When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

Chapter 38

Flashback

Ye Na had been playing alone, as always. Climbing up the slide, sitting at the top, her small legs dangling over the edge.

That’s when she saw him.

A boy.

Sitting on the swings, his feet barely pushing against the dirt. He was alone, just like her.

He didn’t look around, didn’t seem interested in anything. He just sat there, staring at nothing.

Ye Na had never seen him before.

Curiosity bubbled inside her, and before she knew it, she was sliding down and walking toward him, her tiny hands gripping the straps of her dress.

She stopped a few steps away.

"Why are you here alone?"
No response.

"Why aren't you looking at me?"
No response.

"Why you don't have any friends?"
Still no response.

"You don’t talk much, do you?"

The boy lifted his gaze.

For a second, he didn’t respond.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"You talk too much."

Ye Na blinked.

Then, to his surprise, she laughed.

It was the first time he had ever seen someone laugh like that—so freely, so easily.

She sat down on the swing beside him, kicking her legs. "I’m not talking too much. You’re just not talking enough."

The boy didn't answer right away. He just looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable, as if he was studying her, trying to decide whether she was worth speaking to. 

Ye Na tilted her head, waiting. The silence stretched between them, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

Instead, she grinned. "Do you always just sit here like this?" 

He finally looked away, his fingers tightening slightly around the swing's metal chain. "I like it here." 

"Why?" 

"It’s quiet." 

Ye Na scrunched her nose. "Quiet is boring." 

He didn’t respond, but she caught the way his lips twitched—just the faintest movement, like he wanted to say something but held it back. 

She kicked her legs harder, making the swing move slightly. "You know, I come here every day." 

He glanced at her. "So?" 

"So, I think that means we’re friends now." 

He frowned. "That’s not how it works." 

"It is," she insisted, nodding firmly. "I decided." 

"You can’t just decide that." 

"Yes, I can," she said proudly. "I do it all the time. When I see a nice rock, I decide it’s my favorite rock. When I eat a yummy candy, I decide it’s my favorite candy. And when I see you, I decide you’re my friend." 

The boy stared at her like she was saying something ridiculous. 

Then he looked away. "That’s stupid." 

Ye Na gasped. "No, it’s not! You should be happy—I don’t make friends with just anyone!" 

He didn’t respond. 

Ye Na puffed out her cheeks. "Fine, if we’re not friends, then what are we?" 

The boy swung his legs slightly, thoughtful. 

After a moment, he shrugged. "Strangers." 

Ye Na scowled. "That’s worse!" 

"Then don’t ask." 

She huffed, crossing her arms. "You really don’t know how to talk to people, do you?" 

He didn’t deny it. 

Ye Na leaned forward, resting her chin on her knees as she studied him. "Since we’re strangers, that means I don’t need to know your name." 

He glanced at her. "What?" 

"Yeah," she nodded to herself. "If we don’t know each other’s names, then we can just be… numbers." 

He blinked. 

"Numbers?" 

"Yeah!" Ye Na jumped off the swing, her small hands grabbing a stick from the ground. She bent down and started drawing in the dirt. "I’ll be Five. Because I’m five years old." 

He watched her, confused. 

She pointed the stick at him. "And you’re six. Because you look six." 

The boy frowned. "That’s dumb." 

"No, it’s cool," she said proudly. "Now we have a secret. No one else knows our names." 

He stared at the numbers she had written. 

Then, to her surprise, he reached out and corrected her six—making it neater, sharper. 

She blinked at him. "Does that mean you like it?" 

He sighed. "It means you won’t stop talking unless I agree." 

She grinned. "Same thing." 

For the first time, he let out a small, quiet breath—not quite a laugh, but not quite a sigh either. 

And from that day on-

They were Five and Six. 

And that was the beginning of everything.

Ye Na kept coming to the park every day.

And every day, he was there.

He never asked why she kept showing up.

She never asked why he was always alone.

They didn’t need to.

Slowly, something unspoken formed between them.

A silent understanding.

A quiet companionship.

At first, she was the only one who talked. She would ramble about anything and everything—about how she hated the vegetables in her lunch, about how she once got stuck in a toy store because she wanted to see every doll.

He would listen.

Not because he particularly wanted to, but because she never really gave him a choice.

Then one day, out of nowhere, he spoke.

"You cry too much."

Cheonga sniffled, rubbing her teary eyes. "I do not."

"You do."

She pouted. "It’s because my knee hurts."

He sighed. "Then don’t fall next time."

"It’s not like I wanted to!"

He sighed again, quieter this time.

Then, to her shock, he crouched down and tied her shoelaces.

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

He didn’t meet her gaze. "If you trip again, I won’t help next time."

She grinned. "You will."

He scowled. "No, I won’t."

"You will!"

He never answered.

But she knew the truth