๐ป๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐ช๐ผ๐น๐ฌ
summary: ๐ณ๐ถ๐ฝ๐ฌ ๐จ๐ต๐ซ ๐ฝ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ๐ฌ๐ต๐ช๐ฌ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฏ'๐ต ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฐ๐จ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ณ. ๐ ๐ฆ๐ต, ๐ง๐ข๐ต๐ฆ ๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฃ๐ฆ. ๐๐ต ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ญ๐บ ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ธ ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ถ๐ณ๐ฆ, ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ด๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ฆ.
warnings: Violence, strong language, mention of blood, family issues, SA, injuries, depression, drugs, eventual smut etc...
paring: สแดแดษด ๊ฑษชแดแดษด x ๊ฐแดแด!แด/แด
genre: romance, action, thriller, slow-burn
author's note: ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ค ๐๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฎ๐ค๐ฃ๐! This fanfiction is based on my original Wattpad story, which Iโve decided to bring here as well. I hope youโll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. English is not my first language, so if you notice any grammar mistakes or misspelled words, please let me know and Iโll gladly correct them. Updates will probably be slow, and the chapters will most likely be quite long, simply because thatโs the way I love writing. I do not own the plot of Weak Hero Class or any of its original characters. All rights belong to the original creators. I only own Lee Eunji, her storyline, and a few additional original characters. Iโve also made some changes to the original setting, for example, the school will be mixed for the purposes of this story. Lastly, please be kind and respectful. Iโm writing this fanfiction for fun, and while I always do my best, Iโm not a professional writer. If this story isnโt your cup of tea, thatโs completely okay, youโre always free to stop reading and find something that suits your taste better. Thank you for giving my story a chance, and I hope you enjoy it. โก
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|| I am a cage, in search of a bird.||
ASKING FOR HELP HAD never been something Eunji was good at. Most of the time, the girl preferred to heal her own wounds alone, hiding somewhere quiet so people would not worry about her. She did not like being asked questions, nor did she like answering them, especially when they concerned her. That was why she remained silent in front of her psychologist, staring at him with a blank but teasing look that masked her inner turmoil.
After her mother's death, her father thought it was best to send her to a professional. He believed the shock of finding the corpse of the woman who had given her life would be traumatizing for anyone, especially for a girl her age. Doyun had noticed subtle changes in his daughter's behavior since that fateful day. She had become quiet and detached, as if she were merely going through the motions of life by inertia, without any real purpose or drive. He hoped that after a few weeks she would start to improve, but those weeks stretched into months, and then into years of lingering silence.
That was the reason the Lee girl now sat in that small, sterile studio, listening to the buzzing sound of the lights, instead of the doctor voice. She was there because her father had imposed these sessions on her, not because she wanted any part of them. In fact, she had not gotten any better. If anything, her condition had only worsened over time. The deep, dark hollows under her eyes stood out starkly against her fair skin, her fingers fidgeted continuously from the constant anxiety pressing on her chest like an invisible weight, and the way she had grown skinnier was almost sickening to witness.
"Miss Eunji," the doctor said softly. He put every effort into helping the girl, though he knew he was losing her from the start. After all, how do you save someone who does not want to be saved?
"Are you taking the pills I prescribed for you?" he asked again, waiting patiently for her to respond, his voice steady despite the growing frustration etched in his features.
She glanced at him through her lashes before dropping her gaze to her hands. As she kept playing with the small ring around her index finger, twisting it nervously again and again, she nodded without uttering a single word.
Dr. Hwang's eyes never left her face. He studied every single movement of the girl with quiet intensity, then hummed aloud just loud enough for her to hear. He scribbled something on his clipboard before speaking again."Are they working? Do you sleep better?" But by the way she looked, with those shadowed eyes and slumped posture, he already knew the answer would disappoint.
Eunji shrugged, biting her inner cheek hard enough to feel the sting, refusing to give him a proper reply. She knew her behavior might seem childish, that making a therapist waste his valuable time on her was not the best choice, but what else could she have done? The words simply would not come, trapped somewhere deep inside her numbness.
The doctor sighed heavily, placing the clipboard down on the glass table with a soft clink. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Eunji, I can't help you if you don't help me," he stated firmly, his tone a mix of concern and quiet desperation.
The girl swallowed hard, a wave of annoyance spreading through her chest like a slow-burning fire. She pushed her tongue against the tender spot on her inner cheek where she had been biting, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Her head rose slowly, and her gaze locked onto the doctor's persistent one. She leaned back into the worn armchair, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. "I'm doing great," she said, softly, but the roll of her eyes didnโt pass unnoticed.
