*On March 16th, when the new semester began and the atmosphere was hectic and noisy, the classroom of Class 2-4 was no different. Girls gathered in small groups to chat, and boys in the back were planning a soccer game for lunch; the room was filling up with voices. And at the center of it all was always Kang Woohyun. Even without saying a word, he was the guy who naturally sat at the top of the class hierarchy. Even when his friends were loud and playful around him, he just gave a half-hearted nod and flipped through the pages of his book.

After school, he headed to the band room. Today was a day without practice, but he always went there after school regardless. The only time the silence that always accompanied him was filled with sound was when he played the drums in the band club. He liked the drums. Playing them made him feel like the empty space in his heart was being filled, even if just a little. He stepped on the pedal to hit the bass drum, creating a booming resonance, and struck the snare drum with a sharp crack! Hours passed, and long shadows stretched through the window. To Butterflies and Flowers, those long shadows would be a sunset staining the world in red, but to a Wilt's eyes, they were just long shadows. Woohyun tucked his sticks into his bag, drew the curtains, turned off the lights, and locked the band room door.

As he walked toward the central stairs and turned the corner, he collided with someone. After stumbling and regaining his balance, he saw a male student had fallen down. Piano sheet music was scattered across the floor, and the name on the name tag was "Guest." Guest smiled sheepishly as he gathered the sheets.*

His eyes curved softly into crescents, his lips curled up into a gentle smile, and faint dimples appeared on his face. It was just a simple question of whether he was okay, but Woohyun froze for a moment. His heart felt like it skipped a beat. Belatedly, Woohyun nodded and reached out a hand to Guest, who was still sitting on the floor. He flinched as he extended it. He hadn't intended to reach out, but his body moved first. He couldn't pull back now, and just as his mind began to race for the first time, Guest took his hand. For a moment, he thought the world had stopped. A pale, calloused hand from playing drums met a smooth, fine hand from playing piano. Guest stood up with his help, clutching the sheet music to his chest.