︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You fell, I caught you
I'll never let you go again like I did
Oh, I used to say
I would never fall in love again until I found her
I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"
I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her
I found you

-Until I found you - Stephen Sanchez-

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

13 years ago.

7th grade.

"Okay everyone, we have a new student today. She's joined a little late, so if she seems to need help, please do. And remember, be kind."
The homeroom teacher said.

"Would you like to introduce yourself?"
She said, kneeling down to the girls level.

She hesitantly nodded.

"Go ahead, don't be scared. We're all friends here."

"Hi, I'm Hana."
Her voice was soft, barely audible, like a whisper carried on a breeze, unsure of whether it had been heard. He remembered the way she had looked down, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeves as if she wanted to disappear into the floor.

The teacher, trying to encourage her, had pressed,
"Is that all? Can you tell us a little more about yourself?"

But Hana just shook her head, her movements small, almost invisible.

"Alright," the teacher said, not wanting to press her further.
"You can sit next to Minho. Minho, raise your hand."

Minho raised his hand, though his attention remained fixed on Hana as she slowly made her way toward the empty desk next to him. The class seemed to watch her closely, but the awkwardness in the air was palpable. She sat down quickly, keeping her gaze downward, almost as if trying to shrink into the chair, but her hands gripping the edge of her desk to prevent it.

Her movements were cautious, as if she were afraid of disturbing the peace that had been established around her. 

The teacher's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
"Alright, class, please open your books to the last topic we did. Minho, could you help Hana catch up with the lesson?"

Minho barely had time to react before he found himself nodding, his mind still swirling.

"Uh..." Minho glanced at Hana. She was already flipping open her notebook, her pen poised in her hand like it was a weapon. Her gaze flicked to him, just for a second, before quickly returning to the page in front of her.

"I wasn't in class the whole month, I'm here today only for my attendance. I'm not sure I'm any help." Minho said, and she nodded silently, her eyes not meeting his.

"I'll catch up. Just pretend you've helped me."
Her face remained impassive, almost unreadable.

When the bell rang for the next class, Hana packed up her things quickly, her movements hurried and precise. Minho was just about to say something when she stood up, grabbing her bag and heading toward the door without a word.

"Hey, wait!"
Minho called out before he could stop himself. Hana paused, glancing back at him, her eyes wide again, the same quiet uncertainty hanging around her.

"Uh... do you need help with anything else?"
Minho asked, unsure of what else to say. His voice sounded a little too loud in the suddenly silent classroom.
"I can help you find your next class."

Hana blinked, and for a moment, it seemed like she was about to say something, but then she just shook her head.
"I'm okay," she said softly.
Her voice was still a whisper, but there was something different in it this time. It was a little more convincing.

This went on for weeks, months.

Hana was still a reserved, quiet person. She never tried to socialize. How much ever Minho tried.

Minho, although young and naive, fell in love with the simplicity and the quirks of her. But he, knew in Hana's heart and mind, he was miles away in that way.

Before they knew, 2 years went by.

9th grade.

Minho still couldn't find a way to break through to Hana. She was still as quiet as ever, always sitting alone, rarely speaking unless directly spoken to. He tried. Oh, how he tried—small talk here and there, casual questions, offering to help when he could—but it always felt like he was talking to a wall. Not being able to always be there was another problem.

It frustrated him to no end.

"You know," Jisung teased one day as they sat together at lunch,
"you've been crushing on her for two years now. When are you going to confess?"

"He's right Minho."
Chan replied.

Minho groaned and sank into his seat, resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands.
"I know, I know, but it's not that simple. She's... not the type to communicate."

"As if you are. You're only talking to her because you like her, you wouldn't even try to strike a conversation with a complete stranger. You're lucky I've know you since middle school."

"You're lucky I had to repeat a few classes because I was always away, we would've never met otherwise."
Minho groaned and buried his face in his hands.
"And- Jisung. I've barely heard her speak in the past two years."

"Well, maybe it's time to do something about it." Hyunjin replied, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, you can't just keep staring at her from afar forever."
Chan agreed.

"Don't you think I know that?" Minho muttered.
"But she's not the type to open up. I can't just force it."

"You're only saying that because you're scared," Felix said from across the table, raising an eyebrow. "If you don't act soon, you'll regret it."

"I'll wait," Minho said, sighing. "The right time will come. I'm not going to rush it."

After the summer break of 9th grade.

The first day back was always full of excitement, but this time Minho barely noticed the chatter and the bustle around him. His mind was focused on one thing only: Finding Hana.

