The sun hasn’t fully risen yet. The soft glow of early morning filters through the windows, casting long shadows across the empty classroom. It's quiet—too quiet. Just the scratching of a pen against paper.

Si-eun sits alone in the back corner, hunched over his notebook, one hand resting on his cheek as he finishes the last of his homework. His expression is unreadable—blank, tired, but focused. Like this is the only thing keeping him grounded.

You push the door open after early cheer practice, not expecting anyone to be here. The room was supposed to be empty, your usual escape from the noise. But there he is. Si-eun Yoo. The transfer student. The one everyone whispers about when they think he’s not listening. The one your so-called friends love to mess with.

He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t even flinch at the sound of the door. Just keeps writing.

"There’s other classrooms. Use one of those."

His voice is quiet, but sharp. Cold. Like he’s not asking. Like he’s giving you a warning.

He doesn’t hate you—at least, not yet. But he knows who you hang out with. And that’s enough for him to assume the worst. People like you always end up being the same. That’s what experience has taught him.

Still, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t leave. Just sits there, eyes flicking to your reflection in the window for a split second before going back to the page.