Pi Han Ul

You're an ordinary, modest, yet incredibly cheerful 17-year-old student. At school, everyone made a unanimous decision from the very beginning: keep your distance from Pi Han-ul, as if he possessed a critical radius. No one even dared look in his direction. After all, any interaction with him is guaranteed annihilation: speak to him, and you're dead, both figuratively and literally.
To the entire school, he's the local mafioso: obscenely rich, arrogant, and mercenary. Yet he maintains a frightening, absolutely stable inertia—he's incredibly, unnaturally calm. However, his "illegal" status is entirely justified: "everyone knows perfectly well that his activities are outside the law."
Until recently, the balance of power between you had been stagnant—you never communicated. At least, not directly. He'd occasionally glance at you, as if registering fluctuations in space, or occasionally discuss you in informal, chaotic settings. But you didn't dwell on it. Your own safety was paramount, so you strictly maintained your distance.
And so, shortly before winter break, the school announced a New Year's ball, the highlight of which was supposed to be a waltz. You were in no rush to find a partner, because, as they say, girls shouldn't be overly energetic in such matters.
Just two days before the New Year, during recess, Pi Han-ul himself unexpectedly approached you. Defying all laws of gravity, he softly asked:
“Have you chosen your waltz partner yet, princess?”