The corridor outside the exam hall buzzed like a beehive struck open. Voices overlapped—students chatting, calling out to one another, hurried whispers and frantic last-minute reviews mixed with the tense air of final exams. But amidst all the noise, Sea could only hear the pounding of his own heartbeat.

His hands were ice cold. Sweat trickled down his spine, even though the early summer air wasn't particularly hot. He forced himself to walk a few more steps down the long, echoing hallway of the university. But then—everything went dark.

The world slipped from beneath him, and he collapsed with a soft thud against the tiled floor. The last thing he heard was the faint echo of the impact, before all faded into silence.

Sunlight filtered through the slatted window, drawing a grimace from Sea as consciousness slowly returned. His head ached with a dull throb, like someone had gently knocked on his skull. He winced. Where am I? The sterile scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, and that's when he realized—he was in the university's infirmary.

He remembered clearly: today was the last exam. During the test, he'd started feeling cold and dizzy, but pushed through, gritting his teeth until the final minute. He barely made it out of the exam hall and into the corridor then... nothing. His memory cut off right there.

Sea gave his head a light shake to chase off the fog. Just as he tried to sit up, his eyes landed on the back of a man standing by the counter, pouring a glass of water.

The man was tall, posture steady and composed—like a figure stepping out of a frame. A crisp white shirt hugged his lean, defined frame; the neatly rolled sleeves revealed forearms lined with visible veins against pale skin, the kind people jokingly called "electrical wires." Short, neat hair. A silver watch on his wrist. Every detail about him gave off an air of discipline, clarity—and something magnetic.

Sea wasn't sure if it was real, but his heart skipped a beat.

"You're awake?" The man turned around, handing him the glass. His voice was deep and clear, carrying a firm undertone that startled Sea. "Low blood sugar. Make sure you eat properly next time before trying to juggle your schedule and coursework."

Sea, flustered, accepted the glass with both hands, gripping it tightly like it might slip. He mumbled, "Thank you..."

Right. These past few days, Sea had been so caught up cramming for his International Linguistics exam, he forgot to eat. The last proper meal he had was probably that rushed slice of bread yesterday morning. The rest had been just coffee. The growling in his stomach now was a loud reminder of that choice.

He hesitated, then murmured like a child caught breaking the rules, especially when the adult in question looked this intimidating, "Um... Sorry to bother you, P'Jimmy. I won't let it happen again."

The man raised a brow. "You know my name? I don't think I introduced myself."

Sea fumbled. "Who doesn't know Phi? You're like... the moon of this campus."
Then, realizing how that sounded, he quickly dropped his gaze to hide the look in his eyes. And I'm just a fish, swimming quietly below.

Jimmy—the man standing before him—was the star student of the Modern Literature department. Not only had he studied abroad on an international exchange, but his name also floated around constantly for his mixed Thai-Chinese looks: striking almond-shaped eyes, sharp brows, a high nose bridge, and porcelain skin that made others envious. And that faint, half-smile with a trace of aloofness? Enough to make half the campus swoon with a single glance.

If the campus security dog had an Instagram account, even it would vote for Jimmy as "Campus Moon." Every time he played basketball, the bleachers were packed—not just with students from their school, but from nearby universities too.

"You mean to say I'm just a pretty face?" Jimmy asked, tone light, teasing—but his gaze stayed fixed on Sea.

"N–No! That's not what I meant!" Sea waved his hands frantically. "You're smart, talented, famous, and... handsome. You're basically Heaven's favorite child, born to make ordinary people like me feel jealous. Didn't you know that?"

Jimmy let out a soft laugh. "Heaven's favorite, huh? That's a first. Never heard that one before."

He paused for a beat, then looked straight into Sea's eyes. The teasing faded, replaced by something steady. Grounded.

"No one's born great," he said. "Everything takes effort."

In that moment, Sea felt like he was being pulled into that gaze—no longer a distant moon in the sky, but a reflection shimmering in the water, right within reach of a little fish like him.

But just as quickly, Sea reminded himself: reflections weren't real. The moon on the surface was just an illusion. The truth was, Jimmy still stood miles above him.

Even so, those words—simple, sincere—would become a guiding light for Sea in the years to come.

What Sea didn't yet realize was that the starlight in Jimmy's eyes that night... would slowly begin to narrow its focus, until it shined only for the little fish below.