Annyeongz One-shots

19. The Distance Between Us

The grand clock above Rosewood Academy’s main building struck 3:50 PM, its echo trailing through the hallways like a ceremonial drum. Students hurried to their afternoon clubs, their footsteps crisp against the polished floors.

Some whispered. Some giggled. Most scattered aside like petals in a breeze.

Because Ahn Yujin was walking through.

His reputation preceded him. Tall, sharp-jawed, clean-cut uniform, and a leather-bound notebook always tucked under his arm, Yujin wasn’t just a student—he was the student. Top of the school. Captain of the national debate team. Winner of five inter-high school competitions. A mind sharper than most teachers. And above all, a gentleman.

He didn’t talk much in hallways, but when he did—people listened.

“Debate hall. Five minutes,” said Jaemin, his right-hand man in their debate circle, as he tossed Yujin a bottle of water.

“I’ll be there,” Yujin replied simply, adjusting his blazer, mind already constructing arguments for today’s topic.

“Mental Health and Anxiety: As Serious as Physical Illness.”

He took a step forward—

Crash.

A small, surprised yelp escaped someone’s mouth as their shoulder collided into his.

Papers flew. A notebook slid across the glossy floor.

Yujin instantly crouched, gathering the scattered items. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay?”

The girl in front of him blinked up, clearly startled. She was new—he could tell. Her uniform was freshly pressed, but the way she held herself, arms clutched to her books, eyes wide behind gentle lashes, said she wasn’t used to the chaos of Rosewood yet.

“I-I’m okay,” she whispered, quickly bowing. “Sorry, I didn’t see you—”

“It’s my fault,” Yujin said calmly, handing her the notebook. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

She took it silently, eyes barely meeting his before she dipped her head again and quickly scurried off, disappearing around the corner like a ghost.

He stood there a moment longer, eyes lingering on where she vanished.

“Interesting…” he murmured.

Her name was Jang Wonyoung.
Transfer student. Mid-year. Sat at the back of class, always took notes, rarely spoke unless called on.

She wasn’t invisible—but she was certainly quiet.

And yet, Yujin noticed her again.

At the school café. In the library, buried in psychology books. Sitting under a tree at lunch, sketching in a worn notebook.

He noticed the way she turned the other direction whenever she saw him.

What she didn’t know was that Yujin always saw her.

“Bro, she ran away again?” Jaemin snorted, popping open a can of soda in the debate room. “I swear, that girl moves like a ninja every time you’re within 20 feet.”

“I don’t think she dislikes me,” Yujin replied, almost amused. “I think she’s just… scared.”

“You? Scary?” Jisoo, the only girl in their inner debate circle, laughed. “You literally rejected three love confessions this week with the politeness of a diplomat. ‘I’m honored, but I hope you find someone who truly deserves your heart.’ Ugh. Shakespeare who?”