Chapter Text
My name is Lee Kyungmin, and for as long as I’ve remembered, I have been in love with my best friend, Sakurada Kenshin.
When I was 6, I didn’t know what love was. I just knew that Kenshin made everything louder.
Kindergarten smelled like glue and crayons, and we spent most of our days on the floor. Chaewon, Kenshin, and I always ended up in the same corner, even when the teacher tried to separate us.
“Kenshin, stop eating the Play-Doh!” Chaewon scolded.
“I’m not eating it,” Kenshin argued, cheeks suspiciously puffed. “I’m tasting it.”
I sat beside them, holding a red toy car I’d forgotten to play with because Kenshin was laughing again. I stared at him without meaning to. He laughed with his whole body, like happiness was too big to stay inside him.
“Kyungmin,” Chaewon said, narrowing her eyes, “why do you keep looking at him?”
I jumped and immediately rolled the car into the wall. “I wasn’t.”
Kenshin turned to me. “Were you watching me?”
My face felt hot. “No…”
He smiled anyway. “That’s okay. You can.”
Chaewon sighed like she was already tired of us. Later, during nap time, she leaned over and whispered, “You’re weird.”
I didn’t argue.
That was it. That was kindergarten. No big realizations. Just me, staring too much, and Chaewon noticing everything.
We were 7, then 12. Elementary school came with scraped knees and playgrounds instead of nap mats.
When I was 12 I realised my feelings for him, Chaewon saw it before I did. She had for a long time. And she stood beside me throughout the long weeks of crying, denial and finally coming to terms to who I was.
We met every day by the swings, backpacks tossed on the ground like they didn’t matter, all that was important was each other, but deep inside of me, the only thing my eyes paid attention to was Kenshin's way of doing pretty much anything.
“Kenshin, push me higher!” Chaewon demanded.
“I am pushing you higher,” Kenshin said, shoving the swing so hard she shrieked. “You’re basically flying.”
I sat on the slide, watching them. Kenshin always did everything too much… running too fast, laughing too loud, waving his arms like he was an airplane about to take flight. Everything about him I admired, how he could turn silence into conversation. There’s something irresistible in how unapologetically he exists. My first love— Sakurada Kenshin. My mom always told me that the first love was something to be proud of. But mine was just sign that I was different.
“Kyungmin,” he called, “you’re supposed to be playing too!”
“I am,” I said, even though I wasn’t moving.
Chaewon hopped off the swing and plopped down next to me. “You like him more than me.”
“That’s not true,” I said quickly.
She studied my face, then shrugged. “Whatever. Just don’t leave me out…”
Whenever Kenshin grabbed my hand to drag me across the playground, my heart beat the fastest it had ever been, and I hoped he wouldn’t let go at all. When he was drowsy and fell asleep on my shoulder I froze, not because I was flustered— maybe I was. But because I didn’t want him to wake up. I wanted the moment to last for forever.
Middle school ruined everything.
Okay—that’s dramatic. But it felt like it at the time.
We still sat together. Chaewon still talked too much. Kenshin was still loud, still smiling, still completely oblivious. But suddenly, people started noticing things. Whispering. Passing notes that weren’t about homework.
“Why is everyone so weird now?” Kenshin asked one day, spinning his pen between his fingers.
Chaewon smirked. “Because you’re an idiot.”
I stayed quiet, my notebook open but empty. I’d been thinking about writing something for days, something I didn’t have the courage to say out loud.
I like you.
I wrote it, erased it, rewrote it. My hands shook so badly the letters looked crooked.
Kenshin leaned over. “What are you writing?”
I slammed the notebook shut. “Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said cheerfully, then turned back to his desk like it didn’t matter.
It mattered to me.
The classroom was noisy, chairs scraping, voices overlapping. I opened my notebook again, heart pounding, and tried one more time.
I like you.
A shadow fell over Kenshin’s desk.
“Hey,” a boy said. I didn’t recognize him. He was smiling—too confidently. “Can I talk to you about our plans next week?”
Kenshin looked up, bright as ever. “Of course, Andy!”
My pen slipped from my fingers and rolled off the desk as I watched them interact like they’d known each other for years. The way the boy was talking to him— it made me furious. I wasn’t used to another boy being this close with him. It was supposed to just be us.
I dug my fingers hard into my palms. What was this weird feeling? I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this way. A mix of anger and disappointment.. And the lingering feeling that I was too late.
I stared at the unfinished letter, at the words I’d never said, and realized—too late—that some things change before you’re ready.
That was me— Lee Kyungmin’s first heartbreak, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
________________________
The day it poured, my unresolved feelings and the rain.
Soon it was the third year of high school, and somehow, I hadn’t moved on from middle school.
Even though my legs were longer, my jaw was sharper, my voice was deeper— I was still gay with no game.
It was summer, the kind where the air feels heavy even when it rains. The sky had been gray all afternoon, rain pouring down like it had nowhere else to go. I sat on a bench outside a convenience store, my clothes already soaked through, legs damp, hair sticking to my forehead.
