A cool, fragile upperclassman × a forthright, healing underclassman
I first saw her in a corner of the cafeteria.
She ordered only a bowl of free soup, gnawed on a steamed bun, and had a mark on her lower lip from biting it over and over.
Later, I brought her breakfast. She said, “I don’t need your pity.”
I said, “Then help me catch up on my studies.”
She agreed.
Some time later, her father broke his leg at a construction site, and her stepmother wanted her to marry someone in exchange for a bride price.
She left and deleted every way to contact her, leaving only a note slipped beneath my door: I’m sorry.
But she didn’t know that the last page of the workbook I’d secretly slipped into her bag
was filled with the confession I’d never found the courage to say.
When an iceberg meets the warm sun, even a shattered mirror can be made whole again.
This time, I’ll be the one to chase you.
