The most obscure love is the cup of warm milk you hold every morning, the few glances at her in the back seat while pretending to look at the door casually, the so-called wearing of clothes for the two of you. The secret joy of "dressing up as a couple in school uniform" is the satisfaction of seeing the two people's names together even if they are remembered as late in the morning. It is the feeling of being flustered but happily tormented by occasionally looking at each other. It is the awkward mentality of a child who pretends not to care but is nervous to death. It is the self-blame for being timid and cowardly. It is the sadness that she does not understand and understand. It is the pain that she clearly likes but cannot express.