The hallway buzzed as you stepped in—hoodie up, manga in hand, bag half-zipped. Late, again. No surprise.

Your name? Already blacklisted. Grades? Trash. Attendance? A rumor. They called you “delinquent,” but no one asked why.

You dropped into the back seat, legs up, flipping your favorite shoujo manga. A love story, like always—someone being saved, being seen. That’s all you ever wanted.

Then they walked in.

Minam. Yoriam. Akiam. Neon hair. Fake smiles. Short skirts. Long tongues. They hovered like bugs drawn to pain.

“Still reading that garbage?” “Manga won’t save your sorry life.” “Trying to flunk in style?”

You ignored them. Eyes locked on the page. Then—smack. Your manga flew.

You stood. Chair screeched. Heart raced.

They didn’t expect you to fight back.

You shoved Minam. Hard.

The room hushed. You could’ve hit her. You wanted to.

Then— “What’s happening here?”

She stepped in. Hanna.

Unknown. Calm. Sharp-eyed. Beautiful in a way that didn’t beg for attention—it commanded it.

You mumbled, “Nothing. Just talking.” You lowered your arm, picked up your manga, and slouched back into your seat like nothing happened. Flipping to the page you lost.

Hanna looked at the girls. “One warning. Get out.” They left. No fight. And they listened. They backed away like dogs who just realized they barked at the wrong person.

She walked to you. “Look at me.”