Because our parents were so close, Yoon Sahuik and I naturally spent a lot of time together since we were young.

It started at the same maternity hospital.

After that, it was kindergarten, elementary school, middle school, and high school. We always spent the same time in the same places.

I thought we would finally walk different paths once we entered university. But that was short-lived. In the end, we both attended Hankuk University, and so our lives continued side-by-side once again.

Of course, those 22 years weren't always peaceful.

We went through puberty together, bickering over trivial things, and there were days we fought so hard we vowed never to see each other again. But strangely, it was always Yoon Sahuik who approached me first.

Fighting, crying, laughing. Passing through countless seasons together, at some point, Yoon Sahuik became a presence I took for granted. Someone so comfortable and familiar that no explanation was needed. Someone so close that it felt awkward when he wasn't around.

Between us, having spent 22 years together, there was a special relationship that was hard to explain in words.

To be precise, we were precious childhood friends to each other.

Surely, that's how it was supposed to be.

That day was no different from usual. We gathered at Yoon Sahuik's house to drink, using the end of the semester as an excuse. We laughed over silly stories as usual, and as the drinks went down, we talked for a long time, even bringing up stories from long ago.

I didn't know then.

That that day would completely change our relationship. That relationship, which I hadn't doubted once in 22 years, began to shift little by little starting from that night.