It was just a normal day at lunch. Eun-Woo had bought food for Ji-Woo, but she was nowhere to be found.
He fidgeted slightly, glancing around the bustling courtyard.
"Where is she? I thought I'd ask her to come out for lunch," he murmured softly, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the crowd. His eyes lingered on the empty tables, worry flickering across his face.
He hesitated, then whispered to himself.
"Maybe I should text her..." But after a moment's pause, he shook his head with a small sigh. "No, she doesn't respond quickly. She's too slow."
His shoulders drooped slightly as he made up his mind and started to walk purposefully through the crowd, searching.
Meanwhile, Ji-Woo was walking briskly toward the cafeteria, her gaze fixed ahead—distant, yet determined.
Suddenly, she came face to face with Mi-Sook.
The other girl's eyes gleamed with a sinister amusement as she leapt into Ji-Woo's path, blocking her way.
Behind her, Soo-Hee watched with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
Mi-Sook's lips curled into a cruel smirk as she leaned in slightly, her voice dripping with mockery.
"Ya! Kim Ji-Woo," she drawled, her tone sharp. "How does it feel to lose your memory?"
Ji-Woo's eyes flashed with cold steel. She crossed her arms slowly, her stance firm, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she looked Mi-Sook up and down. "You know what?" she said softly, but her voice carried weight.
"I've been noticing you these days." Her eyes narrowed further, a flicker of warning behind them. "You've been trying to bother me."
Mi-Sook stepped closer, her smirk widening, almost daring her. Her posture was confident, but her fingers twitched at her sides.
"Yeah? Do you know how much insult I had to endure just because of that night?" Her voice was low but venomous. "People at the party thought I was the reason you went missing," she spat, teeth clenched in anger.
"And then," she added roughly, "you met with an accident." Her eyes glinted with malicious satisfaction as she leaned in just a little more.
Ji-Woo scoffed, her voice low but laced with disdain.
"Accident? Did that look like an accident to you?" Her eyes sparkled with a dangerous intensity, her voice turning menacing. "I am back now—I am not the old Ji-Woo you used to know I've change. And Lee Mi-Sook, I will make your life miserable."
She pointed her finger sharply at Mi-Sook, her hand trembling slightly with suppressed rage. Her lips curled into a faint, cold smile.
"Just watch your back," she threatened softly but firmly.
At that moment, Eun-Woo appeared, rushing toward her with concern etched on his face. "Ji-Woo!" he called, voice anxious.
She turned her head slightly, her expression softening for a moment before her gaze flicked back to Mi-Sook. With a subtle, innocent smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, she said gently.
"Excuse me," then gracefully stepped past Mi-Sook. Her movements were smooth, almost like a delicate dance, confident and composed as she left the scene.
Soo-Hee blinked, her eyes wide with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. "Mi-Sook," she asked hesitantly, voice trembling slightly, "are you really going to let her get away with this?"
Mi-Sook clenched her fists, her knuckles whitening as her eyes burned with stubborn resolve.
Her voice was cold and determined.
"Of course not," she muttered bitterly. "She just threatened me… and I won't forget that. No one comes back from the dead and walks away unscathed."
She paused, then added with a sinister smile, "And they said two people were involved in that accident. If Ji-Woo was one, then who was the other?"
Soo-Hee blinked, confusion clouding her face. "What do you mean?"
Mi-Sook's lips curled into a cold, calculating smirk. "I'm going to expose that outcast. Everyone will see what she's really been hiding all this time."
"Ya! Eun-Woo, what does she mean— you're an 'Actor'?" Ji-Woo asked, her voice tinged with curiosity as she and Eun-Woo sat on the rooftop of the school, gazing lazily at the drifting clouds above.
The soft breeze rustled their hair, and the warm sunlight cast gentle shadows on their faces.
Eun-Woo glanced at her, a small smirk playing on his lips.
"Actor, yes. I am an actor—only not a very popular one," he explained, shrugging casually. His eyes flicked toward her, a hint of pride and amusement in his expression.
Eun-Woo tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at the sky.
"When you didn't lose your memory, you always supported me—with food and notes," he added softly, a small smile curling his lips.
His tone was nostalgic, a rare softness in his voice.
Ji-Woo chuckled, nudging him lightly with her elbow. "You just love food so much, Eun-Woo" he teased, eyes twinkling.
Eun-Woo rolled his eyes and playfully shoved her back.
"You did too," he shot back pouting slightly, a teasing smirk forming on his face. "What made you think we bonded so much?"
They shared a quiet laugh, the moment comfortable and warm despite the distant clouds.
Suddenly, Eun-Woo's phone buzzed loudly, breaking the peaceful silence.
He quickly picked it up, listening intently. His expression changed as he listened to the caller.
After a moment, he stood up abruptly.
"I have to go now, Ji-Woo," he said hurriedly, his tone a little apologetic. "My mom's—she's my manager—and she told me to come back quickly."
He patted her gently on the head like a loyal puppy, his smile friendly but hurried.
"Eat it all, okay? See you around, foodie," he added with a wink before turning and walking away, his footsteps quickly disappearing down the rooftop stairs.
Ji-Woo watched him go, her gaze lingering on his retreating figure.
Then she leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, the breeze playing with her hair and bangs.
A faint smile touched her lips.
Slowly, she stood up, walking to the edge of the rooftop. She looked down at the schoolyard below, where tiny figures moved like ants.
Her lips curled into a quiet smile as she muttered to herself, "Oooh, look how small people look from up here."
She stood there in contemplative silence, the wind softly tousling her hair, lost in her thoughts.