My phone buzzed.
Chaewon:
You should really get over him! If he really IS together with that Andy guy, you REALLY do need to move on…
I stared at the screen until the words blurred.
Me:
But I can’t!!! Kenshin’s been MY person for YEARS. As long as I can remember… I’ve never felt loved by anyone like that. But ever since Andy came into the picture, they’ve been spending every GOD DAMN second together… I feel replaced
The message sent. I clenched my fists. Rain dripping off my sleeves.
Chaewon:
Okay, I get it… but hey, you’ll find someone soon, okay?
Me : Soon??? It’s been almost 4 years… I’ve been on more ”blind dates” that you set up that I can remember, each one worse than the last. I’m starting to doubt if there really is anyone suitable for me out there
Chaewon didn’t reply.
I put my phone face-down on the bench and took another bite of the popsicle I’d bought five minutes ago. It was some cheap flavor I didn’t even like. Lemon, maybe. It tasted like regret and sugar water.
My eyes burned.
Tears came before I could stop them, mixing with the rain on my cheeks. Every time I thought about Kyungmin, I was only reminded of what we were and what we could’ve been if Andy didn’t exist. Would he still treat me like no one else did? Just like when we were little? I didn’t wipe the tears away. What was the point? I was already drenched. Anyone who saw me would just think it was the rain.
Not that anyone was seeing me.
The street was empty. Cars passed once in a while, spraying water across the asphalt, but no one walked by. It felt like the world had forgotten me, and honestly, that felt fitting.
That’s when the rain stopped hitting my head.
I frowned and looked up.
An umbrella hovered above me—black, plain. The person holding it stood a little too close, sneakers already soaked. He looked annoyed, like he’d debated walking past but ultimately lost. “You know you’re getting drenched, right?” he said.
His voice wasn’t unkind. Just… blunt.
”I’m aware.” I managed to mumble out— my voice trembling, seconds away from breaking.
“…Right.” He hesitated, shifting his grip on the umbrella. “You’re crying.”
“I know,” I said again, more quietly.
He exhaled through his nose, like he didn’t know what to do with that information. For a second, I thought he might just leave.
Instead, he angled the umbrella better, covering me properly this time.
It was just a small action. But the way my heart reacted told me otherwise.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” he said. “At least move under the awning or something.”
I shook my head, the motion small. The tears got worse, embarrassing and sudden, my breath hitching. I pressed my sleeve to my mouth, but it didn’t help.
“…Crap,” he muttered.
He crouched slightly, awkward, then reached out and patted my back—once. Too firm. Then again, gentler, like he was recalibrating.
“There,” he said, uncertain. “Uh. I’m bad at this.”
That almost made me laugh. It didn’t come out right. It sounded more like a sob.
He stayed anyway.
Didn’t ask what was wrong, not even why I was alone out here. For some reason— I felt comforted by the way he didn’t try to invade my personal matters.
After a while, he straightened and held the umbrella out to me.
“Take it,” he said. “I don’t need it.”
“You’ll get soaked,” I mumbled through sniffles.
He shrugged. “I already am.”
Our fingers brushed when I took it. He froze for a second— stepping back like he hadn’t meant to get that close.
“…Take care,” he said, glancing away. Then— like it embarrassed him to stay any longer, he turned and walked off into the rain.
I watched until he disappeared around the corner.
The street felt emptier than before.
I sat there for a long time, holding the umbrella. His touch lingering. Something had shifted. Not sure what it was, but it was there. And somehow— I could recognize this feeling.
Eventually, I picked up my phone.
Me:
Chaewon.
A pause.
Me:
Some guy gave me his umbrella.
_______________________
The strong familiar scent of Chaewon’s pink hair dye filled my head and I felt like I was inhaling toxic substances. Once again. A casual hangout. Tomorrow was the first day of school since summer break ended and I was here— helping Chaewon dye her hair before school started. It was a routine at this point. It was almost kind of therapeutic. We were mentally preparing for the worst. Second year of high school— we’ve heard a lot about that. But this time was the first dyeing session without Kenshin.
It’s not like we’re leaving him out or anything— he’s simply just not making time for us anymore. It’s like Andy’s taking him away from us. Normally, I would be sad. But this time’s different. I met someone yesterday that I can’t stop thinking about.
“You sure he wasn’t like 14?” Chaewon asked, her phone blasting reels on full volume.
“Positive. That was NOT a boy younger than 18.” I mumbled— actually, I wasn’t positive. I didn’t really get a good look at his face because of my dramatic meltdown. But if I ever see him again, I’ll for sure know.
She sighed. “Okay, then… are you over Kenshin yet?” It felt careful, her tone sounding gentle— as if she was scared it would hurt me.
“You think I am? Do you even know how hard it is to get over someone?” I groaned, taking a new lock of hair to dye— a bigger one than before. Needing to get out of this conversation as soon as possible.