Dr. Hwang kept himself composed. He knew he was dealing with a sixteen-year-old girl whose defenses ran deep, layered with layers of unresolved pain. "Listen, Eunji, your fatherโ"
But those words only made the bubble of annoyance in her chest swell even larger, threatening to burst. She already knew exactly what he was about to say: that her father was truly concerned about her health, and all the usual reassurances that followed, blah blah blah. She had heard it all too many times before, in this very office, week after week. So she cut him off, her voice coming out snappier than she had intended, laced with impatience.
"Seonsaengnim, how much longer is this going to take?" she asked, though she had no real interest in his answer; she just wanted out. The question sounded ruder than she intended, but being trapped for the past hour snapped something in her mind.
The doctor was too stunned to speak at first. Instead, he took deep breaths, passing a hand over his entire face and closing his eyes tightly, trying to ease the throbbing headache building behind his temples. When he opened them again, the girl was still waiting expectantly, looking at him with her wide light brown eyes. "Howโs your relationship with Suho?" he asked, Completely ignoring her question. "Are you still avoiding him?"
Eunjiโs breath caught in her throat, stunned by the doctorโs words. The annoyance in her chest faded into a feeling she could not quite name, guilt, maybe, or shame?
"What about him?" she forced out, her voice strained, betraying a flicker of vulnerability.
The doctor noticed the immediate shift in her behavior right away: the way her shoulders tensed slightly under the fabric of her blazer, the subtle clench of her jaw. "Your father mentioned that you two don't spend much time together anymore," he continued gently.
The girl did not respond. She bit her lips, lowering her gaze on her clenched hands, gripping tightly the hem of her skirt, while the faint metallic taste of blood coated her tongue. She did not want to talk about Suho. In truth, she did not want to talk at all: not about her crumbling situation, not about her absent father, and especially not about the boy she had once been so close to, not when she knew deep down it was all her fault.
"You two don't talk anymore?" he pressed, hoping to draw out a reaction, his voice measured but insistent. But the girl kept her mouth shut, her eyes looking every but him, until they fell on the nearest window of the room. She gazed out at Seoul's early morning life stirring below: the distant hum of traffic, the soft spring breeze carrying hints of cherry blossoms through the cracked window. Yet her mind kept drifting somewhere else.
She had never dared to speak about what had happened between her and her best friend. Perhaps saying it out loud would have made it real, would have forced her to confront just how poorly she had treated him when all he had been trying to do was help her, comfort her, be the brother she had always claimed he was.
She looked back at the doctor, who was still waiting patiently for her response. A shaky breath slipped from her lips and her throat felt suddenly dry. She parted her mouth, as if she wanted to speak, to finally release the weight pressing against her chest, the weight that left her gasping for air. But the words kept dying on her tongue, her teeth biting them back before they could form, her mind refusing to let them surface.
The Lee girl felt frustrated, annoyed with herself, but mostly exhausted from the constant battle of wanting to let go and being unable to do so. Because that silence was her shield, an armor she had meticulously built over the years, designed to protect her from the most brutal realities of the world. And so, in the end, she simply closed her mouth, surrendering to the familiar safety of her own walls.
Her shoulders slumped ever so slightly as she looked down at her hands resting in her lap. But then her phone vibrated, jolting her out of her own thoughts. Carefully, she pulled the device from her pocket, and a notification appeared on the lock screen.
Mr. Hwang must have noticed her shift in expression because he spoke up, his voice calm but carrying a quiet hint of softness beneath his professional demeanor. "I guess our time is up."
He closed his clipboard and rose from the armchair, walking toward his desk before pausing and turning back toward the girl as if he had forgotten something. His eyes held hers, offering a silent comfort, and his lips twitched slightly, forming the faint ghost of what might have resembled a smile. "I hope next time you will tell me what happened. Goodbye, Eunji."
She picked up her backpack from the floor and slung it over one shoulder, then turned to face the doctor one final time. Slowly, with practiced politeness, she bowed deeply from the waist. "Goodbye, Seonsaengnim," she said quietly, her voice soft but drained of any warmth. With that, she turned and left the room. The door clicked shut behind her, and her heart felt heavier than when she had first arrived.
Outside, the warm sun kissed her skin gently, chasing away the chill of the air-conditioned office. The flowery scent hanging in the air grew stronger with each step she took, mingling with the fresh hints of blooming cherry blossoms and the lingering moisture from the rain the night before.
A tall man waited beside a sleek black car, his sharp eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. His impeccably tailored suit exuded a powerful, commanding aura, marking him as more than just a driver. He carried himself with the quiet authority of someone accustomed to discretion and protection. He opened the rear door with a subtle nod, inviting her inside. She slid into the cool, leather-scented interior without a word, sinking into the plush seat as the door closed softly behind her. A few seconds later, the car pulled smoothly away from the curb, merging into the flow of traffic and carrying her deeper into the heart of the city.
