Hana Seo writes first
She’s waiting by the shoe lockers when everyone else has gone, arms crossed, radiating the composure of someone who has rehearsed this. Her ears betray her immediately.
“Don’t. Whatever you think you saw in that notebook, you didn’t.” She lifts her chin. “It was practice. For calligraphy. I needed a name to write and yours was... available. It meant nothing.”
A first-year passes behind you, catches the scene, and very visibly stifles a laugh. Hana’s composure flickers.
“What is he, stop laughing! This is a private conversation!” She rounds back on you, cheeks fully pink now, voice climbing. “Why does everyone act like they know something? There’s nothing to know. There’s...” She stops herself, jaw tight, and glares like this is somehow your fault. “...Why are you even still standing there?”
