1) One Day, I Turned into a Puppy
The first time Yi-hyeon saw Han Jun was on the day of the opening ceremony, right as they’d just become third-years.
With the lingering chill of early spring still biting at him, Yi-hyeon blew warm air into his hands and stomped his feet, hoping the opening ceremony would start soon. Just then, a tall student brushed past him—someone wearing a light jacket that didn’t look nearly warm enough for midwinter.
Was there really someone that tall at our school?
Yi-hyeon lifted his head to get a better look at the student’s face, and without realizing it, let out a silent holy shit in his head. The guy’s face—his completely unfamiliar face—was strikingly handsome, the kind you rarely saw.
Pale, flawless skin. Hair neatly styled just enough. Beneath it, well-shaped eyebrows sat in perfect symmetry, as if carefully groomed. At the ends of his long, sharp eyes, cool, icy pupils angled downward, glancing at Yi-hyeon as though he were beneath notice.
“What are you looking at?”
The irritation dripping from the student’s blunt voice made Yi-hyeon shrink back. He quickly lowered his gaze, and from then on, he didn’t even turn his head in Han Jun’s direction.
Unlike Yi-hyeon, Han Jun had no filter between what he thought and what he said. He ignored other people’s wrongdoing, but when something unfair was directed at him, he sharpened his claws to an excessive degree.
On his very first day as a transfer student, Han Jun openly clashed with Wonseok, one of the school’s well-known delinquent crew.
The seating chart had already been posted in the class group chat, but the moment Wonseok walked into the classroom, he headed straight for the back window seat like it was his by right. Then, he started nudging the student sitting in front of him with his foot while they were organizing their books.
“Hey, buddy. That’s our seat.”
“Huh? Oh, uh… okay.”
Wonseok’s reputation was infamous enough that the student knew getting involved would only be exhausting. Without even trying to resist, he immediately moved seats.
“Ahhh, fuck. Same class as that bastard Lim Haejun again.”
“I’m sick of it too.”
“PC café after school?”
“If I skip cram school again, my mom’ll kill me.”
“If you don’t go, I’ll kill you.”
Wonseok plopped onto the desk with his legs up and started chatting loudly with Haejun. Not long after, creeeak—the classroom door opened. It was Han Jun.
As he entered, every student’s gaze followed his movements.
Han Jun walked in with steady steps, eyes on his phone, and stopped in front of Wonseok. He glanced back and forth between the number written on the edge of the desk and the screen on his phone, then stared straight at Wonseok.
“What are you looking at?”
Wonseok glared up at him, eyes lifted sharply in irritation.
“That’s my seat.”
“What?”
“Didn’t you hear me? I said that’s my seat.”
“What the hell are you saying, you crazy bastard?”
Han Jun, visibly annoyed, shoved his phone screen—showing the seating chart—right in Wonseok’s face and asked if he didn’t know how to read numbers. Wonseok jumped to his feet, veins bulging as he snarled about whether Han Jun couldn’t read the situation, but just then, the homeroom teacher walked in at the perfect moment. Wonseok unclenched his fist.
Muttering lowly for Han Jun to fuck off, he was just about to sit back down—
“The one who should fuck off is you.”
Han Jun yanked the chair backward. With a loud thud, Wonseok went sprawling across the stone floor, landing flat on his ass.
That incident made Han Jun the target of the delinquent group.
The rest of the class, wary of Wonseok’s mood, tried to keep a careful distance from Han Jun. But Han Jun himself seemed to scorn the entire class, as though the word target didn’t even apply to him.
For that reason, even weeks later, Han Jun remained like oil floating on water—never truly blending in.
***
Less than a week after midterms ended, the homeroom teacher handed out rank slips. The moment Yi-hyeon saw his, he stared so hard he wondered if his eyesight was failing.
[Grade Rank]
2nd
No matter how he looked at it, the number 2 only seemed to glare back at him more clearly.
Fuck. This can’t be happening…
The orphanage supported Yi-hyeon only through high school. If he wanted to go to college, he’d have to save up the tuition himself. They did give him some independence money when he aged out, but with rent deposits skyrocketing due to inflation, it would barely be enough.
Determined to get at least a scholarship, he’d studied like his life depended on it, never letting go of first place. For two straight years, he received the school’s merit scholarship and saved every single semester without missing one.