“Uhm, do you even know how many boys have rejected me? Unlike you, I actually have an active love life.” She teased, pretending like she was actually serious about the boys she crushed on.
“Well, I keep on going on blind dates EVERY week because of you— if that isn’t an active love life, I don’t know what is!”
“Besides, you’re not even serious about the boys you date! You get over them in less than a day…” I murmured, wishing I had that problem. My endless yearning for a boy who was painfully clueless was hurtful.
She scoffed and put her hand against her chest dramatically. “Just because you have a yearning problem doesn’t mean you have to take it out on me! Besides— don’t you have a new crush now? That not-so nonchalant umbrella dude.”
“That’s—“ I had to think. For a longer time than I should have. Maybe I did develop a slight crush on that mysterious boy I met yesterday— but he was NO match for Kenshin. At all. “I wouldn’t call it a crush… I just admire the way he took care of me…”
I stirred the pink dye again, trying not to think too hard, but Chaewon wasn’t letting me off that easily.
“So,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “are we just… never talking about Kenshin anymore?”
I froze, brush halfway to her hair. “I mean… he’s still my favorite person, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m… overdramatic about him.”
“Overdramatic? Kyungmin, you wrote a thirty-line note to him in middle school that you never sent. Overdramatic doesn’t even begin to cover it.” She smirked.
I groaned. “I was like 12.”
Chaewon rolled her eyes. “Fine, fine. But what about this… umbrella guy? The mysterious stranger.”
“I don’t even know his name,” I muttered. “And I wasn’t exactly in the right state to ask.”
“So you just… cried in front of him, eating your soggy popsicle, and he didn’t run?” She teased. “He sounds suspiciously kind for someone who seems like he might actually be trouble.”
“I think he’s different,” I said, dipping the brush again. “Not like Kenshin. Not loud. Not oblivious. Calm, but not boring. Kind of… awkward.”
“Awkward? Oh, that’s your type now?” Chaewon laughed. “From oblivious sunshine to mysterious umbrella guy. You’re complicated.”
I shrugged, pretending not to care. “I didn’t choose it.”
We paused as the dye settled. Outside, the hum of the city crept in through the open window. I could practically feel the tension rising for tomorrow—the first day back, the start of third year. And with it… the social hierarchy.
“You know,” Chaewon said, voice dropping just a notch, “Woonhak’s graduating. The whole popular trio’s gonna be a mess next year.”
I nodded. “Yeah… Sanghyeon’s probably gonna act like he’s in charge just because he gets all the girls.” I couldn’t help but scoff as I said that.
Chaewon rolled her eyes. “Right. He’s probably the world’s biggest douchebag.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. I can’t really know, right? I’m not even sure any of the popular kids know I exist.”
She shook her head. “Well—you’re not exactly invisible when you’re around Kenshin. He’s loud. Actually, it’s gotten worse over the years.”
I chuckled. “He’s not really around me anymore though. Or, not as much. Andy’s been… taking up all his time.”
Chaewon raised an eyebrow. “Ugh. Andy.”
“I know,” I groaned. “Every time I see them together, it’s like—he’s completely replaced me in Kenshin’s world. And it’s not even subtle. They’re always laughing, always talking, always—” I trailed off.
“Obsessing over each other?” Chaewon offered, raising an eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Figures,” she said. “Kenshin deserves friends, but Andy? That guy’s trouble waiting to happen.”
I shrugged. “I can’t really stop feeling… jealous, I guess. But I also can’t do anything about it. It’s not like I own Kenshin or something.”
Chaewon sighed. “Stop spacing out now, Kyungmin. You’re gonna miss the important school stuff that happened over summer school— like the fact that Leo and Sangwon were beefing in the staff room again.”
I blinked. “What? Seriously?”
Chaewon laughed. “Yeah. And you know those two—they’re always bickering. But I swear there’s… something. Not hetero, probably, but it’s hilarious to watch.”
I snorted despite myself. The image was ridiculous—creepy teachers pretending to fight while everyone else tried to avoid them.
We were quiet for a moment. I went back to dyeing her hair, trying to focus. But my thoughts kept drifting. Kenshin. Andy. The umbrella boy. Woonhak’s looming graduation. All of it swirling together.
“And don’t even get me started on tomorrow,” Chaewon said suddenly. “First day back, drenched in second-year stress, new leadership drama, and probably some random boy trying to talk to me in the hallways, wanting me to join his waifu club.”
I swallowed, unsure whether she was joking or if fate was conspiring. I’d just… hope for a repeat of yesterday’s weird, awkward miracle.
A small part of me—the part that had barely survived crying in the rain—wondered if I’d see him again.
And if I did… maybe things wouldn’t feel quite so heavy for a while.
The dyeing session used to take 2 hours with Kenshin by my side to help. It’s been 4 hours now— It was small but that was the start of the changes that were about to occur.