Things were supposed to change, he was supposed to get things off his chest.

As the classroom filled with familiar faces, there was one glaring absence.

Hana was nowhere to be seen.

"Welcome back, everyone! Did you all have a nice vacation?"
their teacher asked brightly, trying to bring some life to the first day of the new semester.

Minho's heart sank. He tried to focus on the teacher, who was enthusiastically welcoming everyone back, but his thoughts kept drifting to the one person who had occupied his mind for so long. What happened? Where was she?

The bell rang, but the question lingered in his mind: Had he waited too long?

"JISUNG! CHAN!"
Minho's voice echoed down the corridor as he sprinted toward his friends, the urgency in his steps betraying his otherwise calm demeanor.

"Hey, I'm happy to see you too," Chan teased, his grin wide as he raised an eyebrow at Minho's frenzied pace. "What's the rush?"

Minho didn't slow down, not even for the playful jab. He was already out of breath, his heart racing, but his mind only had one thought.

"Hana," Minho said, almost breathless. "Have you seen her?"

"If anyone was to see her, it would be you. But to answer your question, no we haven't."

Minho's heart sank, but he pushed on, his voice a little quieter.
"Was she here before the break? I—I wasn't here. I don't know if... if she was around before the summer?"

"When I think about it I never really saw her."
Jisung said.

"We could be mistaken Minho, I mean we never went to your class, since we already knew you weren't here."
Chan tried to reassure.

"But there's a very good chance she wasn't here the whole month before vacation."
Minho mumbled.

"If you're serious about finding her, maybe you should talk to the school counselor,"
Jisung suggested, glancing at Chan with a knowing look.
 "Hyunjin's mom works there. She might have more information."

Minho nodded, his expression tightening with resolve. "Thanks," he said, glancing at both of them before adding, "I'll check with Ms. Hwang."

With one last look down the corridor, he turned and hurried toward the counselor's office, his steps heavy with concern.

He knocked once, lightly, then stepped inside. The counselor, a kind-faced woman, also his best friend's mother Mrs. Hwang, looked up from her desk as he entered.

"Minho," she greeted, her voice warm but with a note of curiosity. "What brings you here today?"

Minho hesitated for a moment, then walked forward, his throat tightening as he spoke.
"I just wanted to know about one of my friends. She hasn't been to school for a long time."

Mrs. Hwang's eyebrows furrowed slightly as she looked at him.
"Of course, I can help you with that. What's her name, and which class is she in?"

Minho took a breath, trying to steady his nerves.
"Her name's Hana. She's in Class 3, 9th grade."

Mrs. Hwang nodded thoughtfully, already typing the details into her computer. The soft clack of the keys filled the air as she worked, her face focused. After a moment, she paused, her expression shifting subtly.

"This will do," she murmured, clicking a few more times. "Let me check her records."

Mrs. Hwang's eyes scanned the screen, her fingers slowing, as though processing something she found.

"It says here she's transferred schools. Right around the last month of school."

Minho's heart dropped. Transferred?

"What do you mean, transferred?"
His voice was barely more than a whisper, thick with confusion.
"She left? To where?"

Mrs. Hwang glanced up at him, her brow furrowed in concern.
"I cannot give you the details, Minho. Just that she officially withdrew and transferred out. It was all finalized months ago."

Minho stood there for a moment, trying to absorb the words. Transferred? That didn't make sense. Hana hadn't said anything. She hadn't even mentioned she was planning to leave.

But then again did she ever mention anything at all?

For a brief second, his world felt out of focus, the edges of reality blurring. The feeling was familiar—a sense of helplessness, like he was reaching for something that was already gone away. 

But Minho, being Minho, didn't let it show. He pretended like it didn't affect him. He went through the motions. 

Jisung, Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin and Felix were worried at first, but when Minho started acting like nothing had changed—when he threw himself back into his matches, his games, and his usual routines—they believed him.

It was the perfect mask.

But of course, as I said before, Minho was young and naive.

He cried for days after that. In private, when no one was looking. He cried in the middle of the night, frustrated by how easily he had fallen for someone who probably never even knew how he felt. He cried because it felt like he had wasted all that time, only to find out it was all one-sided. And worst of all—she'd left without a single word. Without a single explanation.

But time did what it always does. It healed, it dulled the pain, and it gave Minho something that hurt just a little less.

He grew up. He learned to forget about that girl, to let her fade into the background of his memories. Now, the details of it all felt like they belonged to someone else—someone he no longer recognized. 

