Chapter Text
Jisung
The first thing Jisung noticed was the air. It wasn’t cold yet. Autumn didn’t bite here the way it did back home, but it had teeth all the same, hiding behind warmth like it was waiting for the right moment. The breeze carried the smell of damp soil and something faintly sweet, like crushed leaves. Somewhere nearby, a tree shed its colors in slow motion, red and gold spiraling down past tall windows that made the campus look like it belonged in a brochure.
Jisung tightened his grip on the handle of his suitcase and told himself he was not going to be impressed.
He was going to be practical. Focused, like someone who actually belonged here. The wheel of his suitcase caught on a crack in the pavement. It jerked sideways, and he stumbled, swearing under his breath. A couple of students passed him, laughing, talking about something that sounded like a party, and didn’t even glance his way.
Good, he thought. Don’t look. Don’t see me.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Felix: WHERE ARE YOUUU? I’M COMING TO FIND YOU. DON’T MOVE.
Jisung huffed out a laugh that came out more nervous than amused. He typed back with one hand while dragging the suitcase with the other.
Jisung: I’m literally in front of the dorm. I am not moving because I have a heavy suitcase. It hates me.
He looked up at the building looming ahead.
Dorm A wasn’t ugly. It wasn’t even plain. It was polished. All clean stone and sharp angles softened by ivy crawling up the sides like the place was trying to pretend it was older than it was. A wide staircase led to glass doors that reflected the campus behind him, the trees blazing like fire. Through the glass, he could see the lobby, warm lights, a sofa area, a noticeboard already plastered with flyers.
It looked expensive, but not in an obvious way, more like the kind of money that didn’t need to prove anything.
His scholarship letter was folded in his backpack like a talisman and a threat.
He adjusted the straps and hauled his suitcase up the steps, one at a time. The glass doors opened automatically, releasing a gust of warm air that smelled like laundry detergent and something floral, like someone had tried to make the entire building feel welcoming.
Jisung stepped inside, and for a moment, the lobby swallowed him. Voices echoed off the walls. A student behind the front desk was arguing with someone about keys. Someone else was dragging a mini-fridge across the tile floor with a noise that made Jisung’s teeth itch. A cluster of parents stood near the couches, hovering like protective birds.
He stood there with his suitcase and his backpack and the sudden, acute awareness that he could still turn around.
He could still...
“JISUNG!”
The shout ricocheted off the ceiling. Before Jisung could even brace himself, a body barreled into him from the side, warm, solid, and smelling like citrus and shampoo. Arms looped around his shoulders. Jisung staggered under the impact, suitcase tipping, but Felix caught him like it was instinct.
“You’re here.” Felix said, breathless, like he’d been holding it in for days. His smile was too bright for indoors. “You’re actually here.”
Jisung blinked at him. Felix looked like he’d stepped out of sunlight and decided to stay that way, soft blond hair that fell into his eyes, freckles , a hoodie the color of cream, and an expression that made strangers confess their life secrets.
Jisung’s chest tightened, relief sharp enough to sting.
“Hi” he managed to say.
Felix pulled back just enough to look him up and down. His eyes flicked to the suitcase, then Jisung’s face. “You look like you fought the pavement.”
“The pavement started it.” Jisung said automatically.
Felix laughed, delighted, and grabbed the suitcase handle like it belonged to him. “Come on. I already got our floor map. We’re on the fourth. You and Seungmin are together, and I’m with Jeongin.”
“Wait.” Jisung interrupted, mind snagging on the name. “Seungmin as in... Kim Seungmin?”
Felix’s grin widened in a way that should’ve been illegal. “Yes. That Seungmin. The one you said looked like he’d judge you for breathing wrong.”
“I said he looked like he’d judge me for existing.” Jisung corrected, because if he didn’t cling to accuracy, he was going to start spiraling.
Felix hummed thoughtfully. “Well. You do exist. So.”
Jisung shot him a look. Felix just beamed harder.
They crossed the lobby together, Felix pulling the suitcase with casual strength that made Jisung vaguely offended. They passed the noticeboard and Felix pointed at it like a tour guide on commission.
“Okay, so: laundry is in the basement, quiet hours start at ten, which nobody follows, and there’s a mentorship thing for freshmen.”
Jisung’s stomach dropped a little. “A what thing?”
Felix waved a hand. “Mentor program. They assign you some older student to show you around. It’s probably fine. You’ll get someone normal.”
Jisung made a noise that wasn’t quite a laugh.
They reached the elevator. Felix hit the button with way too much enthusiasm, bouncing on his heels like he couldn’t help it.
“How are you?” Felix asked suddenly, softer. “Like… really.”
Jisung hesitated. The honest answer sat on his tongue, heavy.
I’m scared. I don’t know if I belong here, if I’m good enough, if I can even keep the scholarship. And I don’t know if my mom cried because she was proud or because she thinks I’ll come back broken. Instead, he shrugged.
