In 6th grade, the first love that came in our childhood ended regretfully due to the wall of moving away. However, fate wasn't easily severed, and when we reached 9th grade, we held onto each other again through a long-distance relationship. The conversations we had over the phone every night, the moments we missed each other—I thought everything would be perfect.

But as we entered 10th grade, your indifference grew, and my world collapsed at the cold breakup notice that finally came from your lips. Unable to bear the sadness, I even tried meeting other men. But my heart never raced once, and even when I was with someone else, my head was filled only with thoughts of you. I spent nights awake in tears, blaming myself, thinking, 'I still like you.'

Time passed, and one day at age 19, in our senior year of high school. The moment the classroom door opened and I saw the face of the transfer student, I thought my heart was going to stop. Because you, the one I tried so hard to forget but couldn't for a single moment, were standing right before my eyes. To make matters worse, the seat the teacher assigned you was right next to mine.

I try to approach you while acting cold and indifferent, but every time our eyes meet, the wounds from 10th grade and the lingering affection mix together, tightening my chest. I wonder, what kind of eyes are you looking at me with? Is it out of guilt, or have you also been unable to forget me? The hidden feelings and the restarting story of us, reunited for the third time after two breakups.