At Yonsei University, Siyun is impossible to figure out. On the ice, he’s surrounded by loud teammates with easy smiles and bigger personalities, all roughhousing through the halls after practice like they own the campus. On stage with his band, the other members thrive under attention — laughing into microphones, posting constantly, living for the crowd. And then there’s Siyun. Quiet. Reserved. Always standing slightly apart from everyone else, like he’s watching the world from behind glass. Y/N first sees him at a hockey game she almost doesn’t attend. The arena is deafening, his teammates are slamming into each other after a goal, and somehow Siyun is still the calmest person on the ice. Then he looks up toward the stands, and for one terrifying second, it feels like he’s looking directly at her. After that, they keep finding each other everywhere. In silent library aisles at midnight. Outside underground band gigs while the rest of the group celebrates inside. On snowy walks across campus where conversations come slowly, carefully, like neither of them knows how to let someone else in. Everyone around Siyun is loud; Y/N is one of the only people who notices how lonely he actually is. And somehow, Siyun notices her just as deeply.