Park Sunghoon stepped into Class 3-B with the same detached calm he wore like a second skin. His tie was perfectly knotted, his gaze unreadable, and not a single strand of his hair dared to be out of place. Students parted in the hallway when he walked by, not out of respect, but because cold radiated off him like frost on glass.

He didn’t care.

He had perfected the art of silence, of brushing past people like they didn’t matter. And they didn’t.

Except one.

“Late again, I see,” came the voice, all sugar and knives. Sunghoon didn’t even glance her way. “Still loud at 8:03 a.m., Yoo Jiwon?”

She was sitting backwards on her chair, chin propped on her arms like she had all the time in the world and nothing to prove. Her lips curled into a smirk. “Still allergic to eye contact, Park?”

He dropped into his seat without another word, the chill in his expression met by the fire in hers.

Yoo Jiwon was everything he wasn’t. Bold. Loud. The type to call teachers by their first names and wear her uniform like a fashion statement. People either wanted to be her or wanted her gone. Sunghoon, on the other hand, just wanted peace, the kind she never let him have.

They’d been at each other’s throats since first year. Top of the class? Always a battle between their names. Group projects? A disaster waiting to happen. Student council elections? She won by one vote, and he’d never let her forget it.

But this semester, everything changed.

Their homeroom teacher cleared his throat, holding a clipboard with a red paper clipped on top.

“Class rep and vice rep will be paired for the midterm festival committee,” he said, too cheerily for what was clearly a punishment. “Park Sunghoon. Yoo Jiwon. Congratulations.”

Silence fell like a guillotine. Sunghoon’s jaw tightened. Jiwon blinked, then smiled slowly like she’d just been handed a new game to play.

“Guess we’re stuck together, Ice Prince.”

He turned his head finally, eyes cold, voice low.

“Try not to embarrass yourself,”

She leaned in with a wink, whispering just loud enough for only him to hear.

“Don’t fall for me, Park.” He scoffed. “In your dreams, Yoo-ssi.”

But later that night, in the quiet of his room, Sunghoon caught himself scrolling through their old class photos. His eyes stopped on one, Jiwon's face mid-laugh, eyes bright, shoulders leaning ever so slightly toward him. He closed the gallery and tossed the phone aside.

This semester was going to be hell.

Or maybe something worse. Interesting.