Legal Hearts

"Saehwa, you really brought the new transfer student to our table?"

Nari's voice carried a slight edge, her chopsticks idly picking at her food. She wasn't upset, not exactly, but the tension in her tone was impossible to miss.

Across from us, Jiwon remained entirely unbothered. Ranked eighth, the beauty of the school, and someone who never wasted energy on things she didn't find interesting. She scrolled through her phone, barely sparing a glance at the conversation unfolding before her.

"Forget about it, Nari," she said smoothly, eyes still fixed on her screen. "It's not like we ever understand what Saehwa is thinking anyway."

At that, she finally looked up, her gaze drifting lazily toward Hyerin, taking her in without a hint of surprise. A silent assessment.

I smiled, amused. "What? Doesn't she seem a bit interesting?" I mused, leaning back slightly. "A transfer student admitted into one of the most elite law schools in the country—Seonghwa, of all places. A school almost impossible to get into, let alone transfer. It's something straight out of a fairy tale, isn't it?"

At my words, Nari exhaled, shaking her head as she finally took a bite of her food.

But my attention was elsewhere.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Hyerin—the way she quietly ate her meal, shoulders slightly hunched, presence small but not insignificant.

Ah.

So she had this side to her as well.

Shy, almost hesitant. A contrast to the girl who had rejected my help just hours before.

I rested my chin against my palm, watching the scene unfold in quiet amusement.

Hyerin didn't speak. She didn't try to force herself into the conversation, nor did she make any attempt to impress anyone at the table. She simply existed there, carefully, quietly.

She was observant, I realized. She was watching us just as much as we were watching her.

I smirked.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" I mused, tilting my head slightly in her direction.

Hyerin blinked, caught mid-bite, before chewing slowly and swallowing.

"I just don't see the point in talking when there's nothing to say," she finally responded, her voice calm.

At that, Jiwon let out a quiet chuckle, setting her phone down. "She's got a point, Saehwa. Not everyone enjoys playing games with words the way you do."

I hummed, unfazed.

"Maybe," I admitted, swirling my drink lightly before taking a sip. "But in this school, silence is just another way of speaking. It tells me just as much as words do."

Hyerin met my gaze then, and for the first time, I saw it—not hesitation, not uncertainty, but something steadier. Something unshaken.

She wasn't afraid of me.

She wasn't intimidated.

She was assessing me, the same way I was assessing her.

A slow smile spread across my lips. How interesting.

Jiwon watched the interaction with mild curiosity before shaking her head and returning to her phone. Nari, on the other hand, simply sighed. "You two are already exhausting, and it hasn't even been a full day."

I laughed softly, my gaze never leaving Hyerin.

Oh, this was going to be fun. 

Then, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Conversations quieted as students gathered their trays, the smooth rhythm of the school day settling back into place.

Across from me, Hyerin was already packing up, her movements efficient but unhurried. As she slid a neatly folded paper into her bag, my eyes caught the printed text at the top—her class schedule.

"Hyerin," I called, my tone light. "Let me see your schedule. Perhaps we'll have class together again."

She paused, her fingers lingering over the edge of her bag before looking at me.

There was hesitation. Faint, but there.

Still, after a moment, she pulled the paper out and handed it over, her gaze unreadable.

I unfolded it, scanning the list with mild interest, though I already knew what I was looking for.

And there it was.

I smiled. "Looks like we do have our next class together—Mathematics with Miss Kyung." I glanced at her, slipping the schedule back into her hands. "Shall I take you there?"

Hyerin blinked, as if surprised by the offer.

She studied me for a second, searching for something—an ulterior motive, perhaps.

I simply waited, watching her with an easy patience.

Finally, she sighed, slipping her schedule back into her bag. "I can find my way."

I let out a soft hum, standing up. "I'm sure you can."

And yet, as we stepped out into the corridor, I walked beside her anyway.

Hyerin didn't say anything as we walked, nor did I.

The hallway bustled with movement, students filtering toward their respective classes, their voices blending into a familiar background hum. Some glanced in our direction—curious, calculating, whispering.

It was inevitable.

The transfer student and Rank #1 walking together? They were bound to talk.

I ignored them.

Instead, I focused on Hyerin, who kept her gaze ahead, moving with quiet determination. She had refused my help, but she didn't tell me to leave either.

Interesting.

As we reached the stairwell, I glanced at her again, amused by how unbothered she seemed by the attention around us.

"You know," I mused, breaking the silence, "people are watching us."

She didn't even blink. "Let them."

That response earned a quiet chuckle from me.

Confident, but not arrogant. She wasn't trying to prove anything—she simply didn't care.

We reached the second floor, the familiar door of Miss Kyung's classroom coming into view.

"Here we are," I said, pushing open the door. "After you."

Hyerin hesitated, just for a second, before stepping inside.

Miss Kyung, already setting up her materials, looked up and smiled. "Ah, the new transfer student. Yeon Hyerin, isn't it?"

Hyerin gave a small nod. "Yes."

