Ji-hoon told himself it didn't matter.
He repeated it the moment he woke up.
Again when he left the house.
Again when he reached school.
It didn't matter who Seo-yoon walked with.
It didn't matter who sat beside her.
It didn't matter who made her laugh.
None of it had anything to do with him.
That's what he told himself.
And for a while, it worked.
He entered the classroom without looking toward the window.
He took his seat at the back without hesitation.
He opened his notebook and focused on the page in front of him.
Everything was simple.
Controlled.
Uncomplicated.
Until it wasn't.
"Ji-hoon."
He looked up.
Min-chae stood beside his desk, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"What?" he asked.
She glanced toward the front of the room, then back at him.
"You're really going to act like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you don't see anything."
Ji-hoon followed her gaze, just for a second.
Seo-yoon was sitting by the window.
Hyun-woo beside her.
Talking.
Close enough to share a notebook.
Close enough to look like something more.
Ji-hoon looked away first.
"I don't," he said.
Min-chae didn't believe him.
"Then you're blind," she replied.
"I'm not interested."
"Right," she said flatly. "That's why you keep looking."
Ji-hoon didn't respond.
Min-chae studied him for a moment, then sighed.
"You know you're making this worse, right?"
"I'm not making anything."
"You are," she said. "By doing nothing."
Ji-hoon closed his notebook. "Then stop talking about it."
Min-chae hesitated, like she wanted to say more.
Then she shook her head. "Fine."
She walked away.
Ji-hoon leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze drifting to the side despite himself.
Just for a second.
Seo-yoon was laughing again.
Not loudly.
Not dramatically.
But enough.
Enough for him to notice.
Enough for it to stay.
He looked away again.
It shouldn't matter.
It didn't matter.
So why did it feel like it did?
Classes passed slowly.
Ji-hoon didn't look forward again.
Not directly.
He focused on his work.
On the board.
On anything that wasn't her.
It was easier that way.
Or at least, it should have been.
At lunch, he didn't go to the cafeteria immediately.
He stayed behind.
Just for a few minutes.
Long enough for the crowd to thin.
Long enough to avoid seeing something he didn't want to see.
When he finally went, he chose a table near the back.
Alone.
Min-chae joined him a few minutes later, placing her tray down with a quiet sigh.
"You're avoiding her," she said.
"I'm eating."
"You're avoiding her while eating."
Ji-hoon didn't respond.
Min-chae looked at him carefully. "Why?"
He shrugged. "There's nothing to avoid."
"Then why aren't you sitting with us?"
Ji-hoon glanced at her. "You're sitting with me."
"That's not the point."
"It is now."
Min-chae leaned back slightly, watching him.
"You're jealous."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
Min-chae tilted her head. "Then what are you?"
Ji-hoon didn't answer.
Because he didn't know.
Or maybe he did
And didn't want to say it.
Across the room, Seo-yoon sat with Hyun-woo again.
She wasn't laughing this time.
Just listening.
Quiet.
Ji-hoon noticed anyway.
Of course he did.
Min-chae followed his gaze.
"See?" she said softly.
Ji-hoon looked away. "Stop."
"Why?"
"Because it doesn't matter."
Min-chae was quiet for a moment.
Then, "If it doesn't matter, why does it look like it does?"
Ji-hoon didn't respond.
Because there wasn't an answer that made sense.
After lunch, the day continued like always.
Classes.
Notes.
Time passing in a way that felt both fast and slow at the same time.
Ji-hoon kept his distance.
He didn't approach Seo-yoon.
Didn't try to talk.
Didn't give himself a reason to.
It was easier that way.
Or at least, it felt like it should be.
At the end of the day, he packed his bag without looking up.
He didn't wait.
Didn't check.
Didn't pause.
He stood up and walked out of the classroom before she could.
Before anything could happen.
Before he could change his mind.
The hallway was crowded, voices overlapping, movement constant.
Ji-hoon walked through it without stopping.
Without turning back.
Without looking for her.
He reached the school gates and kept going.
Step after step.
Faster than usual.
Like he was trying to outrun something.
Or avoid it.
Or both.
He didn't stop at the corner.
Didn't slow down.
Didn't look back.
Because if he did
He knew he would see her.
And if he saw her
It would matter.
No matter how many times he told himself it didn't.
And that was exactly what he was trying to avoid.