The alarm on Lee Min-woo's phone buzzed weakly from somewhere under a pile of crumpled shirts. He groaned, shifting beneath his blanket until his lashes — long enough to brush his cheek — flickered open.
His small, messy room looked like it had lost a fight: clothes scattered across the floor, game controllers half-buried in snack wrappers, and sunlight pushing stubbornly through half-closed blinds.
Min-woo sat up, stretching his 5'6" frame until his joints popped, then rubbed his eyes, letting the morning warmth wash over him.
The door crashed open.
"Hurry up! We're going to be late, Auntie isn't gonna wait for you all day!"
Minji stood in the doorway, hair tied in a neat bun, school uniform perfectly in place. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot in that you're testing my patience way.
"I'll be right down. Stop acting like you own the damn place," Min-woo muttered, still half-asleep as he fumbled for his pants.
"You better be." She turned sharply and headed downstairs, muttering something under her breath.
Outside, Aunt Minjae waited in her car. She was in her thirties but carried herself with a youth that could pass for twenty-two, her brown hair brushing the straps of a light sundress. After their parents died in a car crash, she had been the first to take them in — the only one who didn't hesitate.
"Damn it, stop pestering me…" Min-woo muttered again, silencing his phone. It had been buzzing since last night with messages from his online friends. They'd all been sure he'd win his match — only for him to lose 0–10. It still stung.
Finally, he grabbed his bag and trudged downstairs.
A pencil bounced off his shoulder the second he stepped outside.
"Damn it, get in! I'm late for my morning club meeting, dumbass!" Minji shouted from the back seat.
"Relax, he's tired from all his video games," Aunt Minjae said, laughing mockingly as Min-woo slid into the car.
Minji didn't waste a second once they pulled out of the driveway, arms crossed and a scowl still firmly planted. "You know you're going to get detention if you keep showing up late like this, right? And Auntie's gonna ground you if you don't start taking school seriously."
Min-woo smirked, slouching back in his seat. "Detention's just a fancy word for 'chill time with the other losers.' I'm basically making friends."
Minji shot him a look that could freeze lava. "You're impossible."
Aunt Minjae glanced at them in the rearview mirror, her soft smile easing the tension. "Now, now, let's not fight. You two are just tired this morning. Min-woo, try to get a little more sleep tonight, okay? And Minji, remember to be patient."
Min-woo raised an eyebrow. "Patience, huh? That's rich coming from the queen of nagging."
Minjae laughed, shaking her head. "Don't encourage him."
The ride settled into a comfortable rhythm, Minji occasionally shooting pointed remarks, and Min-woo firing back with playful jabs. At one point, he casually grabbed a pen from the console and scribbled a little mustache on the photo of their aunt stuck to the dashboard.
"Hey! What the heck, Min-woo?!" Minji's shocked gasp filled the car.
"Relax. It's a masterpiece," he grinned.
When the car pulled up to the gates of Haneul High, Min-woo's school — a bit farther from home than Yabul High — he stretched and yawned again.
"Alright, genius, have fun in loser ville," Minji said, already checking her phone for messages.
Min-woo grabbed his bag and stepped out. The sprawling campus of Haneul High buzzed with students hustling to class, its buildings a mix of sleek modern glass and traditional red brick.
Minji waved at him with a smirk. "Try not to embarrass yourself, remember you're my little brother, take pride in that."
"Thanks for the confidence boost." He tossed her a peace sign before heading toward his own building.
Inside the crowded hallway of Haneul High, Min-woo kept his head low as usual. The noise was overwhelming — lockers slamming, voices bouncing — and he moved like a shadow through the chaos.
Just as he reached the classroom door, a soft bump stopped him.
"Oh! Sorry!" said a clear, warm voice.
He looked up briefly to see a tall girl with blonde hair that caught the light, framing her face like a halo. Her smile was easy and genuine, the kind that made people notice without trying.
"Don't worry about it," Min-woo mumbled, ducking his head again.
She gave him one last friendly smile before slipping inside.
Her name was Sora, and Min-woo knew her name from somewhere — popular, admired, and always surrounded by a group of friends.
He moved to his usual seat at the back, eyes fixed on the desk. No sudden moves, no drawing attention. Safer that way.
At the edge of his thoughts, a familiar shadow loomed — Eun-Jae.
With his messy red perm and towering 6'1" frame, Eun-Jae was impossible to miss. Broad-shouldered and smirking, he played the part of a friend — clapping Min-woo on the back, cracking jokes. But Min-woo knew better. Those were just masks hiding constant torment.
The lesson was clear: fighting back only made things worse.
So Min-woo most times stayed quiet, head down, waited for the bell to ring.
Min-woo glanced up briefly toward Sora as she settled into a seat near the front. Her blonde hair caught the morning light, and she offered him a soft, kind smile — the kind that felt genuine and rare in a place like this.
For a moment, something in Min-woo's chest loosened. Maybe today wouldn't be so bad.
But almost immediately, at the back of his mind, a familiar unease crept in. Eun-Jae was watching — always watching.
From across the room, Eun-Jae's eyes locked onto Min-woo with a smirk that didn't reach his sharp, calculating gaze. He casually flicked his red-permed hair and leaned back in his chair, already setting his plan into motion — one that would make sure Min-woo remembered exactly where he stood.
The classroom buzzed around them, but beneath the surface, the game was about to begin.
Min Woo put his head down again, trying to disappear into his desk
Suddenly, she appeared beside him.
"Hey," Sora said softly, her voice warm but teasing, eyes sparkling as she glanced at him.
Min-woo looked up, heart skipping—but his eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion flickering beneath the surface. Why is she talking to me?
"I'm Sora," she added, tilting her head with a smile that seemed both innocent and knowing.
Min-woo's voice caught in his throat. "Uh… I'm Min-woo."
She laughed lightly, the kind of laugh that made the room seem warmer. "You don't seem like the type to just blend in. I think you stand out… in a good way."
Min-woo's mind raced. Is this for real? Or is she messing with me?
Still, the loneliness clawed at him—the desperate hope that maybe someone actually wanted to talk to him.
He forced a small, shaky smile. "I—thanks. No one really talks to me much."
"Well, that's about to change," Sora said, leaning in just a little, her tone dropping to a soft, playful whisper. "Maybe we could hang out sometime?"
Min-woo blinked, caught off guard. His heart hammered, but suspicion lingered like a shadow in the back of his mind.
"Yeah, maybe. That'd be… nice," he said, voice quiet but eager, desperate not to mess this up.
Sora gave him one last bright smile before moving to her seat nearby, leaving Min-woo's heart pounding — tangled between hope and doubt.
What Min-woo didn't realize was that Sora's arrival was no accident — this was the first move in a plan carefully set in motion, and Eun-Jae was already laughing in his mind of what was to come