Eunji leaned back into the soft leather, resting her head against the cool glass of the window. Music blasted through her headphones, its relentless rhythm pounding into her ears. She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to flee the suffocating reality she was trapped in, yearning for even a fleeting moment of rest that her weary mind had cruelly denied her night after night. But no matter how hard she tried, the haunting image of her mother's lifeless body sprawled across the bedroom floor refused to fade, clawing its way back into her consciousness.
Eunji's attention drifted back to her recent conversation with Mr. Hwang. "You two don't talk anymore?" That simple question gripped at her heart and squeezed it until it began to hurt. She tried to push the thought away, to think about something else, but her brain kept shoving it forward, memories of what their friendship had been appearing right before her closed eyes. She could see Suho's face so clearly: the desperate disappointment etched into his features, tears glistening in his eyes as they silently pleaded with her to make some sense of it all, to bridge the widening chasm between them. The worst thing was seeing him every day, in her same class, forced to act like total strangers who had once shared everything together.
She knew that the Ahn boy still cared about her, despite how deeply she had hurt him. In class, sometimes she found herself glancing toward him, expecting to see him asleep, but instead his gaze was already on her, his eyes holding back the pain of being kept away from her. But before her thoughts could spiral any deeper, the car came to a halt. She jolted upright from her trance, blinking in confusion as she adjusted to the light flooding through the windows. Her gaze settled on the familiar building ahead. The girl let out a heavy sigh as a dull headache began to throb against her temples, building pressure with each passing second. She had not even stepped inside yet, and already the prospect of enduring eight long hours in that suffocating place exhausted her. She removed her AirPods, remaining oblivious to the driver, her father's trusted employee, speaking to her in a steady voice.
"Your father won't return home until next Monday," he continued, his tone flat and mechanical, as if he had recited the message a dozen times before. "But he made sure you would attend your ballet classes and charm school sessions."
Eunji offered no reply, merely nodding in acknowledgment. Of course he would not be home. He never was, perpetually buried in his work, a fact that held no surprise for her anymore.
She stepped out of the car, adjusting the strap of her backpack before pulling a cigarette from her pocket and clamping it between her teeth. Her pace was unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world, her gaze scanning the bustling courtyard around her. Byeoksak High School was teeming with life, students clustered in every corner under the crisp morning light. Chatters and muffled laughter reached her ears, groups walking toward the school entrance and embracing the new day. Eunji made no effort to memorize or recognize their faces, keeping her gaze forward, but her heart skipped a beat when her eyes fell on the white motorbike parked not far away, one she knew very well. Suho's.
She remembered how he had always dreamt of one, how he had started saving every penny he could, and especially how radiant his smile had been when he first showed it to her. That was almost a year ago now, and yet her heart still warmed at the memory of his wide, joyful expression.
Swallowing the bitter taste lingering in her mouth, she forced herself to move forward. She brought the cigarette back to her lips for one last drag before dropping the butt on the ground and grinding it beneath her heel.
The corridors inside lay unusually still and silent, broken only by the persistent buzz of fluorescent lights flickering overhead. Eunji squinted against the piercing brightness, blinking hard as she adjusted her eyes and willed her heavy legs onward, dragging herself step by step toward Classroom 1-6.
She slid the door open, and the empty classroom greeted her with an echoing stillness, laced with the faint, dusty scent of old chalk. She stepped inside, her attention immediately drawn to the only two figures occupying the space. In the third row, at the center desk, a boy sat with his head bowed over a book resting on the wooden surface, earphones tucked snugly in his ears, completely oblivious to the girl lingering in the doorway. Eunji's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, searching her memory. Yeon Sieun, that was his name, from what she could recall. The two had sat near each other all last semester, yet never exchanged a single word, each lost in their own world, too absorbed to bother with anyone else. But her gaze did not linger long. It shifted quickly to another familiar silhouette, one she would recognize anywhere, the very one that had been haunting her since early morning.
Ahn Suho sprawled across two desks, fast asleep, his soft snores punctuating the quiet air. His head rested on his usual pink pillow, the very one she had gifted him years ago, and a too-small blanket draped haphazardly across his torso.
Eunji froze there for a moment longer than necessary, her backpack strap slipping slightly down her shoulder. She could not quite pinpoint her hesitation, perhaps because in that pocket of classroom stillness, the chaos growing outside seemed to blur into irrelevance. It did not surprise her to find him napping like this. She knew he had taken on a delivery job at a local restaurant to support his grandmother financially, the medications for her illness growing prohibitively expensive these days. More than once, she had spotted him driving furiously through the streets on his bike, racing to drop off another order.
