lit up beside the desk lamp.

And before she could finish reading the numbers in front of her, her hand would already be reaching for it.

She unlocked the screen.

No new messages.

She set the phone back down carefully.

A few minutes later, the exact same thing happened again.

In the end, Seorin turned the screen off a little harder than necessary.

“That’s none of my business,” she muttered.

She had barely made it through a single sentence when a knock sounded at her bedroom door.

Her shoulders jolted.

The door opened slightly, and her mother appeared in the doorway.

“Am I bothering you?”

Seorin shook her head immediately.

“No.”

Her mother stepped inside carrying a clear laundry bag. Inside was a dark blue piece of clothing that Seorin recognized instantly, even before the plastic was fully lifted.

The jacket.

“I’m confused,” her mother said, raising the bag slightly. “Every time I send this back to the cleaners, they send it right back here. They keep insisting it belongs to us.”

Seorin’s heartbeat quickened.

“Do you own something like this?”

She was already on her feet before her mother could unfold the jacket any further.

“Ah... that’s mine, Mom.”

She quickly took it from her hands and held it against her chest for a few seconds before lowering it.

Her mother remained where she stood.

“Since when?”

The question made Seorin automatically smooth out the wrinkled edge of the plastic bag.

“It’s not actually mine.”

Her voice had gone quieter.

“A friend lent it to me.”

Her mother studied her for a few moments longer.

“Then hurry up and return it to Dongchul.”

“What?”

“It’s Dongchul’s, isn’t it? Who else would lend you a jacket?”

Seorin nodded.

“Oh, right,” her mother said before turning toward the door. “How was practice yesterday?”

“It was okay.”

“Don’t let it interfere with your studies.”

“I won’t.”

The door closed softly.

Her mother’s footsteps gradually faded down the hallway.

Seorin sat back down, but the book in front of her remained open and untouched. The dark blue jacket still rested across her lap.

She slowly drew one sleeve through her fingers.

The scent of laundry detergent was stronger now.

It clung to the fabric—clean and cool—so thoroughly that the faint trace of another scent that used to linger there had almost completely disappeared.

Her fingers remained curled around the cuff for several more seconds before she finally folded the jacket again.

***

The next morning, the air still carried a thin chill when Seorin arrived at the school gates.

She had barely taken a few steps inside when someone fell into stride beside her.

She didn’t even need to look.

“Did you get home safely yesterday?”

Her pace slowed for a moment.

She let out a quiet breath before finally turning her head.

"Do I look like something happened to me?"

Ara blinked.

“If I wasn’t fine, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

She immediately faced forward and continued walking before Ara could respond.

“Han Seorin... sorry.”

Her steps didn’t slow.

“Hey, Han Seorin.”

Ara’s footsteps stayed beside hers.

“Right now, you really look like her.”

The comment brought Seorin to an abrupt stop in the middle of the walkway.

Her brows drew together instantly.

“Look like who?”

“Her.”

Ara pointed toward Seorin’s bag.

Her gaze followed the gesture and landed on the small bear keychain dangling beside the zipper, its grumpy little face swaying gently.

Seorin immediately pulled the strap a little closer to herself.

Several silent seconds passed.

“Who’s her?” Seorin finally asked.

“The bear character.”

Seorin briefly closed her eyes and rolled them.

“Not that.”

She looked back at Ara.

“The one from yesterday.”

Students streamed around them. Behind her, the school gates opened and closed in a steady rhythm.

“The one who said she missed you.”

The last sentence came out quieter.

Ara was silent for a moment.

“Just an old friend.”

Seorin shifted her gaze straight ahead toward the school building.

Eventually, Ara rubbed the back of her neck.

“Her name’s Jung Da Som. We went to the same school.”

Her voice was lower now.

“Our relationship is... complicated.”

Seorin kept walking.

The thin leaves along the roadside rustled in the morning breeze. Their shoes alternated against the pavement, still damp from earlier.

“I already told her not to come looking for me anymore,” Ara continued. “But yesterday she showed up on her own.”

She paused before adding,

“She’s not important.”

Seorin’s pace slowed slightly on the wet paving stones.

“If she’s not important,” she said quietly, “then why did you go with her?”

The instant the question left her mouth, Ara’s steps faltered for half a second.

A short breath escaped her, almost like a laugh.

Seorin immediately added,

“I mean... leaving Minji, Dongchul, and me.”

Her fingers tightened around the strap on her shoulder until the fabric of her uniform shifted crookedly with it.

“Da Som’s stubborn,” Ara said at last. “If I’d ignored her yesterday, she would’ve stayed there.”

Ara glanced at her briefly.

“And she would’ve kept bothering your table.”

They passed the school field, which was already beginning to fill with students. The distant sound of a basketball echoed faintly through the morning air.

“So I took her away.”

Ara rubbed the back of her neck again.

"Better me than anyone else."

Seorin said nothing.

Their shoes continued moving side by side along the same path.

“I promise,” Ara said quietly after several more steps, “Da Som won’t show up between us again.”

Seorin immediately turned her face away.

“I don’t care.”

The words came out before Ara had even finished looking at her.

She quickened her pace without glancing sideways.

“Hearing that question just now...” Ara said.

There was a trace of restrained laughter at the edge of her voice.

“Why does it make me think you were jealous?”

Seorin’s steps cut faster across the wet pavement.

Their footsteps gradually drifted apart along the rain-darkened path.

She didn’t look back again, even though she could still hear Ara’s footsteps following behind her.