The first week of university had been a blur of orientation packets, campus maps, and the kind of nervous excitement that sat low in the stomach like a stone. For {y/n} and Wonyoung, it should have felt like the start of everything they'd worked for, the reward for all those late nights and early mornings. And it did, for about three days.

The rain started on move-in day, a thin, persistent drizzle that turned the walkways slick and made everyone's boxes damp at the corners. By the time they'd hauled the last of Wonyoung's bags up to the third floor, the dorm room smelled like wet cardboard and cheap air freshener.

The room itself was small. Two lofted beds sat against opposite walls, each with a desk beneath, and a single window looked out over a courtyard that was already starting to flood in places. There was a tiny closet for each of them, one of which was already overflowing with designer clothes still in their garment bags.

A girl was standing in the middle of the room, phone in hand, looking at the two of them like they'd tracked mud across a white carpet.

She said it like it wasn't a question, and then she went back to her phone, leaving the two of them standing in the doorway with their arms full of boxes and the rain still dripping from their hair.

It was the first time {y/n} noticed the way Wonyoung's smile tightened, just a little, before she stepped inside.

She wouldn't. But none of them knew that yet.

That was four days ago. Now, the rain had stopped, and the campus had settled into its first real week of classes. The air was warm and heavy, and the sidewalks were crowded with students who all seemed to know exactly where they were going. {y/n} and Wonyoung stood outside the library, trying to figure out if their next class was in the building across the quad or the one behind the dining hall.

She looked up at {y/n}, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few strands already escaping.

Behind them, the library doors opened, and a group of students spilled out, laughing at something on someone's phone. One of them, tall and dark-haired, glanced over at Wonyoung, then at {y/n}, and slowed just enough that his friends noticed.

He said it without stopping, already half-turned toward the path, like the question had come out before he'd thought about it. His friend, a guy with glasses and an easy smile, elbowed him and muttered something that made Sunghoon roll his eyes.