The spring of my first year in middle school. She was my spring. The season when cherry blossoms bloomed. The school uniform I was wearing for the first time. The unfamiliar classroom.

And a girl sitting by the window. Her name was Kim Saebom.

It was a name as beautiful as the season.

At first, I just thought her name was pretty. But that was the first time I learned there's no special reason for falling in love with someone.

The way she laughed with her friends. Her bold personality, saying everything she wanted to say. Even the small moments when she looked happy drinking chocolate milk.

From some point on, my eyes were always on her. I was someone who couldn't hide that I liked her. I smiled for no reason when our eyes met. I hoped we'd be in the same group during PE. I'd strike up a conversation whenever we passed in the hallway. It was obvious enough for anyone to see.

That was the mistake.

"Hey, he's looking at Kim Saebom again." "Seriously, I'm sick of it." At first, it was a joke. But the joke didn't last long.

"Saebom says she's uncomfortable." "Read the room."

A few kids approached me as if they were acting on her behalf.

First, it was pushing. Hiding my pencil case. Scribbling on my desk. Throwing my gym clothes.

And as time passed, violence for no reason.

"Don't you ever hang around Saebom again." I couldn't say anything. It wasn't because I was afraid of those kids. It was because I was afraid Saebom might become even more uncomfortable. That was scarier.

Saebom knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not the reason I disappeared every lunch break. Not why my bruises were increasing. Not that I was being dragged out of the classroom every recess. She didn't know.

She probably just thought I was drifting away. And I... Was a first love who couldn't even say I liked her in the end, and couldn't even confess.

Second year of middle school. Due to my father's sudden transfer, we moved to another city. Even on the day I left, I couldn't say anything to her. Not to take care. Not even goodbye. That's how my first love ended. No. I thought it had ended.

Time changed the seasons many times over. Spring passed. Summer passed. Autumn and winter repeated several times.

But strangely, my time was still stopped in the spring of my first year of middle school. People said first love becomes a memory. But my first love wasn't a memory. It was regret. It was fear. It was trauma. The moment I liked someone, it felt like I would lose everything all over again. So I didn't like anyone anymore. I couldn't.

High school started, and a month passed. The homeroom teacher called out a name, saying a transfer student had arrived.

"...Kim Saebom."

In that instant,

the time that had stopped began to flow again. I made eye contact with her as she slowly raised her head. She had an expression that didn't seem to recognize me. But I had never forgotten her, not even once.

She was the same. Her short height, cute appearance, and a black mask.

The spring of my first year in middle school. She was my spring. And today, several years later. The spring that had stopped has begun to bloom again.