Miss Kyung gestured toward the seating arrangement. "You may take a seat. Ah, it looks like the only open spot is next to—"

I slid into my usual seat before she could finish.

"Me," I finished for her, smiling slightly.

Hyerin stared at me for a moment, expression unreadable, before wordlessly taking the seat beside me.

A quiet victory.

I tapped my fingers lightly against the desk, satisfied.

Let's see how long you'll keep resisting, Yeon Hyerin.

Leaning back slightly, I cast her a sidelong glance. "You should prepare yourself, Hyerin."

She turned to me, brow slightly furrowed. "For what?"

I smiled, resting my chin against my hand. "Miss Kyung," I gestured toward the front of the classroom, where our teacher was flipping through her notes, completely unbothered by the lively conversations around her. "She's… not exactly what you'd call a normal teacher."

Hyerin's gaze followed mine, observing the woman in question. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see soon enough," I said, amused by the way her confusion lingered. Then, with a casual tilt of my head, I added, "So, feel free to ask for help if you don't understand something."

There it was again—that familiar flicker of hesitation in her expression, as if she wasn't sure whether to take my words as genuine or calculated.

I waited, watching her reaction.

But before she could answer, Miss Kyung clapped her hands once, silencing the room in an instant.

"Alright, everyone," she said, a sharp glint in her eyes. "Let's begin. I hope you all got plenty of rest last night, because you're going to need it."

A few students shifted uncomfortably, already knowing what was coming.

Beside me, Hyerin straightened slightly, sensing the change in atmosphere.

I chuckled under my breath.

Welcome to Miss Kyung's class, Yeon Hyerin.

Miss Kyung adjusted her glasses, surveying the room with an unreadable expression. The air in the classroom shifted—anticipation, unease, quiet dread.

It was always like this before one of her lessons.

Her sharp gaze swept over the students, pausing briefly on Hyerin before she spoke. "Let's not waste time. Open your books to page 132."

The sound of pages flipping filled the air, a mechanical rhythm of obedience.

Hyerin followed suit, eyes scanning the text with quiet focus. I glanced at her briefly before turning my own page, already familiar with what was written.

Miss Kyung walked toward the board, picking up a piece of chalk with deliberate ease. "Since it's the first day of the term, let's start with something simple."

There was no warmth in her voice. Only amusement.

Her hand moved swiftly, equations appearing across the board in neat, sharp strokes.

It took less than a second for the murmurs to begin.

The so-called simple problem in front of us was nothing short of a carefully crafted nightmare—a multi-step equation that most teachers would take an entire lecture to break down.

Miss Kyung turned back to face us, crossing her arms. "Solve it."

A quiet groan rippled through the class, but no one dared to protest outright.

Except Hyerin.

She didn't say anything, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, scanning the board with a kind of measured disbelief.

I smirked.

I leaned in slightly, just enough for only her to hear. "I told you."

She exhaled softly, gripping her pen a little tighter.

"Miss Kyung," a student hesitantly raised their hand, "don't you think this is a bit much for the first class?"

Miss Kyung raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I thought Seonghwa students were supposed to be exceptional."

The class fell silent.

Miss Kyung smiled, setting down the chalk. "If it's too difficult, you can always step out and ask to be transferred to an easier course."

She wasn't serious, of course. But the challenge in her voice was clear.

I already knew how this game worked. She didn't care about the right answer. She cared about seeing who had the nerve to step forward.

I picked up my pen, already working through the steps in my head.

Beside me, Hyerin was still studying the problem, her brows drawn together.

Was she overwhelmed?

Or was she thinking?

I let my voice drop to a murmur, just enough for her to hear. "Do you regret rejecting my help now?"

She didn't look at me.

But after a pause, she picked up her pen.

And she started writing.

Oh?

I watched her from the corner of my eye, curiosity flickering to life.

She wasn't hesitating anymore.

I set my pen down, my gaze drifting across the room. Most students were still hunched over their notebooks, their brows furrowed in concentration, trying to break down the problem Miss Kyung had so graciously assigned.

Hyerin, too, was focused, her pen moving steadily across the page.

I tilted my head slightly, just enough to glance at her work.

Ah.

She was completely wrong.

Her numbers trailed down the page in neat, orderly steps—misguided, but confident.

I almost laughed.

She was trying. Trying her best, no less.

But she was going to fail.

And judging by the faint crease forming between her brows, she already knew it.

How cute.

Leaning in, I let my voice drop into something softer, just enough for her alone.

"That's not how you do it."

I felt the smallest pause in her movement, her pen stilling for half a second before she continued writing, refusing to look at me.

I smiled.

"Accept my kindness," I murmured, the words almost teasing. "Miss Kyung will really drop you if you don't at least get part of it correct."

She exhaled, not quite a sigh, not quite irritation, but something caught in between.

Still, she didn't look at me.

Did she think ignoring me would make me lose interest?

I waited, patient.

Would she accept help, or would she let her pride drag her down?

One lesson, Yeon Hyerin.

No one survives here alone.