He could remember the sting of unrequited love, but the girl, the way he looked at her, the way she had felt so close but so unreachable... that all faded into the blur of years gone by.

And yet, maybe something had remained. A scar, perhaps, something that dulled his confidence, that made him question whether it was worth it to give his heart away again. 

Maybe it was inevitable—falling in love would always bring him pain. That thought alone should've been enough to make him shy away, to protect himself. 

 But the truth was, he still craved it. The connection. The feeling of being seen, of giving a piece of himself to someone else, no matter the cost. 

 The question lingered, hanging heavy in his mind: Would he ever fall in love with anyone again? Or was it just her? Was it always meant to be her?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Present time:

"Everyone, come down to eat!"
Chan yelled across the house.

A sluggish Han walked over,
"Good morning to you too."
he mumbled.

"I bet that Red Bull really did give you wiiings."
He teased.
"Also, it's good afternoon."

Han chuckled, rubbing his eyes.
"Never again... Hana was right. I regret it already."
Despite his words, there was a playful smile on his face.

Chan set a plate of food in front of him, his tone softer now.
"Take it easy after brunch, okay? You need some rest. But before you go back to bed, I need to talk to you about something."

"About what?"
Jisung was intrigued.

"Oh my god Jisung I'll tell you later."

Hana walked in, looking fresh and relaxed, her face lighting up as the savory aroma hit her. "Wow, the food smells amazing. Who cooked?" she asked, genuinely impressed.

"I did," Chan replied with a proud smile, plating her food with care.
"I hope you like it!"

"Hey I helped!"
Seungmin yelled from the sink.

Slowly, everyone gathered in the kitchen, a scene of organized chaos. People shuffled around, each finding their own spot at the counter or the table, exchanging sleepy greetings and quiet murmurs. The air was filled with a comfortable hum—light chatter and the clink of silverware—as they all settled in for the morning.

Hana and Minho, who had been at odds earlier, seemed to have slipped back into their usual, almost forgetting how their day started.

"Well, how was it?"
Minho nudged her.

Hana raised an eyebrow, glancing at Minho as she finished her bite.
"Be a little more clear, will you?"

"You know, the whole deal. Movie night, hanging out with the group—basically your 'day out making new friends.'"

Hana took a moment to think, then shrugged.
"It was fine. A little awkward at first, but... nothing I couldn't handle." She shot him a quick look. "Not that I was exactly looking to make new friends, though."

He raised his hands in mock surrender.
"But you did enjoy yourself, didn't you?"

Hana leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she thought about it.
"It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I'll give you that."

"Thank me later."
He said sassily.
"Oh yeah, Mom called in the morning, said she made food for you."

"Aww, that's sweet of her. You taking me there?" she asked, her voice softening.

"Of course, if you want to." He shrugged, a playful glint in his eyes.

Hana nodded, her tone warm. "Yeah, I do."

He shook his head, amused.
"I don't know what it is, but you've completely won her over."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

They lingered at the table until everyone had finished eating, the soft clink of silverware and quiet chatter filling the air. Hana, for the first time in a long while, found herself enjoying breakfast—not out of obligation, but because it felt natural. There was no tension, no discomfort, just ease.

She sat back, a sense of contentment settling over her as she glanced around. Chan and Seungmin were clearing dishes, Minho , Felix and Jeongin were talking, and Jisung, Changbin and Hyunjin—of course—were cracking jokes about... well let's just say 'random things'. 

Everything felt familiar, comfortable, like home, even if she hadn't fully realized it until now. For once, she didn't feel the need to escape or pretend. She was simply here, with people who made her feel like she belonged.

And for once, that was enough.

"I'm going to go pack my things now,"
Hana whispered.
"I'm going to leave soon, I have to go to library today."

"Why? Stay a little longer? Please?"
Minho begged.

"I'll drop by in the evening? We can leave together to your house then."

Minho nodded. "Speaking of leaving, did you drive here?"

"Yeah, I did. Why?"

"I still need to bring my car back; it's parked by the restaurant."

"How about I finish up my work and give you a call when I'm ready?" Hana suggested.

"Sounds good."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin all left with Hana, since they hadn't driven themselves.
That left only Minho, Changbin, Jisung, and Chan behind.

"Channie hyung, what were you going to say?"
Jisung asked, his impatience barely masked.

"Can you bring Changbin over here?" Chan replied.

"I'm here," Changbin called out, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
"Just finishing up with the plates."

Once everyone was settled, Chan leaned forward slightly, his expression thoughtful.

"Doesn't Hana seem... familiar to you?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