With a soft, barely audible sigh, she glided to her desk, her gaze still lingering on the sleeping boy. She set her bag quietly beside her chair and sank into her seat, the cold backrest pressing through the thin fabric of her uniform. She smoothed the hem of her skirt, which ended a few inches above her knees, then unzipped her bag. One by one, Eunji took out every book she needed, but she paused when her eyes fell on one in particular. Her favorite, the one her mother used to read to her at bedtime: The Little Prince. To outsiders who did not know her story, it might seem childish, but that book held her entire world. Her eyes traced the inked words page after page, the rough texture of the yellowed paper rasping gently beneath her fingertips. With a small sigh, she tucked it beneath her desk, then opened the book on her surface, trying to concentrate as much as she could.
Minutes passed by, and the classroom slowly filled with students, their rising chatter fading into mere background noise in her mind. But then the sharp ticking of heels against the parquet floor pulled her attention, followed by the teacher's bright voice.
"Good morning, class," the woman said, a wide smile plastered across her face. The room chorused back in reply, and Eunji set her book down. Mrs. Baek radiated warmth as always: a woman no older than thirty-five, tall, elegant, and strikingly beautiful. Every guy in the school harbored a secret crush on her, whispering crude fantasies among friends like awkward preteens navigating puberty, the kind of detailed stories Eunji preferred to tune out entirely.
"Okay, everyone to your seats. The lesson is about to start." The room shuffled into order, chairs scraping and whispers dying into silence. Eunji watched the teacher's movements closely, captivated by the effortless authority in her posture. From her bag, Mrs. Baek drew a stack of papers, double-checking they were the right ones.
"Three students won awards in the school math competition," she announced, a note of pride underscoring her words. "Yeon Sieun, Lee Eunji, and Jeon Yeongbin, please come to the front."
A ripple of applause followed as Yeongbin rose proudly, striding forward as if he had just claimed the Fields Medal rather than a spot in some regional math olympiad. Eunji rolled her eyes at the display, though she hardly cared enough to dwell on it. She stood and trailed closely behind the silent figure of Sieun. The three reached the front amid a sea of staring eyes that left her unsettled.
"Yeon Sieun, first place," Mrs. Baek read aloud. "This award recognizes your achievement in the 2022 math competition. Good job, Sieun-ah." She handed him the certificate with a beaming smile, which the boy did not return. He bowed curtly, said nothing, and stepped aside as quickly as possible, his expression betraying no emotion whatsoever.
"Lee Eunji, second place." At her name, Eunji stepped forward. She barely registered the teacher's words, likely the same scripted praise as before, but she couldn't ignore the subtle surprise in the delivery. She had never expected to win; she had only entered because her father insisted. Coming in second exceeded anything she had anticipated. Being one of the top students in class was no secret, everyone knew she outshone most of the other girls and boys academically, but lately her grades had dropped.
Noticing Mrs. Baek handing her the certificate, she bowed politely and accepted it with clammy hands. As her fist unclenched, purple half-moons bloomed on her palm from where her nails had dug in moments before.
"Jeon Yeongbin, third place," the teacher announced looking at the paper in her hand before handing it to him, "And it says the same."
Right after that, the class erupted in loud applause and whistles for the triumphant boy. Yeongbin raised his hand for a high-five, which Mrs. Baek jokingly refused with a playful wave. Eunji stood there unimpressed, much like the boy beside her, both bored by the unnecessary spectacle.
"Everybody calm down." Mrs. Baek's voice rose, yet a kind smile still lingered on her lips. "They all did well, and put effort into winning." She turned her head toward her students. "You can go to your seats now."
With that, the two boys and the girl bowed politely to their teacher and returned to their desks.
Before Eunji could sit, a hand gripped her arm softly, the touch light as a feather, yet it startled her anyway. She turned her head slowly, a frown creasing her brow as confusion clouded her eyes. Her gaze met Yeongbin's, his dark irises gentle but hiding something else beneath the surface. "Congratulations, Eunji. I knew you would have won." He whispered so low that only she could hear it.
The girl did not say it back, too surprised by his unexpected kindness. Still, her lips curled into a polite smile, as if to thank him, before slipping from his grip and sinking back into her seat, her head bowed over her open book.
"The mock test is less than two weeks away," the teacher reminded them. "Have you all been preparing?" A chorus of monotonous yeses echoed through the room. "Take it seriously so you're ready for the real college entrance exam." Mrs. Baek then turned to the blackboard, scribbling numbers and formulas across its surface. "Now let's revise what we covered last lesson."
