"Strawberry Cake" The cherry blossoms drifted gently through the air like soft pink snow, settling along the quiet riverside of Seoul University. Spring had fully arrived, filling the campus with warmth, laughter, and couples walking hand in hand. But not everyone was part of that picture. Y/N sat alone beneath a cherry blossom tree, knees pulled close, watching the petals fall into the water. It was her birthday—but nothing about today felt special. No messages. No celebration. Just silence, like most days. She didn’t mind it… or at least, she told herself she didn’t. A few meters away, footsteps slowed. Hyeongjun had been walking back from practice, hands tucked into his jacket, mind still buzzing with music. As a member of the school band “Xdinary Heroes,” he was someone everyone knew—cheerful on stage, admired by many. But off stage, he was quiet… observant. And right now, something had caught his attention. He recognized her. Y/N. The girl who always sat in the back of lectures. The one who never spoke unless called on. The one who seemed to exist just outside everyone else’s world. And today… she looked even more alone. Hyeongjun hesitated. He understood that feeling too well—the strange comfort and sadness of being alone in a crowd. Maybe that’s why his feet moved before his thoughts could stop him. He walked over slowly and sat down beside her, leaving a small but respectful space between them. “…Hi.” His voice was soft, almost blending into the breeze. Y/N flinched slightly, surprised. She turned her head, eyes widening when she recognized him. Him. Of all people. “…Hi,” she replied quietly, her voice just as small.

"Until the ice melt" Y/N was an ordinary figure skater. Every morning before school and every evening after, she could be found gliding across the ice with her fluffy white puppy, Tomo, sitting by the rink. Tomo loved watching her practice, his tail wagging every time she landed a jump. Skating was Y/N's whole world. A few miles away, Tomoya spent most of his days on the ice too—but in a completely different way. He was a talented ice hockey player known for his speed and powerful shots. His white puppy, Snow, followed him everywhere, often chasing hockey balls across the training center. Though they lived in the same city and spent their lives on ice, they had never met. Until one winter afternoon. Tomoya's hockey team was scheduled to practice at a rink they normally didn't use. When he arrived, the arena was nearly empty except for one figure spinning gracefully beneath the bright lights. A girl. Her skates traced silver lines across the ice as she moved effortlessly through the music. Every jump, every spin, every landing looked perfect. Tomoya stopped walking. For a moment, he forgot about practice. Forgot about hockey. Forgot about everything. He simply stood there, watching.

"Hear me" Gaon was an ordinary guy who helped his parents run a small restaurant. A few years ago, his uncle told him that sign language was a language used by people all around the world, so Gaon decided to learn it. He spent months practicing, but he never got the chance to use it. Eventually, he thought all his hard work had been pointless. One day, while delivering food to a swimming gym, Gaon saw a girl standing beside the pool with a timer in her hand. She was coaching a swimmer and communicating with her through sign language. The moment he saw her, he couldn't take his eyes off her. After the training session ended, Gaon approached the swimmer and asked for the coach's name. The swimmer smiled and told him that the coach's name was Y/N. She also introduced herself as Y/N's younger sister. From that day on, Gaon volunteered whenever there was a delivery to the swimming gym. Every visit gave him another chance to see Y/N. Since he knew sign language, he tried talking to her whenever he could. At first, their conversations were short and awkward because Y/N was always busy helping her sister train.

In the heart of Seoul, fashion wasn’t just something you wore—it was something you lived. O.de and Y/N didn’t know each other, but they were strangely similar in ways that mattered. Both of them had entire rooms dedicated to clothes—organized not by season, but by mood. Bold outfits for confident days, soft layers for quiet ones, experimental looks for when they felt like becoming someone new. And without ever planning it, they had another shared habit. Every week, twice a week, they ended up at the same small 24-hour convenience store. Not because they knew each other—just coincidence. And every time, they reached for the same thing without fail: Chewy Dubai chocolate cookies. No conversation. No greetings. Just two strangers standing in opposite aisles, picking the same snack like it was fate quietly repeating itself. Then came the day everything shifted. At a fashion festival in the heart of Gangnam District, the streets were glowing with lights, cameras, and people dressed like walking art pieces. That’s where O.de and Y/N finally crossed paths properly. O.de, a member of O.de, was already known for his unique sense of style—someone who treated fashion like storytelling. Y/N, on the other hand, didn’t follow trends. She created moments with what she wore. They noticed each other instantly. Not because they spoke first—but because they were wearing pieces that felt like they belonged in the same conversation. A silent understanding passed between them in the middle of the crowd: you get it too. That was the beginning. After that night, they started seeing each other more often. Not planned. Just… happening. And somewhere between late-night talks and matching snack runs, O.de started realizing something he didn’t expect. He liked her. Not just her style. Not just her mind. Just her.

Jake transfers to a new college, doesn’t really care about fitting in—just living his life, being a little clueless and chill. Then there’s Y/N. Everyone knows her. Not because she tries—but because of her natural white hair, her quiet personality, and the way she always seems… a little distant. They don’t talk. Until one random day— Jake forgets his pen, turns to the nearest person, and goes: “Uh… can I borrow one?” And it’s her. That’s it. That’s the start. At first, their conversations are small and awkward. But Jake is naturally easygoing, and Y/N slowly opens up. He notices little things: she likes sitting near windows she always looks at the sky before leaving she doesn’t have many close friends Then one day, he ends up at her house. And that’s when he realizes— Her whole room is filled with stars. Glow-in-the-dark stars. Drawings of constellations. Photos of the night sky. And on her desk… a few tiny origami stars. He asks about them. She shrugs and says something like: “Each star is a wish… or something I want to remember.” From that day on, Jake starts folding stars. At first it’s just for fun. Then it becomes a habit. Every time: after talking to her after she smiles after she says something he wants to remember He folds one. Time skip → 2 months He doesn’t tell her. He just keeps making them. Quietly.

In the quiet hum of a 1980s neighborhood, where mornings began with the sound of bicycle wheels and the distant crackle of radios, Y/N lived a simple life. A single mother of twin girls, both only five, her days were filled with small hands tugging at her sleeves and soft giggles echoing through their modest home. Life wasn’t easy—but it was hers, and she held onto it with quiet strength. Every morning, just before the sun fully rose, the familiar sound of a bicycle would pass down her street. That was him. Bangchan. The newspaper boy. He rode a slightly worn bicycle, a stack of freshly printed newspapers tucked under his arm, ink still faintly smudged against his fingers. He never stayed long—just dropped the paper at each doorstep and disappeared down the road. Until one morning. Y/N stepped out of her house, heading to buy groceries, her mind already filled with a list of things she needed. At the same time, Bangchan reached her doorstep, lifting his hand to place the newspaper down. Neither of them noticed the other. And then— thud. The door swung open. Straight into his face. “Ah—!” he stumbled back, clutching his nose. “Oh my—! I’m so sorry!” Y/N gasped, rushing forward, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. For a moment, there was silence. Then Bangchan let out a soft laugh, lowering his hand, a small smile forming despite the situation. “It’s okay… I guess I should’ve knocked first,” he said gently. And just like that— That was how they met. From that day on, mornings changed. Y/N began waiting outside, just a few minutes earlier than usual, her twins still asleep inside. She would stand by the door, pretending it wasn’t intentional. And Bangchan noticed. He slowed his bicycle when he reached her house, stepping off instead of tossing the paper like he did for everyone else. He handed it to her directly, always with that same warm, quiet smile. Simple. Routine But slowly… it became something more.