“I’m here.” he said.
Felix’s expression shifted into understanding. Like he knew Jisung’s lies by shape.
“That‘s what counts.” Felix said, and then the elevator doors opened with a ding that felt too cheerful.
The fourth floor smelled like cardboard and new paint and someone’s overly aggressive air freshener. The hallway was long, lined with identical doors, each with a small peephole and a metal number plate. Light from the windows at the end of the corridor spilled across the carpet in pale strips, and outside, the trees were a riot of color.
Jisung paused at the window for half a second. The campus stretched out below: brick paths, benches, students weaving between buildings, leaves tumbling around their ankles. It was beautiful in the way things were beautiful when you weren’t sure you deserved them.
Felix nudged him gently. “Come on, scholarship boy. Room 412.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Can’t help it. It’s kinda hot.”
Jisung choked. “Felix.”
Felix laughed like he’d won.
Room 412 was at the end of the hall. Felix pulled a keycard from his pocket, swiped it, and pushed the door open with a flourish like he was unveiling a masterpiece.
“Welcome home.” he announced.
The room was small, close and comfortable. Two beds, two desks, two wardrobes, beige walls, nothing personal. A window overlooking a courtyard where leaves collected in corners like secrets. The afternoon light came in warm and slanted, painting everything gold.
On the left side bed, a suitcase already sat neatly beside the frame. The sheets were pulled tight with military precision. A stack of books was aligned on the desk, perfectly squared. A laptop sat closed, centered. There was a single pen placed parallel to the desk edge like someone had measured it.
Jisung stared.
Felix whispered, like they were in a museum. “He’s already here.”
As if summoned by the comment, the bathroom door opened.
Seungmin stepped out holding a small toiletry bag, his hair still damp like he’d just showered. He wore a plain black t-shirt and sweatpants, no brand logos, no mess. His face was calm in a way that made Jisung’s skin itch.
His gaze settled on Jisung. They were dark, sharp, unreadable.
“Felix” Seungmin said, voice even.
“Seungmin!” Felix chirped, ignoring the lack of matching energy. “This is Jisung, your roommate.”
Seungmin’s gaze shifted to Jisung, assessing him in a quick sweep: shoes, backpack, posture, the slight tremor in his hands.
Jisung fought the urge to stand straighter.
“Hi.” Jisung said.
Seungmin nodded once. “Hi.”
There was a beat of silence where Jisung could practically hear Felix thinking please don’t be weird please don’t be weird please don’t be...
Then Seungmin added, almost neutrally “Your suitcase wheel is broken.”
Jisung blinked. “It’s not broken.”
“It’s wobbling.” Seungmin corrected.
Felix gasped like this was a crime. “Did you hurt your suitcase, Jisung?”
“My suitcase hurt me.” Jisung muttered, dropping his backpack onto his bed. It bounced once and landed lopsided.
Seungmin’s eyes flicked to it. Something in his expression tightened by a millimeter.
Felix clapped his hands once, too loudly. “Okay! Roommate introductions done. I’m going to grab Jeongin and bring him so we can all be awkward together.”
Seungmin’s gaze snapped to Felix. “Don’t be loud in the hallway.”
Felix saluted. “Yes, sir.”
He winked at Jisung and disappeared before Seungmin could object.
The door shut. Silence settled in the room.
Jisung looked around again, taking inventory. He was used to sharing space, used to small apartments, thin walls, the constant presence of other people. But Seungmin’s presence felt unfamiliar. Like the air itself belonged to him.
Seungmin placed his toiletry bag on his shelf with meticulous care.
Jisung sat on his bed, testing the mattress. It was softer than he expected. “I’m not loud.” Jisung said, because his brain couldn’t handle silence.
Seungmin glanced at him. “You’re not quiet either.”
Jisung’s mouth fell open. “I just said one sentence.”
“And you already argued about it.” Seungmin replied, tone still flat, like it was an observation.
Jisung stared at him for a second. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
Seungmin didn’t smile, but something in his eyes shifted, like he’d registered that Jisung wasn’t going to crumble.
“Fine.” Jisung said, leaning back on his hands. “So you’re the ‘quiet roommate’ type.”
“I’m the ‘don’t make my life harder’ type.” Seungmin corrected.
“Same” Jisung lied.
Seungmin’s gaze flicked to Jisung’s backpack, still half-open, scholarship letter probably visible if you looked closely. He didn’t comment. Jisung wondered if he’d noticed anyway.
Felix returned twenty minutes later with a boy in tow who looked like he’d been dragged out of a daydream. Jeongin was taller than Felix and shorter than Seungmin, with soft brown hair and curious eyes that missed nothing. He wore a denim jacket over a hoodie, and his expression hovered between excited and politely terrified.
“This” Felix announced “is Jeongin. My roommate. Our baby.”
“I’m not a baby.” Jeongin protested immediately, voice light, and then he looked at Jisung and Seungmin like he was trying to map their faces.
