The classroom felt different that morning.
Maybe it was the way sunlight filtered through the tall windows instead of snow. Or maybe it was the way every student seemed unusually alert — like something was about to happen.
Han Seo-yeon arrived early for once. She liked early mornings; fewer stares, fewer whispers. She placed her bag gently on her desk by the window — Seat 3B — and stared outside at the frost slowly melting on the branches.
She didn't hear him enter.
"You're early."
She turned slightly. Kang Ji-hoon stood beside her desk, hair still damp from a shower, blazer perfectly fitted as always. He looked like someone who never rushed, even if he was late.
"I didn't want to fight through the crowd," she replied.
He nodded once and sat down beside her.
For a moment, silence settled between them comfortably.
Then the door burst open.
"Did you hear? There's going to be ranking announcements today!"
Groans filled the classroom.
Seo-yeon stiffened.
Ranking announcements.
She had almost forgotten that Seonghwa High publicly displayed academic rankings every month. In Busan, she had always been near the top. Here… she didn't know.
Ji-hoon didn't react. He simply opened his book.
"You're not nervous?" she asked quietly.
"No."
That was it. No hesitation. No false modesty.
She narrowed her eyes. "Confident?"
He looked at her sideways, expression unreadable. "Prepared."
Something about that answer irritated her.
Prepared.
As if effort was nothing to him.
As if topping the entire school was as simple as breathing.
Before she could respond, their literature teacher walked in carrying a folder thick with papers.
The room went silent.
"As you all know," the teacher began, adjusting her glasses, "monthly academic rankings have been finalized."
The tension was immediate.
Students straightened. Some clasped their hands together nervously. Others avoided eye contact completely.
Seo-yeon kept her gaze forward, heart pounding steadily in her ears.
"First place," the teacher continued, "as usual… Kang Ji-hoon."
A ripple of applause. Not loud — more obligatory than celebratory.
Ji-hoon didn't move.
Didn't smile.
Didn't even blink.
Seo-yeon felt something strange twist inside her chest. Not jealousy exactly. More like frustration.
Of course it was him.
"Second place…" the teacher paused slightly. "…Han Seo-yeon."
The room shifted.
Whispers erupted instantly.
"The transfer student?"
"She just got here."
"No way…"
Seo-yeon's fingers tightened around her pen.
She hadn't expected that.
Not here.
Not so quickly.
She forced herself not to look at Ji-hoon.
But she felt it.
His gaze.
Sharp. Assessing.
Interested.
After class, chaos broke loose.
Students crowded the ranking board in the hallway. Some congratulated Ji-hoon. Others stared at Seo-yeon as if she had committed a crime.
"Busan must have easy exams," one girl muttered loudly.
Seo-yeon ignored it.
She had learned long ago — reacting only feeds insecurity.
She returned to the classroom to grab her notebook when she noticed Ji-hoon standing by the window.
Alone.
"You're good," he said without turning around.
She blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You don't look like someone who studies that hard."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Is that an insult?"
A pause.
Then — the smallest hint of amusement touched his voice.
"No. It's a compliment."
She crossed her arms. "You don't look like someone who writes poetry."
That made him turn.
Fully.
For the first time since she met him, there was real surprise in his eyes.
"You saw that?" he asked quietly.
She smirked slightly. "I pay attention."
For a second, something shifted between them.
Not hostility.
Not friendliness.
Something sharper.
More electric.
"You shouldn't look at other people's notebooks," he said.
"You shouldn't underestimate people," she shot back.
Silence.
Then—
"왜 나한테 이렇게 말해?"
(Why are you talking to me like this?)
His voice wasn't angry.
It was curious.
Challenging.
Seo-yeon stepped closer before she could stop herself.
"Because you act like you're untouchable," she said honestly. "Like no one can reach you."
His expression hardened slightly.
"And you think you can?"
She didn't answer.
Because she didn't know.
The bell rang, cutting the tension like a blade.
Students began flooding back into the classroom.
Ji-hoon picked up his book.
But before he walked away, he leaned slightly closer and said quietly—
"Don't lose next month."
Her heart skipped.
"Excuse me?"
"If you're going to sit in Seat 3B," he continued calmly, "keep up."
Seat 3B.
Not just her desk.
Their space.
Their rivalry.
She watched him walk back to his seat, every step controlled, every movement deliberate.
And for the first time since arriving in Seoul, Seo-yeon felt something ignite inside her.
Not fear.
Not admiration.
Competition.
That afternoon during math class, she solved every problem before he did.
Not by much.
Just seconds.
But enough.
She felt his glance.
Felt the shift in energy.
He wasn't used to this.
Someone keeping pace.
When the teacher called on her to explain a complex solution at the board, she stood confidently, chalk in hand.
Her explanation was clear.
Precise.
Even elegant.
When she finished, the class applauded lightly.
Ji-hoon's gaze didn't waver.
After school, she packed her bag quickly.
She didn't wait for him this time.
But as she stepped outside, she heard footsteps behind her.
"You're avoiding me," he said.
"I'm walking," she replied.
He caught up easily.
Snow had stopped falling, but the air remained cold.
"You like competition," he observed.
"I like fairness," she replied.
He studied her face.
Then said quietly—
"Good."
She looked up at him.
"Because I was getting bored."
Her breath caught slightly.
Was that…
Excitement in his voice?
They walked side by side again.
But this time, the silence wasn't gentle.
It was charged.
Alive.
At the intersection where they usually parted ways, she stopped.
"Next month," she said firmly, "I'll take first place."
For the first time—
Ji-hoon smiled properly.
Not a smirk.
Not subtle.
A real smile.
"Try."
Her heart betrayed her again.
Because that smile was unfair.
Dangerous.
Warm.
As she turned to walk away, she heard him say softly—
"Seo-yeon."
She paused.
"Don't disappear."
The words were quiet.
Almost careless.
But something about them felt heavy.
She didn't look back.
"See you tomorrow, Ji-hoon."
But that night, lying in bed staring at the ceiling, she replayed it over and over.
Seat 3B.
Competition.
That smile.
And the way winter suddenly didn't feel so cold anymore.