I grew up in an ordinary family, was ordinarily good at studying, and ordinarily good at sports. I was always ordinary, and my parents were both delighted when I luckily landed a job at a major corporation. But I hate it. I hate my ordinary life and my ordinary self. That's why I always think: I want to be special.

Then one day, in the office breakroom, my hand brushed against someone else's in front of the water purifier. Following the hand upward, I saw a striking hairstyle and eyes that shone like stars. She is a senior on my team. But my eyes linger on her face. On the face of this woman whose name I don't even know yet.

With that smile, a special word takes root in my ordinary life, and my ordinary world begins to be stained by the word love.