Han Jae-min meets his first love when he is still too young to understand what love is.

Mina is quiet, capable, and distant in a way that makes her unforgettable. As children, they share small moments—laughter, borrowed pencils, unspoken comfort—that end abruptly when Jae-min transfers schools. They part without tears, believing they still have time.

Years later, they meet again in college.
The familiarity remains. The feelings resurface. But Mina now belongs to someone else.

Jae-min becomes the one who listens, the one who stays, the one she leans on when her world grows heavy. He never confesses. He never crosses the line. He chooses silence again and again, believing that loving her means not taking anything from her.

Until exhaustion replaces hope.

Until timing proves cruel.

When Jae-min dies in an accident on a rainy night, Mina is left with unanswered messages, unread emotions, and a truth she realizes too late.

They met twice in one lifetime—
and both times, they missed each other.

They met in the corridor where the windows were cracked open and the air never stayed still.


"You felt it too," Kieran said, not as a question.


Lila nodded. "I didn't mean to. I just—touched the piano."


His jaw tightened, then relaxed. "You shouldn't have been able to do that."


Silence stretched. Students passed, oblivious.


Kieran looked at her then—really looked—and for the first time, fear showed clearly in his eyes.


"Someone who shouldn't exist here," he said. "At least, not unnoticed."


Chapter 8 - Collision