The first time Kim Jisoo saw Jennie Kim, it was raining in that soft, cinematic kind of way that only seemed to happen on the first day of college—the kind of rain that made everything look like a coming-of-age movie, where strangers lock eyes under shared shelter and destinies begin without either of them knowing it yet.
Jisoo had always liked rain. It made the world quieter, more focused, less chaotic than the swarm of freshmen dragging suitcases across the wet pavement of Haneul University's sprawling campus. She stood under the dormitory awning with her hood half-on, half-off, her round glasses slightly fogged, one hand gripping a box labeled "MONITOR – FRAGILE" and the other trying to balance her phone while reading the room assignment email for the third time as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.
Room 317. Double occupancy.
She had applied for single occupancy.
She inhaled slowly.
"It's fine," she murmured to herself. "You like people. You can handle one person."
"You talking to yourself or to the box?"
The voice came from behind her—smooth, low, almost amused.
Jisoo turned.
And there she was.
Jennie Kim.
Though Jisoo didn't know her name yet, she would remember that first image forever: a girl standing in the rain like she had personally styled the weather, dark hair cascading over one shoulder, oversized beige sweater slipping slightly off her collarbone, black boots splashed with droplets that somehow made them look more expensive, not less. She held a pastel pink suitcase with one hand and an iced latte in the other, as if monsoon season were simply an aesthetic inconvenience.
Jisoo blinked once.
Twice.
"Oh," she said intelligently. "I was negotiating with the monitor."
Jennie stared at her for a second.
Then laughed.
It wasn't a polite laugh. It was full and genuine and a little surprised, like she hadn't expected to be amused.
"Well," Jennie said, stepping closer under the awning, shaking raindrops from her sleeve, "did it agree to cooperate?"
"We're in mediation," Jisoo replied seriously. "It has boundary issues."
Jennie smiled wider.
Jisoo felt something shift inside her chest—like a door opening softly.
"I'm Jennie," she said, extending her hand.
Her nails were painted a muted cherry red.
Jisoo placed her box down carefully before shaking it.
"Jisoo."
"Computer science?" Jennie guessed.
Jisoo froze.
"How—"
"You look like you code."
"I don't know if that's a compliment."
"It is," Jennie said lightly. "You look smart."
The way she said it didn't sound teasing. It sounded observant. Like she had decided something already.
Jisoo cleared her throat. "And you're... business?"
Jennie made a face. "Fashion design."
"Oh."
"Oh?" Jennie tilted her head.
