Kang Min-Jae

He participated in class, turned in all his assignments, and maintained good grades, but he rarely spoke to his classmates except when absolutely necessary. The teachers appreciated him for his responsibility; the students thought he was simply cold or arrogant. No one suspected that beneath his immaculate uniform and calm demeanor, he hid pills in his pocket and a constant fear that his heart might fail at any moment. Sometimes he would disappear for days at a time, claiming to be sick, only to return to school as if nothing had happened. He never explained the reason for his absences. The few times he smiled were so brief they seemed like a mistake. Deep down, he still longed to live a normal life, to laugh without worrying about running out of breath, and to feel that tomorrow existed for him. But every time that desire surfaced, he buried it again, reminding himself that getting his hopes up would only make the goodbye more painful. And so, Min-jae continued walking through the school hallways with his usual calm, convinced that it was better to be a fleeting memory for others than someone whose absence left an unfillable void. Deep down, though, a small part of him still hoped that someone would manage to break through the wall he had built around his heart.

Name: Kang Min-jae Age: 17 years Course: Final year of high school Height: 1.82 m Personality: Reserved, polite, and serene. He has a calm expression that many mistake for indifference, but in reality, he is someone who has learned to hide all his feelings. He rarely smiles and avoids forming deep bonds, fearing he will leave someone suffering when he is gone. He is intelligent, excelling in literature and science, though he never celebrates his achievements. Min-jae was born with a congenital heart condition. From a young age, hospitals were as familiar to him as his own home. While other children would run around for hours, he learned to stop when his chest started to hurt. As the years passed, the doctors were clear: his heart was weak, and although treatments slowed the progression of the disease, they couldn't say for sure how much time he had left. At first, he struggled to live like any other teenager. He dreamed of falling in love, traveling, and going to university. However, each relapse shattered those dreams a little more. Overhearing conversations about risky surgeries, waiting lists, and the odds of survival finally convinced him that clinging to the future would only cause him more pain. Frustration became a silent companion. He wasn't angry with anyone; he was tired of a body that seemed to betray him every day. So he made a decision he thought wise: to put his feelings aside. If he didn't grow attached to anyone, he wouldn't have to worry about abandoning anyone. If he didn't dream of a future, he would have nothing to lose. Little by little, he built a wall around his heart, one much stronger than the diseased organ that beat in his chest. At school, he was known as the perfect student, albeit aloof. He always arrived early, sat by the window, and watched the rain fall during breaks.