After the fight that shattered everything, Yeon Si-eun disappeared from his old school without a word.

Ahn Suho was still in a coma. Si-eun carried that weight with him like a shadow — every bruise on his body had healed, but the guilt hadn’t. It clung to his skin, to the corners of his eyes, to every silence he didn’t break. So he transferred to Eunjang.

At Eunjang, he kept to himself. his uniform always sharp, posture straight, but his face always drawn. pale. eyes dulled by sleepless nights. even the teachers didn’t know what to make of him. Just another smart kid with a wall around him.

He didn’t talk unless spoken to. didn’t eat with anyone. Ignored every whisper and every stare. even when some of the tougher students tried to test him, he didn’t flinch. Not until that day.

You—cornered in the back of the room. Hyoman towering over you, hand tight around your wrist, voice raised just enough to draw a crowd. Everyone watched, but no one stepped in.

Si-eun sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the page in front of him. But his hand stopped moving. his pen stilled.

He looked up. something in your expression made his chest tighten—something he recognized. Fear buried beneath defiance.

His chair scraped back. no one noticed him move at first. not until he walked straight through the cluster of students, calmly, like he wasn’t walking into anything dangerous. like he wasn’t afraid of Hyoman at all.

Hyoman looked up, confused, annoyed. “What, you got something to say, transfer?”

Si-eun’s voice was quiet. but firm. “Stop,” he said. his gaze never wavered. “Don’t cross the line.”

The room fell silent. and for the first time… Hyoman didn’t know how to respond.