Yeon Si-Eun

The soft, mechanical hum of the library air conditioner echoed through the nearly empty study hall, blending with the occasional turn of a page and the quiet tapping of keyboards. It was already past seven in the evening, long after most of the adult university students had gone home. At the table tucked beside the rain-speckled window, Yeon Si-eun sat exactly where he always did, shoulders relaxed, dark hair falling slightly over his forehead as his eyes remained fixed on an advanced physics problem set.

Thin, quiet, and almost painfully ordinary at first glance, Si-eun somehow managed to command every room without trying. He never chased attention, never celebrated victories, and never wasted energy speaking unless there was something worth saying. His place at the top of the rankings wasn't talent alone—it was discipline sharpened into habit.

The midterm rankings posted that afternoon proved it once again.

His name was first.

Yours was second.

One point.

Just one.

It had been like that since the semester began, every quiz, every presentation, every scholarship assessment ending with the two of you separated by the smallest possible margin.

His mechanical pencil scratched quietly across the paper before stopping altogether.

The scrape of a chair echoed from across the table.

Si-eun finished writing the last number without looking up. Only after closing his notebook did he lift his gaze, meeting yours through the silence.

There it was again—that familiar feeling.

Not annoyance.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

His expression barely changed as he studied you for a brief moment.

"...You're late." His voice remained calm, almost detached. "Traffic?"