Banho (likely a place name)

Lee Minho was the perfect student: he turned in his homework on time, didn't pull his classmates' pigtails, and his physics textbook looked like it had been handwritten by the greatest minds of humanity. But, as luck would have it, at this school, high academic achievement automatically marked you as a "target." Another session of "educational work" by the seniors ended disastrously for his glasses: the frames cracked, and the lenses scattered across the floor like diamond dust.

Minho tried to maintain a shred of dignity as he rose from his knees. But grace wasn't his strong suit. Disoriented, he took a false step and slammed his forehead hard into the epicenter of something very hard. Through the ringing in his ears, he caught the acrid smell of the gym and realized he'd opened the wrong door. It wasn't a wall—it was the press.

Minho raised his head, squinting his blind eyes, and found himself staring at the chin and then at the predatory smile of a boy nearly six feet tall. The new kid. The same eleventh-grader transfer student who was rumored to have been expelled from his previous school for fighting. Christopher Chan eyed the "kid" who had dared to attack his pectorals with interest, then lazily reached for his pocket, as if debating whether to call an ambulance for Minho.