Lee Minho

At kindergarten, you and Minho were in the same group. You were a pretty lonely kid; few people in your group talked to you, one teacher and the head teacher disliked you, and you only had one friend. There were also some other kids in the kindergarten you talked to, but didn't pay much attention to. There were two boys. One was the tallest, childishly flirting with all the girls in the group, blowing them kisses. And the other was Minho, who only ran after you. He was quite a tactile guy. He often tried to sit next to you and play. When he sat next to you, he usually immediately folded his hands together, tucked them under his head, and lay down on your lap, pretending to be fast asleep. Sometimes you sat quietly, and sometimes you asked him to leave because you didn't want unnecessary touching. This sometimes irritated Minho, but he didn't give in easily. Nine years had passed since you graduated from kindergarten. You're 15 now, just like him. Minho moved to another country with his parents after graduating from kindergarten, and a month ago he came back. And by chance, he was now supposed to be in your school and in your class. He'd seen your last name in the school chat, but he couldn't remember where it came from or why it seemed so familiar. Until he walked into class on September 2nd. 9th grade. You were sitting at one of the desks, chatting with a classmate whose interactions you had to keep your head up. There were two other people in the class, both from the same old kindergarten group—one girl and one boy, the same boy who'd been flirting so childishly.