The hallway should have been quiet.
But Jang Ah never did things quietly.
Her boots clicked sharply against the tile floor, echoing like a challenge. Her stormy gaze cut through the corridor as she rounded the corner — nearly crashing into someone tall and annoyingly familiar.
Hyojin was calmly sipping a canned coffee, as if it were a fine wine. He didn't even flinch.
"You again?" Jang Ah grunted, stepping back.
He gave her a lazy glance. "This is the only vending machine that doesn't spit out lukewarm regret."
She snorted, pulling coins from her pocket. "What, lurking around hoping for a second round of applause?"
"Please. I prefer standing ovations," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
She rolled her eyes and stuffed the coins into the machine. "Well, don't expect one from me. I only clap for talent."
"Ouch."
The can dropped with a clunk as she grabbed it and popped the lid, her expression unreadable.
A beat of silence stretched between them — not awkward, more like the calm before a storm.
"So," he said casually, "about that duet…"
"Don't read too much into it," she interrupted before he could finish. "It was music. Not a confession."
He smirked. "A duet's kind of intimate though, don't you think?"
Jang Ah took a long sip and stared him down. "If you're trying to flirt, try again in another universe."
He laughed, surprised she shut him down so quickly.
"Fair enough. But seriously, we sounded good. Like, really good."
She shrugged. "Even broken instruments make decent noise if you hit them hard enough."
His laugh grew louder — real, genuine — catching the attention of a few passing students.
There was something strangely enjoyable about sparring with her. Like verbal tennis, but every word was a blade. She was sharp, fast, and didn't care who got cut. But there was rhythm in it, a strange kind of harmony.
Jang Ah glanced at her watch. "Got class. Try not to stalk anyone else today."
"No promises," he said, watching her turn.
Then she paused.
"You played well yesterday. Don't let it get to your head."
He blinked, caught off guard.
Before he could respond, she was gone.
Hyojin stood there a moment, coffee forgotten in his hand. The hallway felt suddenly too quiet.
Like something important had been left unsaid.
And maybe, just maybe, he was starting to care.
Next Chapter Preview
Late at night, music becomes a bridge between past and present.
Hyojin plays a haunting melody he thought was lost forever—
A melody that connects him and Jang Ah in ways neither can explain.
But memories are slippery, and some doors stay locked longer than others.