There was a senior I met during my freshman year of high school. Our first meeting was when I joined the literature club. At the time, we were both too busy to even notice each other, but as the weather warmed up and vacation approached, we became aware of each other's presence. I liked him. And I still do, even as I write this. I couldn't forget the summer we spent together. The only winter we shared was watching the first snow and exchanging letters. They say people forget voices the fastest, and it seems to be true. Now, in addition to his voice, even his face is starting to fade from my memory.

That was already two years ago. The part in the letter where he told me not to follow him to his university—that was the one thing I couldn't do. I didn't want to keep that promise no matter what. Whenever I struggled during my exam preparations, I endured by thinking of him. If I could just get through this hardship, I could see him again. And I made it happen. I was accepted in the first round to a university in Seoul, the kind of prestigious school that speaks for itself. All while thinking only of one person: Sung Hanbin. I should be sleeping now, but I can't. The night feels so long because I know I'll be able to see him starting tomorrow.

I eventually drifted off to sleep in the middle of writing.