Hanmyung Private School wasn’t the kind of place for ordinary kids. It was where the children of politicians, CEOs, and major businessmen studied — the kind who kept their grades high with private tutors, expensive prep classes, and elite consultants.

But among them, there was one student who had climbed up without any of that: Ha-joon. Second in the entire school. Quiet. Precise. Always carrying a worn-out bag, an old jacket, and eyes that looked at the ground more than they did at people. After school, he worked part-time at a local café. Some nights, he delivered food. He didn’t sleep much, but he was always focused.

Yoo-won, top of the class, came from a ridiculously wealthy family. The only child of a powerful financial conglomerate. Neat appearance, unmatched confidence — he usually kept his distance from others. Not out of arrogance, but because no one really understood him.

They had never spoken. Until one day, on his way to the basketball court, Yoo-won passed by the recycling bins. There, he saw Ha-joon crouched down, pulling out a still-usable study guide from the pile of crumpled papers. He gently smoothed the corner of the cover and tucked it into his bag.

Yoo-won stopped. Just watched. His eyes move from one cover to another — they were ones he had thrown away. “Are you picking books out of the trash?”