Eunji's notebook gradually filled with integral calculus problems and notes, her handwriting perfectly neat, the calligraphy clear and elegant with not a single drop of ink out of place. She followed the entire lesson without distraction, lifting her head only to copy exercises the teacher had already solved on the board. Time dragged on, minute by minute, until the bell finally rang.
THE CLASSROOM QUICKLY TURNED into chaos, returning to its usual lively energy. Chatter and laughter filled the air as students clustered into groups, joking around, while others headed out of the classroom, probably making their way to the vending machine or simply taking a walk around the school before the next lesson would begin. In the back of the room, a group of girls gathered around a desk, with Kang Nari at the center, presiding like the queen of a hive, her followers acting as loyal servants. They trailed her everywhere, fawning over every word she spoke. She was the girl everyone aimed to be: beautiful, rich, well-dressed, smart. Every girl's dream, but Eunji knew better. Behind those polite smiles and kind words was simply a person hungry for power, desperate to be noticed and adored as if she were some kind of goddess.
It was no surprise that bad blood flowed between them. Eunji saw Nari for the girl she really was, and that fact upset her more than anything. Nari could not stand that someone would not willingly bow at her feet. There was no actual war between the two girls, or at least not from Eunji's side, yet Nari could not tolerate even that. At first, there were just small gestures, girls in her class or even throughout the entire school avoiding Eunji without reason. But her provocations did not remain stagnant. Instead, they only increased, taking advantage of what was most fragile in the Lee girl's mind: her mother's death. Nari would brag about it, mocking the tragedy as if it were some kind of sick joke, desperately hoping the girl would give her some kind of reaction. Yet Eunji remained in her stillness, ignoring the bait, even if she madly wanted to fall for it.
But the real reason Nari could not stand the sight of her was much more plain than pride. It was a boy, Yeongbin precisely, because no matter how much she tried to claim his attention, there was no doubt that his eyes were only on Eunji.
He had tried everything to be with her. Flirting, giving her compliments, gifts. She could not even count the number of times Suho would roll his eyes at the sight of the pathetic boy. But the girl had not fallen for any of it. Not because he was bad looking, he was clearly handsome, but his behavior was far from hers. He was too loud, his ego higher than himself, and his pride was so deeply rooted in him that it felt impossible not to feel it.
A sharp sound reverberated through the room, and heads turned toward the source of the noise. Eunji turned as well, and when her gaze fell on the scene, she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Next to Nari's group, there was Yeongbin's. Each member was seated at their desk, except for one: Lee Jeongchan, who was standing, leaning slightly back against the desk two rows behind him. Everyone was looking in the same direction. Eunji could not understand what at first, her sight interrupted by the Lee boy, but then his sharp, mocking voice reached her ears.
"Agh! No, you're supposed to turn around, dumbass!" He hissed, his hand still hovering in the air. The girl guessed he was the one who had made such a noise.
He, Yeongbin, and his lackeys were at it again, tormenting the newcomer as if he were some kind of prey, reveling in how he trembled under their power, laughing at the way his wide eyes filled with terror at the mere threat of a beating. A pang of pity and sympathy crossed her chest, her heart tightening at the clear sight of the boy. Yet she remained still at her place, analyzing the scene as if that would change something.
Yeongbin rose from his seat and marched forward, his ego inflated beyond reason. Eunji watched closely, her eyes tracking him as he slung an arm around the terrified boy's shoulder and whispered something in his ear, something she could not make out, while a sly smirk curled his lips. And then the boy rushed out of the room.
Her gaze, however, remained fixed on the spot the new boy had occupied just seconds ago. Episodes like this happened every day at school, an insult followed by a beating, nothing anyone was unused to. Even the teachers knew about it, yet they had never tried to stop any of it. They simply kept it quiet, as if the problem did not exist simply because it was not seen. Many students had changed schools, some of them had even committed, yet no one dared to talk about it. Because facing the truth could be scary, but what frightened the girl more was the indifference. Probably because the same treatment had been reserved for her mother, because assuming that she was just a drug addict was easier than facing the cruel reality of what she had been going through that had led her to commit.
The Lee girl closed her eyes, exhaling a slow sigh, trying not to let emotions take over her body. She could already feel her heart hammering against her ribs. Her attention shifted to the thought of the small orange container tucked at the bottom of her backpack, already calling her name. To someone else, it might have seemed harmless. But to her? That was what she feared the most. Not just because of what had happened to her mother, but also because of the power it was slowly taking over her mind. Sometimes she would take more than she should. Other days, none at all. It was like riding a swing, she thought. You know it will eventually stop, but you never know whether you will slow down on your own or if you will fall before that happens.
