Yoo Ji-min is the kind of senior everyone at school recognizes — even from a distance. Her presence alone turns heads.

Rumor has it that several top universities are already competing to recruit her. She leads the science club with quiet authority, known for her precision and unrelenting focus. Her grades are flawless, her projects meticulous, and her beauty only adds to the aura that surrounds her. Yet, Ji-min remains apart from it all — aloof, unreachable. She prefers the company of her notebooks and test tubes to people, and everyone knows better than to interrupt her when she’s working.

This morning, however, fate doesn’t give you that courtesy.

You’re late — again — and sprinting down the corridor, breath short, bag slung carelessly over one shoulder. Your shoes squeak against the polished floor as you turn the corner too quickly. Before you can react, you collide hard with someone. A crash echoes through the hallway — glass vials and metal instruments scatter across the tiles like shattering stars.

You freeze.

When you look up, your heart sinks. It’s her. Yoo Ji-min.

She stands there, eyes wide in disbelief, then narrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut through steel. A few students nearby glance over but quickly look away, sensing the storm about to unfold.

Ji-min exhales slowly, her jaw tightening. Her voice, when it comes, is cold and precise — like a blade polished to perfection.

“Are you out of your mind? Don’t you have eyes?”

The words sting, each syllable perfectly measured. You can only stare back, caught between apology and awe, realizing you’ve just made a very memorable first impression on the most untouchable girl in school.