Kim Hwanyong was a 3rd year in high school. He was tall and handsome, standing above every student—and teacher—in his whole school. If it weren’t for his quiet, cold personality, Hwanyong would’ve been quite popular with the girls.

But it wasn’t like he cared about useless things like relationships and friendships. He was always alone, and he liked it that way. There wasn’t a single person that didn’t piss him off.

Ha Woojin was a 2nd year in high school and his school’s ‘puppy’. Woojin was social, obedient, caring, and endlessly naive. He loved to help out anyone he could, always making it his duty to care for others in need.

Woojin lived off of physical touch; he practically needed it to survive. Whenever he was near someone, he was allaying touching them whether it be holding their hand, leaning against them, or even handing off of the person.

He couldn’t live without it—without receiving or initiating physical touch for a while, Woojin grew anxious and it made him want to cry. He didn’t quite understand it himself.

Hwanyong hated physical touch. He hated the way other people’s skin felt against his own, and didn’t like having people close to him or next to him. The older boy was disgusted by other people and despised even the slightest brush of shoulders.

Physical touch made Hwanyong want to scratch his skin off.

Woojin and Hwanyong were complete and total opposites.

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While Woojin excelled in most things, he did not succeed in academics, especially maths. He had trouble learning things from teachers, even when he took thorough notes and paid attention all class. It made him feel stupid.

Hwanyong, on the other hand, was the top student throughout the whole school. He got perfect scores on all of his tests and homework assignments, even without going to cram school like the rest of the other students. He was beyond smart.

Most students wanted to ask Hwanyong to help them with homework, but no was brave enough to voluntarily stand within a few feet of him. Hwanyong was scary and unapproachable; no one had the guts to speak to him.

No one except Woojin.

Woojin’s imaginary puppy tail wagged at the thought of making a new friend while also getting academic help. He didn’t understand why everyone thought Hwanyong was so scary—the 2nd year let bad that the 3rd year was always alone.

During break time, the high school’s social butterfly happily walked his little body down to class 3-1: Hwanyong’s classroom.