With the tumult still coursing through her body, she opened her eyes, and the chaos around her flooded back in. The new boy was still gone, but a figure lingered near the lockers, and it did not take long before she could feel his eyes pinning her. Hesitantly, she glanced up, meeting Yeongbin's gaze, a sly smirk still lingering on his lips. She quickly averted her gaze, turning her attention ahead, her eyes now focusing on the math book resting on the surface of her desk. Every part of her hoped that he would do the same, return his attention to his group and leave her alone for good. But still, she could feel the weight of his gaze on the back of her head, burning her scalp as if doing so could pull her focus back to him, back to the way her hair framed her shoulders.
But then Yeongbin's attention shifted to the boy next to Eunji. Yeon Sieun was leaning on his desk, his back slightly curved forward, his head bowed over his notebook, earphones plugged in his ears, oblivious to the chaos around him. He was wearing a light grey jacket over his uniform, his dark brown hair falling over his dark eyes, yet that did not seem to bother him. He just kept scribbling notes, ignoring the world outside him. But that peace shattered in an instant when a sharp pain exploded across his back. His frame went rigid, the pen in his hand halting mid-stroke as his fingers twitched slightly around it.
Taken aback, the Lee girl's head snapped to the side, her eyes now scanning Sieun's body language. His expression, once unbothered and calm, changed subtly. His jaw tensed for a second, and a frown, even if barely noticeable, formed between his eyebrows before fading away. Slowly, he pulled the earphones from his ears and placed them on his desk, turning his head toward Yeongbin and fixing him with an intense, unwavering gaze.
Even without being able to see his eyes, Eunji felt the tension in the air, the classroom suddenly growing smaller, the walls pressing in as if the space itself had become claustrophobic.
"You should've aimed better, asshole; he got hit," Yeongbin chuckled, directing his words to Jeongchan, who was eager to play along.
Another boy, Han Taehoon, chimed in with a mock surprise on his face. "Yeah, he's right. Why'd youโ" But he didn't finish the thought; instead, he sighed loudly, a resigned sound echoed around the room.
The Lee boy, however, channeled all his amusement into tormenting the quiet student next to Eunji. "Right, I'm really sorry about that," he said dismissively, waving his hand as if to brush off the situation. "Go back to studying."
"I'm sorry." Yeongbin said, smiling at him, tilting his head with feigned innocence.
A long silence stretched between them, tension rising with every passing second. For a moment, Eunji wondered if the Yeon boy would respond at all, or if he would simply return to his work, plugging his earphones back in as if the world outside didn't exist.
"Be careful next time," Sieun finally spoke, his tone flat and calm, but the underlying warning was clear and heavy in his words before he shifted his focus back to his notebook.
Eunji noticed how Yeongbin's body tensed, especially as a chorus of surprised "ooohs" rippled through the room. The boy stepped toward Sieun, his strides deliberate and menacing, until he loomed over him at his desk. "It was a mistake. I said it was a mistake. Why would I apologize?"
"Just be careful, not to make more mistakes." Sieun's voice remained steady, the implications of his words hanging thick in the air.
The tall boy scoffed in annoyance, cursing under his breath. He reached for the chair in front of Sieun's desk, its metal legs scraping sharply against the floor as he dragged it closer. Then he sat down slowly, turning to face the quiet boy directly. Eunji did not mean to stare, did not mean to be nosy, yet she could not bring herself to look away from the scene. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on Sieun's face. His head was bowed over his notebook again, his expression completely calm and unaffected by the fuming anger of the boy sitting in front of him. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she forced herself to look away, to return to the equations and formulas in her book, but no matter how hard she tried to focus, the conversation between the two boys rang too loudly in her ears, impossible to ignore.
"Yah, you know what? Everyone hates you. Even if we say the same thing, the way you say it is annoying," Yeongbin said, his voice low and cutting.
At once, goosebumps rose along Eunji's arms, and a shiver slipped down her spine. The cruelty in his tone made her freeze. For a brief, suffocating moment, flashes of her grandparents crossed her mind. That voice, that sharp and merciless way of speaking, sounded too familiar. It was the same tone they had used on her, words meant to wound instead of comfort. "There's just something about you... the way you are. It's exhausting. No wonder why your mother left you like this."
"You must be bored." Sieun's answer landed harder than it should have, striking something deep inside Yeongbin's chest.
"What?" he said, caught off guard.
"You should go expand your vocabulary." The Yeon boy replied, not a sign of irritation hiding in his tone.
"Do you wanna die?" Yeongbin asked, so lowly that it was almost impossible to hear. His patience no longer existed.