But the moment third year began, a transfer student suddenly appeared, shoved Yi-hyeon aside, and claimed that spot.
It wasn’t like he’d ever seen the guy studying, either.
Just how much does he study at home…?
They said he was the son of a National Assembly member, so he was probably getting ridiculously expensive private tutoring. For Yi-hyeon—who studied only at school and at the orphanage—that made Han Jun feel like an insurmountable wall.
Fuck, I barely have time to study as it is. Guess I’ll have to find a part-time job now.
Biting down hard on his lower lip, Yi-hyeon suddenly turned his head and looked at Han Jun.
Completely oblivious to Yi-hyeon’s tangled thoughts, Han Jun was slumped over his desk, fast asleep like always.
***
[PE Class: Latecomers run 5 laps]
Five minutes before lunch ended.
Watching the class president’s back as he wrote on the board after entering the classroom, Yi-hyeon let out a quiet sigh and reluctantly stood up. He dragged his feet toward the lockers at the back of the room and pulled out his gym clothes.
Once they became seniors, PE was mostly theory-based, but twice a month, they still held outdoor classes for students’ health. Everyone looked forward to those days—everyone except Yi-hyeon.
He’d been born weak and was prone to constant minor illnesses. If he overdid it even a little, he’d collapse or get a nosebleed.
Thanks to the homeroom teacher knowing his situation, he didn’t have to participate in the physical drills—but he hated having to watch Wonseok, who kept riding him, accusing him of slacking off and “having it easy.”
As Yi-hyeon reluctantly changed into his gym clothes, Wonseok suddenly approached and started groping him all over.
“Why doesn’t this bastard have any body hair? You don’t even have any on your dick?”
“Get away. I said stop.”
When Yi-hyeon shoved him away, Wonseok suddenly yanked hard on the waistband of his gym pants. Just because Yi-hyeon was gentle didn’t mean he didn’t understand humiliation—so why did Wonseok always single him out for this kind of cruel joke?
Yi-hyeon snapped and pushed him again, but Wonseok didn’t budge, instead grabbing at his clothes even more aggressively.
“I said stop it!”
“Stooop iiiiit, huhhh?”
Wonseok cackled, saying anyone would think he’d been molested over a little joke. His behavior was unbearable.
Yi-hyeon clenched his molars, fists tightening as his eyes reddened. Just then, Wonseok—still laughing obnoxiously—let out a strangled urk and suddenly pitched forward, crashing down in front of Yi-hyeon.
Staggering, Wonseok grabbed the corner of a desk to steady himself, baring his teeth viciously as he turned toward whoever had shoved him.
“Which fucking—! Ha, you again? What the hell is wrong with that bastard, seriously?”
Where Wonseok’s glare landed stood Han Jun.
Han Jun stared down at Wonseok in silence. His gaze flicked briefly toward Yi-hyeon.
Again.
Yi-hyeon curled his slightly aching fingers into his palm.
“You’re the one who’s full of problems—I don’t even know where to start. First off, you’re not a kid anymore, so why are you blocking the aisle acting like a toddler? And why do you want to see another guy’s dick so badly? What are you, gay?”
“Won’t you shut the fuck up? You wanna die or something?”
“Why don’t you stop opening that rotten, stinking mouth of yours wherever you please? It’s disgusting.”
Wonseok stared at Han Jun like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard, then raised his fist and chased after him as Han Jun brushed past with his shoulder.
Suddenly, Han Jun snapped his head around and looked straight at Wonseok.
“Fuck, what? And if I don’t stop, what are you gonna do about it?”
Embarrassed at having hesitated for a split second, Wonseok twisted his face into an even more vicious snarl.
“I don’t think I need to do anything to you. What I said wasn’t bullshit—go see a hospital. I’m serious. It’s bad.”
Han Jun’s final nail in the coffin made Wonseok’s face flush bright red.
Then—pfft—someone laughed.
“Who the fuck was that?”
At Wonseok’s twisted, venomous voice, the classroom fell silent once more.
***
The moment PE ended, Yi-hyeon approached Han Jun, who was washing his face at the water fountain.
He hovered around him awkwardly, like a puppy that needed to pee, then scurried over and carefully held out the towel he’d been clutching.
“Here.”
Han Jun’s face rose into view above the fountain. When Yi-hyeon saw his neat forehead between damp strands of bangs, he opened his mouth again.
“Earlier… thanks…”
