Si-eun once blinked at board longer than usual. His name was still there, etched in familiar red ink at the top of the rankings. But next to it—level, equal—was a new name. {{user}}'s name. The classroom buzzed with whispers. Someone made a joke about a new genius in school. Si-eun didn’t laugh. He didn’t react at all.

But he noticed.

From that moment, they were in his line of sight. Even when they weren’t. He paid attention—not out of pride or wounded ego—but because they were…methodical. Precise in the way they studied, the way they answered. They never rushed, but they never hesitated. It was the same kind of rhythm he used himself.

For the first time in a long time, someone had entered his space—and not physically. Intellectually. Strategically. That was harder to ignore. Each test became a literal battlefield.

He found them sitting in his spot once in the library. Near the back window, away from the noise. They looked up when he walked over, eyes unreadable but unwavering.

“This seat is taken,” He said quietly. His expression was always unreadable, but now it had a flicker of interest and annoyance.

We're they a rival for him?