“Hi.” Jeongin said. “I’m Jeongin.”
“Han Jisung.” Jisung said. “Nice to meet you.”
Jeongin blinked, then smiled. “I like you.”
Seungmin sighed like he’d already decided he was doomed.
Felix flopped onto Jisung’s bed without asking. “So! Dorm life. Ground rules. Friendship bracelets. Blood oath.”
“No blood.” Seungmin said instantly.
Felix pouted. “You’re no fun.”
“I’m plenty fun.” Seungmin replied, deadpan.
Jisung raised an eyebrow. “Name one fun thing you’ve ever done.”
Seungmin looked at him. “I’m doing it right now. I’m socializing.”
Jeongin snorted.
Felix slapped a hand over his mouth dramatically. “He’s joking! He can joke!”
“He can make statements.” Jisung said. “I don’t know if that counts.”
Seungmin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re going to be a problem.”
Jisung smiled sweetly. “I’m a scholarship.”
Felix made a noise like he’d been punched. “Stop saying it like that.”
Jeongin leaned forward, fascinated. “Is it true? You got a scholarship?”
Jisung’s smile faltered before he could stop it.
“It’s not...” he started.
“Yeah.” Felix said proudly, like he’d done it himself. “He’s insanely talented.”
Seungmin’s gaze sharpened. “What’s your major?”
Jisung exhaled. There was no point hiding it, it would come up anyway.
“Fashion design.” he said.
Jeongin’s eyes lit up. “That’s cool.”
Felix nodded vigorously. “Right? Cool. Creative. Hot.”
Seungmin’s face didn’t change, but his eyes lingered on Jisung a fraction longer.
“Fashion.” Seungmin repeated, like he was filing it away. “Makes sense.”
Jisung frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re either going to be brilliant or insufferable.” Seungmin said calmly.
Felix gasped again. “Seungmin!”
“What?” Seungmin asked, genuinely confused. “It’s statistical.”
Jisung stared at him, then laughed, because it was either that or throw a pillow.
Jeongin shifted, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “What about you guys? What do you study?”
“Business.” Felix said instantly, as if the word personally offended him. “Because my parents like pain.”
Jeongin shrugged. “Psychology.”
Jisung blinked. “Really?”
Jeongin nodded, looking a little proud. “Yeah. I like people.”
Seungmin, without missing a beat, said “That explains why you’re already friends with Felix.”
Felix placed a hand over his heart. “Rude.”
Jeongin grinned. “Accurate.”
“And you?” Jisung said, turning to Seungmin. “What’s your deal?”
Seungmin looked at him, expression unreadable.
“Economics.” he said finally.
“That fits.” Jisung murmured.
Seungmin’s eyes flicked. “What does that mean?”
“It means you’re exactly the kind of person I’d avoid in high school.” Jisung said honestly.
Felix laughed like he’d been waiting for someone to say it. Jeongin watched them all, eyes bright, like he was collecting data on all of them. For a moment, with the late afternoon sun spilling across the room and Felix’s warmth filling the space, it almost felt normal. Almost. Then a voice crackled through the hallway speakers, an announcement system built into the dorm.
“Attention first-year residents. Welcome orientation begins in thirty minutes in the main auditorium. Please bring your student IDs and dorm keycards. Attendance is mandatory.”
Felix groaned dramatically. “I hate mandatory.”
Seungmin stood at once, already reaching for his jacket. “If we leave now, we won’t be late.”
“We could be late on purpose.” Jisung offered.
Seungmin looked at him like he’d suggested arson.
Jeongin hopped up. “Is it like... a big thing?”
Felix nodded. “Probably. They’ll try to make it inspiring. Then we’ll get assigned mentors.”
Jisung’s stomach tightened again. “Mentors...” he echoed.
Felix’s grin turned mischievous. “Yeah. Older students. To help you adjust.’”
“I don’t need help adjusting.” Jisung said quickly.
Seungmin raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t even adjusted your suitcase wheel.”
Jisung shot him a glare.
Felix grabbed his hoodie. “Come on. Worst case, your mentor sucks and you ignore him. Best case”
“There is no best case.” Jisung said.
Felix smiled brightly. “Best case is he’s hot.”
Jisung groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We’re going to die.”
Jeongin laughed, slipping his phone into his pocket. “At least we’ll die together.”
Seungmin opened the door, already in motion. “Stop being dramatic. Let’s go.”
Jisung hesitated just long enough to look back at the room. the two beds, the sunlit window, the neat desk and the messy backpack. A shared space with strangers that were already starting to feel like something else.
It wasn’t safe yet. But maybe… it was real.
He picked up his student ID and followed them out into the hallway, into the smell of autumn and new beginnings, and whatever waited in that auditorium. Whatever older student would be assigned to him. Whatever kind of life he was about to step into.
The leaves outside the window spun in the wind like they were laughing. And Jisung, despite himself, smiled back.