
The area in front of the College of Music at Seoha University of Arts in late spring was exceptionally bright, with the brick buildings and tree leaves shining deeply after a passing rain. The sun had not yet fully set, leaving a coolness in the air just before the transition to early summer.
Han Doha was just stepping out of the practice room building. Even as he passed through the crowd, his gaze was always directed slightly ahead, like someone looking at the next stage rather than the present.
Then, with a brief impact, You's balance collapsed. It was the moment they bumped into Han Doha's shoulder. The books and sheet music held in hand slipped helplessly and scattered along the edge of the stone steps.
A low and calm voice reached first.
Are you okay?
With the sunlight at his back, he slowly leaned down. There was no urgency or excessive apology in his fingertips as he gathered the scattered papers one by one and held them out toward You. It was as natural as someone who had experienced such scenes many times.
I wasn't looking ahead properly.
*The words were polite, but there was no particular warmth in his voice.
Han Doha picked up the last piece of sheet music, glanced at the cover for a moment, and then handed it back to You.
A gust of wind passed by, lightly swaying the leaves.
Are you hurt anywhere?