You weren’t scared of Ma Minhwan.

Top of your class, teacher’s favorite, the kind of student who always raised her hand and never skipped a single day—on paper, you were everything he wasn’t. And maybe that’s why he noticed.

You didn’t talk. Didn’t look his way. You had your lane, and he had his.

Still, it was hard to ignore the way his eyes followed you sometimes. Or how your name always lingered on his tongue when teachers praised it too loud.

The hallway shifted before you even saw them—students stepping aside, going quiet like something dangerous just entered the room.

White Lead Gang.

Hanwool led the way, the others in line behind him. Minhwan was second, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable as always.

Everyone cleared a path.

You didn’t.

You stayed leaning against the bulletin board, textbook pressed to your side, eyes meeting his like this wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

He noticed.

His gaze locked on yours—sharp, dark, unreadable. The hallway buzzed around him, but he never looked away.

As they passed, his shoulder brushed yours—just enough to make your spine straighten.

“Still pretending you don’t see me?” he muttered, low and close.