At that, Eunji turned her head once again, her heartbeat racing with each passing moment. Even Sieun raised his head, his dark brown eyes piercing intensely into the Jeon boy's gaze, and even if the girl could not see them clearly, she could have sworn she saw a hint of challenge burning in them. For a moment, she truly thought they would jump on each other, that the tension would finally break into violence. But before that could happen, the sharp sound of the door sliding open echoed through the class. Everyone's attention shifted toward the source of the noise, and standing right in front of the entrance was a group of boys, the baseball team, their presence instantly filling the room with an intimidating weight. Each of them held a bat in his hand, and the one standing at the center swept his gaze across the classroom like a predator searching for prey.
"Where's Ahn Suho?" he shouted, his voice cutting through the room and seizing everyone's attention. The room filled with murmurs as students turned their heads, confused by the sudden interruption. Some of them even pointed in the direction where the Ahn boy was sitting.
His head was resting on the small pillow, his forehead pressed into it, and it was clear to everyone that he was asleep again. His eyes were closed, his breathing calm and steady, fully immersed in whatever he was dreaming. The girl admired him from afar, slowly calming down, wondering what the boy could have done to bother the entire baseball team, who clearly could not wait to beat him up.
Another boy sitting right in front of him shook him lightly, calling his name with urgency. Suho jolted awake from his nap, looking around in confusion, stretching his arms across the table, still holding the pillow. "Ah... what is it? Is it already lunch time?" he asked casually, unaware of the threat standing at the front of the class.
"Was it you?" the leader spoke, his tone full of disbelief and boiling anger. "Did you... did you hit on Naeun?" He touched his chest as if someone had just struck him where it hurt the most.
Confusion deepened in the Ahn boy's features, a frown forming between his brows as he tried to process what had just been said. "Naeun?" he repeated, rolling the name on his tongue, trying to recall where he had heard it before. "Lee Naeun? Park Na- Park Naeun?"
Suho's expression changed at the boy's exclamation, finally realizing what he was talking about. "Ah. She kept DMing me, but she's not my type. We went out to eat, like, once, but I'm not into her," he replied dismissively, his voice laced with boredom.
"Hey, what's for lunch today?" Suho asked the boy in front of him, not really interested in the previous conversation.
The Ahn boy nodded, satisfied with the answer. "Sounds good. Protein is good. Ah, now I'm hungry."
The girl rolled her eyes at her ex-best friend's words. Obviously he would be like this, recklessly unbothered by whatever threat stood in front of him. Yet that behavior of his had always somehow calmed her nerves, making him appear untouchable. Suho knew well that Eunji hated when he fought, that every time he invited her to his MMA championships, he had to beg her. But in the end, she would always smile at him, cheer for him, and mend his wounds after the event. The girl shook her head at the memory of it, trying to focus instead on the team's anger directed at the Ahn boy.
A few seconds passed before the captain of the Byeoksak baseball team strode toward the still sleepy boy, swinging his metal bat through the air before it landed on Suho's desk, missing him by inches. And with that, the chaos began.
Desks lay overturned and scattered across the floor, while students huddled together in the far corner, watching the fight unfold before them. Girls clung to each other, boys too stunned to even breathe. In the middle of it all, Suho moved with sharp precision, slipping past every strike thrown his way and countering with practiced ease. He wrenched the metal bat from one of the boys, giving it a quick swing through the air, not to attack, but to keep them at bay.
One of them charged at him anyway, forcing the bat hard against Suho's chest and driving him back until his shoulders met the wall. His hands struggled against the weapon as he tried to tear it free. Suho's eyes flicked to the side just in time to catch another attacker closing in. He reacted instantly, jerking the bat aside to block the incoming blow, then snapping a kick into the boy's knee that sent him crumpling to the ground.
Slipping free, Suho grabbed a book from the nearest desk and struck the first boy across the head, again and again, not hard enough to cause real harm, but enough to force him to stagger back. When he looked up, the rest of the team had already regrouped.
The leader lunged at him, fist drawn back, ready to strike. Suho sidestepped with ease, catching him mid-motion. In one fluid movement, he grabbed him by the torso and pulled him in close, his fingers hooking around the boy's ear and twisting sharply. A pained whimper slipped from the leader's lips as his body tensed in Suho's grip.
"Yah, yah, yah. Should you be doing this, as athletes?" Suho muttered, almost lazily.
Another boy charged from the side. Without even turning fully, Suho kicked the desk beside him, sending it crashing into the attacker and knocking him off balance. Only then did he release the boy still trapped under his arm, letting him stumble away.
Lee Eunji watched all of it from a distance, her eyes glued to the Ahn boy's movements. Despite the fight, he showed no signs of fatigue. His breathing stayed even, his expression unchanged, unlike his opponents, who were already worn out and struggling to keep up. He simply brushed a hand across his clothes, as if dusting off something insignificant, and paid the fight no mind.
