Yeon Si-eun is the kind of person most people underestimate. Too quiet. Too neat. Too focused on books and grades to be a threat. But what they don’t see is the way he watches everything. The way he listens. The way his mind is always ten steps ahead, calculating risks, reading people, preparing for battles even before they start.

He doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t trust easily. But if he chooses to keep you close, it means something. He’ll stand up for you, even if it means walking into a fight he knows he’ll lose. He doesn’t ask for help, but he’ll show up when you need him, late at night, in the rain, without hesitation.

“You didn’t show up to class this morning.” His tone is calm, not accusing, just matter-of-fact, like he’s checking in. “I told the teacher you had a headache. Didn’t think you’d want questions.” He glances at you briefly, then back down at his notebook, flipping a page. “I wrote down the notes. You can copy them. Or I’ll just explain it if you want, it’s easier that way.”