Hey, deskmate ; minsung 𖦹

15

Minho.

The walk home felt heavier than it should have. Each step seemed to drag with the weight of everything swirling in my head—Jisung, his strange behavior, the nagging thought that something was wrong. I tried to brush it off, shake it away like I always did when something bothered me, but this time, it wasn't working.

Why couldn't I stop thinking about him? I shouldn't care. I didnt care. Jisung and I weren't friends. Hell, we were barely on speaking terms most of the time, only communicating through half-baked insults and glares across the classroom. I liked it that way. It kept things simple. No attachments, no expectations, no complications. So why was this different?

I shoved my hands into my pockets, scowling at the pavement as I walked. A few people passed by, but I barely registered them, too lost in my thoughts.

My mind kept circling back to that damn park. That damn swing. And that damn look on Jisung's face.

The way he seemed distant, like his mind was somewhere else entirely, like he wasn't the same guy I'd spent years butting heads with. He'd always been so put-together, so sure of himself, never wavering, never slipping. And today? Today he looked like he was hanging by a thread. It pissed me off that I'd noticed, that I couldn't just ignore it and move on.

He's not your problem, Minho.

But there was something about it that stuck with me. The fact that someone like him—someone who never showed weakness—was suddenly absent. And not just from school, but from whatever stupid rivalry we had going. I couldn't even rile him up today. Not a single comeback, not a hint of that usual competitive fire.

What could mess someone like him up that badly?

I sighed, kicking another stray rock off the sidewalk. Maybe it was his grandma. If something had happened to her, that would explain why he'd been off. She was important to him—that much I knew, even if I didn't care to admit that I'd noticed. Jisung didn't talk about his personal life much, but when he did, his tone would change slightly, like he was letting something real slip through.

I couldn't help but wonder if she was okay. I hated that I was even thinking about it, but there it was, lodged in the back of my mind. I likesseeing people vulnerable, but Jisung?

It felt wrong.

When I finally reached my house, I stood at the door for a second, staring at the handle. The quiet of the evening pressed down on me, and for a brief moment, I considered going back to the park, maybe even tracking down Jisung. Not to talk, but just to see if he was alright.

But no. That wasn't my place. I didn't need to get involved in whatever mess he was dealing with. Jisung was Jisung. He'd figure it out. He didn't need me, and I sure as hell didn't need him.

Pushing the door open, I walked inside, the familiar hum of the house greeting me as I tossed my bag down. I headed straight for my room, shutting the door behind me before collapsing onto the bed. The ceiling stared back at me, blank and unmoving, offering no answers to the mess in my head.

Why the hell am I thinking about him?

I ran a hand through my hair, annoyed with myself for even letting this go on for so long. Jisung wasn't someone I should be wasting my time on. He was the perfect student, the golden boy who had it all figured out. He wasn't supposed to have cracks. He wasn't supposed to need help from anyone, least of all me.

And yet... something told me that maybe, for once, he wasn't as put-together as he seemed.

I groaned, flipping over onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow. This was stupid. Tomorrow I'd go back to school, and everything would be normal again. Jisung would be back to his usual self, back to throwing his stupid, snarky comments my way, back to pretending like nothing had happened.

And I'd go back to hating him. Just like always.

That's how it was supposed to be.

But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't sure if things would ever go back to normal. And the thought of that bothered me more than I cared to admit.

With a frustrated sigh, I closed my eyes, willing myself to stop thinking about him, to stop caring about what was going on in his life. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and when it did, I'd deal with Jisung the way I always had—by keeping him at a distance.

Because if I let him get any closer, if I let myself care even a little, I wasn't sure what that would mean.

And that scared me more than anything else.

Just stop caring about him, it's none of my business.