Noises always hit Ohyul like physical blows in the Seosung High cafeteria.
Clanging metal trays, screeching plastic chairs, and high-pitched laughter bounced off the concrete walls, threatening to overwhelm his senses.
Most students ignored the daily chaos, but Ohyul felt every single vibration deep in his teeth.
Holding his plastic tray with both hands, he navigated the narrow aisles like a soldier stepping through a minefield.
Quiet survival was his only goal.
Polite smiles and quick, submissive nods kept him safe from the social predators of the school.
If he remained invisible, nobody would notice him, and more importantly, nobody would leave him.
Ever since his parents packed their bags and moved to another province, leaving him with nothing but a monthly allowance and a drafty studio apartment, he had lived by a single rule: never give anyone a reason to walk away.
Being useful and quiet was the only way to ensure he wouldn't be abandoned again.
Ahead, a group of boisterous varsity soccer players blocked the path to the trash bins.
One of them, a towering defender named Jungtae, was swinging his arms wildly while retelling a play.
Instead of pushing through or asking them to move, Ohyul paused, waiting for an opening.
Stepping backward was always better than risking a spilled drink and a sudden confrontation.
He adjusted his grip on the plastic tray, his knuckles turning white as he waited patiently by the edge of the row.
A warm, yellow aura usually hovered around Jungtae—a simple, predictable weather pattern of cocky confidence.
Ohyul could read those emotional climates instantly.
Most people were simple drizzles of boredom or mild drafts of anxiety.
He had learned to navigate these shifts over the years, using his unique empathy to soothe tensions before they erupted.
If a teacher was a gathering thunderstorm of irritation, he kept his head down.
If a classmate was a quiet puddle of sadness, he slipped a piece of candy onto their desk and walked away before they could thank him.
He kept his eyes lowered to avoid catching anyone's direct gaze, which always triggered the sensory overload.
Looking someone in the eye meant diving headfirst into their climate, feeling their emotions as if they were his own.
Usually, it was manageable.
Sometimes, it was exhausting.
But nothing could have prepared him for what was walking through the double doors of the cafeteria.
Suddenly, the volume in the crowded room shifted.
Laughter died down, replaced by a collective murmur of excitement.
Even the rowdy soccer players stopped their horseplay, turning toward the entrance with eager smiles.
Min Chaewon had just walked in.
Bright, blinding, and perpetually smiling, she was the school's undisputed sun.
Star-Rise Entertainment had already signed her as an idol-trainee, and rumors of her upcoming debut were the main topic of conversation in every hallway.
Students parted for her like royalty.
She waved at a group of freshmen, her laughter ringing out like a silver bell, clear and utterly effortless.
To everyone else, she was the epitome of success and happiness.
Ohyul tried to look away, knowing the danger of looking too closely at someone so intensely public.
People like Chaewon lived under a spotlight, and their emotions were bound to be volatile.
Curiosity, however, got the better of him.
Just one quick glance, he promised himself.
He looked up right as she turned her head.
Their eyes locked across the crowded room.
Instantly, the warmth of the cafeteria evaporated.
Freezing, suffocating cold slammed into Ohyul's chest like an iron fist.
Air fled his lungs in a sudden, violent gasp.
He wasn't standing in a school cafeteria anymore.
Inside his mind, he was sinking into a pitch-black ocean of liquid ice.
Glacial water filled his throat, burning with a terrible, numbing pain.
This wasn't just sadness or stress.
Raging, freezing blizzards of absolute despair whipped through his senses, tearing at his sanity.
A suffocating weight pressed down on his shoulders, dragging him deeper into the dark, silent depths.
She was drowning.
Min Chaewon, the girl who smiled like summer, was dying of cold on the inside.
Her internal weather wasn't a mild winter; it was a devastating polar vortex, a pitch-black storm of hopelessness so profound that it took his breath away.
His knees buckled under the phantom pressure.
His fingers lost all strength, turning numb and useless.
With a deafening crash, his metal tray slipped from his hands.
Bowls of hot soup shattered against the linoleum, splashing warm broth and rice across his legs.
Clattering silverware echoed loudly in the sudden, stunned silence of the room.
Everyone turned to stare.
Dozens of eyes locked onto him, but Ohyul could barely see them.
He was on his hands and knees, clutching his chest as he struggled to breathe.
Cold sweat poured down his neck, soaking his uniform collar.
His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, frantic and irregular.
Shame washed over him, hot and sharp, but it was nothing compared to the residual chill in his bones.
He had spent years building a polite, invisible life.
Now, his carefully constructed wall was in ruins.
Whispers broke out among the tables, sharp and judgmental.
Ohyul squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the noise and the lingering cold.
He needed to get up, to run, to hide.
But his limbs felt like lead, heavy and unresponsive.
Footsteps approached, clicking softly against the wet floor.
A shadow fell over his trembling hands.
Looking up through his blurred vision, he saw a pair of clean white sneakers.
Chaewon was kneeling right in front of him.
Her perfect, idol-ready smile was back on her face, but her eyes were entirely empty.
They looked like two hollow pools of frozen ash.
She reached down, her delicate hand moving toward a scattered spoon.
Ohyul tried to pull his hand back, wanting to scream a warning, wanting to escape the terrifying aura radiating off her.
Before he could move, her fingers brushed against his bare skin.
An agonizing, high-pitched ringing exploded inside his skull.
Sound faded entirely, replaced by a deafening hum that made his teeth ache.
His vision went completely black.
Suddenly, he was standing on a concrete ledge.
Wind whipped through his hair, freezing and violent.
Below him, the city lights of Seoul stretched out like a cold, distant galaxy.
He was looking down at the drop, feeling the terrifying, magnetic pull of the void.
It was her memory, her reality, her secret rooftop.