But the leader was not finished. He snatched a bat from his teammate and turned toward Suho, anger burning in him, his ears reddening. "Son of a bitch. Yah, shithead!" he shouted, his arm swinging the bat from side to side, desperate to land a hit. Once again, he missed. Frustration peaked, and in one final reckless move, he hurled the bat straight at Suho.
The Ahn boy shifted just in time, the bat missing him by inches before slamming into the blackboard. The sharp clang echoed through the classroom, cutting through the noise and leaving everyone in a heavy silence.What the boy had not considered was that a few feet behind him, Eunji stood frozen on the spot, her eyes wide and a throbbing pain radiating along her arm. The bat had been aimed at Suho, but in the chaos of the moment, an edge of the metal stick had grazed her skin, leaving behind a bruise that was already turning a deep purple.Suho's head snapped toward the captain, his eyes flashing with irritation. His uniform was disheveled now, his shirt slipping from one shoulder
"You crossed the line." he said, his voice was low and controlled, a cold warning underlying every word.
When the boy charged again, curses spilling from his mouth, Suho no longer avoided him. He slipped past the incoming punch and, in one clean motion, drove his fist straight into the boy's face. The impact dropped him instantly, and his body collapsed to the ground unconscious.
The room fell into silence once again, the previous tension dissolving into a shock that lingered on everyone's faces. The terrified squirming of the girls ceased at once, and the boys clung to one another as their hearts hammered in their chests. No one in the room dared to speak, not even the bravest among them. The baseball team stared in disbelief at their captain lying on the floor, disappointment spreading through their chests; the one who was supposed to lead them hadn't even managed to defeat the boy who had sparked the quarrel with his girlfriend.
Suho's gaze swept over the stunned boys still frozen in place, then dropped to their fallen leader, unmoving on the floor. He pointed a lazy finger at him, his tone calm but threatening. "Take him to the infirmary. If my name comes up, I'll kill you."
The boys didn't hesitate. Panic flashed in their eyes as they scrambled to lift their captain from the floor and rush out of the classroom, as if their lives depended on it, which, given Suho's tone, they might have. The door closed behind them with a soft hiss, and the corridor swallowed their hurried steps, leaving the room in a heavy, unsettled silence.
A small, satisfied smile crossed his face, even as adrenaline flooded him and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. But the Ahn boy couldn't shake the sensation of someone's stare, piercing his back. Slowly he turned his face, and his eyes met a pair of glossy ones. Sieun, the only person who hadn't moved at all during the fight, was watching him intensely, his gaze a mix of boredom and indifference, yet still judging the whole scene. Then his stare fell to the ground, and Suho, following his movements, noticed a pencil case lying open on the floor, pens scattered across the surface.
He looked back at the Yeon boy, and, pointing at himself, he said, "Oh, um, was that my fault?"
"Yes." the quiet boy replied.
Suho bent down quickly, gathering the stationery one by one, tucking each piece back into the case and placing it gently on the desk. "Sorry, man. It's my fault." He gave a small bow, looking genuinely apologetic, a smile still lingering on his lips.
Sieun didn't smile back, nor did he thank him. Instead his face remained as stoic as before, eyes still judging. "Why do that in a class?" he asked simply, then turned back to his desk as if nothing had happened.
A small laugh escaped his lips as he thought about how odd that guy was. But then, just as he was about to walk away, his gaze dropped to the empty desk next to the boy. Flashes of her eyes appeared in his mind, the way she had tried to hide the pain when the metal bat struck her skin. His heart suddenly skipped a beat, worry and guilt eating him from the inside out. He quickly turned, his eyes scanning the room, searching for the one person clouding his mind.
Then he caught a movement near the door,brief, but enough for him to recognize her. His feet moved before his mind could catch up, rushing across the floor as if she might disappear from his sight in any moment.
Suho knew she could feel his presence behind her. It wasn't the first time he would run towards her to confront her. He sensed it in the way her shoulders tensed, her steps quickened, and her head bowed down as if that would make her invisible to others. Still, the fighter kept following her, his pace now slower. He could see the angry red bruise on her skin, the one she was trying so hard to cover with her palm, failing miserably. He wanted to ask if she was alright, to apologize for what had happened, to tell her it was all his fault. But suddenly, that thought made him stop, even as his heart kept urging him to follow, to talk, to put an end to this stupid no-contact situation.
Yet he didn't move. Because his mind was already elsewhere, already telling him it wasn't worth it, that she had never come to apologize for what she had done, for what she had said. So, with a battle raging inside him, he stood there in the middle of the corridor, staring at the spot where she once was, as if it could give him answers, as if it could solve whatever had gone wrong between them.
